This chapter contains plenty
of delicious dialogue and plot from the Gunsmoke episode Daddy-O,
Season 2 (June 1, 1957) written by John Meston, with extra juicy bits thrown in
by me personally, just for the fun of it.
“Come on in, Matt.”
Kitty drew open her bedroom door.
Trying hard not to recall what he and Kitty had been doing
the last time they were in this room together was difficult, to say the
least. Visions came unbidden to his mind
of her long red hair flowing down like fire, her slender back arching in
passionate abandon beneath him.
But the unsettled look on Kitty’s face quickly drew him back
to the present situation. As he removed
his hat, Matt asked kindheartedly, “What’s the trouble? Anything I can help you with?”
“No…no, thanks. It’s
not bad news.” She gave him an uncertain
smile.
“Well, what is it?”
“It’s my father…”
He exclaimed, “Your father?”
“Yeah, he’s comin’ here to Dodge tomorrow.”
Matt looked incredulous.
“Well, I thought your father was lost or something.”
Kitty explained, “I’ve never seen him. He deserted my mother in New Orleans a few
months after I was born.”
“I remember…you told me that.” Matt wondered how it must feel to know that
your father didn’t want you. One more
man in her life that had done her wrong…
“I must’ve told you about how he was a gambler and worked on
the riverboats.” Kitty walked to the
window and stared out as she spoke. “My
mother always said he was a very charming man.
The funny thing is she never held it against him, his deserting
her. She just always accepted it as the
way he was. I think in a strange sort of
way, she was proud of him.”
Matt thoughtfully considered her words. “Well, how do you feel about him, Kitty?”
“I don’t know… Same
as my mother, I guess.”
Matt wasn’t entirely convinced. He swallowed hard as she walked across the
floor toward him, her nearness after all this time apart intoxicating as a good
glass of aged, smoky bourbon. When she gazed
up at him with those enticing sapphire eyes, he had to mentally give himself a shake. “And you say he’s coming here tomorrow?”
“Yeah, on the afternoon stage.” Sudden apprehension dawned on her features. She anxiously asked, “Matt, would you go with
me to meet him? I feel kinda’ scared.”
He smiled understandingly, “Sure, I’ll go with ya’,” and
placed his hands comfortingly on her shoulders.
“Thanks,” she breathed in relief.
Matt tried to imagine what it must feel like to be a woman
alone in this part of the country. Kitty
had been self-sufficient for so long. Matt felt immensely pleased that he could be
there for her now, to support her in her time of need.
He squeezed her shoulders again reassuringly and suddenly became
intently aware of the heat of Kitty's body through the soft fabric beneath his
hands. She was wearing a floor length
dress with demure ruffles at the bodice, fit for a new business owner, instead
of the flirty, feathery saloon girl work dresses she so often wore.
His eyes bore into hers.
“Did you miss me, Kitty?”
She quietly admitted, “I missed you somethin’ awful, Matt.”
“I thought about you all the time, even during the dadblame
trial!”
She gave a girlish giggle, delighted that she’d been on his
mind in Hays City, and he grinned, absurdly happy that he could make her laugh
so.
Kitty wordlessly took his hat, hanging it on the bedpost,
then slid her hands up his broad chest and around his neck. Her lips barely grazed his, and she whispered
in Matt’s ear again, “I really did miss you somethin’ awful, Cowboy…”
Taking his large, capable hands in hers, she stepped
backwards, pulling him inexorably to the bed.
She sat down on the edge, reaching up to curl her slim fingers around
the tanned skin of the back of his neck, tugging his handsome, rugged face
toward hers for a feather-light kiss.
He reached around the small of her back, and gently Matt
laid her down on the bed, his kiss deepening with the want of her. Kitty whimpered quietly with need, breaking
away from his searching lips just long enough to breathlessly murmur, “Did you miss me, Matt?”
“Oh, honey, you have no idea…” Marshal Matt Dillon’s hungry mouth began
devouring the milky-white skin of Kitty’s tender neck as a rapturous sound
escaped her throat.
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“Walkin’ down the road with a pack on my back, pack on my back,
pack on my back…” Chester sang amiably
as he climbed the stairs at the Long Branch.
He pounded on Miss Kitty’s door.
“Mr. Dillon!” he called loudly.
Chester heard a faint scrambling sound as he waited, then
called, “I hate to bother you, Mr. Dillon, but we got ourselves a situation on
our hands…”
Matt jerked the door open and growled, “What in tarnation is
it, Chester?” Mr. Dillon looked for all
the world like he’d been a’ runnin’ a foot race.
Chester quickly explained, “Well, you know ol’ Tater Bugg,
the vegetable man who lives over by the crick?
Well, he’s a’ hollerin’ that he’s gonna kill Smarty Jones for stealin’
his turnips right outta’ the field every night for nigh on two weeks now. I think you’d better get on over there afore
there’s bloodshed.”
Mr. Dillon’s face looked plum murderous his own self. Chester added with a gulp, “…Mr. Dillon…sir.”
Miss Kitty appeared behind Mr. Dillon, hurriedly running her
fingers over her hair. “Why, Miss Kitty,
don’t you look purty today?” Her cheeks
were extra rosy and she had soft little curls escaping around her face that
looked so sweet and becoming.
Miss Kitty looked heavenward as she smoothed the front of
her dress and said, “Thank you kindly, Chester…um, what seems to be the
trouble?”
“Well, Miss Kitty, I know you and Mr. Dillon here are busy
catchin’ up on all the news since he’s been gone for so long, but we got us a prickly
situation over to the crick… You know
ol’ Tater Bugg…”
“Alright, alright..” Matt groused. “I’m comin’…”
“Don’t fergit yer hat there on the bedpost, Mr. Dillon. Don’t want to get sunstroke ridin’ out yonder
to Tater’s house. It’s a pretty fur
piece.”
Matt loudly cleared his throat and grabbed his hat
unceremoniously as he strode out of Miss Kitty’s door. “Thanks a lot, Chester. I’ll see you later, Kitty…”
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