“Kitty, wake up! You’re dreaming…”
Gasping for air, eyes wide with fright. Confusion when she stares back at him. Then a burst of anguished tears. Strong arms swallow and soothe her, rubbing her shuddering back through the thin shift, stroking her tangled hair, letting her weep. Liquid eyes sorrowful, blue gaze intense.
“I’ve never killed anybody before.”
“It’s hard, honey, I know.”
“I ended that man’s life. He’s dead because of me.”
“I’d be dead if you hadn’t.”
A distressed intake of breath.
“Come ‘ere, Kitty.”
Arms and bodies protectively entwine on the soft bed. Quiet, heart-rending tears linger long into the night.
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Kitty woke to an empty bed. Matt was gone. She jumped up and hurried to the outhouse. No Matt. Wrapping her arms around her body, covered only by the thin, cotton shift in the chilly spring morning, she raked her hair out of her eyes and scanned the surrounding area. Where on earth could he be?
A shot rang out nearby, and her heart caught painfully in her throat. Then she saw him, walking a little unsteadily toward her out of the trees, an old rifle slung over one shoulder and a bloody rabbit clutched in his hand. Letting out a relieved sigh, she put her hands on her hips and declared crossly, “Matt Dillon, where were you? You scared me half to death!”
He gave a cheeky grin and explained, “I had to check on Buck. Had to fix up his leg. He’s the only way we have out of here.” He squinted at her in the bright morning sunlight, and she felt badly that his head must still be pounding. "He, uh, had a rock from the river hung in his hoof. I dug it out--he has a bad bruise but should be okay in a few days."
“Hopefully, you’ll be feeling much better by then as well,” she said with a small smile, suddenly shy, remembering Matt’s comforting arms in the dead of night, his whispered words of reassurance. She’d fallen asleep cocooned in his embrace, his fingers caressing her damp cheeks.
He proudly offered her the rabbit, and she took it gingerly between two fingers, a disconcerted look on her face. “Why, thank you, Matt…but, um, I’ve never skinned a rabbit before, or anything else for that matter.” Her nose wrinkled and she bit her lip.
“I shot it…” he conceded. “So I can skin it and cook it, too.”
“You skin it for me, Cowboy, and I can manage the rest.” Her eyes danced with amusement as she gratefully handed the limp animal back. “You need to eat something a little more substantial.” She shaded her eyes with one hand and looked into the distance. “Matt, look there! I think someone’s coming on a horse.”
He glanced to where she gestured. “Yeah, I think you’re right.” Then he looked pointedly at her, his gaze appreciatively taking in her appearance. “Uh, little lady, you might wanna go get dressed first, before, uh…”
Her eyes darted down and she saw that in the bright light of day her shift was nearly transparent. “Oh!” she blushingly exclaimed, swatting Matt on the arm and skedaddling back into the house.
Matt happily laughed out loud, holding his poor bruised side, then shook his head as he turned to watch the horse and rider approaching the homestead.
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“Harlan Nesbit, ma’am…” Mr. Nesbit doffed his hat at Kitty and Matt from atop his horse. “Just riding through Gray County, checkin’ on my neighbors since the big storm. See if anybody needs help.”
“Well, thank you kindly, Mr. Nesbit, but we don’t really live here.” Kitty had hurriedly donned the green dress and rushed breathlessly back outside barefoot, but she hoped that the traveler wouldn’t be able to tell. She didn’t want to miss a word of what he had to say. She explained, “We were just passing through and found this empty homestead to use as a shelter from the storm.”
“Yeah, this is Coy and Rosemary Wills’ old place, but I saw smoke comin’ out the chimney. Thought I’d stop by. Where are you two headed?”
Matt answered, “Up past Cimarron. A little ranch formerly owned by Kitty’s uncle, Solomon Pierce. She’s inherited the place.”
“Oh, yes, I know Mr. Pierce well. A gentleman, he was.” He bowed his head to Kitty. “My sympathies, Mrs….?
Matt spoke up quickly, “Dillon.”
Kitty’s eyes widened nearly imperceptibly, but she didn’t say a word.
“My sympathies, Mrs. Dillon. Your uncle was a good soul, and so was his wife.”
Kitty got a lump in her throat again at the thought of the family she’d never known, would never have a chance to know. She cleared her throat. “Thank you, Mr. Nesbit.”
“And I’m afraid I have some bad news for you. The Pierce ranch suffered some flood damage. Barns and fences...that kind of thing. But nothing that can’t be replaced,” he hastily reassured her.
Kitty’s heart sank down to her toes. A sizeable chunk of the money she would need to purchase half-interest in the Long Branch from Bill Pence had just slipped through her fingers. “Thank you for telling me, Mr. Nesbit,” she replied, trying not to sound dejected. But disappointment welled up inside her. What would she do to raise the remainder of the cash? She shuddered to think of returning to the Long Branch and being forced to continue in her present position, entertaining men in her room nightly. The thought turned her stomach. Her disheartened gaze met Matt’s, but he squeezed her arm reassuringly.
Matt spoke up, “You wouldn’t be heading in the direction of Dodge City, now, would you?”
“No, Mr. Dillon, I’m afraid not. I’ve only got a couple more homesteads to check out, and then I’m headed back to my own place.”
“That’s alright, Nesbit. We should be ready to head out again in the next few days.”
“Good luck to you, Mr. and Mrs. Dillon. Until we meet again…”
The man wheeled his horse and headed across the prairie. Kitty’s shoulders sagged at the thought of the lost income from the flood-damaged ranch while Matt patted her back comfortingly. He murmured softly to her, “We’ll figure it out.” She slipped her fingers into his hand and squeezed tightly.
Then Kitty spoke with more assurance than she felt, “Matt, you go skin that rabbit quick so you can get back into bed. You look terrible. I’ll go start making us a rabbit stew.”
tbc
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