Anywhere but Here
The stage jostled Miss Kathleen Russell, late of New Orleans, Louisiana till she thought she was either going to scream or throw up.  Just when she thought she’d get used to one pattern of movement the coach would hit a rut and shift its rocking.  Peeking out the window, she could just make out the sign:  Dodge City, Kansas population 850.  Just another cow town like all the others on her way to anywhere else but New Orleans.  With a sigh she leaned against the seat.  If anything, the rocking would stop soon.  
The rain had stopped hours earlier but not before it had turned Front Street into a veritable hog wallow.  As the coach came to a halt, Kitty wondered how to save her new boots from the street.  The driver got down from his perch, opened the door, “Dodge City ma’am.”
Kitty stuck her head out the door, grimaced at the smell. A hog wallow wasn’t too far from wrong.  “What time does this stage leave?” she asked as her left foot sunk three inches straight down.  The muck was cold.  She might as well be barefoot.  
“Stage leaves in an hour ma’am,” the driver answered as he started getting the baggage out of the back.  
Kitty took a look around, found nothing but bleak and dreary buildings.  It was chilly; she could see her breath in the air.  Across the street was a café.  “Just don’t leave without me,” she said determinedly and started wading to get breakfast.  
Judging by the looks she was getting, red was not a common hair color in these parts; at least not Kitty’s flame red.  Breakfast was a busy meal, but there was a corner table next to the heating stove.  That was fine by her; she was cold.  A waiter came up to pour coffee in her upturned cup.  Kitty smiled, “Thank you.  I’ll have the special, and is there a room where I can freshen up?” 
“Upstairs to the left.  Would you like biscuits or toast?” he asked before she left.  
“Toast please,” Kitty answered and headed upstairs.  
The ‘room’ was basically a closet with a water basin and a towel.  
But, it was a better than a muddy puddle and she took the opportunity to wash her face and hands before going back downstairs.  Checking her hair in the mirror, she put an errant curl back in place and smiled.  She was half sea sick from the ride, but her hair held up fine.  Checking her shoes and finding them caked with mud she considered wiping them off, but figured they’d get just as filthy on the way back to the stage.  Mindful of the time, she finished and went back for her breakfast.  
A plate filled with eggs, ham steak, and grits waited on her.  With a hungry sigh, she went to work.  She only had another hour to spare till she got back to the stage.  Pausing only long enough to sip coffee, she glanced up.  A tree had just walked into the restaurant.  Cup still half up to her lips, she watched it walk across the floor and choose a table across the room.  She’d never seen such a tall man, nor one quite so good looking.  He was no New Orleans dandy, but he could give them a run for their money if he tried.  Kitty completely forgot her breakfast as she watched the man.  By the way he acted, he was quite a popular man.  Someone said something funny and his smile suddenly made the room twice as bright and filled with color.  A deep laugh erupted in the room, making Kitty nearly drop her fork into the plate.  For an odd reason, her heart pounded so hard she felt sure she was red faced from the heat.  With a shake of her head, she thought she was being silly.  She’d seen lots of tall, handsome men.  Why was this one so different?  
Getting back to her eggs, they were stone cold.  How long had she 
been watching him?  Glancing at the clock, she nearly gasped.  She’d sat 
there for a full forty-five minutes.  Giving the waiter a tip as she paid the 
bill, she brushed past the man she’d spent so much time observing.  A flash 
of silver caught her eye, but she didn’t check to see what it was.  The 
boardwalk was bustling with people as she waited for a farmer to herd pigs 
down the street.  The sight just endeared the town to her.  With a start she 
jumped as three men full of drink already at 7 in the morning rolled down 
the walk.  Losing her balance, she started to fall into the street when an arm 
reached out and grabbed her.  “Whoa there Miss…” 
Kitty turned in the gentle but strong grasp.  The tree had saved her best traveling dress.  “Uh, thank you, Kitty.”
“Kitty?” he asked with a mischievous look.  
“Kitty Russell,” she replied and straightened her skirt.  “And you?”
“Matt Dillon,” he grinned.  She looked to be a spitfire if he’d ever 
seen one.  
“Well, Matt Dillon, if I were staying around longer I’d buy you a drink,” she said.  
“And I’d take you up on it, if you change your mind about leaving let me know,” Dillon said and with a wink started down the boardwalk.  Kitty watched him for a building or two and started across the street again.  As other passengers started lining up for the stage, Kitty caught a glimpse of her knight gallant walking across to the marshal’s office.  With a sudden impulse, she stopped the driver before he shut up the baggage compartment, “I’ll go ahead and stop here.”
“Thought you wanted to make sure you left this town,” he said with a confused look.
“Well, I’ll just hang around for a day or two.  I’ll see you then,” she decided and took her carpetbag and a large valise.  Watching the coach head off to the west, she sighed.  Here she was, stuck in a cow town with a grand sum of $39.25 cents in her bag and a man’s smile as her only friend.