Set Fire to the Rain 2, Ch. 19 "How Do I Love Thee?"

This fanfiction is intended for mature readers due to the vivid depiction of a consensual adult relationship.  The setting is First Season, post-The Preacher.  I am not an expert on Victorian poets or poetry in general, so just sit back and enjoy the stanzas o’ love, and don’t worry about the particulars. 

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How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.*

The edge of Kitty’s warm bed dipped low and she was abruptly wrested from sleep, rolling toward the bulky disturbance.  Groaning, she grimaced at the bright light and attempted to block out the offending noonday sun with an arm thrown across her eyes.  A husky, masculine voice drawled, “Mornin’, Sunshine.”

Her eyes shot open when she suddenly recalled what she and the owner of that familiar voice had been doing late last night in the intoxicating light of the full moon, when she’d been drunk with passion for the want of him.  Memories of intimate kisses hungrily given and rapturously accepted rushed over her and made her dizzy just thinking about it. 

And mortified.  Quick as a flash, Kitty yanked the cotton sheet over her head before Matt could see her face turn scarlet.  Oh, lordy, lordy, the wanton things that she had done only hours ago in the seductive dark of night made her blush now in the cold light of day.  She felt the bed shake rhythmically and she realized he was chuckling.  Why, the nerve of that man!

Sapphire blue eyes and riotous, flaming curls peaked over the top of the sheet.  “Dammit, Matt Dillon, don’t you dare laugh.”  Her incensed voice came out muffled beneath the covers.

Matt suddenly wore his best poker face.  “I’m not, honest-to-Pete…  Let me see you.”  He reached up and tugged the sheet off her face.  “Much better.”

She eyed him warily, her cheeks still burning. 

The corners of his mouth twitched the tiniest bit.  “I don’t know that I’ve ever seen you embarrassed before.”

“This is not funny, Matt.”

“I know, honey.”  He leaned over and kissed her forehead, then sat back and contritely took her hand.  “I’m sorry.”

She squeezed his fingers and looked anywhere but at his eyes.  Kitty couldn’t shake the heated memory of his generous mouth… kissing …ravishing…  Oh my… 

Matt opened her hand and reverently kissed her palm.  His soft lips brushed her sensitive skin and made her shiver as he kissed the pads of each of her fingers one at a time.  His lips trailed down her inner arm to its crook, where his mouth suckled the soft, delicate skin there until he’d raised prickly gooseflesh on her entire body.  He murmured between kisses, “Don’t be embarrassed, Kitty.  You know I can’t ever get enough of you.”

Her breath was shallow in her chest and she started to protest, “Matt…”

But he stopped her with a lingering, wet kiss to her lips, saying “I’ll visit you again when I can.”  He gazed hotly into her eyes and kissed her once again, deeper this time.  “Would you like that?”

She looked down at their entwined hands lying in her lap and whispered breathlessly, “Yes, Matt, I want you to come back.”

“I’d better go now.”  His lazy, amorous gaze gave way to a small, mischievous grin.  “I think Doc might be getting suspicious.”

Kitty watched as Matt slipped back out her bedroom door, and she fell heavily back against the fluffy pillows, sighing as she wondered when they’d manage to be alone together again.  She could feel her face flushing hot like a house afire at the mere prospect…

tbc

*Elizabeth Barrett Browning

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Set Fire to the Rain 2, Ch. 18 "Insomnia"

The following is intended for mature readers due to sexual situations.   Feel free to skip this chapter if smut biscuits aren’t to your liking.  Actually, it’s purely romantic about 1200 words into the chapter, so you’d be safe to read until things go south…quite literally.  Smut lovers can carry on until the sweet end…

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It’s nearly midnight.  I’m lying here in the silver blue moonlight, wide awake and listening to the sound of my own breathing.  That and a lonesome coyote in the distance, who sounds a little bit like I feel.  Guess I’ve been sleeping so much lately that it’s finally caught up with me. 

Matt hasn’t made it back from Cimarron yet.  Maybe that’s another reason I can’t sleep.  Worry for him.  I know I’ve got no call to be anxious.  He’s been taking care of himself for a good long while now.  But I can’t help it.  We’ve been together, day in and day out, through rain and flood and sickness…  It feels unsettling to be separated from him after all this time.  

I didn’t quite know what to do with myself today while he was gone.  I did sleep an awful lot, which is part of my problem now, I suppose.  I read a little more of my aunt’s diary sitting out in the yard with Big Sam at my feet, breathing in the scent of burgeoning earth and fresh, clean country air.  Enjoying the splendor of delicate spring flowers sprouting up in little patches around the bare yard and well-fed, red-breasted robins searching tirelessly for worms in the damp soil. 

And I made Doc very happy indeed when I managed to eat some of Isom’s biscuits and gravy for breakfast and then chicken and dumplings for lunch.  A patient getting plenty of rest and food are two things that please Doc enormously.  I managed to come to the table to eat, too.  I enjoyed listening to Doc and Isom banter like old friends, and, best of all, Isom told me wonderful stories about my aunt and uncle when they lived here together on the ranch. 

I think Solomon and Océane must have been very much in love, and my heart aches with missing them, in spite of the fact that I never even knew them.  But it is a very great relief to think that my aunt found such contentment with Solomon after so many years of living in an unhappy home, physically abused and mentally tormented, and then forced to prostitute herself in order to live on her own.  It removes some of the heavy burden on my heart, although Matt continues to reassure me I should not feel responsible for my mother’s and aunt’s unhappiness.  But I think it is only human nature to look back and second-guess ourselves.  How could I have been so blind?  What could I have done to help?  I will always wonder what I could have done differently.

But now I’m tossing and turning in the rumpled bedclothes.  And listening expectantly.  Listening for Matt to return from speaking to Irving Hepley about coming out here and meeting about the will and my uncle’s ranch and what I’m going to do with it all. 

And then I wonder if Matt’s been missing me, too.  Probably not.  Men aren’t so sentimental as women.  He hasn’t given me a second thought, I’m sure.  He’s probably relieved to get away for a while, truth be told.  I sigh resignedly and listen as a noisy mockingbird pierces the quiet with its insistent melody. 

I always find it strange to hear such exuberance in the dead of night, when everything is supposed to be fast asleep.  But the mockingbird sings his song, quite enthusiastically, for anyone who will listen.  I wonder if he’s singing to his mate.  Do mockingbirds mate for life?  No, I think that it’s swans who remain forever devoted to one another.  I read that in a magazine once, and the fact struck me as lovely and hopelessly romantic. 

Suddenly, I hear the doorknob turning.  The hinges give their tiny creak as my bedroom door opens just a crack and the brim of a cowboy hat pokes through.  “Matt!” I whisper across the room as loudly as I dare.  I don’t want to waken Doc.    

The moonlight is so bright, I can see his animated expression as he smiles his infectious smile with those perfect, straight, white teeth.  He looks over his shoulder, then slips through the door, closing it noiselessly behind him.

I sit up and greet him with pure delight I can’t hide.  “I didn’t hear you ride up!”

Matt’s deep voice rumbles even as he whispers, “What are you still doing awake?”  But he appears to be very pleased that I am.  He stands with his back against the door and removes his hat, holding it over his heart. 

“I couldn’t sleep.”  I just look at him standing there in the moonlight, and the sight of him takes my breath away.  He’s so beautiful.  Maybe you aren’t supposed to describe a man as beautiful, but I think he is.  He reminds me of those lovely Greek statues I’ve seen in books, just complete perfection of form.  I love to look at him.  But tonight he’s got that vest on I wish he wouldn’t wear so much.  It hides his flawless wide shoulders that taper down to a narrow waist and then on to a backside that is so round and firm that I have to fight sometimes to keep my hands off it, and it makes me blush as I think about it.  I am glad the light is dim in here and he can’t tell what I’m thinking about.  What would he think of me?

His next words are so quiet I nearly don’t hear them.  “I missed you today.”  My heart gives a little leap and I can’t believe he’s been missing me, too. 

I throw the covers off my legs and scoot over to sit on the other side of the bed, closer to him.  “You did?”  His admission has made me giddy.  I feel like a sixteen-year-old with her first beau.  Not at all like a full grown woman with a shady past.  But I feel like Matt Dillon has changed me.  He’s made me new again.  That’s how I feel anyway.

Matt walks closer and hangs his hat on the bedpost.  He looks down at me and my heart skips a beat.  From this close I can look into his beautiful eyes, usually clear blue, but shining and pale here in the moonbeams reflecting into my bedroom.  His eyelashes are so lush and long, fringing his lovely eyes, and his gaze is so earnest and loving right now, it makes my chest hurt.  He murmurs, “I’ve gotten used to having you around all the time, Kitty.”

I take a deep breath and reach for his hand just a little bit shyly.  “Me too, Cowboy.  I didn’t like it today with you gone.”

With my confession, he leans over me eagerly and captures my lips, ardently kissing me over and over until I can’t breathe, his big hands clutching my shoulders like he is afraid I will escape and run away.  I reluctantly withdraw from his hungry kiss and work my fingers through his enviable mass of dark curls.  “Doc is right in the next room, Matt,” I remind him breathlessly.

Giving a resigned sigh, my sweet cowboy kneels on the floor in front of me.  He places his hands on my thighs and I can feel his heat through my nightgown.  He just gazes quietly at me for a while and then reaches for my braid.  Untying the ribbon that holds it, he threads his fingers through until my hair is loose and flowing over my shoulder.  Scooping up a handful, he strokes the silky tresses over his cheek and lips, then kisses my mouth very softly.

I think, this is what it feels like to have somebody love you, to cherish you.  I don’t believe I’ve ever been cherished by a man in all my born days.  I look into his beautiful eyes and I can see clear down into his heart.  I know that Matt Dillon cherishes me.  Just his eyes tell me that.

I give a shuddering sigh at his touch, and he is looking down at my bare knees where my nightgown had shimmied its way up my legs when I slid across the bed to be closer to him.  He leans over and kisses the soft skin on the inside of my knee, and I shiver in response.  “You smell so good, Kitten,” I hear him whisper hoarsely.  He pushes my nightgown up just a tiny bit higher and he kisses my inner thigh, his tongue darting out wetly.  I gasp as he advances, but I don’t stop him.  I am aching for his touch, like a parched traveler making his way across the desert.  If I don’t feel Matt’s hands on me, I think I will die.

He pushes the filmy material above my waist and slowly leans over and places his lips on the curls of my mound, inhaling deeply, kissing softly.  My breath comes quickly now.  He wraps his hands around my bottom and pulls me forward, to the edge of the bed, and spreads my legs carefully apart.  His sweet, breathtakingly handsome face turns up towards mine and he asks quietly, “Can I kiss you here, Kitty?”

I can barely breathe at this point.  I’ve never let anyone touch me like this.  It sounds funny, I know, me being a working girl like I am, but there are things I won’t do for money with all those awful men who pay me for my services.  And this is one of them.  No one ever touches me like this.  No one ever kisses me here.  Some things are sacred.

But now I’m trembling so and I can feel my bared female flesh throbbing with desire for Matt’s attentions.  I think I want him more than I’ve wanted anything in my entire life.  “Yes…” I whisper and my voice sounds tremulous even to my own ears.  Warmly, lovingly, he kisses me on the lips again, his fingers trailing over my unbound hair, and then his dark head eagerly dips low over my center. 

I gasp aloud as his mouth touches my most intimate flesh and I feel him kissing me over and over, tenderly and reverently.  My eyes widen at the sensation of his soft lips sliding over my aching center, his tongue working its magic on my secret places where no man has been allowed to touch before.  My face flushes scarlet that Matt is seeing me like this, but I don’t care, I don’t, because it feels so, so good.  I’ve never felt anything like this before. 

My breath quickens as he pleasures me, and I can feel his full, sensitive lips humming devotedly against my already dripping folds.  Blood rushes between my legs, and I feel heavy and enflamed.  As I begin to shake, Matt attentively lays me back on the tangled sheets.  Then I can’t believe I’m letting his do this to me, but he spreads me wider so that he can reach every inch of my thrumming sex, every nerve ending, every sweet spot.  I can hide nothing from him. 

I can feel exquisite tension climbing and building inside of me, and Matt places one hand on my mouth gently to quiet my passionate cries.  I can’t help it.  I feel out of control.  I’ve never been so exposed, so vulnerable before.  I am giving myself to this gentle, loving man, utterly and completely. 

I tremble harder and harder, until I can’t hold back any longer.  I think Matt can feel it too, and he clamps his large hand over my mouth as I cry out in complete abandon, my back arching as inner muscles I didn’t know I had contract divinely within me.  My vision blurring, the full moon seems to swell and explode before my eyes.  I feel wetness gushing between my legs and I lay weakly, trembling like a leaf, breathing hard, and I can barely hear him whispering, “My sweet, sweet girl…” as he ardently laps at me with his tongue. 

Tears leak out of the corner of my eyes, dropping heavily onto the mattress below.  My core continues to thrum and shake and pulsate and I can’t move, not for the life of me.  Matt finally kisses his way up my quivering legs and belly.  He kisses my flushed cheek and kisses my burning eyes and asks quietly, “What’s the matter, honey?  Why are you crying?”

My voice comes out softer than a whisper, “I love you so much, Matthew Dillon.  That’s why.”

Affectionately nuzzling my sweat-sheened neck, he strokes his hand low on my belly and lets it rest there, and I know he can feel my body still trembling and my muscles still contracting in response to his passionate kisses between my legs. 

Matt murmurs in my ear, his warm breath gently stirring my hair, “I love you, too, sweetheart.  I love you, too.”

tbc

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Set Fire to the Rain 2, Ch. 17 "Rainy Day"

This fanfiction is intended for mature readers due to the vivid depiction of a consensual adult relationship.  The setting is First Season, post-The Preacher.  Please consult a hair care professional before attempting any hair care methods described in this chapter.

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Sometimes I lie awake at night fretting.  Whatever would become of me if something were to happen to my dear Solomon?  I am ever fearful of having to go back to that unspeakable life I once was forced to lead.  For years now, I have been saving a little bit of money aside, for a rainy day, one might say.  A woman must be prepared for the very worst she can imagine.  Because sometimes the unimaginable comes to pass…

Kitty’s scalp tingled warmly with each relaxing stroke of soft bristles over her rapidly drying hair.  “How much do you think I would need to pay for the repairs, Matt?” she murmured sleepily, lulled by his soothing, rhythmic strokes.  She turned her head to glance over her shoulder at him through hooded eyes, his face intent on his work.

“Keep still,” he admonished gently, relishing the sensation of her cool, silky hair slipping damply within his palms.  “I don’t know, Kitty.”  He blew out a thoughtful breath.  “I’m no rancher.  We’ll have to consult with Hepley, maybe even the bank, to get a better idea.  You might make out better if you just sell it outright, without repairing the flood damage.”

“Honestly, I don’t think I have anywhere near enough cash to repair barns and fences.”  She peeped around at him again and drowsily rubbed her heavy eyelids.  “You may be right about going ahead and selling it as is.”

“There you go again.  Turn back around…”  He silently marveled at how beautifully her fiery hair shone in the bright sunlight, combing his bare fingers through the thick, sleek tresses, the ends curling softly as they dried. 

“When do you think we can talk to Mr. Hepley again, Matt?  I’m feeling much better, really I am.”

“Oh no, you’re not going anywhere yet.”  Matt scratched his cheek thoughtfully.  “Besides, Doc would have a conniption fit.” 

“But, Matt, it’s been such a long time.  I need to see about selling this place.”

“I tell you what…”  He tenderly tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear.  “Now that you’re feeling a little better, I’d like to ride into town and have me a talk with Virgil Ware.”

“What for?”

“I wanna know what caused that hotel fire.”

“What do you mean?”  Kitty turned her whole body sideways in the chair to get a good look at him.

“I mean, it looked suspicious, Kitty.  The fire was isolated to your room only.  Virgil said he smelled kerosene fumes.”

“What?”  Kitty’s eyes widened.

“That’s why I want to talk with the sheriff.  And while I’m in town, I’ll ask Hepley to come out here for a meeting.  That way you can rest and not have to travel.  I don’t want you getting sick again, young lady.”  Matt punctuated his statement by shoving his hat further back on his head and placing his hands determinedly on his hips.  “I mean it.” 

“Oh, all right…” she answered in a sweetly conciliatory tone, gazing up at him out of the corner of her eyes.

Matt’s voice raised a notch.  “You mean you’re not gonna argue with me?”

Taking his hand, she gave him the tiniest smile.  “No.  You know what’s best.”

“Kathleen Russell, do you have a fever again?”  A thick eyebrow rose over Marshal Dillon’s forehead.

She gave a throaty laugh accompanied by a small residual cough…  “No!”

“Well, I’m going to carry these things back in the house.  I want to have everything cleaned up and you safely in bed before Doc gets back.”

“Well, take those things first.”   She gave his hand a tender squeeze.  “Let me sit out here just for a few more minutes.  It’s so nice.  My hair can finish drying, too.”

Matt took a luxurious handful of her hair in his hand, holding it to his nose and inhaling deeply, the silken strands softly tickling his lips.  He sighed, “Okay.  I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Clutching his arm, Kitty tugged him down until his face hovered over hers.  Before he could react, she kissed him, soft and wet and deep…but fleetingly.  She placed her hands on his cheeks and gazed into his eyes intently and said, “Thank you, Matt…”  Then she reluctantly released him. 

He gave her a dazed grin and tipped his hat, “You’re most welcome, little lady.”  And he loped off toward the back door, towels thrown over his shoulder, her brush and comb stuck in his back pockets, splashing water from the overfull washbasin as he went.  He finally leaned over and dumped the water beneath a thorny rose bush before ducking his head into the house. 

Kitty smiled to herself and sat looking out at the barns on the property behind her.  It made her sad to think of selling this place that her family had lived on for so long, but what on earth would she do with a ranch?  The best thing to do was to sell it and use the money to invest in the Long Branch with Bill Pence.  Kitty was a city girl, after all.  Glancing over at the bushes, she could have sworn she saw something moving there.  Probably a prairie dog or possum or even a wild turkey for all she knew.  This place was crawling with varmints.

Idly, she wondered what her aunt had finally done with her “rainy day” money.  Kitty’s rainy day had come in spades, all right, and wiped out part of her inheritance.  But at least it wasn’t anything resembling a total loss.  She should still be able to raise a large portion of the payment to Bill in the end. 

Kitty closed her eyes and tried to imagine what it would be like to own her own business, to be her own boss.  It thrilled her to think that her dream was actually within reach, that she would never again have to live that life that both she and her aunt Océane despised.  Would never have to lay a hand on another man as long as she lived if she didn’t want to…Matt Dillon excluded, of course.  Kitty started when she heard a strange sound rapidly approaching.  Her eyes flew open and she cried out when something brushed against her.

A delighted laugh burst from her throat when she stared down into liquid brown eyes gazing lovingly up at her, a big yellow, furry head nestled firmly in her lap.

“You must be Big Sam!” Kitty exclaimed, giving the large yellow dog’s ears an enthusiastic and thorough scratching.  Big Sam happily hassled and smiled up at her adoringly.    “Oh, you are such a sweet dog, yes you are!”  She petted and cooed to Big Sam, who sat very still, gazing at Kitty and listening intently to every word she uttered.

“Hello there!”  Traipsing across the yard were Doc and Isom, returning from their apparently successful fishing excursion.  Doc proudly carried a big mess of fish and Isom toted the poles over one shoulder and their gear in the other hand.

“Hello, Doc!  Hello, Isom!  Look who I just met...” 

Isom beamed, “I can see he has taken a shine to you, Miss.”

“Oh, I’ve taken a shine to him, alright.  He is such a good boy.”

Doc squinted at her and remarked fondly, “You look purty as a picture, young lady, sitting out in the midst of the beauty of nature, freshly scrubbed and pink-cheeked from the sun…”

Kitty’s mouth dropped open in surprise, “Why, thank you, D—“

His tone quickly turned reproving, “…but what on earth are you still doin’ out here?  Matt should have you back in bed underneath the covers and resting by now…  Why, I oughta…”

“You’ll do no such thing, Doc…”  Her eyes twinkled and the corners of her mouth turned up.  “Matt has been taking wonderful care of me, and you know it.  Don’t you fuss at him, not one little bit.”   Kitty reached for his free arm and stood a bit unsteadily, leaning on her friend. 

“Oh…all right.”  Doc gave her a placating pat on the hand.  “But only cause you asked me…” 

Doc wrapped his arm firmly around Kitty’s waist, handing off the string of fish to his companion.  “Would you mind, Isom?”

“Not at all, Doc, not at all.  You go ahead and escort the young lady back inside before she catches her death.”  Isom gave a sly wink at Kitty behind Doc’s back and Kitty grinned at him in return.  She and Doc unhurriedly strolled back to the house, arm in arm.

Isom headed happily toward the water pump, ready to clean their string of beauties for supper.

And shrouded in the shade-dappled treeline, a shadowy figure mounted his horse, trotting away before anyone could spot him and become suspicious, revealing his hand before he could make his next move.

tbc

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Set Fire to the Rain 2, Ch. 16 "Soft Spot"

This fanfiction is intended for mature readers due to the vivid depiction of a consensual adult relationship.  The setting is First Season, post-The Preacher.  Do not attempt the hair care procedures described in this chapter without first consulting a licensed hair care professional.

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My man is so good to me.  I have to convince myself with a daily pinch that my new life is not all some dream and that I’ll wake up in a whorehouse back in Vermilionville, Louisiana, someday.  Solomon works hard all day long, for we are saving to buy some land of our own, but when he comes home at night, he does not put his feet up and yell and complain the way the other wives have related to me that their husbands act.  My husband treats me like a lady.  He speaks kindly to me.  But we never talk about the past.  That is my one rule.  I wish to leave the past far behind me. 

I no longer have to earn my living in my bed.   I take care of our little house instead.  It is hard work, but I do not mind it in the least.  Nothing is hard work after you’ve had to make money by letting a strange, sweaty man climb on top of you.  You come to appreciate mundane chores like baking biscuits and washing dishes.  Those tasks are cleansing to the soul.  They smell good.  Not so much, those dirty cowboys.  Solomon also talks to me sweetly when we are abed.  That is the best time of all—the nights when we lie in each other’s arms.  I don’t know why he loves me so, but he does.  Solomon tells me so a hundred times a day, so I know it is true.

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Matt’s long, dripping fingers wove through Kitty’s abundant, wet hair, caressing and massaging her scalp until her senses practically hummed.  In fact, she suddenly realized she might actually be humming aloud without being aware of it.

“Feel good?” 

Matt’s deep, thrumming voice always tickled her belly and sometimes made her shiver with delight.  She squinted one eye up at him against the bright light of the sun high overhead.  “Mmm-hmmm…”

The aroma of rosewater tonic and rich vanilla permeated the air around them.  She breathed in the luscious scent appreciatively as Matt offered, “Isom said this was Mrs. Pierce’s favorite.”

“It smells lovely.”  She let her eyes drift closed again and contentedly drank in all the smells and sounds around her on this fine spring day—sweet hay from the barn, mockingbirds in the trees, and damp fertile earth beneath their feet.  But the best sensation of all was the feel of Matt’s fingers lacing through her hair and over her sensitive skin.  It gave her delicious goosebumps.

“He says you look just like her, Kitty.  The ‘spittin’ image’ is what he said.”  Matt pushed his hat back on his head with a damp knuckle and quietly regarded her, sitting in a wooden kitchen chair he’d dragged out back of the house for her after first sending Doc and Isom both packing this time.  He’d told them to take their good sweet time and catch plenty of fish, too.  Doc had given him a highly suspicious look and warned Matt he’d have his hide if he let Kitty get cold and wet.  The only reason he was allowing Matt to do this in the first place was it was unseasonably warm today, not a cloud in the dadblamed sky.  So Matt was to be quick about the whole process, or else Kitty could have a complete relapse and it would be all Matt’s fault. 

Matt knew better than to cross Doc, so he was taking every precaution.  The wash tub full of water sitting on a small table behind her was plenty warm, heated on the stove and smelling pretty thanks to Isom, and he’d swathed Kitty in insulating towels after she’d shimmied her gown down off her shoulders so it wouldn’t get wet. 

Sighing as he cupped his hands and filled them with water, letting it trickle through his fingers onto her scalp, Matt almost wished he hadn’t discovered that journal because of the hurt it had caused Kitty.  When he looked now at her beautiful pale face, eyes closed, head lying back so trustingly in his own hands, the thought of the aunt who’d looked so much like her and the abuse that she’d suffered made his chest tighten painfully.  The idea of someone hurting Kitty made his blood boil, and that inevitably drew his thoughts back to her unfortunate occupation.  Matt would do everything in his power to make sure she never had to make her living that way again.  The Pierce Ranch could be what helped Kitty finally make her escape, just like Océane had made her escape with Solomon so many years before.

Matt threaded his fingers through the velvety soft, titian tresses floating weightless in the scented wash water, meticulously working the tangles out, and quietly contemplated his relationship with Kitty.  He’d never felt this protective of someone before.  Kitty was so different from the other women he’d known.  She was smart and brave and tough and could take care of herself for the most part, but, funny thing was, he didn’t want her to have to.  He wanted to help take care of her. 

He’d discovered a soft spot inside for this worldly, red-headed saloon girl with the face of an angel and a body that could make a man break into a sweat just looking at her…and he didn’t quite know what to do about it.  As a U.S. Marshal, he sure didn’t make enough money to support a family, and he would be desperately afraid for anyone who became close to him.  It’d been his experience that those closest to him invariably became targets of the lousy cheats, thieves, and murderers he battled, day in and day out.  It wouldn’t be fair to Kitty, to subject her to that kind of trash and the inevitable trouble they’d bring.  He could never do that to her. 

Matt gave another sigh as he slicked his hand over Kitty’s wet hair, warm with the sun’s heat.  She chose that moment to look up at him with those big sapphire eyes that made his stomach do funny things, and he could see her breath quickening under his gaze.  Her plump, pink lips were parted just a tiny bit, and Matt found himself irresistibly drawn to them.  She slipped her cool hand around the back of his neck where his skin was tanned brown with the harsh prairie sun, as he leaned over her and touched his mouth to hers, tasting her lips, breathing her breath, inhaling her sweet scent.  Gently, tentatively, their lips slid together as Matt and Kitty reacquainted themselves after far too many days of forced separation.  Kitty made a small, needy sound in her throat that Matt felt in his groin, and she slipped her slick, hot tongue into his mouth.  Her ardent explorations made him hum with pleasure as he clasped her face between his strong hands, her hair spilling from the wash basin, heedlessly streaming rose-scented water onto the ground below. 

Their kiss became more heated and urgent.  Matt hissed when Kitty’s warm palm slid over the front of his pants where she could not mistake the undeniable evidence of his desire.  A small moan escaped her lips at her discovery, and she nipped invitingly at his bottom lip with her teeth.  Then Matt felt Kitty’s fingers at the waistband of his pants, struggling with his buttons.  A disappointed growl was wrenched from his throat and he broke their searing kiss, breathlessly declaring, “Oh…Kitty…we’ve got to stop…” 

Her blue eyes flew open in surprise as she looked up at him, out of breath, face flushed, lips swollen from his passionate kisses.  He still held her face in his big, calloused hands, and he stroked her cheek, soothing her.  “We can’t do this here.”  He stood up straight and glanced around them, relieved to see no sign of Doc or Isom, then shook his head ruefully.  “What am I saying?  You’re sick, honey.  We shouldn’t be doing this at all!  I’m sorry…I got carried away again.”

Kitty gave him a lazy, sated half-smile and remorsefully agreed, “You’re right, Matt.  I’m sorry…  What would Doc say?”

Matt rolled his eyes.  “I don’t even wanna think about it, Kitty.  He’d skin me.”  Placing his hands on his hips, he quietly regarded her as he tried to get his heart rate back under control, her normally bright, fiery hair dark and drenched, tumbling down her back.  He gave a sigh.  “Okay, let’s get you rinsed.  I have some clean water heating on the stove.”  He grasped her hand and kissed her fingers lightly, a slightly chagrined look on his handsome face.  “I’ll be right back.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Cowboy…”

“You better not.”  Matt strode toward the back door of the house with a quick backward glance while Kitty sat quietly, hands folded in her lap.  She leaned her head back, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her face, completely disregarding any worries of future freckles while tantalizing thoughts of Matt Dillon warmed her insides. 

But from the cover of the bushes, cold gray eyes watched silently, waiting...

tbc

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Set Fire to the Rain 2, Ch. 15 "Drawn to the Present"

This fanfiction is intended for mature readers due to sexual situations and violence.

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“I couldn’t put enough distance between me and my New Orleans home.  It had been a miserable place for both me and my sister Amélie.”  Kitty was nearly breathless after reading the dark truths contained within her aunt Océane’s journal; her thoughts were spinning at all she had been forced to absorb in such a short period of time.  She laid her head limply back against the chaise lounge and stared out the window at the sunset, shivering at the chilly breeze fluttering the lace curtains.  As she contemplated the early circumstances of the two sisters, her heart grew bitter at the sad choices left to so many women just like them, living in this man’s world.  She could unhappily count herself, her aunt, and her own mother among the victims, according to Océane’s account within the pages of the slim volume she now held in her hands. 

Kitty coughed wretchedly until a tear rolled down her cheek.  She was so tired.  It’d been a long day, her first out of bed, if you could count three feet across the room, lying on a chaise as out of bed.  And now she’d been confronted with this overwhelming news.  Funny thing…it’d actually happened in the distant past, the participants probably all long dead by now, but it was fresh to her, and the hurt in her heart was fresh, too.  Her poor mother...

The bedroom door creaked a bit as it opened, and the soft, yellow glow of lamplight spilled into the room.  “Kitty, you awake?”  Matt’s footsteps stole lightly across the polished wooden floor.  “Surely you aren’t readin’ in the dark?”

She swallowed hard to keep more tears from escaping and cleared her throat so that her voice would not betray her.  “No…”  Hastily swiping at the tear stain on her cheek, she answered, “I think I’m finished reading for tonight though.”  The small laugh that came out of her mouth sounded forced even to her own ears. 

Matt set the lamp on her bedside table and perched gingerly next to her.  He kept his voice low in the shadowy room.  “What’s the matter, Kitty?  You sound upset.”

“Oh, Matt…” Kitty bit her bottom lip and tried to steady her voice.  “I’ve just…  I’m just a little shaken up by what I’ve read.”  She couldn’t look at him or she knew she’d crumple and burst into tears under his sympathetic gaze. 

He somehow sensed this and didn’t touch her, just sat quietly and waited for her to continue.

“My entire life with her, my mother seemed perpetually melancholy.  I had always thought it was because my father had left us.”  She tucked her hair behind an ear and continued, not daring to look at him still.  “But maybe there was something more to it…” 

Matt sat, not uttering a word, allowing her time to unburden her heart.

She took a deep, steadying breath, almost whispering the words, “Matt, there were bad things going on in her life, from the time she was very young…  To both of them, Océane and my mother…”

“Bad things?”

“Things that shouldn’t happen to a little girl.”  Her voice was flat and emotionless, but the expression on her face, as she stared out into the dim room, was anything but.

Matt’s stomach churned at her implied meaning.  “Who was it, Kitty?  Who did those…things to them?”

“I never knew him.  I didn’t know it until just now, but my grandfather, Sennett Arcenaux, was married before he met my grandmother.  He had a son, Lucien.”  Kitty worried the cuticle of her thumbnail until it bled.  “When his first wife died, he married my grandmother Bernadette and the son came to live with them.”

Matt continued softly, “And then your grandparents had two more children…”

“My mother Amélie was the oldest.  Océane came along three years later.”

“Then it was their brother…” Matt stated, his voice hard.

“Lucien…he hurt them, Matt.  He hurt my mother and her little sister.”  Kitty commenced to bitterly describe to Matt what she had learned within the pages of Océane’s diary.  Dark secrets of a family in denial.  Unspeakable happenings behind closed doors where a good family supposedly lived.  Tormented little girls, sexually abused by their older half-brother until they were young ladies of society and could stand it no more.

 Amélie, the oldest, chose to marry the first charming man who came along when she was of marriageable age, in spite of her parents’ objections that Wayne Russell was a scallawag and a scoundrel.  Océane, fearing Lucien’s isolated attentions, chose to run away where no one would ever find her.  And so she had made her way West in this world, making a living the only way she knew how, in one of the few occupations available to women. 

Sitting in the dimly lit bedroom where Océane may very well have spent her last hours, Kitty revealed to Matt her family’s secrets in a hushed voice, tears streaming slowly but silently down her face.  She cried for her mother’s and aunt’s private pain.  She cried because she could never tell them how sorry she was.  She cried because she would never see her mother again, her grief at Amélie’s passing renewed even after all these long years without her.   

Why hadn’t she known?  She could have helped her mother.  She could have.  Kitty hadn’t even realized she’d spoken these last thoughts aloud until Matt wrapped his long, comforting arms around her at last and stroked her hair and her shuddering back as she sobbed quietly against his chest.  

“Shhh….” he murmured against the top of her head.  “Shh…Kitty, it’s not your fault, honey.  It had nothing to do with you.  It was all over and done with before you were even born.”

“But…” she looked up at him with liquid blue eyes, face flushed and tear-swolllen.

He held a finger gently to her lips.  “But nothing, Kitty…  You were so young when your mother died.  There was nothing you could have done to help her.  You were just a kid, honey.  Don’t beat yourself up over this.  None of it is your fault.”

She laid her head against his sturdy chest, thankful for his presence, grateful for his understanding. 

Matt slipped an arm under her knees and swept her up, depositing her gently on the bed.  He pulled the covers over her legs and sat down beside her, tugging a hankie out of his pocket.  He wrinkled his nose.  “Sorry, this one smells like Doc’s fish.  Wait a minute…” 

Kitty couldn’t help but smile through her tears as he dug in his other pockets one by one until he located a clean handkerchief.  He shook it out and wiped her face dry, afterwards instructing, “Blow.”

While Matt fussed over her, she once again wondered what she had ever done to deserve him, after the sordid lifestyle she had led.  She was overcome with gratitude that she had found her Solomon Pierce right here in Matt Dillon. 

“Kitty, you need to eat to keep your strength up.  You want to come eat with Doc and me in the kitchen?”

“Oh, Matt, I’m a mess.  I don’t feel very sociable right now, to tell you the truth.”

“How ‘bout I bring your supper in here?”

She answered quietly, “That would be nice, Matt.  I’d appreciate it.”

Matt took her face in his hands, rubbing his thumbs under her eyes to dry the remainder of her tears, then touched his lips to her forehead for a long moment.  “I’ll be back in a jiffy,” he murmured softly, closing the door quietly behind him. 

Kitty lay on her side, hot tears trickling anew onto her pillow as her fingertips absently stroked the silky fabric of Océane’s nightgown.  She looked across at the leather journal still lying on the chaise lounge and wondered what other secrets might lay buried inside.

tbc

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Set Fire to the Rain 2, Ch. 14 "Voices from the Past"

This fanfiction is intended for mature readers due to the vivid depiction of a consensual adult relationship.  The setting is First Season, post-The Preacher.  I am not a psychologist or an expert in family dynamics, therefore the information contained within may indeed be completely unreliable or entirely dangerous.

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Today I met the man I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.  He’s got the kindest, gentlest blue eyes I’ve ever seen and a tender heart to match.  He doesn’t care how I’ve had to make my living in the past--- what I’ve been forced to do to keep food in my mouth or clothes on my back.  He says he doesn’t care one whit that I’m what some men call a ‘soiled dove’ with a hateful sneer on their faces.  He says he understands.  He says it’s what’s inside a person that counts, and he thinks I’m the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen in all his born days, inside or out.  I think I need to hold on tight and never let this wonderful man go…

Kitty read the faded ink in her aunt Océane’s journal and suddenly glanced up at the man who was turning back the covers on her freshly made bed, busily fluffing her pillows.  Her mind whirled as she read the poignant, heartfelt words her mother’s sister had penned so many years before, still fresh, still meaningful to the niece she’d never even met.  Her heart swelled with love for this man who was doing his darndest to wrench her away from the same soul-eating business that’d had her aunt Océane in its clutches so many years before. 

“What’s the matter, Kitty?”

“Nothing…”  She hadn’t realized she’d been staring at Matt, a queer look on her face.  “It’s just…”

He finished plumping her pillows and came to stand beside her.  “What, honey?”

“I just love you so much, Matt.”  Her eyes burned with the sudden tears that threatened to spill over her lashes.  She reached for his hand as he blushed at her romantic sentiments expressed so openly in the bright light of day.  But when she gazed up and offered him her upturned lips, he eagerly leaned over for a kiss.  She saw him take a shallow, hesitant breath as his full, lush lips parted slightly…

A rap on the door caused them both to jump.

“Oh…” they said simultaneously, looking at each other in disappointment.

Matt sighed heavily and grudgingly released her hand, striding to unlock the door and open it.  “Come in, Doc.”

Doc’s hat was pushed back on his head and he wore a wide, cocky grin.  “Wellll,” he drawled.  “What have you two youngsters been up to?”

He perched on the edge of Kitty’s chaise and took her hand in his, his eyes busily taking in the salient changes that had taken place during his absence. 

“Look what Matt found, Doc…”  Kitty held up the leather-bound journal.  “It’s a journal written by my aunt.”

“Say!  That’s a find!  That young man of yours may turn out to be worth something after all…”  He glanced back at Matt, who looked at him sourly. 

Doc deftly held Kitty’s wrist as Matt started to protest.  “See here now, Doc…”

Doc held up a finger to signal for quiet.  After several moments he announced, “Young lady, your pulse is racing a bit…”  He looked accusingly at Matt again.  “What could’ve caused it to do that, eh?”

Matt irritably countered, “I don’t see that it’s any of your…”

Doc interrupted, “Oh, what put you in such a bad mood this afternoon?”  Doc gave Kitty a sly wink but then proposed soberly, “Maybe you’ll get to know your aunt a little by reading this, since you didn’t have that opportunity during her lifetime.” 

Kitty cast her eyes down at the worn book in her hands.

Doc swiped at his mustache and quickly offered, “I know this has been rather hard on you, Kitty.  Finding out you had family only after they were gone.”

She silently squeezed his hand.

He continued, “But maybe it’s all a blessing in disguise.  I think a lot of good could come from all of this…”  He looked up at Matt and reiterated, “Yep, I surely do…  A lotta good…”

Doc patted her hand one last time and rose, “Well, I’ve got some fish to clean.  While you two were fritterin’ away your time doin’…”  He waved his hands a bit.  “…whatever you were doin’, I was catchin’ us some supper!”

Matt grumbled, “It’s about time you started earnin’ your keep around here, you old codger.”

Doc fussed back, “You’re one to talk!” as he walked out the door hollering, “Isom!”

Matt shook his head and started to pick Kitty up to place her back in bed, but she stopped him with a hand.  “I want to stay here a while and read, Matt.  I’m so tired of lying in bed.”

“Okay, Kitty.  Guess I’ll go help clean those fish and get supper ready.  You think you could manage to eat some fried fish tonight?”

She smiled.  “I think so.  I’m not hungry, but maybe I will be by the time we eat.”

“You’ve gotta start eating more, Kitty.  So you can get well.”  He gave her a lopsided grin and scratched his ear.  “You told me you wished you were feeling better, remember?”

“Oh, I remember, Cowboy,” she sighed.  “Don’t worry, I won’t forget.  And I promise I’ll eat.  Just for you.”  Her lifted brow made him grin as he left her to read in peace.

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“Got another letter from Amélie today.”  Kitty’s heart stopped as she read that sentence.  “She and baby Kathleen are doing fine…”  Kitty never even knew she had an aunt.  And she certainly hadn’t known her mother had kept in contact with her sister over the years.  Why had her mother never mentioned her own sister to Kitty?  She continued reading, “…although Amélie says she fears each morning when she wakes, her husband will be gone never to return.  That is no way for a woman to live.”  Kitty’s head reeled and her heart ached, for she knew the unfortunate conclusion to this particular story.  Her father, Wayne Russell, would indeed desert Kitty and her mother, never to be seen again.  She herself had only been a baby, so she had never really even known him.  But, as a child, she would watch the sad, faraway look in her mother’s eyes sometimes, looking out the front window onto the busy streets of New Orleans, and she knew her mother was hoping to see her father return, even after all the years that had passed.  Amélie had never quite gotten over Wayne Russell’s leaving her. 

“My sister and I both escaped our unhappy childhood home, although by different means.  She, by marriage, and I, by running as far away as I could.  My life is so happy now.  I hate that her life is still full of discontent.”

Kitty’s hands were shaking as she read.  What kind of life could her mother and aunt have led in the Arcenaux household that would be so unhappy as to make them want to escape?  It was troubling to imagine.

tbc

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Set Fire to the Rain 2, Ch. 13 "Touch Me"

This fanfiction is intended for mature readers due to the vivid depiction of a consensual adult relationship.  The setting is First Season, post-The Preacher.  Do NOT attempt the patient care described in this chapter without first consulting a practical nurse in proper sponge bath techniques and best practices.

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Kitty lay on her side, half asleep, the afternoon sun slanting across her bed, warming her to the core.  She heard her bedroom door open and then snick shut again.  Matt rounded the foot of the bed into view, carrying a large wash pan, feathery wisps of steam rising over it, a couple of towels thrown over his shoulder.  Drowsily, she raised her brows at him curiously.

“Bath time, young lady,” he smiled, setting the basin on the bedside table. 

“Bath time?”  Her voice was sleep-hoarse.

“You heard me…”

“But…”

“But what?”  He began busily unbuttoning and rolling up his sleeves.

“Well…”  She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and sat up a little.  “Where’s Doc?” 

Matt gave her a lopsided grin.  “I sent him fishing for supper.  Down at the river.  He’ll be gone for a while.”

“Oh,” she said quietly as she pressed back against the pillows. 

“What’sa matter?  Don’t you wanna get clean?”

“Yeah, but…”  She squinted at him slightly askance. 

“But what?”  His eyes glinted a little.  “Scared of me?”

Her mouth twisted in a pout.  “No…I just…”

“Raise your arms…”

“Raise my arms?”

“Are you going to keep echoing my words or are you going to do what I ask you, young lady?”

She frowned and raised her arms, letting Matt strip her nightgown over her head.  Her cheeks turned pink, sitting before him completely naked.  She didn’t know why.  He’d seen her this way plenty of times before in the past few weeks. 

Matt did a fine job of appearing totally detached.  He cleared his throat, then dunked a washcloth in the pan of hot water and soaped it up.  He hesitated just a fraction of a second before he gently clasped her wrist and began slicking the bubbly cloth up and down her arm. 

“Mmm…”  The sound escaped her lips before she realized it.

“Feel good?”  His voice was deep and rumbling and she could feel it clear down into her stomach.

“Yes…” she breathed.  “Smells so good too.”

“’Lavender verbena’…  That’s what the package said.”

She giggled the tiniest bit so as not to aggravate her sore throat.  It was feeling much better these days, she’d have to admit, thanks to plenty of rest and excellent care from Doc and Matt and even Isom Dewey, whom Matt said had been doing all the cooking for them, as well as taking care of the ranch.

Matt finished with one arm and moved to her other, caressing her skin until it glistened in the sunlight.  He slid the newly-rinsed washcloth around behind her neck, massaging it slowly until her head dropped back languidly.  She could feel her stiff muscles relaxing under his careful ministrations. 

 

In a leisurely fashion that made Kitty’s nerves hum, Matt’s attentions began to trace their lazy way tantalizingly down her body.  Her eyes drifted closed languorously as he gently stroked over her shoulders and chest and finally settled on her soft, voluptuous breasts.  His admiring gaze drank her in appreciatively as he watched her pebbled, pink rosebuds respond to his touch, and he was unutterably pleased to see her breath quicken with his labors.  Unhurriedly, the warm cloth began swirling over her belly and sides. 

Kitty drew in a surprised breath when Matt suddenly slipped his well-muscled arms behind her to pull her bare body against his chest.  With his damp fingers, he meticulously drew her long, tousled hair off her back, all the while noticing how fiery it appeared in the afternoon sunbeams slanting over her bed.  She shivered as he washed her back, gooseflesh materializing at his delicious touch, and she unconsciously pressed her breasts closer to him.  He asked worriedly, “You cold?”

“No, not at all…”  She gave a lush sigh and murmured against his shirt, “You just don’t know what you do to me, Marshal…”

With a small conspiratorial smile overtaking his lips, he seized the opportunity to whisper in her ear, his breath tickling the small curls at her neck, “You look so beautiful, Kitty…”  Then he laid her back against the pillows again and traced a finger down her cheek, pink and glowing, admiring his handiwork.

Matt determinedly soaped his rag again, then began the enjoyable task of washing her long, luxurious legs and feet, carefully and meticulously, one at a time.  She could feel his eyes on her the entire time, regarding her smooth skin and generous curves appreciatively as he made her clean and sweet again.  He slowly rinsed her legs and hesitated only briefly after dipping his washcloth in the basin of water one final time, taking a deep, fortifying breath. 

His eyes locked onto hers as his fingers, swathed in the warm, soapy cotton, slipped tentatively between her legs.  She gasped and her sapphire eyes widened at his intimate touch, but she did not pull away or tear her gaze from his own.  Ruby lips parting, she drew her knees up, dropping them open a little to give him better access.  He muttered faintly to himself, “My sweet girl…” 

He could feel his own body mutinously responding to Kitty’s actions, to her loveliness, to her scent, to the feel of her.  His hands were shaking as he rinsed her thoroughly.  She was slightly breathless as she rose up to whisper in his ear, “I love it when you touch me, Matt.  You make my belly burn, you know that?”

“You do more than make my belly burn, honey,” he managed to say in a passion-hoarse voice, trying to ignore how tight his pants had become.  “But I’ve got to get you dressed and change your sheets before Doc gets back.  He’ll have my hide…”  He pressed a lingering kiss longingly on her forehead before reaching over to retrieve a clean, white nightdress from the bedside table, shaking it out for her to see.  It was delicate and fragile-looking, the material almost diaphanous. 

“Where did that come from?” she asked curiously, appreciatively fingering the expensive fabric.

“I think it was probably your aunt’s,” Matt explained gently as he dropped it over her head and helped her slip her arms through the sleeves.  Kitty gasped in response to the news. 

Matt hesitantly continued, “I found it in a trunk.  Along with this…”  He handed her a small, worn book bound in leather.  It looked very old.  His voice was hushed.  “I think it’s a journal.  I hope you don’t mind.  I was hoping to find something for you to wear while we washed your nightgown.  I didn’t read it, Kitty.  I just glanced quickly inside to see what it was.”

Kitty inhaled sharply and clasped the book to her chest.  Her eyes widened as she gazed at him.  “I don’t mind a bit, Matt Dillon.  Thank you…”  She hugged him tightly, noticing the discomfort in his pants for the first time.  “Oh my…”

“Aw, Kitty…”  He grinned crookedly.  “Let myself get carried away.  Shoulda’ known better…” 

“Oh, I’m sorry…”

He placed a finger over her lips.  “Shh…  Now don’t say that.  You can’t help what you do to me, woman.”  He gave her a sweet, sly grin as she laughed.  Easily scooping her up in his arms, Matt placed her gently on the chaise by the window, then began stripping the sheets off her bed. 

She relaxed against the chair wearily and closed her eyes, grasping the old journal to her heart.  Her skin still flushed and warm wherever Matt had touched her, she murmured sincerely, “I’ll be glad when I’m feeling better, Matt.”  She covered a small cough, then absently stroked the luxurious fabric of the nightgown beneath her palm.

Matt spoke with his back to her as he smoothed the clean sheet over the bed.  “Tomorrow, if it’s as warm as it is today, I’ll wash your hair for you.  How’s that sound?”

“Lovely…”  She sighed contentedly, “You’re so good to me, Matt…”  Then she opened the creaking leather of the mysterious journal and began silently reading the ink-inscribed secrets, once black but long ago faded to brown, contained within its brittle pages…

tbc

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Set Fire to the Rain 2, Ch. 12 "Convalescence"

This fanfiction is intended for mature readers due to the vivid depiction of a consensual adult relationship.  The setting is First Season, post-The Preacher.  Do NOT attempt the patient care described in this chapter without first attending medical school or at the very least taking a correspondence course in practical nursing.

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Matt carefully fluffed Kitty’s pillows behind her back and smoothed a napkin under her chin so he wouldn’t drip steaming hot chicken soup on her.

“You made this?” Kitty croaked.

One corner of his mouth turned down as he answered dryly, “I wish I could say I did.”  He dipped up a spoonful, blew on it for a few seconds, and then held it gingerly to her mouth.  “But nope.”

Grimacing a bit, she swallowed painfully.  “Doc made it??”  At the very idea, her expression turned incredulous.

“Nope.  Him neither.”

She coughed when a bite started to go down the wrong way.  “Then who?”

“Isom...   Isom Dewey.”  He carefully scraped the bottom of the spoon over the edge of the bowl to catch the drips before giving her another bite.  “Seems you’ve inherited more than a ranch.  You’ve got a faithful employee to go with it.”

“He cooked this?”

“Well, it wouldn’t taste so good if me or Doc had made it.  Apparently, Isom has cooked for your uncle for years and has been taking care of things around here since Solomon Pierce died.“  Matt wiped a drop of broth from the corner of her mouth with the napkin.  “Otherwise, who would’ve kept the chickens alive so we could have this delicious soup?”

She coughed and then cleared her throat.  “Hadn’t thought of it that way.”

Matt explained, “Pierce provided for Isom’s pay for a while in his will, but it’ll be up to you whether you keep him on or not.”

“Oh…”  Kitty’s voice was concerned.  “You mean if I sell the ranch he might be out of a job?”

“I suppose…”

“Oh no, Matt…”

“Now, Kitty, don’t you worry about that right now.”  He hurriedly spooned another bite into her mouth before she could continue.  “You just need to eat and get some more rest.  I think Doc will be bringing your medicine pretty soon, too.”

Kitty placed a gentle hand on his arm.  “I don’t think I can eat anymore, Matt.”

“But you’ve hardly eaten anything.”

“I wasn’t hungry to begin with, really.”  Her tired eyes fluttered closed for a moment.  “I just ate so Doc wouldn’t fuss at me.”

“Just take two more bites.”  He gave her a beseeching look.  “That’s what you told me, remember?”

She gave a tiny sigh.  “Yes, my words are coming back to haunt me.”  But she dutifully opened up for two last bites.  “It is very good though, Matt.  Please tell Isom Dewey I said ‘thank you very much.’” 

“I will…  Hey, haven’t you noticed anything?”  He turned his head to one side, then the other, for her to admire his shaving job. 

“Yes, I most certainly did, Marshal.  What smooth cheeks you have, granny...”

Matt’s answer was a deep rumble that gave her gooseflesh.  “All the better to kiss you with, my dear…”

She gave a small, gravelly giggle as Matt hurriedly put her napkin over the soup bowl and lay the tray on the bedside table.  He leaned toward her just as Doc walked in with a medicine bottle full of some foul-looking substance.

Matt gave a small, disappointed sigh and Kitty eyed the medicine askance as she whispered hoarsely, “Aw, Doc…”

Doc remonstrated, “Now is that any way to greet your faithful physician?”

Matt stood and grabbed the tray to whisk it away to the kitchen before Doc peeked at how much Kitty had eaten.

Looking a little chagrined, she reached her hands toward him.  Doc took them and sat in Matt’s abandoned place beside her on the bed.   She said in a small, teasing voice, “I’m sorry, Doc.  I’m always glad to see you, you know that.”

“Did you eat your dinner, young lady?”  Doc looked over his shoulder at Matt who was walking out the door with the tray toward the kitchen.  “Did she eat?” Doc called.

Matt raised his voice in response, “Yep, Doc, she did.” 

“Good girl.”  Doc patted her hand.  “You’ve got to eat to get your strength back.  That Isom is a purty darn good cook, isn’t he?”

“Yes, Doc.  And you’re a pretty darn good doctor, too.”

Doc raised his bushy eyebrows in surprise. 

Squeezing his hands, she continued, “And a good friend.”  She pulled him toward her for a quick peck on the cheek.  “Thank you for coming all the way from Dodge just to take care of me.”

Doc’s face turned pink.  “Aw, shucks, Kitty.  Just doin’ m’job.”

“I know, I know.”  She pulled one hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles.  “But you don’t fool me one bit, you old softie.”

He tried unsuccessfully to smother a smile.  “So, uh…”  Doc tugged at his ear.  “How are things goin’ between you and the marshal lately?”

Kitty’s lips twisted wryly as she acknowledged, “So, you noticed, huh?”

“Who me?” Doc’s hand went to his chest in mock surprise, then he replied pithily, “It was hard not to.”

It was Kitty’s turn to blush. 

Doc’s face turned serious.  “Young lady, you just let me know if he doesn’t treat you right, you hear me?”

“Oh, Doc, it’ll be alright.”  She smiled a bit shyly.  “Matt’s a good man.”

“I know he is, but I’m just worried about you.”  Doc patted her arm.  “Gettin’ hurt.  You’re all alone in this world, Kitty.  You don’t have anybody to look after you the way a woman should.”

“No I’m not, Doc.”

He looked at her questioningly.

“I’m not alone.  I got you.”

She noticed his eyes misting with tears at her words and she added, “And Matt.”  She grabbed his hands and held them tightly.  “I love ‘im, Doc.”

Doc nodded and looked away.  “I know you do.  Well, my offer still stands, honey.  If he doesn’t treat you right, you just let me know.  I may be old, but I still got some fight left in me.”  His eyes twinkled at her and she sat up slowly to wrap her arms around his neck and squeeze him as tightly as her frail body would allow.

tbc

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