Finding Kitty, Chapter 3 "Caught"

“If I do shoot Kitty, I’ll do it with your gun, Marshal.  The first person I ever killed was a woman.  I’ll

leave her on the trail...fresh kill.”  The haunting threat of bank robber Jed Gunther echoed ceaselessly in Matt Dillon’s head as he waited in the brush, silent as a panther, near the dark, dilapidated cabin where Kitty Russell was being held captive by two vicious men.  Uneasily he sat, all night long, accompanied only by Chester’s even breathing as he slept on the ground beside him.  Gut churning, Matt tried not to think of all the things that could be happening to Kitty right now.  He crouched, barely breathing, the better to detect the faint sounds emanating from within the cabin, praying that Kitty was safe.  He’d heard nothing that would indicate a struggle, only inaudible voices, occasional clanking that sounded like the noise of pots and pans, nothing more.  Every nerve and muscle fiber in Matt’s body reverberated with tension and dread, and the words that he’d spoken in the bank repeated itself in his heart like a mantra, “Don’t take her.” 

If only he hadn’t brought Kitty to the bank with him that morning.  But on the way to speak with Botkin, he’d encountered her on the street, looking pretty as a picture in her riding habit sitting sidesaddle.  He’d hardly seen her since that fateful dinner with James Rackmil because he’d been out of town so much, first in Elkader looking into the strange case of Joe Phy and then out on the prairie with a couple of buffalo hunters.  The night of the dinner at Delmonico’s, Matt had surprised himself with what he could only describe as raging jealousy if he was completely honest with himself.  The intensity of his feelings had been startling, and it had shaken him up.  But he’d never seen Kitty show much interest in other men, even that old boyfriend of hers, Cole Yankton, who’d turned out to be a bank robber whom Matt had unfortunately been forced to shoot. 

But when Matt had witnessed, up close and personal, Kitty laughing and talking and seemingly immensely enjoying herself with that Eastern dandy Rackmil, something had switched on inside of him.  Suddenly he felt possessive and protective of Kitty Russell, his dependable, big-hearted, caring friend who sat across from him at the dinner table looking so lovely and desirable it made his chest ache.  And then later outside the Long Branch she had kissed him, big as life, even after he had acted like an ass with Rackmil, who hadn’t done anything except behave like a gentleman.  And now, after it was all said and done, he might lose her to these murderous animals, brothers Jed and Billy Gunther.  The thought left him bleak and empty...and terrified.  He’d said to Chester, "They do anything to her by g--...  I'll tear their throats out."  And he meant it.

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Matt held Kitty’s limp body in his arms, his heart racing and his blood pumping after shooting both Gunther brothers stone dead.  In cold blood is what Chester had called it.  But he’d had no choice.  To save Kitty, he had to shoot them outright.  They didn’t deserve a chance, he thought bitterly as his eyes searched her unconscious form, reassuring himself that she was alright.  He hoped she’d just fainted from lack of food or fright, or perhaps both.  He carried her inside to let her rest, make sure she was unharmed and find something to feed her.  Matt laid her on the bed carefully, pressing a hand to her cheek to try and wake her as Chester hovered anxiously over his shoulder.

“You think she’s gonna be okay, Mr. Dillon?  She shore does look peaked.”

Matt had to agree.  Her face was very pale and drawn beneath the grime and dust left by a grueling day-long trail ride with the two homicidal Gunther brothers.  On second thought, he couldn’t be sure whether it was all dirt or...  The thought of what they may have done to her stoked the angry fire already burning in his gut.  Now that the initial relief of freeing her had worn off, he was getting worried.  She still hadn’t moved.  “Kitty, wake up.”  He stroked the hair off her pallid forehead and took her limp, cold hand in his, gently patting it.  “Can you hear me?”

Chester added fretfully, “Miss Kitty, are you alright?”

She made a small sound and stirred. Then brilliant blue eyes opened a crack, looking up at them in confusion.  “Matt?” she mumbled in a small voice.  “Where are they?  Where are the Gunthers?  You’ve got to be careful...”

Had she forgotten?  The shock of seeing them killed must be playing tricks on her mind.  He hurriedly reassured her, “You’re okay now, Kitty.  You’re with me.  Just me and Chester are here.”  Matt placed a hand on her shoulder.  “They’re gone.  They can’t hurt you.”

“Gone?”  She gingerly touched a hand to the left side of her head and winced at whatever she encountered there. 

Alert now, Matt moved her hand aside and discovered dried blood.  He looked over his shoulder at Chester whose brows beetled in concern.  Matt turned back to her.  “What happened?” he muttered darkly. 

“What happened?”  she repeated.  Kitty was disoriented.  “I don’t know...” 

“Your head has been bleeding.  What did they do to you?”  He touched her chin, drawing her gaze to his own.  “Did they hurt you?’

“I...”  Kitty’s eyes narrowed as she thought.  “Oh, Matt, my head hurts so badly.  Jed...it was him.  I can’t remember what happened exactly but he’d been threatening to beat me... fetch me up is what he called it.  He got mad at me, but I don’t quite remember....”  Her eyes fluttered closed and she lay very still.

“Kitty?”  He grasped her shoulder.  “Kitty, can you hear me?” 

Chester’s eyes were wide when she wouldn’t wake.  “Oh my, Mister Dillon.  What do you think we should do?”

“Go get Doc,” Matt answered determinedly.  “Bring a wagon.  She can’t travel by horse.”  He looked into Chester’s concerned face.  “And Chester... hurry.”

tbc

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