The Bodyguard

“Sam, don’t lift that, it’s too heavy,” Kitty called as the bartender picked up the full beer keg.  
	“Miss Kitty, I’ve been lifting your beer kegs for some fifteen years.  They weigh the same today as they did then,” he called back but a stiff pain in his chest told him he might have heeded Kitty’s advice.  Setting it down on the table before he dropped it, he clutched his chest to try to ease the pain.  It only got worse.  With a stifled yelp, he fell to his knees knocking an entire case of rye off its perch to crash on the floor.  
	“Sam!” Kitty yelled from the bar.  “Sam what did you do drop it on your toe?” she said laughing as she walked in.  At the sight of Sam prone on the floor, she fell to her knees and pulled him close, “Sam?”
	“I guess I shouldn’t have lifted that keg Miss Kitty,” he managed through clenched teeth.  
	“You just lay here, I’ll go get Doc,” she said and gently pressed the man’s head to the floor.  In a flash she was running from the Long Branch across to Doc’s office.  

	It had taken three men to get Sam up to Doc’s, but there wasn’t much the physician could do once he was there.  His heart had given out plain and simple.  It was just a matter of time before he died.  Kitty Russell stood straight-backed and stiff lipped in Doc’s office.  He hadn’t been out to see her yet, but she knew it couldn’t be good if it was taking this long.  Hearing the familiar sound of Matt’s footsteps coming up the stairs, she took a deep breath to try to face him bravely.  
	“Kitty?” Matt asked as he stepped in the room. 
	Her bravado didn’t last long.  She sniffed, “I don’t know anything yet Matt.”
	Large warm hands covered her shoulders and tried to give her some strength.  It only made her weaker and she leaned back into the marshal, nearly falling as she did.  “Hey,” he said and pulled Doc’s desk chair over for her to sit in.  From the look on her face, Dillon didn’t have to ask what Kitty felt or thought.  She knew Sam probably wasn’t going to last long.  
“Matt,” she tried and gave up.  Pulling the linen handkerchief out of her sleeve cuff, she wiped away some of the tears.  Dillon perched one leg on the exam table.  “What happened?”
“He just collapsed.”
Kitty wanted to say more, but she didn’t know anything else.  The door opened to the exam room and Doc came out slowly, not wanting to meet Kitty’s eyes.  “Kitty, Sam wants to see you,” he said quietly.  As she started to pass him, he grabbed her arm, “He’ll not make it Kitty.”
She nodded and steeled herself for what she knew would be the last time she’d get to see her old friend.  Sam Noonan was pale and unmoving in the bed.  He had his eyes closed and it took so long for him to draw a breath that she thought he’d already passed before she could come in.  “Sam?” she asked half out of dread.  
His eyes fluttered open and he tried to focus on Kitty, but he was so exhausted that he couldn’t turn his head to face her.  Moving his hand a little, he croaked, “Miss Kitty?”
She took the hand, gripped it tightly, “I’m here Sam.  Save your strength.  I need you behind the bar.”
He nodded slightly, “Yes ma’am.”  His eyes closed but Kitty held tight to his hand.  She wasn’t going to let him go so easily, but she really had no way to keep him with her.  Doc would have done everything he knew how.  The problem was that Doc just couldn’t stop time or fate.  She stood there with his hand till she thought she was going to collapse.  Shifting her weight to draw the chair closer to her with her foot, she sat down prepared to stay as long as it took.  She’d closed the Long Branch down when he’d fallen so she didn’t have to worry about that.  
Dillon peeked in the door about fifteen minutes later, “Kitty?”
The red curls bobbed back and forth sadly.  Matt was tempted to stay with Kitty, but he had a town to look after and Sam wasn’t in need of any of his help now.  Leaning down to whisper in her ear, “I’ll be back in a little bit all right?”
“All right Matt.  I’m fine,” she whispered back huskily.  The tears made her voice deeper than it usually was.  
He left and Doc stayed out in the office to field off anyone else that might want information on the popular man.  
Kitty sat quiet till she dozed in the chair.  The sun was beginning to set outside and the room was getting dark.  Doc opened the door to check Sam’s pulse and light a lamp.  His condition was worse, but he clung to life.  Kitty didn’t need to be told the facts.  She knew by the lack of strength in the giant’s gentle hand.  Sniffling, she just wanted the day to start all over and her not have Sam take that damned barrel into the stockroom.  Miserable over the matter, she asked, “Doc, if he’d not been lifting that barrel…”
“It wouldn’t have mattered Kitty,” Doc said softly knowing she wanted to blame someone, and she couldn’t find anyone else to pin it on.  “His heart could have gone out anytime.  He might have had an attack in his sleep or riding a horse or serving a beer.  Don’t ever think of blaming yourself.”
She nodded, “All right.”
Sam’s hand twitched and for a split second her heart leaped.  Maybe he was going to be better after all.  “Sam?”
“Miss Kitty,” he called.  She leaned close, “Yes Sam.”
The hangdog barkeep managed to give her a smile, “Best boss a man could have.”
She didn’t even try to keep the tears from spilling down her cheeks, “I couldn’t do it without ya Sam.” 
“You’ll do fine,” he whispered and the hand went limp in her grasp.  Kitty didn’t want to let it go.  
“He’s gone Kitty,” Doc didn’t have to say but he did.  He noted the time and date in his head so he could record it, death from a heart attack.  If he could find out how old Sam was, he’d put that down too.  Kitty kept petting the large hand, wondered how many times he’d poured beer all night or done odd jobs to get them so calloused.  Tears flowed easily down her cheeks.  Out in the office, the door opened and shut and Festus’ familiar jingle let them know he was there.  Solemnly he peeked in, heard Kitty’s quiet sobbing and saw he was too late.  “Doc?”
“Festus, if you can go get a hold of Percy,” Doc Adams said softly.  
“Aw Doc,” the deputy sighed.  Coming over to Kitty, he laid a hand on her shoulder, “Is there anything I can do Miss Kitty?”
“Tell Percy I’ll pay for anything and I want the best for my Sam,” she replied stiffly, and with red-rimmed eyes faced Haggen firmly. 
“Yes ma’am.  I’ll let Matthew and Newly know,” he said and headed back down to the street.  Kitty tried to pull herself together, leaned her forehead on her hand to try to wipe the headache she had away.   
Adams came over, took Sam’s hand out of her grip, “Go on, you need to get some rest.”
Kitty was so tired she didn’t know if she could move or not.  Finally working up the strength to stand and head out to the office, she wondered where the day had gone.  It was pitch black outside.  It had been midmorning when Sam had been brought in.  Not waiting for Doc to come out with her, she went out the door and headed down the stairs.  Dodge was fairly quiet.  It was a Tuesday and there weren’t any cattle drives around so she wouldn’t have had much business. She didn’t care about selling drinks tonight anyway.  Matt and Festus saw her from across the street.  “Kitty,” Dillon called and hurried over to her even though she didn’t stop.  
“He’s gone Matt,” she said softly.  He nodded, “Festus told me.  Kitty, I’m sorry.  I know how much Sam meant to you.”
“Yeah, yeah he meant a lot,” she replied.  
“Take you to dinner?” he tried.  Festus headed up to see if he could help Doc with anything and left Matt to try to console Kitty. 
“I’m not hungry Matt.  I’ll buy you a drink though,” she answered as she unlocked the Long Branch doors.  He followed her in and shut the doors behind her.  It was just as they’d left it that morning.  Some of the chairs were around tables. Some of them were still upside down from the night before.  Heading behind the bar, she pulled out a couple of glasses and a bottle of her best whiskey.  Popping the cork and pouring one for Matt and a larger one for herself, she toasted before she drank it, “To Sam, the best damned barkeep a lady could have.”  The drink never made it to her lips.  She collapsed in a heap crying.  Dillon wasn’t sure what to do with her.  He didn’t have anyone to go hunt down or arrest to make her happy or salve her conscience.  Finishing the whiskey, he stepped behind the bar to pull her to him.  She was so tired and needed to get some rest.  
“Come on, I’ll put you to bed,” he said and walked her up the stairs to her room.  

The Long Branch remained closed.  Kitty knew she couldn’t shut down forever, but it was a slow week and she didn’t need the money that badly.  Black satin draped the doors and windows to let everyone know the place was in mourning, but no one in town had to be reminded.  Sam Noonan had been such a solid citizen in Dodge that his absence was keenly felt everywhere.  Kitty promised he’d have a fine funeral, and he did.  She’d spared no expense to lay him to rest with the dignity that any man deserved.  His casket was a special order job.  She didn’t want just any pine box.  It had to be extra long anyway.  The group of men he’d usually played at barn dances with played for his wake with his fiddle lying as tribute nearby.  More people showed up for Sam’s wake than Kitty thought that he actually knew. But she was always amazed at how much Sam knew about what was going on in and around town that she had no clue about.  She always did say that men were worse gossips than any group of women when they got together.  Even Burke had held his tongue and not made her so mad she wanted to slap him.  She didn’t know if it was because Burke felt some true remorse at Sam’s death or if he was warned that Kitty wasn’t in any mood to take any of his lip.  
Kitty was sitting with her cup of coffee and the books when Dillon dropped by.  She was still closed but the day was warm and she’d opened the doors to let air in.  “Kitty?”
“Hello Matt, want some coffee?” she asked and nodded at the pot.  
“Thanks, anything’s better than that mess Festus made this morning.  I thought Chester made lousy coffee, but sometimes I think Festus uses dirt instead of grounds to heat,” he said and took a long drink of Kitty’s brew. It went down smooth and easy like coffee was supposed to do, “You know if you ever get out of the saloon business, you could open up a coffee shop.”
She laughed, “Why so I could just get the drunks that need sobered up?  I’ll stick to this thanks.”
Dillon cast her a sidelong glance, “When you gonna open back up?”
“Why you want a drink?” she asked and started to get up to go behind the bar. 
“No, it’s just that well it’s not the same without the Long Branch open.  I know it’ll be hard without Sam, but you’ve got to go on, unless you don’t want to.”
“Well, I have a few fellows in mind to take over for him.  I figure to be open by Monday.  Is that soon enough for you?” she asked with a soft smile. 
“I’m sure you’ll do a landmark business.  Well, I should get up and get going.  I’ll see you later all right?” he winked and headed for the swinging doors.  A fancy dressed gentleman stopped him, “Hello can you tell me where I can find a Mr. Russell?”
“I don’t know a Mr. Russell but I can show you a Miss Russell,” Dillon answered with a glance back at Kitty.
“I need the owner of the Long Branch Saloon,” the man restated. 
“Then you need Miss Russell.”  Matt walked him over to her table, “Miss Kitty Russell, owner of the Long Branch.”
The man was a little awe struck either by the fact that Russell was a woman or the fact that she was a very pretty woman.  Matt thought of sticking around for a while, but he knew that she could take care of herself as she always did.  He didn’t look like anything more than a business deal anyway.  With a tip of his hat he said, “I’ll see you later Kitty.”
“All right Matt,” she replied and pointed to an empty chair, “Please sit down.”
“Thank you,” he replied and pulled out some documents from the briefcase.  “Miss Russell, I am John Finch of Finch, Bentley, and Howe.  I’ve come about the estate of the late Sam Noonan.”
Kitty shook her head, “Sam?”
“He did work for you for fifteen years,” Finch asked for clarification. 
“Yes, yes he did.  I just can’t imagine Sam having anything to leave to anyone.  He always lived in that little place next to the tracks,” Kitty said with a disbelieving look on her face.  
“Well, he apparently saved some money while he stayed in that little place.  He’s left the entire amount to you.  He left instructions on what he wanted done with it,” John Finch said.  Handing her an envelope with the bank draft and instructions, he said, “It is all very straight forward and since you are a business woman of some… ability, I think you’ll have no trouble figuring it all out.  I will be staying at the Dodge House overnight before going back on the morning stage.  If you have any other questions, or need me for any reason, please let me know.”
Kitty nodded, she was just too stunned to really say anything and took the packet.  Finch popped the bowler hat back on his head and with a smile left Kitty alone in her saloon.  She kept turning the packet over in her hands.  Sam left whatever he had in the world to her.  Slipping a fingernail under the flap to open it, she shook the contents out.  A letter, a bank draft for almost $3,000.00, and a medallion on a chain fell out.  She looked at the medallion.  It was some religious figure and said St. Christopher on it.  From her early Catholic upbringing she knew he was the patron saint of travelers.  There was nothing unusual about it.  It wasn’t engraved or especially valuable.  In fact it was a little careworn, but Kitty smiled as she laid it aside.  She opened the letter, two letters actually.  The first was a detail of what was to be done with the money.  It was to be used for any worthwhile charity or event she thought Dodge City would most benefit from.  She had a few in mind already and folded the letter up along with the bank draft, “Sam Noonan, you softy…”  The last item was addressed specifically to her: 

Miss Kitty,
I know that if you’ve gotten this you’ve already thrown the wake and buried me.  Knowing you it was the biggest bash Dodge City has ever seen and I wasn’t there to either tend bar or play for the dance.  I thank you for that.  You’re probably wondering why I left you the St. Christopher medal.  It stood me in good stead during the war and if anyone needs someone to watch over them while they travel it is you.  I’ve never met a woman so stubborn and willful and as lucky as you.  You’ve been the best boss I ever had.  You can tell Marshal Dillon he’s a fool for not marrying you years ago.  You can tell him Sam said it too.  I won’t be there to care if he does get mad.  You can also tell him that he owes me $13,140 for services rendered.  He said he’d pay me $3.00 a day.  Tell him if he can’t pay me off right now, I’ll catch him later.  I guess I can tell you now since it doesn’t matter anymore, but I’ve loved you like you were my own flesh and blood since the day you hired me, 

Proud to have known you, 
	
Sam

Kitty Russell couldn’t read the words they were so blurred.  Picking up the medal she clutched it and said, “Oh Sam…”  
Behind her Matt Dillon checked back in to see if the man had left.  He found Kitty sobbing into her sleeve.  “Kitty, are you all right?”
She nodded but didn’t stop crying. “I’m fine…” she wailed.  
He was concerned, “You look fine.” 
Kitty waved the letter at him and he took it.  Reading through it quickly he could see why she was crying.  Setting his hands on her shoulders, he squeezed them lightly, “He did have a great fondness for you.”
Kitty bobbed her head up and down and tried to breathe through the stopped up nose.  “I’ve always felt it, but he never came right out and said it.”
“Well, you could sure tell it when you two worked together,” Matt replied and folded the letter back up to give to her.  
She reread the letter and came to the enormous figure he owed Sam.  “What’s this $13,000 you owed him?  Three dollars a day?”
Matt had to think on that for a while.  It took him back nearly 13 years to an incident when her life had been threatened.  “You remember way back there was a gang who threatened to kill a man a day until I left town so they could steal a gold shipment out of the bank?” 
Kitty thought.  There were so many times her life had been threatened for some reason or the other.  But something about part of the story clicked, “I think so.”
“Well, I tried to get you to leave town and as usual my stubborn, beautiful redhead wouldn’t do what I wanted.  So, I did the next best thing.  I hired you a bodyguard, Sam at a rate of three dollars a day.” Matt explained smiling at the memory.  
“You hired Sam?”
“Well, I tried to hire Sam,” he said.  “I offered him the money and he refused.  Said he would take care of you for me but wouldn’t accept a single penny.  Through the years I’ve offered to reimburse him for keeping watch over the Long Branch or as guard at the jail.  He simply refused.  I guess when I asked him to watch over you that day he just made sure to keep an eye on you for the rest of his life.  I didn’t know he’d taken me so seriously all those years ago.  But I sure am glad he did,” Matt said and patted Kitty’s hand as she held the medallion.  
“Oh Matt…” she managed and looked at him tearfully, “I’ll never find another like Sam…” 
“No, I don’t think you will.  But maybe he’s still looking after you,” Dillon suggested and took the medal from her grasp.  Untangling the long chain, he slipped it over Kitty’s head careful not to screw her hair up.  The pewter charm wasn’t nearly as flashy as her jewelry but she smiled, “I’ll never take it off.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.  Why?” she asked wondering why he was so insistent on it.  
“Well, I can hardly afford to pay another bodyguard three dollars a day.  I’m afraid when I’m not here, you’ll just have to rely on old Sam there to keep you safe from harm,” Matt said with a twinkle in his blue eyes.  
She smiled, “Oh, yeah, Sam’ll always be with me.  You won’t have to worry about that.”