Monday, February 25, 2013

Deliver Us from Evil, Ch. 2 "Love and Duty"


Several days earlier:

“Dammit, Matt, why can’t Chester go instead?”  Kitty Russell stood with her hands obstinately on her hips, voluptuous figure draped in soft, lacy pantaloons and fine boned corset, arms slipped carelessly into an ivory dressing gown. 

“Now, Kitty, you know darn well why Chester can’t go.  Would you trust Chester to take a prisoner to Hays?”  Matt took off his hat and tossed it on Kitty’s unmade bed, running his fingers through his dark, wavy hair in frustration.  “And besides, you know Chester’s not even an official deputy.”

“Well, maybe you’re right about that…”  She pressed her lips together in aggravation.  “But, Matt, we’ve had this trip planned for two weeks!”

“Two weeks ago Ernie Spivey hadn’t attempted to rob a bank and went and shot a man in the bargain, Kitty.”

“But, Matt…”  Her blue eyes were pleading.

Matt’s heart constricted in his chest.  He had only one answer for her and she wasn’t going to like it, not one bit.  “It’s my job.  I don’t have a choice.”

Her face fell as she looked at him.  Then the lines of her mouth hardened stubbornly.  “Well, just because you’re not going doesn’t mean I can’t go.”  Kitty Russell stalked to her wardrobe and dragged out a carpetbag and black riding habit, tossing them onto the rumpled bedcovers.

Matt’s eyes widened incredulously.  “What?”

“You heard me, Marshal Dillon.  I’m a big girl, and I’m going to the ranch by myself.”  Striding to the dresser, she grabbed the hairbrush and began furiously brushing her hair in front of the mirror.

Matt moved to stand behind her, uneasy at the turn in conversation.  “You can’t go by yourself.”

Kitty paused in mid-brushstroke.  “Says who?”

“Says…”  Matt bit his tongue before he said something that would get him in even hotter water.  “It’s just not safe.”

“Not safe?  It’s just a day’s ride.”  Her sculpted brows rose challengingly.  “You think I can’t manage that by myself?”

“You remember what happened the first time we made that trip to Cimarron??”  He placed his hands firmly on her shoulders.

“That trip doesn’t count,” she stated adamantly.

“Doesn’t count?”  He shook his head and gave her shoulders a squeeze. 

“Yes, ‘cause you had that crazy prize fighter Sam Keeler on your trail.”

“Yeah, Kitty, and a rainstorm and a flashflood and…”

“You don’t have to remind me.  I was there.”  Her eyes narrowed at him in the mirror, and she shrugged his hands off her shoulders. 

“Exactly.  So you should know what can happen on a trip like this.”  His temper was beginning to fray at her mulishness.  “That’s why I don’t want you to go alone!”  Fretfully, he began to pace around the room. 

“Oh, Matt, we’ve been back three times since then, and nothing bad has happened on a single one of those trips.  I’ll be fine.”  Holding a hairpin in her mouth, she crossly attempted to coil her long hair into submission.

“That’s what you always say.”  He gave a deep sigh.  “And then something invariably goes wrong.”
“Not always!”  She bad-temperedly gave up on putting her hair up and threw the hairpin back on the dresser, weaving the fiery tresses into a long braid instead.  “And I feel bad.  We didn’t even get to go to Celia’s funeral.”

“It’s been three whole months since Virgil Ware’s wife died, Kitty.  A visit can wait a little while longer until after I get this prisoner to Hays.”

“Something always comes up and interrupts our plans, Matthew Dillon.”  She turned to face him, hands planted stubbornly on her hips again.  “Always.”

“Kitty, you knew about my job five years ago.”  He took a step closer and took her thick braid into his large hand, his calloused thumb caressing the silky strands.  “You know I have duties to perform, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“But…”

“There you go again.  No ‘buts.’  I don’t want you going to visit Virgil Ware by yourself.”

“Aha…”  Her mouth dropped open and she took a step back.  “The truth at last.”

His eyebrows knitted together in consternation.  “Huh?” 

“You just don’t want me visiting Virgil without you around.  Are you jealous, Matt Dillon?”

“Of course not,” he said with a little too much vehemence.  “Why would you say that?”

She shook her head.  “I never understood why you didn’t trust him.”

“Cause he’s always been sweet on you, Kitty!”

“But that was before he was married!  And his wife just died, Matt!”

His voice rose in pitch.  “All the more reason.  He’s lonely and depressed now!”

“Oh, Matt!  I declare!” she exclaimed in exasperation, walking to look out the window onto the streets of Dodge below.  “How can you think that about him?  He’s a good man.”

He folded his arms across his chest.  “Just because he’s a good man doesn’t mean his feelings have changed about you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve seen the look in his eyes.”  His glance narrowed in annoyance.  “He’s never gotten over you.  He settled when he married Celia.”

“Settled?”  She crossed her arms and eyed him askance.  “What an awful thing to say.” 

“But it’s true, Kitty.  Listen, I like Virgil, I really do.  And I know that you like to visit your family’s home place.”  He placed a hand insistently on her arm.  “I understand that.  But I’d really rather you do it with me around, alright?”

“Oh, Matt, you’re impossible!”  She angrily shook his hand off.  “I said I’m going to the ranch by myself and I meant it.  You can join me when you get back from Hays and…whatever other official duties you have to perform before you can spend some time with me!”

“Kitty, that’s not fair.  You know I have to…”

“Yeah, Matt, you always have to do something.”  She walked determinedly to the dresser and began rummaging for clothing.  “So why don’t you go do something official right now so I can finish packing?  Good day, Marshal Dillon.”

tbc

ljljljljlj





No comments:

Post a Comment