I started out writing an ATC to Quiet Day in Dodge, but this story demanded to be told first.

These characters don't belong to me; if they did the audience would have actually seen Matt and Kitty go on a picnic once in a while.

Only a Picnic

"It was only a picnic, Doc!"

"Let me tell you something, Matt. There is no such thing as 'only a picnic' where there's a woman concerned!"

"Well, I was trailing Job Snelling. Now, I couldn't very well stop in the middle of that to go to a picnic!"

"Well, she'd gone to an awful lot of trouble for that. Why, good Heavens, she had fried chicken, she had potato salad, she had apple pie, she had...oh, it-it was delicious!"

"You mean you went?"

"Well, somebody had to. After she'd waited for you all day? Somebody had to! She wasn't in a very good mood, tell ya that."

"Quiet Day in Dodge," Season 18 episode 19, written by Jack Miller, directed by Alf Kjellin

"You think she was really mad?"

Doc shook his head, watching as Matt left the office, and swiped at his mustache vigorously. As he'd told Matt, there was no such thing as 'only a picnic' where there was a woman concerned, and this time, at least, it was much more than just a picnic to Kitty.

"I'm a-tellin' ya Doc, somethin's got ta be did! Why she's bin frettin' over him since the middle of the mornin'! I'm fixin' ta take her my ownself iffen ol' Matthew don't show up directly."

"I know, Festus." Doc's heart ached for the woman he looked at as a daughter. He knew she'd gotten up at dawn to start getting ready for that picnic, despite the fact that Matt hadn't returned as expected the afternoon before. On his way to the Long Branch for his usual morning cup of coffee with Kitty, he ran into her returning from the jail. The smile she was wearing in anticipation didn't quite reach her eyes and Doc knew he still hadn't come back. Nor, he soon found out, had there been any word from him. "Well, don't do anything, Festus. I'll go talk to her and if Matt doesn't show up, I'll go with her." He was relieved when Festus went back to the jail without arguing with him about which of them would get to stand in for Matt and enjoy the picnic Kitty had so lovingly prepared for him. Doc knew he meant well, and in his own way might have been even more worried about Kitty than he was, but he didn't trust him not to stick his foot in his mouth and say something to make her feel worse.

He found Kitty in her office, going over the books he knew she'd finished hours ago. "I suppose Festus sent you over here," she greeted him tartly. It was a defense mechanism she used when she was upset and he refused to take offense at her tone.

"I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about," Doc replied casually as he pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. "I just thought it might be nice to go on a picnic."

"What a coincidence." She rolled her eyes and gestured toward the picnic basket. "I just happen to have a picnic lunch that's about to go to waste. Help yourself."

Doc swiped his hand over his mustache. "Come on. I've got the buggy waiting out back."

Kitty shook her head. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, Doc, but it won't work."

"Well, why in thunder not? Are you trying to tell me I've gotten so old I can't talk a pretty lady into going on a picnic with me?"

One side of her mouth twitched slightly; whether she was trying to keep from smiling or force herself to, Doc wasn't sure. "Well, Curly, since you put it that way, all right. I'll go. But I think it's only fair to warn you, I'm not gonna be very good company."

"I'll take my chances." He stood and offered his arm to Kitty, who after a moment slammed her ledger shut and closed the roll-top desk none too gently before joining him. Doc picked up the picnic basket as they walked past it and they were on their way.

Kitty was absolutely right about not being very good company, Doc concurred as they arrived at their picnic spot. He had gotten off on the wrong foot immediately by thoughtlessly asking if she wanted to go to Silver Creek. What could he have been thinking? After that, every effort on his part to cajole Kitty into a better mood was met with failure, and after being snapped at half a dozen times, Doc patted her arm and sighed, "I'm sorry, Kitty. I'll shut up now." He drove the buggy the rest of the way in silence, wondering if Festus would have done a better job of things, after all. Kitty sighed audibly several times but said nothing, spending the rest of the drive pouting. Doc loved Kitty dearly, but there was no other word for it. Still, he couldn't blame her for being upset with Matt. He may not have had a choice about missing this picnic, but things didn't have to continue that way.

"Doc, I want to apologize," Kitty began as he was helping her out of the buggy. "I shouldn't have said those things on the way here. You aren't the one I'm mad at, and if Matt was here, I guess I wouldn't have a reason to be mad at him. I know you were just trying to help."

"Well, that's all right. You know he'd be here if he could, Kitty."

"I'm beginning to wonder about that, Doc. If you don't mind, I'd rather not talk about him right now."

"You bet."

Matt Dillon had to be the biggest damn fool in Ford County, Doc observed silently while he and Kitty feasted on the picnic—at least, Doc feasted. The fried chicken was perfect, and everyone knew Kitty made the best potato salad in Dodge. He'd eaten three pieces of chicken and was on his second helping of potato salad when he noticed Kitty was just picking at her food. She'd cooked for Matt, and that meant there was more than enough food for the two of them, and she wasn't eating any of it.

She caught him staring at her plate. "Here, Doc, how about some more pickled beets," she offered in an obvious attempt to distract him from making the observation out loud.

"No thanks, honey, I'm saving room for that pie."

Kitty dropped her fork and pushed her plate away. "Go ahead and have as much as you want," she said, standing before he had a chance to get up and help her. "I'm just not hungry." Doc watched her as she walked, arms folded at her waist, to a tree about fifty yards away. She leaned against the tree, back to him, head down.

While his appetite wasn't exactly ruined, Doc didn't feel right about sitting alone eating pie when Kitty was so troubled. He let her have a few minutes before he approached her. "Come on, Kitty, eat some of that pie with me," he said gently.

"No, Doc, I...I need to take a little weight off anyway," she whispered, looking at her feet.

"Oh, you quit talkin' like that. You know perfectly well the few pounds you think you need to take off have nothing to do with Matt not being here."

Kitty murmured something unintelligible that might have been "I know, Doc," and he realized she'd been crying, or trying not to cry. He knew she hated to cry and hated even more to be caught at it, but he couldn't help wanting to fix things for her if he could.

"Kitty, let's go back over and have a piece of pie and talk this out, all right? Come on now, before the ants get to it."

"All right," she said quietly, looking up at him with a sad smile as he took her arm to walk back with her. She sliced the pie with shaking hands and they ate silently for a few minutes. Kitty put hers down after only a few bites.

"I'm sorry, Doc. I tried. I'm just not hungry." She sighed. "I feel guilty for being so selfish."

"Selfish! Why in Heaven's name would say that?"

"Oh, Doc, here I am all mad about a silly little picnic when...well, suppose he isn't just too busy to get back. What if…."

"Kitty, you usually have pretty good instincts about these things. Do you think something's happened?"

"No, and if I did you'd probably be telling me it was too soon to worry. I'm sure he just had another outlaw to chase or came across someone needing help. It's not really the picnic I'm mad about, Doc."

"I had a feeling it might be something else, Kitty. Matt always makes it up to you when something like this happens. It won't be any different this time."

"That's what I'm getting at. Someday it will be. Let's face it; he's beaten the odds for a lot longer than any of us thought he would. You know, I didn't really believe him at first when he told me he expected to die young. I thought it was just his way of putting me off. So I accepted that for what it was, and I was happy to see him when he was around, but I didn't worry about him too much when he was gone. Then he got shot a few times, and I started worryin', and he went missing a few times and I worried more. Then when Gore's gang came through here and we thought...well, you know what would have happened to me if he really had been killed. Lately it seems to get harder every time he leaves. I figure it's just a matter of time before he…" Kitty stopped for a moment to compose herself. "I never know if every picnic, every dance, every...every night, even every drink, might be our last time together. This wasn't just a picnic, Doc. It was a missed opportunity." She dabbed a lacy handkerchief at the tears welling up in her eyes before they could spill out.

Doc cleared his throat and tugged at his ear before responding. "Well, Kitty, that's just a part of life. You know that. None of us can know when our time will be up, and that's true of cowboys and homesteaders...and doctors and saloonkeepers, not just US marshals. Matt does his best to get himself back to you in one piece, even if it's not always on time."

Kitty smiled ruefully. "I know, Doc. It just seems to bother me a lot more lately. I'll be all right. I feel better now that we've talked about it."

"Well, I'm sure whatever Matt's up to, he'll be relieved to have you let him off the hook for missing the picnic." Doc chuckled.

Kitty looked at Doc in surprise. With her usual spirit, she rested her hands on her hips and tossed her head. "Now, Curly, did I say I was letting him off the hook?"

"Doc, you think she was really mad?" Matt looked like he'd rather tangle with his prisoner again than try to placate Kitty in his present condition.

"Oh, well-ohhhh!" Doc raised his brows at Matt. He had been telling him for years that it was time to quit, in the hope that he would take off his badge and make a life with Kitty, but the man was just too stubborn to quit. Until recently, Doc would have said that Kitty was just as stubborn. He recalled telling Matt there was a limit to what one man could take; couldn't the same be said about a woman? Kitty had spent a lifetime putting Matt first while coming in second to his badge. If nearly losing Kitty to the Dog Soldiers months earlier hadn't been enough to get Matt to make some changes, he didn't know what would.

Doc said none of this. Most of it had been said before, and to no avail. He gave Matt a piercing look, hoping to impart some of that silent communication the big man and Kitty were so good at, and said gruffly, "Whatever you say to her Matt, don't tell her it was only a picnic!"

END