Festus Haggen's luck had taken an upturn. He'd sat down at a table to play several hands of poker with Miss Kitty's latest dealer. It was a pure sin how easily he'd won the swankiest, most beautiful pair of boots he'd ever seen in his whole life off the dealer. His good fortune left as swiftly as it had come to him. Pearl Winton had been around every corner, and Miss Kitty swore she hadn't encouraged the widow. The widow had dragged him around town to find suitable work and kept trying to get him into her home for a ham hock dinner. Festus thought her husband had the right notion – dying to get away from her. It wasn't his time to be carted off to a preacher or perish, so he spent his time looking for an eligible bachelor for her. His first thought was Quint. The half-Comanche stamped out his hope of shoving Pearl on him and informed him that Eliab Haggen, his brother Zetham's boy, was in town. Eliab had traveled to Dodge to shoot the little hangy-down part of his ear off. Festus regretted biting Zetham's ear off in a fight over a girl, but he didn't believe his ear deserved to be shot off.

As he ran across the rolling hills of the prairie, he considered he didn't have any luck left at all. For days, he'd hid from the Widow Winton and run from his nephew. His arms ached from protecting his ears. His legs were sore from the miles spent running. His throat was parched from thirst. That long rifle seemed to come poking out from behind every log and rock. Festus rested against a tree to catch his breath. He wiped his brow, and he scowled at his fancy boots. The kicks had caused Pearl Winton to take more of a shine to him. He wished Matthew was back in town. He'd fix his troubles.


She awakened from the stiffness settling in her neck and rolled her head to ease the discomfort. Kitty grumbled as the book she'd been reading fell from her lap. She leaned over and lifted Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass from the floor, marking her page and setting it aside. She flattened her hand over her round belly and rubbed gently, looking up as the door opened. Kitty watched her husband lumber into the room. "You look terrible," she spoke, voice raspy from her sleep.

"Thanks. I been in the saddle for 36 hours," he responded, taking his Stetson off and tacking it on the peg. After taking off his holster, he painfully stepped to stand in front of the fireplace and warmed his worn-out body.

Kitty clucked her tongue in displeasure and pushed herself out of the high back chair. She despised how the man still behaved like he was twenty-five-years-old. Matt Dillon was just as formidable and unbeatable as he'd been at that age, but thirtysomething Matt had suffered a few more wounds and pains that slowed him down at the end of day. "Matt, you should have stopped to sleep."

Matt studied her, hands on her hips with an expression that was a combination of condemnation and compassion. "I wanted to get back to you."

She sprang up on her toes and ardently brushed her lips against his. Kitty unfastened his saddle coat and took it off, looking up at him through her lashes. "I appreciate that, honey," she whispered and silently worked on removing the layers of his clothing. She pushed him to sit in the chair she'd previously occupied. Her eyes flashed with sympathy at his grunt of physical discomfort. She knelt down and lifted his boot, expertly tugging it off his large foot. She removed the other and yanked off his socks. The redhead rose up and worked on his belt and pants. Kitty rested her arms on either side of his thighs and met his eyes as she leaned forward. "Get naked, Cowboy," she spoke in a soft voice and pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth, leaving him to strip as she wandered into the water closet.

Matt clambered to stand and shoved down his dirty pants. He came out of his union suit and left it in a heap on the hardwood floor. With a shiver, he followed his wife into the water closet and saw her perched on the hammered copper bathtub, beckoning to him.

"Water's still warm," she told him with a smile and shook the water off her fingers. Kitty retrieved a towel while he climbed into the tub. She took a washcloth and the bar of oatmeal and honey soap, dipping both in the water and working it into a lather to wash his muscular back. "I'll be back," she told him as she rinsed the soap off and kissed his temple.

Matt relaxed in the tepid water. It always astonished him how a bath could soothe his aching muscles and restore him. He sluggishly picked up the soapy cloth and washed away the remaining dirt. He stopped sloshing in the tub as the sound of Kitty's soft humming drifted to his ears. Amazing Grace always reminded him of the handful of Sundays that he attended church services with his mother. He struggled to keep his eyes open.

After a time, Kitty returned to the water closet. She leaned against the doorframe and shook her head. "36 hours in the saddle," she mumbled to herself and strode over to the bathtub, putting her hands on her hips and staring at her sleeping husband. "Matt, honey," she cooed and cautiously shook his shoulder. "C'mon, honey," she coaxed. "You gotta get out."

Matt jerked awake, reflexively reaching to draw his gun. He relaxed as he remembered his surroundings and focused on his wife's face. Matt regretfully removed himself from the tub and took the offered towel, drying his body off and eyeing the auburn-haired beauty.

"Bed," she ordered and located the bottled concoction of oils and herbs Doc had made.

"Yes, ma'am," Matt replied and crawled onto the pieced quilt covering the bedding. He reclined on his back and propped himself up on his elbows, admiring the silhouette of her shapely figure underneath the sheer material of her nightdress. "You're beautiful," he spoke in a low voice.

"You're a sweet talker," she remarked and poured the therapeutic oil into her hands. "On your stomach, mister," Kitty ordered and waited for him to situate his body. She began massaging his feet and calves while updating him on what he'd missed in his absence.

"Kathleen," he spoke with exasperation as she finished telling him about the widow being after Festus. "I thought I told you—"

"I didn't!" she brusquely cut him off. "I swear I didn't, Matt. I didn't have a hand in it. You know," she said and glided her hand up his calf. "Women sometimes just go after what they want."

"Is that so?"

"That's so," she told him matter-of-factly with a grin playing at the corners of her mouth. "Besides, Festus has more to worry about than Pearl Winton. His nephew's in town to shoot his ear off. Well, the little hangy-down part."

"What?" He jerked his head up and groaned as she rubbed down a sensitive spot on his thigh.

"You heard me right. The little hangy-down part," she restated and shifted on the eiderdown mattress, snickering as her husband mumbled about the Haggen kinfolk. She lifted the edge of her chemise up to her hips and gingerly straddled him. "Am I too heavy?" she inquired.

Matt peered at her over his shoulder, staring at her like she had asked for a divorce. "Not at all, Kitty." He stifled a groan as she better positioned herself to knead the inflamed muscles of his lower back, the sensation of the nightgown's cool cotton and her heated skin torturing him. Matt buried his face into the coverlet and was thankful his wife started talking about Pearl Winton again. The widow effectively diminished any stirrings within him. His wife's words droned in his ears as her hands worked their magic ministrations. He felt his eyes get heavy and gave into sleep.

Kitty heard a snore rumble from his chest as she finished her work. She climbed off him and pulled a blanket over him. Her eyes widened as a gunshot echoed through town and snapped her head towards her husband. He hadn't moved a muscle. She let out a sigh of relief. The man needed to rest. She eased into bed next to him and drifted off into a deep sleep, a task she hadn't managed since he'd been gone.


A noise disturbed his much-needed sleep. He thought about getting out of bed for morning rounds, but he remembered no one knew he was back in town. Matt settled deeper into the blankets and began to drift off, furrowing his brow at the repeated racket. He listened intently and realized the sound seemed metallic. He wondered if his wife had found the manacles. His cheeks flushed at the memory of the night she'd chained him to the brass bed, but the warmth of her body next to his told him she wasn't the source of the clatter. He almost figured out where the sound was coming from when it suddenly stopped.

He rolled over and circled his arms around her, grinning as she turned into him. He softly covered his lips over hers.

"Well, good morning," she murmured, nuzzling her nose against his.

"Let's stay in bed all day," Matt suggested.

Kitty arched an eyebrow brow at him. "Who are you? You sure look like the man I married, but he doesn't know how to take a day off."

"I'm a man that's missed his wife."

Kitty ran her fingers through his disheveled hair. "Oh, you have?"

He nodded his head and kissed the corner of her mouth. "I should show her how much I've missed her," he explained.

"Well, she won't stop you at all," she told him, voice dropping a pitch as his kisses traveled downward and eyes fluttering shut. Her eyes flew open at the incessant clanging coming from under the bed. "Matt?"

Her husband leaned to the side and looked down to the floor. His eyes landed on a fancy pair of boots won in a poker game. "Festus," he grumbled under his breath, grabbing one of the boots and yanking with all his strength. He furiously glared at the intruder.

"Matthew," Festus addressed, avoiding the steely, infuriated eyes of his friend as he scrambled to stand. "I didn't know you was back," he warbled and rubbed the back of his throbbing skull.

"Would that make a difference as to why you barged into my wife's room?" Matt growled.

Festus gulped nervously, momentarily fearing for his life. He wished the floor would swallow him. "I didn't know it was Miss Kitty's rooms. I ain't never been up here," he truthfully admitted. "I was lookin' for a place to hide. I ran by Sam and Rudy. They was gettin' the whiskey in. It was dark when I come in, and I heard the two of you," he hesitated and cleared his throat. "I was a-fixin' to leave. My gun got hung on that there post." He pointed to the brass frame and wiped his clammy forehead. "You 'bout knocked my noggin' clean off…a-draggin' me out like that."

Matt's jaw tightened as he stared in disbelief at the unwelcome guest. Kitty placed her hand on her husband's back, leveling her palm over his muscles in wide circles to calm him. "Matt, Festus wants to keep that little hangy-down part of his ear is all," she spoke tranquilly and leaned into him. "Sort it, Matt. I'll remind you how much you miss your wife later," she whispered with a wink.

"We'll get this settled. Come on, Festus," he said and scooted to the edge of the mattress. "Kitty," he stopped and looked at her fingers gripping his arm.

"Matt, you're," she paused and looked fleetingly at Festus, leaning in close to whisper in her husband's ear, "naked," she reminded. She bit into her bottom lip as his cheeks reddened. She glanced at the other man. "Festus, give him a minute or two. Wait downstairs. Tell Sam to give you a beer." She slipped out of bed as Festus bolted out of the room and wandered to her vanity while Matt dressed.

He glimpsed at his wife as he searched for his boots. "Kitty, where are – "

"By the fireplace," she answered, brushing her mane of loose, tangled waves. She set her hairbrush down as he came back to her. Kitty smiled as his arms slipped around her waist. She could feel his frustration with how the day had begun as he buried his face into her hair. "Matt," she started, closing her mouth as Festus hollered from the other side of the door. Quint had jailed Eliab for the murder of Jake Craig.


She blew onto the steaming brew in the mug and cocked a surprised brow as Matt pushed through the batwing doors, raising his hat in salutation to her. Minutes ago, she'd witnessed him throw a right hook to her former card dealer and arrest him for Jack Craig's murder. She hadn't expected to see him for hours.

He helped himself to the coffee and took a leisure sip, disregarding his wife's inquisitive stare. He flexed his stinging fingers and met her mystified eyes. "Kitty, I'm finishing this coffee then you and I are gonna go back upstairs."

"We are?"

Matt propped his arms on the bar and lowered his voice. "I wanted to stay in bed all day with you. Remember?"

"I know, but you have two Haggens to deal with, Matt."

He shook his head. "Nope. I've left that up to Quint. If I don't spend time with you, I'm gonna be mean enough to shoot his ear off myself," he told her, setting the cup down and taking her hand. He laced his fingers with hers and looked at the barkeep. "Sam, I'll tell you like I told the others. Don't disturb me."

Sam stopped washing a beer mug. "Yes, sir," he responded, beaming at the couple. He watched the pair meander to the stairway and finally out of sight.


Author's Note: Once again, credit to the writers of Eliab's Aim. If you haven't guessed, it's one of my favorite episodes. Anyway, the next chapter will posted later in the evening tomorrow.