Standard disclaimers apply. I don't own these characters except for everyone besides Matt, Kitty, Doc and Festus. Also, I'm not a doctor or a lawyer so a little leeway on those issues might be necessary.

Wrongful Death

Chapter 1

The Last Will and Testament of Silas Gardner

Thursday, July 24

Festus Haggen entered The Long Branch Saloon carrying a stack of mail in one hand and a handkerchief in the other. He stopped just inside the door and wiped away the trickle of sweat that had begun to fall from his forehead.

"Shore is a hot one, ain't it?" he remarked as he made his way to the bar and took a stool.

"You can say that again," Kitty replied, trying to create a breeze with the Harper's Magazine she had been perusing on this slow afternoon. It was July in Dodge City, and the oppressive heat wave was now in its third day.

"I brung yer mail," Festus announced proudly, handing her the stack of envelopes. Kitty had given the Post Office permission to let Festus pick up her mail, knowing how he enjoyed delivering it as if reading the address himself.

"Well thank you, Festus," she said with a smile. "I appreciate it."

"Oh, it wasn't no trouble 'tall," he assured her. "Seein' as I was already headin' over here anyways."

"Oh, you were?" she asked, fairly certain she knew why.

"It's hotter'n the devil's waitin' room, Miss Kitty. A feller needs to keep hisself from gettin' too dried out on a day like this. Now let me see here..." Festus began to rifle through his pockets, looking for the same coin that seemed to elude him every time he visited the establishment.

"Tell you what," Kitty offered, drawing some beer into a mug. "This one's on the house since you were thoughtful enough to get the mail for me."

"Well…if you insist. Much obliged," he nodded, grabbing the handle and sucking down a good third of the brew in a few continuous swallows.

Kitty chuckled as Festus accepted his usual reward. Pulling out a chair, she sat at the nearest table and put on her reading glasses. She shuffled through the stack, scanning the expected bills and other less than exciting mail. But the last envelope caught her eye. It had come from Wichita, as both the postmark and return address indicated, and it was handwritten. She didn't know anyone in Wichita, and the shaky writing was unfamiliar. Curious, she carefully tore it open and unfolded the crisp piece of paper.

Dear Miss Russell,

I am writing on behalf of Silas Gardner, who I trust you remember from some time ago in Dodge. Mr. Gardner has been my neighbor and friend for nearly three years. I am sorry to say that he passed away a few days ago after a bout with pneumonia.

Mr. Gardner had no living relatives and gave considerable thought during his illness to who should inherit his estate. It was his final wish that his belongings be divided between the two people who showed him the most kindness during his life—his beloved housekeeper, Mrs. Frederickson, and Miss Kitty Russell of Dodge City.

Mr. Gardner had fallen on hard times when he came to Dodge, and he never forgot your merciful assistance to him during that part of his life. He told me how you would bring him food when he was sleeping in the stable, and talked others into hiring him for odd jobs. You will be pleased to know that his fortunes changed considerably once he left Dodge, and he was able to live out the rest of his life with a sense of comfort and security. Among his assets are his home, which is modest but fully paid for, and some personal possessions which he wanted you to have.

I am a retired lawyer, and Mr. Gardner asked me to record his last will and testament when he became ill. It is my sincerest hope that you are still at the address Mr. Gardner had for you and will be able to attend the reading of the will. I have scheduled this for Thursday, July 31, at 9am to accommodate Mrs. Frederickson, who is leaving town soon. It will be held at my home near Mr. Gardner's house, 950 Johnson Fork Road, Wichita, Kansas. I look forward to meeting the woman who had such a profoundly positive effect on my dear neighbor's life.

Respectfully,

Charles Metheny

Kitty slowly set the letter on the table in front of her. Silas Gardner—she hadn't heard that name in years. He was a nice man, and she had liked him as much as she pitied him. She had often wondered what happened to Silas once he left town, not expecting that it would be anything good. How old would he have been? At least 60 by now, she thought. The news that he had been able to experience a better life in Wichita before his unfortunate illness made her smile.

But leaving her half his estate? That was somewhat of a shock. She hadn't known him that well, and she only remembered helping him out a few times. Was there something she was forgetting?

Kitty picked up the letter and read the last paragraph again. The timing actually couldn't be better—she had resigned herself to spending next Thursday alone, worrying about Matt while he was attending some very unpleasant business in Hays. Wichita was just a short train trip away, and she couldn't think of a reason not to go. She didn't care about the money and didn't feel entitled to any of his possessions, but in all honesty she was intrigued. And if the man thought enough of her to do this, shouldn't she at least give the gesture as much consideration as he had? After careful contemplation, Kitty decided it was only right to show Silas Gardner the same respect in death that she had in life. She was going to Wichita.

TBC