Her silvery-toned laughter filled the night air as he insistently tugged on the fringed tassel of her velvet cloak. She turned around and reverently stared at her man. Her husband had devotedly danced with her all night instead of rooting himself to a corner to watch Doc Adams whirl her around the floor. Kitty smiled coyly as he released the tassel and closed the distance between them in one stride. She looped her index finger around his string tie and tugged on the material like he'd done moments ago. "You're supposed to be putting the horse and buggy away," she reminded and gazed up at him through her darkened lashes.
He moved his head up and down as he loomed over her. Matt was hypnotized by the provocatively low cut of the sweetheart neckline of her dusty rose colored silk dress. He'd had to remind himself throughout the night that it wasn't polite to stare. He could look intently all he wanted on the safety of their private front porch. His finger traced along the edge of rose-pink chiffon as her breath caught in her throat, and he met her eyes. He tapped his fingertip against the bunch of fabric molded into rosebuds at her cleavage. "You'll wait for me?" he asked and focused his eyes on her lips.
"Mmhmm," she murmured and smoothed her hand along his smoke-grey frock coat. "I'll wait," she promised and trailed her hand down his white starched shirt, stopping at his belt. She licked her lips and slid her hand farther down, cupping him gently.
"Kitty," he uttered with a soft groan.
"Time's a wastin', Cowboy," she stated in a hushed tone and pulled away from him as the horse impatiently nickered. She left him with a swift swish of her skirts and entered the house, closing the door behind her and heading for the stairway.
In the master bedroom, Kitty took out her earrings and removed her rings from her slender fingers. She stole a glance at herself in the cheval mirror and sat down on the mattress, seizing the shoe hook to remove her low-heeled boots. She felt breathless from the effort of getting her shoes unfastened and lay back. She whined as the hair comb stabbed into her scalp, snatching it out. Kitty settled into the cushion comfortably and flattened her hand over her sore ribs, massaging with her fingertips and closing her eyes.
He didn't know how long it had taken him, but he believed he might have set a record on unhitching a buggy and stabling a horse. Matt jogged up the stairs and stopped the Irish setter from bolting into the bedroom with him. His shoulders dropped at the sight of his sleeping wife. He approached the big bed and put his hands on his belt as he surveyed her, lying sideways, fully dressed, and a hand glued to her middle. "Sweetheart," he whispered and leaned over her. He frowned at her snored response. Matt shook his head and took off his holster, placing it on the dresser. He returned to his sleeping beauty and shook her shoulder as he flopped onto the mattress. "Kitty," he said and dodged her arm as she rolled onto her back. "Kathleen," he spoke louder and sighed, realizing he'd have to undress her and debating on his plan of action. Matt slapped his hand on his knee and stood, chuckling to himself each time she snuffled in her sleep. He lifted her leg, touching the embroidery of her silk stocking and following the delicate needlework. Matt followed the path of her leg and fumbled to unclip the garters holding her stockings. He carefully pulled the stockings down, laughing as she kicked her foot. He assumed he hit the ticklish spot of her knee. Matt gripped her hand and pulled her to sit up, cursing as she fell back onto the bed and wishing hopelessly that she'd wake up. He swore, pulling her back up and wrapping an arm around her. He lost count of how many times he cursed the back of the stunning dress, but he successfully had her out of it. Matt wiped his brow, getting her free of all the other annoying, numerous pieces of clothing. He scooted off the bed and hung the dress up. He pushed the pile of cotton onto the floor and stared at Kitty, slumbering peacefully in her chemise. He lifted her into his arms and properly placed her on her preferred side of the bed.
He stripped out of his clothes and walked to the fireplace, stoking the fire and noticing a long piece of ribbon atop her vanity. Matt marched to the dresser and found her wedding band. He put it on the length of ribbon and waltzed back over to the bed, holding the ribbon over her belly and patiently waiting. His eyes widened as the band started to move. He tried to remember what Festus had told him until Kitty's hand clamped over the ring.
"Matt," she drowsily screeched. "What are you doing with my ring?"
Matt uncomfortably cleared his throat. "Aunt Tory's test."
"You don't have an Aunt Tory," she mumbled and rubbed her eyes, pushing herself up. "Did you undress me?"
"Festus' Aunt Tory," he sheepishly clarified. "I did."
Her brows crinkled as she looked at him. "What does Festus' Aunt Tory have to do with you holding my wedding ring over me?"
"If it swings, clockerwise," he stopped and shook his head contritely, "clockwise," he amended, "the baby's a girl. If it swings counterclockwise, it's a boy."
She released her ring and shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, sure. Go ahead. You went to all this trouble, and I'd hate to disappoint Festus' Aunt Tory and all the other Haggenses."
"Kathleen," Matt grumbled at her mockery. "You gotta lay back," he instructed.
Kitty rolled her eyes and did as she was told, watching the ring swing back and forth. "Well, what does that mean?"
"I'm not sure. Do it again?"
"No. Matt, it's silly," she decided and patted the empty spot next to her, beckoning him to get into bed with her.
He stepped down carefully and strolled to the U.S. Marshal's office, stepping into the office to invite Matt to lunch at Delmonico's. Doc rubbed his face at the sight of the napping marshal. He stepped closer to the desk where Matt's long legs were stretched out and propped up. He didn't think the brick wall was the best pillow for the lawman's head. Doc pulled on his ear and looked around. He walked to the wood stove and picked up a chopped piece of wood, slamming it onto the floor. Doc chuckled as Matt bolted upright.
"Doc," Matt muttered and scrubbed his hand over his face.
"Had a busy first couple of days back, huh?"
"No,' he answered and rose to his feet with a stretch.
He wondered why Matt was catnapping at a relatively early hour. He'd catch him taking a nap after a meal from time to time. "Impending fatherhood keeping you awake at night?" Doc questioned and poured a cup of coffee, giving it to Matt.
"The mother is," he slipped and looked chagrinned as soon as the words left his mouth. Matt sat on the edge of his desk and stared into the brew, hoping Doc hadn't heard him. He knew he'd heard him perfectly as his loafers came into view.
"What's wrong with Kitty?" he inquired as his face contorted with worry.
"Nothing."
"Matt, you said she's keeping you up at night."
"Yeah," he returned and brought the mug to his lips, taking an unhurried drink. His mind flashed to the nights of him returning home. He was most fond of the night she'd been waiting for him in front of the fireplace without a stitch of clothing on.
"Does she need sleeping powders?"
Matt briefly contemplated drugging his wife to give himself a rest, but he thought better of it. He set the mug on the desk and chewed the inside of his cheek. "I don't think so, Doc."
"For heaven's sake, Matt!" Doc yelled and threw his arms down at his sides. "What in thunder is the matter with Kitty?"
Matt considered the physician's question and his wife's behavior. He raked a hand through his hair and crossed his legs. He glanced at the older man and heaved a sigh. "Doc, maybe something's wrong with me," he alleged.
Doc glared fiercely as his frustration boiled over. He wasn't getting clear answers. He was concerned about Kitty and the baby. Now, Matt was thinking there was something wrong with him. Doc hoped Matt wasn't turning into Mr. Travis. That man had a whole list of aches and pains when his wife was expecting, and the symptoms worsened once she had the baby. "Matt," he blustered. "I swear if you don't tell me what in thunder is the matter, I'll take you over my knee somehow!"
Matt's cheeks went red as a beetroot as he scanned the room. He leaned in close to Doc and lowered his voice. "I can't," he hesitated and looked down at the ground. "I can't seem to satisfy her."
"What do you mean? You can't seem to—oh," Doc muttered, grasping the meaning. He felt the tops of his ears burn, and he tugged on his earlobe. He glimpsed at Matt and walked over to the work table, staring at the checkerboard as he carefully considered his words.
"Is there something wrong with me?" Matt asked and dropped into the chair across from him. "Doc, is there?"
Doc Adams raised his hand. "Nope. You're a young, virile man. There's not a thing wrong with you. It's completely natural for Kitty to be," he hedged and eyed his friend, "how she's being," he fumbled with his words and drew in a deep breath. "Matt, look, pregnancy affects every woman differently and in ways a man simply can't understand. At some point and probably soon, she won't be able to stand you touching her."
"Oh, I think you're wrong about that, Doc," Matt asserted.
He chuckled at Matt's confidence. "All right. As I was trying to say, enjoy it while you can," he reiterated and stood, pushing his chair in. "Now, can we please go to lunch and forget about this conversation?"
"Sure."
"Thank heavens," Doc muttered and followed behind the tall lawman. He shook his head and thought of how he wouldn't be able to look at the auburn-haired saloon owner for days without blushing.
Kitty took an appreciative sip of coffee and leaned back in her chair. "Oh, Sam, I missed your coffee," she told him.
"It's good to have you back," he said and resumed setting up the chairs for the day.
"Miss Kitty! Miss Kitty!" Louie Pheeters shouted as he burst through the batwing doors. "I got him. I went straight there and told him to come see you."
"Thank you, Louie," she said and noticed his hands trembling. "How about a whiskey as a thank you?"
"Oh, Miss Kitty, that'd be too much," he replied and twisted his hat in his shaky hands.
"Not at all. Sam," she called to him and slanted her head towards Louie. She watched Sam escort him to the bar and pour a whiskey. Kitty smiled at Quint as he sat down in front of her.
"You wanted to see me?" he asked and glanced behind him at Louie. "He made it sound like it was important."
She laughed softly. Louie had spent a solid five minutes staring at her in wonder. He jumped at the chance to run an errand for her since he hadn't seen her in weeks. "Well, it's important to me. I didn't want to come to you because it might look suspicious to some folks around here," she said. She never knew where Matt would be in town at any moment, and she didn't need to get caught.
"Oh?" Quint put his arms on the table and curiously raised his dark brows. "Would some folks be a U.S. Marshal?"
"Mmhmm," she hummed as she finished her coffee. "I need to you make somethin' for me if you can."
"What?"
"Two horseshoes."
"Simple enough, Kitty."
She glanced at the entrance of the business. "In the shape of a heart."
"A heart?" Quint's featured settled into a dubious expression. He wasn't generally asked to fashion horseshoes into a heart.
Kitty dipped her head. "Linked together. Can you do it?"
"I'll try. Kitty, what's this for? When do you need it?"
"Before the first of December. Iron is the gift for a six-year wedding anniversary," she educated the blacksmith.
"Six years," he chirped and let out a low, astonished whistle.
"Seventy-two months, three hundred and twelve weeks, two thousand one hundred ninety-one days, and," she figured and ceased her calculations at the look on Quint's face.
"That's a long time with Matt Dillon," he commented.
"That's just being married to him."
"I don't know anyone better suited to put up with that man," he quipped and sat up straighter as the topic of conversation strode into the Long Branch. Quint stood up and pushed the wooden chair under the table. "It was good to see you, Kitty. Matt," he acknowledged and left the saloon. He went back to his shop and set about figuring out he'd style horseshoes into linked hearts.
Author's Note: I know I'm slacking on replying to reviews, but I do appreciate them! Work has been hectic with the holidays looming. In my line of work, it always gets that way. Hopefully, I'll be a bit quicker with updating tomorrow. Thank you all for reading!
