The three of them stood unobtrusively in the back. Kitty wore a hat with a veil draped down over her face, tucked under her chin, in hopes of being unrecognized. Little chance of that, with the strapping six foot, seven inch marshal of Dodge City as her escort. The marshal’s woman cut a striking figure herself even with her face shadowed by a veil, with red hair that glinted in the relentless sun and a seemingly flawless complexion, aided by paint to help cover the residual scars of her ordeal. She wore a modest traveling suit of brown, very fashionable and well-made, but high-necked and circumspect, something one wore when one did not wish to draw unwanted attention.
Kitty Russell never dreamed there’d come a day in her life when she’d hide in her rooms, afraid to come out, fearful of what people might be saying about her. She’d always been strong, independent, and unmindful of what others said. You couldn’t be a woman saloon owner in this world and let other people’s gossip trouble you or you wouldn’t be in business too awful long.
But Jude Bonner had taken that away from her. The whole town knew what had happened to her that fateful day, and she could imagine how gossip had spread throughout the countryside. Sensational news spread fast in these parts. She wondered how many people in the crowd gathered here now to watch an outlaw die knew what he and his men had done and if some of the quiet whispering behind hands was about her. It made her sick to her stomach. But she had braved her fears to come out today of all days.
Matt had not wanted her to come. A hanging was violent and messy, and he didn’t want Kitty to be subjected to that, after everything that she had suffered already. But she explained to him that she somehow needed to witness it. She needed to see for herself when Jude Bonner was dead and gone, and perhaps then she might cease having the nightmares that plagued her in the dark of the night, robbing them both of sleep and making her so anxious she sometimes was even afraid to close her eyes in the evening.
Suddenly there was a low murmuring in the crowd, and they all peered back to see several watchful Hays City lawmen carrying guns and escorting Jude Bonner from the jailhouse, wrists handcuffed and ankles chained. He was a powerful man, tall and strong and heavily muscled, easily capable of holding down a woman half his size and committing unspeakable crimes against her.
Even chained and guarded, the sight of him made Kitty’s blood go cold, but she felt Matt’s arm latch tightly around her waist while Doc wrapped a supporting arm around her shoulders. Doc had outright refused to let her make this trip without him along. Kitty, now weak in the knees and suddenly doubting her decision to come today, was unutterably grateful that both men stood here by her side.
Bonner’s eyes raked the crowd as he trudged toward the gallows, his expression defiant while the muscles in his jaws worked angrily. He walked past them accompanied by the jangling of chain links dragging along the dusty street, and he suddenly pulled up short when he spotted the tall marshal. His eyes narrowed at Matt Dillon, but his attention quickly shifted to the striking redhead at his side. The lawmen attempted to push him along with the butts of their guns, but he jerked against them as his eyes widened in recognition. Jude Bonner spoke in a low voice, “Lady, I thought I killed you.” His head tilted back and his lip curled as he added, ”Guess I underestimated you.”
Matt and Doc reacted quickly, clenching their fists and stepping forward to cut him off. But Kitty silently raised her hands and halted them both. She took a step, lifting the veil so that Bonner could see her face. She confronted the demon of her nightmares and resolved to show no fear. With a delicately raised brow and a glint in her eye, she quipped, “Well, I guess that means you were dead wrong, Sunshine.”
The Hays City lawmen jerked Bonner along before he had a chance to answer, and he glared over his shoulder at the Dodge Marshal and his formidable woman as he marched to the gallows to die.
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The stagecoach ride back from Hays City had been long and hot and choked with dust. She and Doc and Matt had been the only passengers, and Kitty had been immensely relieved at that. They’d all three been in a quiet, contemplative mood after the dark gallows scene they’d witnessed. It was difficult, witnessing a man’s death throes, but Matt assured her that Jude Bonner deserved it without a doubt. He’d said it with gritted teeth and narrowed eyes that told her he still hadn’t gotten over what had happened to Kitty, just like she hadn’t either.
Who could have known that the fateful events of one afternoon could hurt a person so deeply? That the repercussions would be so long-lasting and spread so readily to the ones who were closest to you? But every day now was a little better. And she’d learned that’s how she had to handle things—one day at a time. Any more was too overwhelming for her.
She hoped Matt was not getting too frustrated with her. She didn’t know when they’d ever gone so long without making love before. But Doc had said he’d “explained things” to Matt. Hopefully Matt understood that it was slow-going, being able to let someone touch you again once you’d been beaten senseless, every private part of you exposed, ravaged, taken, again and again until you nearly died.
She was absolutely terrified that some things between her and Matt would never return to normal. She worried that he would become tired of waiting and leave her. But Matt had been nothing but gentle and kind and reassuring towards her. He was careful never to surprise her with his touch. And he’d certainly shown no indication that he was ready to give up on her. Those were just her own private fears rearing their ugly heads.
They slept side by side on her bed each night, and he held her hand until she fell asleep, in hopes that she would not wake screaming from another vivid, violent nightmare. He would rock her gently when she awoke in utter terror, stroking her hot, fevered cheek as she sobbed and rubbing her perspiring back, soothing her softly, softly, until she had calmed enough to try and sleep again. But now, she wondered, since the monster in her dreams was really dead, would he cease torturing her sleep? She prayed it was so.
She sat at her dresser in her nightgown, brushing her hair before bed, when Matt knocked quietly. He’d taken to knocking lately because he didn’t want to surprise her again like he had during her bath. Thankfully, most of the marks on her body had faded, except for a puckered scar in her side where the bullet hole had been, but she still tended to be jumpy about such things. She was anxious and protective of her body. It was supremely difficult to unlearn those behaviors you’d acquired instinctively through an unspeakably traumatic experience.
“Come in, Matt,” she called and smiled when he appeared behind her in the mirror.
He wordlessly held out his hand, the corners of his mouth turning up, and she passed him her brush. He’d always enjoyed brushing her hair out when they were together in the evenings, and it was pure balm to the soul for her as well—the soothing bristles warming her scalp, smoothing out the tangles of the day. She closed her eyes and let him do his comforting work, feeling her muscles relax and all the tension flow out of her body, right through that hairbrush, it seemed. She gave a little hum of pleasure, and then the brushing stopped. Opening her eyes, she found him watching her in the mirror.
“What?” she asked curiously.
He cleared his throat and asked with a hopeful smile, “Miss Kitty, will you do me the honor of going to supper?”
Her brow crinkled, “Oh, Matt, I don’t know...”
He straddled the padded bench beside her and pleaded, “Come on, honey. You can’t stay locked up forever...”
“I know I can’t, Matt. It’s just that...”
“Just what? Kitty, you look fine.” He laid the brush aside, taking her hand in his. “I know you were worried about your appearance early on, but...” He shook his head in frustration. “Sweetheart, if you get any prettier, I’m not going to be able to stand it.” He suddenly grinned at her and she couldn’t completely smother a smile as she glanced up into his twinkling eyes.
“But, Matt, I don’t want people to talk.”
“Kitty, you’ve never worried about people and their talk before, not since I first met you!”
“But this is different, Matt.”
“I know it’s different, honey, but let me tell you something.” He placed a finger under her chin and gently raised her eyes to look into his own. “People in this town care about you, Kitty. Do you know how many men rode out in a posse to catch that son-of-a-bitch Bonner and his men? Half the town!”
She urgently squeezed his hand as she listened to him talk.
“People ask me about you every single day! They’re worried about you!” He raised an eyebrow. “Even those old biddies and gossips who talk bad about everybody.”
Kitty snorted out an unladylike laugh.
“Honestly! You don’t believe me you can ask Doc. Or Festus. Folks are driving us crazy. You are sorely missed.”
“I am?” she breathed, admiring the way his lashes framed his honest blue eyes, crinkled at the corners from years of squinting out in the hot prairie sun.
“You are. I miss you, sweetheart.” He rolled his eyes as he complained, “I’m forced to eat at Delmonico’s with Festus and Doc all the time, for pete’s sake.”
She chuffed out a laugh again and stroked the back of his hand with her fingers. “Is that so bad?”
“Well, I’d rather have my girl by my side, wearin’ a pretty dress and smellin’ pretty, too, instead of two old goats who argue all the time.”
“Hmm...well, maybe, now that you put it that way...” She bit her lip and then smiled.
“Miss Kitty, will you please go to supper with me tomorrow night? I would be honored to escort you.”
Her eyes traveled to his soft lips as he spoke, the same soft lips that had asked her to be his girl when they sat under the shade of the cottonwood tree at that old shack where the Gunther brothers had taken her, more years ago than she cared to remember. The same soft lips that told her he needed her when she lay broken and hurting in Doc’s office. And the same sweet, soft lips that comforted her when she woke from her nightmares, soothing her and telling her everything would be alright.
Her eyes were drawn to those lips, and she drew a finger gently down his cheek, murmuring, “I would be proud to go to supper with you, Marshal Dillon.”
His voice hitched a note higher. “You would?”
“Yes, I would. How can a girl turn down an offer from the most eligible bachelor in town?” Her eyebrow arched and her lips pursed mischievously.
“Bachelor?” he snorted, then grabbed his hat and stood.
“Where are you going?” she questioned in surprise.
“I’m leaving. I’ll pick you up at six tomorrow for supper. How’s that sound?”
“Well, okay I guess...”
Jamming his hat on his head, he called “See ya’, Kitty,” and closed the door behind him.
She placed a hand on her hip, muttering, “Well, if that don’t beat all...”
Suddenly, the door opened and Matt popped his head back inside, piping up, “I’ve got rounds to do tonight. Festus is busy. I’ll be back in about an hour. What would you do if you had nightmares??” He started to close the door again, but, on second thought, added, “But don’t think you’re going to take advantage of me before our dinner date. I have standards, you know...” The door closed behind him again. Kitty laughed and shook her head, climbing into bed to read a book until Matt got home.
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Festus announced, “Now, see here, I’m a payin’ tonight. This here is a selly-bration.” He dug in the pocket of his best pair of pants and came out with a few wadded bills which he unwaveringly tossed on the checkered tablecloth at Delmonico’s, giving a firm nod and a grunt and daring anybody to say a word.
His three companions sat with open mouths at Festus’s pronouncement. They couldn’t remember a time when he’d willingly paid for a drink, let alone a meal for four people.
Festus was dressed in his best gingham shirt, buttoned to the very top, hair slicked down, and he smelled like he might’ve even had a bath before he came. Placing a hand in the middle of his chest, he proclaimed earnestly, “Miss Kitty, I shore have missed you somethin’ fierce and I’m tickled pink that you’ve...well, you’ve come back to us.” He pressed his lips together, gazing at her sincerely while her eyes misted with tears, and determinedly added, “I surely do mean that, with all my heart.”
Kitty realized the whiskey he’d shared with Doc after supper had helped to oil Festus’s usual reserve, but she truly appreciated the sentiment all the same. She knew his intent was genuine, and she reached across the table to grasp his hand in both of hers. “Thank you, Festus,” she smiled warmly, blinking back the mutinous tears.
She’d promised herself she wouldn’t get emotional this evening, her first out in public in Dodge, but the citizens of this town seemed to be conspiring against her. When Matt had picked her up at six o’clock promptly, as promised, she had wanted to slip down the back stairs, but Matt had insisted they go through the Long Branch, as usual. Everyone wanted to see her, he’d explained. Might as well get it all over with tonight.
She’d made her way down the staircase into the saloon with great trepidation in her heart, wondering what people would be thinking of her, if they would stare, what they would say. Then she was met with a burst of piano music. The room full of happily drinking men and gaily-dressed saloon girls had launched into a poorly rehearsed song, a raucous version of Stephen Foster’s classic, with apologies to the songwriter later from Sam, called “I Dream of Kitty with the Bright Red Hair.” She’d laughed until she had to wipe tears from the corners of her eyes, and Sam had hugged her so tightly she thought he’d burst her stays, or maybe even her stitches if they hadn’t already been healed, murmuring in her ear, “It’s so good to have you back, Miss Kitty. It just wasn’t the same around here without you.”
The short walk from the saloon to Delmonico’s had taken quite a while, as they were stopped every few steps by ordinary folks, young and old, respectable and some not so much, to shake her hand and ask after her health politely, their eyes shining sincerely. Kitty was so relieved at her reception, she didn’t know what to do.
And so she’d held on tight to Matt’s arm while he strutted happily down the street with his best girl, the prettiest girl in all of Dodge, he said, even though she protested to Matt that she was a bit long in the tooth to be anybody’s “girl.” He’d just thrown back his head and laughed. She could tell he was relieved as well, but it felt so good to be walking on Front Street with the man she loved more than life itself that she was, for the first time in a long time, simply glad to be alive.
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After supper, she and Matt had parted company with Doc and Festus in front of the Long Branch. Kitty had kissed both of them soundly on their blushing cheeks before they’d sauntered inside, arm in arm, to continue their “selly-bration.”
It was nearly a full moon, and the evening had cooled off nicely, so Matt wanted to take her for a buggy ride. When they were safely out of town and away from prying eyes, she scooted up close to Matt, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, as was their custom on their occasional private moonlit drives to the river. She gave a deep, contented sigh, nestling into him and inhaling his familiar scent with the addition of some fancy shaving soap she could detect on his smooth skin this fine evening.
“Kitty, are you alright?” This was her first night out and about, and he didn’t want to push her too far.
“I’m just fine, Matt Dillon.” She gave him a squeeze around the middle and added, “Thank you.”
He grunted, then repeated, “Thank you?”
“For encouraging me when I needed it. For knowing when I was ready, even if I didn’t.”
He stopped the horse at a small clearing next to the river. They watched the moon shining on the water-- magical, flickering silver on black, listening to the frogs and the crickets and holding each other tight. Feeling the steady, reassuring heartbeat of the other, measuring the breath of the other where their bodies melted together. On a night like this, when the world was perfect, she felt like the two of them together were actually one.
Kitty reached up and removed Matt’s hat, and he leaned down to murmur in a low, rumbling voice that tickled her belly, “Can I kiss you now, honey?”
She ducked her head and whispered, “You know, I like it when you call me that.”
He touched her soft cheek, marveling at how beautiful she still was after all the time that had passed between them. “You do, huh?”
“I sure do.” He saw her eyes tilt coyly up at him in the bright darkness.
“What’ll I get if I call you ‘honey’ again?” He nuzzled her ear warmly. “Will you be my girl?” Giving a throaty chuckle, he added, “...honey?”
She nuzzled him right back, breathing in the heady scent of Matt Dillon and his fancy soap. “I sure will.”
He gave her a charming smile, the same lopsided grin she’d fallen in love with so many years ago, and then he admitted, “You know, I’ve been waitin’ for this for a very long time.”
She threaded her fingers in his soft, graying curls and breathed, “Well then, what are you waitin’ for? Shut up and kiss me, Cowboy.”
end
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