Chapter 7

Still Another Memory

Matt stood outside the bedroom door of his youngest child. A faint tremor of fear rippled through his body at the very thought that she could have belonged to someone else. Someone like Brontë Chandler for instance. There had been many male admirers of the redheaded beauty over the years but the only time he had ever come close to losing Kitty was when the dashing young soldier came charging into their lives.

Hadley squirmed underneath the covers until one bare foot found freedom and pushed poor Bootsie to the floor. Matt quietly stepped into the room, knelt down and rescued the bear. He tucked the tiny foot back under the blanket and gently eased Bootsie back into the arms of its owner. A sleepy yawn, forced a pair of baby blues open long enough to catch a glimpse of the big man kneeling beside her bed.

Snuggling closer to her furry playmate, she managed to whisper three little words before drifting back to sleep. "Love you daddy."

Matt felt like his heart would surely burst through his chest. He suddenly felt as if he had narrowly escaped a fate worse than death by wasting so many years. Rising slowly to his feet, he turned to find Kitty standing in the doorway.

"Come on." She held out her hand and quietly led him back to their bedroom. Matt shrugged off his vest, stood still for a moment and then dropped down on the side of the bed as if that simple task had exhausted him.

Kitty knelt down in front of the woebegone man. "Matt, those years are gone. Stop beating yourself up."

Dark brows dipped together in the center of his forehead. His scowl reeked of confusion. "How did you know?"

Rising up quickly, she silenced him with a kiss. "Matt Dillon, do you think after all these years I don't know exactly what you're thinking?" She stroked his cheek with the palm of her hand. "Were those years so terrible?"

A smile worked its way through the miserable façade. "No, they weren't bad but what if I hadn't finally-"

"But you did." This time it was a pair of perfectly manicured fingers placed to his lips that interrupted him. Kitty tried to lighten his mood a step higher with a sassy smile. "Maybe Brontë just made you realize what a wonderful wife you have."

"Yeah and I plan on keeping her!" Matt's tone matched his sulking expression.

"What does that mean?" Kitty's smile was short lived when she realized he was serious. "Brontë Chandler came here because he was sent to get the new peace treaty signed. He did not come here to reclaim me."

"Maybe that's not why he came but now he's seen you and …" The big tough cowboy assumed a pouting scowl. "Well, let's just say he likes what he sees!"

Kitty let go a sigh and shook her head in disbelief. "I understand your regrets at not starting a family sooner but your jealousy toward Brontë is completely unwarranted."

"He wanted to marry you."

For a moment, Kitty debated whether to argue the point but they both knew it was true. She stood up and took a step back. "That was a long time ago." She conceded.

She motioned for him to get up so that she could turn down the covers. "Kitty that man is still in love with you. I see the way he looks at you."

"Well then we'd better have Doc or Calleigh check out your eyes." She gave him a slight nudge to keep him moving. "You're imagining things."

"Am I imagining the fact that he saved your life – TWICE!" Matt couldn't decide if he was angry or jealous. Either way, he definitely had a giant helping of guilt on the side.

"And just how many times have you saved me, Marshal?" Kitty stopped long enough to plant a kiss on the sour face. "Brontë Chandler just brought back a lot of old memories. And regrets." She added softly

"He's very handsome, isn't he?" Self pity was a little late in coming to the party but it arrived full force. "Of course his body probably isn't covered in scars and bullet holes."

Kitty stopped folding the covering and dropped it in the chair. Her big cowboy was feeling insecure. She slipped out of her robe and tossed it across the end of the bed. "Matt." A gentle hand placed on his forearm, persuaded him to turn around.

"Come to bed." That same hand slipped down to fondle his very private parts. "I think this old body still has some life in it."

===()()()===

Matt eased himself a little more onto his side, pulled his wife closer and brushed his lips across her temple. There was no greater satisfaction than to hold her in his arms after making love to her. But tonight, he held her tight for other reasons. Another old memory was trying to worm its way back into his life. One that Kitty knew nothing about.

A few days after Kitty had returned home, the gallant lieutenant made yet another magnanimous gesture. He had presented the woman that held both of their hearts a diamond necklace to replace the one that had been crushed by the wagon wheel.

Matt's fingers tenderly stroked the back of the sleeping woman. The expensive piece of jewelry made the locket look like nothing more than a cheap trinket. As it turned out, it was more of a farewell gift than a replacement. Brontë was leaving Dodge and wanted to give Kitty something to remember him by.

A few weeks after the competition left town, Kitty had come by the office wearing the necklace. The delicate chain got caught up in Matt's sleeve when he went to kiss her and broke the clasp. Despite its giver he did feel bad and promised to have it repaired. Before he had a chance, Chester had come running into the office announcing a possible gunfight down on Front Street. Matt shoved the necklace into his desk drawer for safe keeping.

And there it stayed.

For fifteen years.

At first, he actually forgot but each time he opened the drawer, he would put off the chore until the next day until little by little it was pushed clear to the back of the drawer, out of sight out of mind. Until now.

Why had she never asked about it? Did it remind her too much of Brontë? Was she sorry that she turned down his marriage proposal? Matt knew that somehow, he was going to have to bring those diamonds out of hiding.