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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