15The Marshal and the Misunderstanding
by GSObsess
PG-13 for some language and situations
This story takes place right after Kitty's arrival in Dodge and prior to Matt Gets It.
Matt's POV
There he was again, the tall dark haired man, occupying a seat next to Kitty at a back table. Matt grimaced as he entered the Long Branch and casually sauntered to the bar.
He'd been gone to Abilene for six days, and had looked forward to coming back to Dodge and seeing the red haired beauty. To his dismay, this stranger had shown up two days before he'd left and had immediately taken a liking to the saloon hostess. He had hoped he was just passing through and would be gone when the Marshal returned. But there he sat, much in the same place as he'd been when Matt had left, and Kitty seemed much too pleased by his attentions.
Matt captured her eye as he turned to face the tables, leaning against the scarred mahogany bar. She had held his gaze for a moment, a slight smile crossing her full lips. The interaction had not gone unnoticed by the stranger, who placed his hand possessively on her shoulder, leaning in to her and whispering something in her ear. She tilted her head back and laughed, what he said must have been interesting, as she broke her gaze from Matt and settled her sparkling blue eyes on the man beside her.
Who the hell was this guy? Matt turned back to the bar, resting his forearms on its top, and signaled for another beer. When Clem placed the foamy mug in front of the lawman, Matt voiced his question.
"Names Danby Wells, cattleman from Colorado- Alamosa I believe. Been hangin' round here quite a bit lately. Why Marshal, he wanted?"
"Nah, not that I know of, just asking." Matt's grimace returned full force. A cattleman, probably here to buy from the herds due in, likely meant he'd be here a while longer.
Matt's revelry was interrupted by a nudge on his right arm. Inclining his head, he smiled when he saw Doc Adams standing expectantly beside him. "Well, I see the local law here has decided to make an appearance," the old man grumbled. "Nice of you to drop in and see if your town's still standing!"
Matt had long since become used to the older man's teasing, and wasn't going to let him get his goat. "Figured it would be, unless some sickness broke out, then the good folks of Dodge really would be in trouble."
Doc pointed his finger at the young man. "Well, I…you…aw never mind, when'd you get in?"
Matt took a long swallow of beer, and nonchalantly said, "Just rode in, stopped in for a quick beer, then heading to the office."
Doc stared at the Marshal for a moment, "That's a little strange for you, don't you think? Usually you high tail it to that blamed office and nobody sees you for two days."
At that moment, Kitty's rich laugh echoed through the saloon, causing both men to look at the couple at the far table. Doc noted that Matt's glance lasted a mite longer than necessary.
"Ahh, now I see…you came to see Kitty, didn't you?" Before the Marshal could interject his innocence the doctor continued, swiping his hand over his bristled mustache. "Found her otherwise occupied did you? Well I'll tell you, that Wells fella has been spending a good amount of time with our lovely friend. Oh, and he's got money too, been taking her out nearly every night. Nice fellow if you ask me."
Matt harrumphed and pushed himself from the bar, "Well I didn't ask. Look, some of us have work to do. I'll see ya later Doc." Matt stalked out of the bar, leaving the batwing doors banging in his wake.
Both Doc Adams and Kitty Russell watched his exit; the older man with amusement and the young newcomer to Dodge with disappointment.
Kitty's POV
When Dillon came into the saloon, she immediately felt the air around her change. She looked up and caught the eye of the big lawman, and as it always did, her heart rate quickened and warmth began to spread through her.
She felt Danby's hand on her shoulder, and tore her eyes away from Matt. Looking at Danby's expectant grin, she knew she should laugh in response, even though she had no idea what he had just said to her. She laughed and returned her attention to the handsome man staring adoringly at her.
Danby Wells had come to Dodge just over a week ago, told her had come in ahead of the other buyers and herds so he could get the cream of the crop. He told her he thought he had already found the real cream of the crop, right here in the Long Branch saloon. He had a charming way of making her feel special, like a lady.
He spent most of his days riding out to the camps and making deals with the drive bosses, effectively hand choosing the herd he planned to take back to Alamosa. His evenings were spent in her company, a situation that she didn't find too unpleasant. That was, until she saw Matt again tonight.
Anger, confusion, desire all welled up inside of her when he sauntered through those wooden doors. He had told her he was leaving town; said he would stop back in before he left. That had been six days ago. Kitty knew he didn't owe her any explanation or special favors, but she had been thrilled when Matt had told her he would stop back for a beer before he left, and she had waited. Waited and stewed, waited and fretted, waited and worried and finally gave up waiting.
She had only been in Dodge a couple of months, but had developed a strong attraction to the handsome, albeit shy, marshal. The week he had barely acknowledged her except with his eyes. She would catch him looking at her frequently, but when she would try to engage him in conversation, he would inevitably find something more pressing to take care of. The second week found him slowly coming out of his shell, stopping by the saloon and visiting. Though still quiet, he would engage her in small talk and amiable conversation. The third week she hadn't seen him at all and had discerned from Doc and Chester that the lawman had to go to Hays on "official business". It was the fourth week that had brought an interesting turn of events to their budding friendship.
Kitty flirted shamelessly with the marshal, finding his gentle awkwardness and shyness pleasing. She would be coy and flirtatious one minute and then brassy and provocative the next; perversely enjoying his struggle to keep up.
One particular evening found him walking her home from dinner, a dinner that had as always, included the company of Doc Adams and Chester. As they approached the Long Branch, Kitty had impulsively tugged Matt's arm and led him to the alley beside the worn clapboard building.
Matt's expression had been priceless, one of surprise and anticipation, mixed with worry. "Umm, Kitty, something wrong?"
She turned herself toward him and assumed the pose of innocence, with her hands clasped in front of her and her head slightly bowed. "No Matt, nothing's wrong, I was just wondering something," she spoke softly.
Matt had pushed his Stetson back on his head and hooked his thumbs in his gun belt, a stance she had come to recognize as his "get ready" stance. "Ok, what's on your mind?"
"Well, Marshal, I was just wondering what a girl had to do to get you to pay her some notice?" With that, Kitty dropped the innocence ruse, raised her head to look directly in his eyes, and cocked an eyebrow at him.
He took half a step back, and it took all of her willpower not to giggle at him. He adjusted his hat down and immediately returned his hands to their place at his belt line. His tongue darted out and licked his bottom lip as he held her gaze. "Depends on the woman I guess."
She brazenly closed the distance between them and to keep her hands from traveling to his chest, she placed them on her hips. "I wouldn't be asking would I, if it were someone else? Honestly Matt, you hardly act like I exist. It almost makes a girl feel unattractive!" Emphasizing her plight, she jutted her bottom lip out.
An ingratiating grin spread across his face, as he imperceptibly inched closer. "I'm willing to bet you've never felt unattractive in your life," he placed his hands on her crooked arms, "and I've paid plenty of notice, Miss Russell." The memory of his deep baritone whisper in the night air sent a shiver through Kitty.
She had let her hands drop from her hips and closed the small distance between them. "You sure do have a funny way of showing it Dillon."
She held her face up toward his, hoping he would lean down and kiss her. Every fiber of her being was screaming to feel those strong lips against hers. He inclined his head toward her. She closed her eyes in anticipation and then-she felt his long finger tap the tip of her nose. "There's lots of ways to show a pretty lady she's appreciated," he said softly. "How about we take a picnic this week sometime?"
The breath she had been holding escaped in a long sigh. Opening her eyes, she found herself lost in his intense stare. She laughed, laid a hand on his chest and patted the hard muscles under his shirt. "A picnic it is, Marshal, and I'm holding you to it!"
She spun on her heels and turned to leave. On impulse she looked back and found him staring at her ample assets sashaying away. "Hmm, you do take notice I see!"
She laughed as she left the stymied Marshal standing with his mouth agape.
Matt's POV
It had been harder than he had thought to find time to take Kitty on the picnic he had promised. Between his duties as Marshal and her hours at the Long Branch, it was almost two weeks after his impromptu invitation that the pair found themselves riding out to a small tributary of the Arkansas for fishing and picnicking.
Before picking her up, Matt spent the morning chastising himself for even thinking of getting involved with a woman again. After Lee, he had made up his mind, locked up his heart and decided that he and women just didn't mix. Yet here he was dousing his hair and putting on his best shirt for a woman. He rationalized it was just a picnic, not an engagement, and he did enjoy the auburn beauty's company, and he was hungry. With all his excuses in place, Matt left to retrieve the buggy from the stable.
He hadn't been prepared for the site that greeted him in front of the Long Branch; Kitty Russell, hair down, wearing a soft white cotton shirt and jeans, holding a fishing pole and a bait bucket. He had expected her to be dressed to the nines, all dolled up for a date, and there she stood, simple and unadorned and more desirable than he cared to admit.
She had eyed his attire and with a smirk had asked "Am I under dressed or are you over dressed for fishing?" His cheeks reddened and he had told her she looked just fine. They had ridden out of Dodge giggling and talking, and he knew then he was in for an unusual day.
Matt felt more nervous with Kitty than any other woman he had known. Something about the lady set every one of his senses reeling. He found her mix of innocence and sultriness a heady combination. But the way she spoke to him, unabashedly, smart and to the point, was very disarming. This one was no wilting southern belle. She had opinions and wasn't afraid to voice them.
The day had passed quickly, Matt admiring her fishing skills and she admiring his eating ability. Easy conversation and laughter filled the afternoon, and Matt was relieved to find himself relaxed and enjoying the company.
Rain began to darken the clouds and when the first rumbles of thunder echoed through the grove followed by a flash of lightning, a disappointed Matt called an end to the outing. As they were packing up to leave, the wind increased and the rain began to pelt the dry Kansas brush. Matt panicked, he had waited too long to leave and now Kitty would be soaked and likely as mad as a wet hen.
When he turned to urge her to hurry, he saw her dancing in the rain, shoes off, arms spread wide and laughing like a child. The rain soaked her blouse, plastering it against her voluptuous curves, her free flowing hair popped into wet ringlets around her soaked face.
He smiled as he watched and then he did the unthinkable; he played. He laughed and chased her in the rain; he picked her up and twirled her around, all the while the torrent continued and the thunder rumbled.
A sharp crack of lightening startled both of them; she jumped toward him, just as he reached to pull her closer. And there in the rain he made his mistake; he kissed her. The soft, tentative kiss quickly turned passionate, urged on by one another.
Matt pulled back from the kiss and stammered, "By golly, Kitty, I'm sorry…I just..."
"Don't you dare Matt Dillon, don't apologize. Either kiss me again or get in that buggy, but don't apologize," she declared.
Matt remembered making a conscious decision. It was like walking across a line of fire, once done, there would be no turning back. "We should get back, Kitty," then he leaned in kissed her again, a soft brush of his lips against hers, "and I won't apologize." He smiled and winked and helped her into the buggy.
To his dismay, they hadn't found another time to be alone, really alone since the picnic. As the herds merged closer to Dodge, the mayhem began. He found most every night occupied by rowdy cowboys and inebriated buyers, all allowing the liquor to make them into braver men then they really were.
He had stopped by the Long Branch every evening and shared a drink with her, shared flirtations, and even a stolen kiss in the privacy of the store room or alleyway. But the demands of the job only afforded these brief interludes.
Though not an overtly religious man, Matt thought maybe it was a sign from God that he should keep his distance. Then he would see her, smell her delicate floral scent and see her flash that winning smile; and he would question God. What could the good Lord expect from a man when He put a woman together like that?
That's when then the stranger, now known as Danby Wells had shown up. Wells had all the time in the world it seemed, and he chose to spend it in the company of Kitty.
Before he left for Abilene, he had told her he was leaving, and had promised to stop in for a beer before he left. If he had to make an appointment with her to get her away from Wells for a few minutes, then so be it. But fate once again stepped in; the traveling judge had called him to his temporary quarters at the Dodge House to clarify some land issues. The loquacious judge had kept him so long he was late leaving for Abilene, and he didn't have time to stop by the Long Branch and explain.
Kitty's POV
If she had ever believed in Prince Charming, she sure as hell knew now he didn't exist.
First Matt, the tall, handsome, too good to be true lawman was in fact, just like most men. He had finally shown some interest in her and then backed away like a scolded puppy. He had spent no more than ten minutes most evenings with her, sharing a quick drink or playing grab ass in the alley. The hopeless romantic in her allowed herself to believe he was still interested; but then he left for Abilene without saying goodbye as promised. Easy come, easy go.
Tonight with Danby was another shining moment for men. She shuddered and wrapped her arms about herself. She had no illusions about the line of work she was in; she was a saloon hostess, a whore in most people's eyes. She had been a prostitute not so long ago; it had been the only way to survive. But she had made a conscious decision a while back, she no longer relied on the carnal wants of drunken men to support her. She chose with whom and when she slept with someone, and since arriving in Dodge, she had not shared a bed with anyone. She made ample money dealing cards and dealing sex appeal without actually giving up the goods. It was outrageous how men would part with their money for a glimpse of cleavage or a quick peck on the lips. She was more than a saloon girl to owner Bill Pence. She had shown him how to keep clean books, books that could actually balance in the end and he was paying her well for that.
She assumed Danby understood the rules, but tonight he proved otherwise. They had shared a lovely dinner at the cantina on the east end of town, and on the walk back had found a quiet area to sit and chat. He kissed her, as he had many times in the last few days. Those kisses had been sweet and chaste, but this kiss became ardent and insistent, and his hands were just as unrelenting.
Pulling forcibly back, Kitty looked uncomfortable. "Whoa there, where'd this come from?"
Danby tried to pull her to him again, his voice was gruff with desire. "Come on Kitty, we've been playing house long enough. I want you, and I don't care how much it cost me."
Kitty leveled him with a glare. "It won't cost you a thing, Danby, because that's not going to happen."
He let out a choked laugh, still holding tight to her arms. "Quit playing games Kitty. You may have class, but even a classy whore has a price. I've been more than patient, playing along with you, making you feel like a lady, but now I want my reward."
"Let me go, now. There is no reward, I thought I had made it clear to you I was companionship only." She tried to struggle free of the grip he had on her arms.
A soft look came over his face, he loosened his grip, but did not let go. "Look, Kitty, I'm sorry I said the things I did, but I just can't be around you and not want to have you. I mean you do work in a saloon, and well, I assumed you were, umm, a dove, but that doesn't change how I feel about you."
Kitty pulled loose from his grip and stood. "Well it sure as hell changes how I feel about you." She began to stomp off, but he rose and with a few strides caught her arm and whirled her around.
"Look missy, I've been a lot of places, and a woman in a pleasure house is a whore, so that makes you no different. So either you take the money, or you give it to me for free…. it's your call."
Wells pushed her against the wall of a small darkened building and began to assault her face with hard kisses as his hands tore at the fabric of her dress. Knowing she needed to stay in control, Kitty softened her stance and moaned his name, "Oh Danby..."
Thinking he had made his conquest, he again loosened his hold on her and buried his face into her neck, inhaling the scent of her hair and skin. At that moment Kitty raised her knee with as much force as she could muster and rammed it into the swollen groin of Danby Wells. As he buckled over in pain, she pushed him to the ground. Adjusting her crumpled dress to cover herself, she looked down at Wells writhing in pain.
Leaving him rolling in the dirt, she walked off calling back to him, "Guess you picked the wrong whore this time."
Matt's POV
Well, at least Wells' wasn't with Kitty, but he hadn't liked what he had seen at the Bull's Head. Making his rounds, he had peered over the wooden plank door, looking for any signs of trouble - usually an abundant commodity at this establishment. He had spied Wells, with a worn looking woman on his lap and a bottle of whiskey in his free hand. He watched as Wells buried his face in the woman's chest, biting hard enough to elicit a yelp from her. She smacked the back of his head demanding he stop. Wells pulled up his head, his face an ugly mask of alcohol and anger.
"Shut up! You whores are all alike." He yanked the woman's dirty yellow hair hard, pulling her head back forcibly and began his assault on her chest again. The woman struggled to get away, obviously in pain from both his hair pulling and the forceful use of his mouth.
Matt parted the doors and in three strides was by the table. "I think the lady wants you to stop."
Wells loosened his grip on the woman's hair and looked up at the tree of a man standing beside his table. He sneered, his reddened eyes telling of his drunkenness. "There ain't any ladies in this God forsaken town. Mind yer own business."
Matt stood firm, his legs spread slightly apart, his hand near his Colt. "This town and its citizens are my business, now let the lady go."
Danby laughed an ugly laugh and pushed the woman off his lap and she landed with an unceremonious thud to the floor. Wells thrust his chair back powerfully and stood eyeing the marshal.
"Wells, don't be a fool, go back to your room and sleep it off," Matt commanded, his lips drawn tight.
For a brief moment, Wells looked as if he was going to consider taking the lawman on, but his drunkenness and a small semblance of good judgment convinced him otherwise.
"Yeah, sleep it off and then get shed of this town as soon as possible. Good advice Marshal, good advice." After tipping his hat to the lawman, he stumbled out of the saloon.
Matt followed and watched him lurch down the boardwalk and into the ornate glass and wood front doors of the Dodge House. Dillon didn't stand for a man treating a woman poorly- any woman- but the thought of Danby Wells treating Kitty in the way he had just witnessed turned his stomach.
Without any further thought, Matt turned and made his way to the Long Branch.
Kitty's POV
The bath had made her feel better. Her dress would need mending and she had a slight bruise forming on her left upper arm, but she was intact. Her anger again began to grow again, causing stinging bile to rise in her throat.
At twenty-two years old, Kitty Russell felt used and trapped. The decisions in her life were obviously going to continue to haunt her, regardless of what she did. A man like Matt Dillon wouldn't want to be seen in the company of a saloon girl. That would explain why he only met her in public with others or in places that peering eyes couldn't see. A business man like Danby Wells had her pegged the minute he saw her. A painted lady, a body for sale, even if she had spent the last few months trying hard to change that image.
She swallowed back the tears that threatened to fall. She wouldn't cry. She didn't even know if she had enough self-respect to cry for herself anymore. Instead, she poured herself a generous three fingers of whiskey and threw it back. The burning of the liquor combated the burning in her stomach and she fought the urge to be ill. As if to punish herself, she poured another glass and tossed it back again without hesitation.
As she fought the burn of the liquid fire, she heard the knock on her door.
"By God if it's Danby, I'll shoot him," she muttered to herself as she pulled her robe on over her bare skin. "Who is it?"
"Kitty, it's Matt, I need to see you." Surprised by the caller, she opened the door a crack.
"What is it Matt, I'm kind of tired."
Matt stood at the door, hat in hand and one arm propped against the door frame. He was, even in her anger, a sight to behold. "Kitty, I just want to talk to you for a minute, if you don't mind."
She opened the door wide, allowing him entrance. She returned to the small dresser on which the bottle of whiskey stood. She refilled her glass and looking over her shoulder, offered some to the marshal.
"Umm, no thanks Kitty. I just wanted to tell you… well I'm not quite sure how to say this…"
"Say what Matt that I'm not the kind of girl you're used to being seen with? That you don't want to see me anymore? The easiest way is just say it."
She noted the confused look in his eyes assuming he was surprised she had figured out his shame so quickly.
He stammered, "Look Kitty, I don't know what…"
"S'all right Matt, hell I'm surprised it took you this long. Why, an upstanding man like yourself couldn't be seen with the likes of a common saloon girl." She threw the third shot of whiskey back and poured her fourth.
"Kitty, just hear me out a minute, would you?" He pleaded, running his hand through his thick curly hair.
She didn't reply, but raised her glass toward him, giving him the floor.
"Kitty, I know it's none of my business, and well, I know you know a lot of men..."
The heat infused her face in a rush. He had just said it. Thinking he thought it was one thing, but hearing him say it was like a slap in the face. Her face contorted, her eyes glared at him through slits and her mouth was set in a firm unrelenting line. She used the hand that was holding the glass and pointed her thin index finger at him.
"Yep, that's right, Kitty Russell knows ALL kinds of men, hell every man that passes through Dodge makes the acquaintance of Kitty! Even you, the big marshal, you tried, didn't you?"
Matt held up his hands to ward off the venom that was spewing from her. "Kitty, hold on, you got me wrong. They say you know Danby Wells, and I…"
"You bet I know him, and I know every man just like him! I know you too, Matt, don't think I don't. Let's see what Kitty gives. Can't be seen with her out in public, so I'll take her far away from Dodge, or meet her in an alley or a back room. Well here you are, Cowboy…right smack dab in the den of inequity, so put your money on the table."
She glared at him and set the glass down hard, spilling the remains over her hand. She jerked her robe over her shoulders, exposing them and the milky white expanse of her chest.
She stared at him long and hard, meeting his grimace head on. "What has gotten into you, Kitty?" he seethed between clenched teeth.
She strode toward him, clutching the robe to her chest. "What Matt can't take it? Can't stand hearing me call myself a whore, a harlot, a painted lady? Why, you've known it all along, haven't you?"
He backed her up with his hands, "Stop this, stop it right now. Don't say those things." His breath was coming heavy, a result of his frustration at the way this conversation had turned.
Feeling her back against the wall, she pushed on his chest with her hand. "You've thought it too, you hide me out, you avoid me, well here I am Matt, no one can see you…"
He slammed his fist against the wall by her head, and she instinctively ducked away. "Dammit, Kitty! Stop! That is not how I feel about you!" He looked down and saw her eyes widen with fear at his outburst, her chest heaved up and down under the gown, the full mounds peeking over the fabric which barely covered them. "Oh Kitty…" he groaned and bent his head down and softly kissed the top of her auburn hair, still damp from her bath.
She let her grip on the robe go and wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him tight against her body. She allowed one hand to run up the expanse of his wide muscular back and entwine in the curls at the nape of his neck. She tugged at his hair until he raised his head and she pulled his face down to hers. Capturing his lips in hard demanding kiss, she pushed her tongue past his warm lips into the deep recesses of his mouth. Her anger turned to desire as she felt his hard body pressed against hers and his hands roaming over her silky robe.
She allowed him to explore her face, neck and chest with his hungry mouth, reveling in the feel of the man that she had wanted with all her being for almost two months now. She slid her hands under his vest, feeling his pectorals quickly contract and release with his heated breath.
As she began to slide the vest off his shoulders, he suddenly lifted free from her breast and rested his chin atop her head. Even though he was not pressed tight against her, she could still feel his desire straining in his jeans and rubbing against her bare stomach.
"Kitty, no, not like this," he said in a deep raspy voice, strained with need.
"Yes, Matt. Yes, like this." She murmed.
He shook his head "no" but didn't move.
"I was angry and upset. Something happened, it didn't have anything to do with you, I was mad." She spoke rapidly, her breath coming in short gasps. "But I want this." She placed her hands on his vest and tugged him against her.
He placed his large hands on her shoulders, taking a moment to allow his eyes to roam over the beauty of her body. "Woman, you are beautiful. I do want you, but not like this. When we are together, it's going to be the right time, and you won't have any doubts about why."
In the most romantic gesture she had ever experienced, Matt picked her gown up from where it had pooled at her feet and slowly helped her put an arm in each sleeve, then he cinched it around her waist. He wrapped his strong arm around her and cautiously led her to the bed.
"I don't know what exactly happened tonight Kitty, but I've learned no one can make you be something you're not." He paused and placed a gentle hand along her cheek, "Now are you going to be alright?"
She looked up into his deep blue eyes and her breath was taken away by the look of concern emanating from them. "Yeah, Cowboy, I think I'm gonna be just fine. I'm sorry Matt; I don't know what came over me. I…"
He gently placed a finger over her lips, "Doesn't matter anymore. How 'bout I pick you up for breakfast tomorrow, say about eight, just you and me?"
She gave him a weary but honest smile. "It's a date, and Matt- thanks."
As he turned to go, she saw him hesitate at the door. Placing his Stetson on his head he turned to her. "Say Kitty, do me a favor would you? Stay away from that Wells character, he's bad news."
With a choked laugh she replied, "Oh, you don't know the half of it! I don't think he's going to want to get too close to me anyways. Goodnight Matt."
"See ya later Kitty."
He smiled and they held each other's gaze for a moment, then he pulled the door closed behind him.
Kitty lay back on the bed, suddenly exhausted. A shudder escaped as she thought of what had just taken place. Maybe Matt Dillon wasn't Prince Charming, but he was a damned good man.
The End
