AN: Thank you everyone for your comments. Especially guests who I cannot thank individually. On with the show.

Kitty

It was 3:00 PM and Kitty hung a sign on the doorknob outside the New Branch Diner – Closed for lunch. Will reopen for dinner at 5pm. She sat down at a table and looked around. A satisfied smile touched her lips. The past year hadn't been easy.

She'd arrived in Boston looking to buy a high-end saloon or restaurant with the proceeds from the sale of the Long Branch, but found the price of real estate shockingly high. Needing a new plan, she was taking a walk to get a feel for the city when she spotted an empty, rundown diner on a side street. She saw in it an undeveloped charm, and it even had an upstairs apartment to live in. She got in touch with the owner and was dismayed by the price. It would have taken every cent she had. Determined to have the place, she talked him into renting with long-term lease. That left her enough cash to live on until the diner starting making money.

At first she couldn't afford help, so it was one-woman operation. She was cook, waitress, dishwasher, bookkeeper and everything else, but it wasn't all that hard. There were so few customers there was hardy any work. Her two regulars were Johnny, a good-hearted drunk who could barely afford a cup of coffee and Michael Gordon, a nice man who owned a print shop around the corner. Those two and a smattering of others made up her initial clientele, but she improved the diner day by day. Her sense of style was put to good use. She haunted second hand stores for curtains, tablecloths, glassware, artwork for the walls and even an umbrella stand for rainy days. She served only the best coffee, and put a free plate of sliced hardboiled eggs on every table, so customers could snack while waiting. The dreary diner slowly became cozy and appealing, and more and more customers found their way there.

"Mary, could you come out here please?" A stout, ruddy-faced woman of about 50 came out of the kitchen, drying her hands with a dishcloth. "Yes, Miss Russell."

"What did I say about that?" Kitty looked at the woman with mock consternation.

"I'm sorry Mi.. I mean Kitty." Mary laughed. "Lordy, you're the first person I worked for that didn't treat me like a little speck of dust. You make me feel like we're in cahoots."

"We are in cahoots, as you put it. Mary, everyone loves your corned beef, and the smell of your fresh baked bread draws customers in from the street. I'm writing your 1st pay check with the promise that as business grows your salary will too. That brings me to the reason I called you just now. I want to make sure I spell your last name right."

"It's C-A-L-L-A-G-H-A-N. Callaghan."

Kitty handed over the check. " I have Declan's check too." She looked towards the door, "I hear him coming."

Thud – step – thud – step – thud. Kitty smiled warmly as he came through the door. "I have here a check made out to Declan Murphy, for two weeks of waiting tables and all around help. It's the first of many."

A wiry man in his early 40's grinned. He took the check and with a theatrical flourish bowed.

"Ah Kitty, 'tis my good luck to be getting this pay. People are full o' praise for us veterans for fighting the war, but lose a leg in that war and getting a job from one of them people ain't so easy."

"Declan, you have a peg leg but you work faster and better than most, and you care about doing a job well."

"Ah, but you wouldn't a known that without giving me a chance. You know Kitty, losing a leg is a hard thing. People pity you, and think you're good for nothing but begging in the streets – it robs a man of his dignity. I almost gave up hope."

Kitty nodded slowly. Her face darkened with the memory of siting on a horse with a noose around her neck. She had given up hope when out of nowhere gunshots sounded. It was Matt coming for her, tearing up his wounded leg so bad that Doc came close to amputating it.

Mary put a hand on Kitty's shoulder. It wasn't the first time she'd seen her boss drift away, shrouded in melancholy. "Kitty, are you all right?"

"Yes, of course."

"For a second I thought you'd left us."

"Where would I go?" She smiled and stood. "Let's get to work, we'll be opening for dinner soon."

Matt

Matt Dillon strode into the meeting of the richest ranchers in the territory, with his marshal's mask firmly in place. He was assessing the mood of the 6 grim men sitting side-by-side, when a swatch of pink caught is eye. Vivian Carter was sitting off to the side wearing a pink blouse and dark red skirt, nervously crossing and uncrossing her legs. A long blond braid hung over one shoulder with a frayed brown ribbon tied at the bottom. He was surprised to see her, but quickly remembered that Jeb Carter had died 2 months before, leaving the ranch to his only child, Vivian

He stood in front of the room feet planted apart and drew himself up to his full height. The ranchers sat up a bit straighter.

"Gentlemen, ma'am, let's start by having you tell me why you wanted this meeting." He pointed to a mustached man who was often the ringleader.

"Ben Skully, you start."

Skully stood, handlebar moustache drooping and belly bulging over his belt. "Marshal, we see certain impediments to our prosperity and want the law to do right by us."

"Exactly what are these impediments?"

"First off there's a matter of them gypsies camping in our midst and using our water. They're thieves. No one's herd is safe."

The other men muttered in agreement.

"Are they on your property Skully?"

"That don't matter Marshal, they're up to no good. You gotta make em leave."

"What have they stolen?"

"Damn it." Clem Walker jumped to his feet, bald head turning pink with agitation. "You can't wait around for them gypsies to steal our stock and molest our women. You gotta stop them before they start."

Another man stood. "Marshall, you gotta do something now. We're tax payers, we deserve protection."

"Hold on here. Hold on." Matt raised both hands.

Skully puffed out his chest feeling support swell around him. "Marshal, we demand you do something about them gypsies."

"I said HOLD ON." Matt's voice hammered through the air. Stunned silence followed.

A silver toned voice danced through the room, "Maybe, I can shed some light on things."

All eyes turned to Vivian Carter. She slowly stood and looked around uncertainly. Matt thought she was going to sit back down, but she lifted her chin and put a hand on a slender hip. "The gyspies you are complaining about are on my property and using my well water, with my consent. They purchased 3 horses and a couple of hens from me and paid a fair price for all of them. They do not want your stock or goodness knows, your – your - anything else. They need time to repair a wagon, mend some harnesses and get a sick cow back to full strength. They are leaving on Sunday morning. I suggest you gentlemen move on to the next topic."

Clem frowned, "Vivi, you're daddy wouldn't like what you're doing one bit. He wouldn't want you having anything to do with them gypsies."

She looked directly at Clem. "My father is dead, so now it's up to me."

Matt smiled crookedly, "Thank you Vivian, I think that settles the matter. Sit down everyone and raise your hand if you have another complaint."

The men sunk into their chairs looking at each other in confusion. Skully remained standing. "Marshal, there is the matter of a couple of dirt farmers who are barely doing subsistence farming on properties that would be of value to some of us ranchers."

"Has anyone offered to buy them out?" Matt looked around and saw a couple of hands.

"They won't sell Marshal, but they're wasting the land the way they're using it, and their beat up farms look bad to anyone passing through. They don't send a message of prosperity."

"If they don't want to sell that's the end of it." Several hands shot up. Matt looked around and chose one. "Yes, Vivian."

She stood with a bit more confidence and looked around the room. "Gentlemen, if each of you would take the trouble to purchase carrots, turnips and potatoes from those farmers on a regular basis, I'm sure they'd have the money to improve their property and be able to send a message of prosperity."

Matt couldn't keep the smile off his face, "Gentlemen, I believe a solution has been offered. This meeting is over."

Matt turned and walked out. 6 grumbling men followed. A few seconds later, Vivian emerged from the building. He approached her and tipped his hat, "Ma'am."

"Matt, you've been calling me Vivi since my father moved us here 15 years ago, when I was brat of 13. Is there a reason for you to stop calling me Vivi now?"

"You were never a brat, and Vivi it is. I was sorry to hear about your father. I was out of town on business and couldn't make the funeral."

"Thank you Matt, but don't let that trouble you. You knew my father was a hard man, but I don't think you knew that when my mother died birthing me, my father's greatest grief was that she didn't give him a son. I spent my life proving I could do anything a boy could do, but I was never good enough. Mr. William Shakespeare wrote: 'It's a wise father that knows his own child.' My father was not wise." She smiled sadly, "Nice seeing you Matt. I'm making the Lucky C ranch a more hospitable place. Maybe you'll come out for dinner some time."

He nodded and she continued on her way.

TBC