The illness had come on insidiously, with a slow, steady weight loss and increase in tiredness. A dry cough appeared suddenly during his last week, and became so strong that it would leave poor Sam breathless at times. But he shrugged it off, and kept on working, claiming that he must have caught a cold. Kitty pleaded with him to see Doc, and Sam promised he would, but kept making excuses.

"Doc, please speak with Sam! I can't get him to go see you, no matter how I plead or even demand! He is so stubborn!" she huffed, as Doc tried to hide a grin behind his hand.

"Kinda like YOU, huh, Kitty? You two spend so much time together that I think you're taking on each other's personalities! And not always the best parts."

The old doctor had also been getting more and more concerned about Sam, and had tried to corner the big bartender, but Sam was always "too busy." Now Doc had his own burden of undeserved guilt.

"Kitty, I wish we had made Matt bring him up to me at gunpoint!" he had gruffly told her as they sat morosely together at their table afterwards.

"Oh Doc, you know it was already too late," she had said softly, putting her slim hand on his forearm resting on the table. The doctor had told her that he had been stunned himself by the rapidity of the apparent lung disease, and knew there would have been no cure.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It had been so sudden. The loud crash as the big man collapsed behind the bar, pulling several beer mugs down with him. Kitty had been in her office that morning, heard the noise, and looked up from the ledgers with wide, frightened eyes.

"SAM!"

Dropping her pen and shoving back her chair, she ran towards the bar. Sam was lying on his back on the floor behind the bar amidst broken glass. His dear face was as pale as his always immaculate white shirt under the gold and black brocade vest. His dark brown eyes were open and staring up in surprise.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Kitty. You…take those beer mugs…from my pay, now," he gasped out. "I must've tripped."

Kitty had quickly sat down and put his big head in her lap. As she stroked his hair, she saw how blue his lips were getting and frantically looked around for help, but the saloon women were all asleep in their upstairs rooms, and the saloon itself was empty.

"Sam, Honey, I'm going to run for Doc. I'll be back in a minute," she said in a soothing voice, belying her panic.

His hand slowly raised up and grabbed her wrist with a surprisingly strong grip.

"NO! Please. Don't…leave…me. I ain't afraid, but I want your face to be what I close my eyes on."

The effort made him cough and shut his eyes for a moment. When he reopened them, they were filled with a deep peacefulness, and he smiled up into her tear-filled eyes.

"Miss Kitty. YOU were my sun and moon," he breathed out as his eyes closed forever.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Two months later, Matt, Kitty, Doc, and Festus were sitting at their usual table in the Long Branch. It was a raucous trail herd Saturday night, and although the din made it difficult to hear conversation, Festus persisted on with his tale of a "twisty" storm he had been in once.

"I tell ya, Doc, that ol' wind sucked up Jukin Sprat's well right outta the ground! And when it hit the ground agin, it were thirty foot deeper!"

Doc pretended to listen, sighing and rubbing his mustache as he periodically looked up from his beer mug. Matt and Kitty sat close, knees touching under the table, smiling at their two old friends across from them. The Marshal kept a close eye on the reveling cowhands as Kitty thought of what a profitable night it was so far.

Seeing that Doc's mug was now empty, and Festus had just chugged down the rest of his beer during a pause in his rambling story, Kitty automatically turned towards the bar, put up her hand and called:

"SAM…er…FLOYD…can we get four more beers here, please?"

Blushing a little, the lovely woman looked down at her hands around her own half-empty beer mug as even Festus grew quiet.

"Well now! Let me tell you all about delivering Ella Brook's NINTH baby this afternoon! Poor Ezra wanted a boy so much, but even he was dazzled at how beautiful this baby girl is!" the old doctor loudly said into the awkward pause.

"Excuse me, Doc, Festus, Matt," Kitty said in a soft voice as she smiled at her friends, pushed back her chair, and gracefully walked towards the back door, then quietly slipped outside.

The three men who loved her so much watched, one with concern, one with confusion, and one with understanding.

"Doc, Matthew?! Is she all right? Mebbe I oughta go out thar with her?"

Doc shook his head and put a surprisingly gentle restraining hand on the hill man's forearm and looked over as Matt spoke:

"No, leave her be, Festus," he said in his deep voice. "She'll be fine. Kitty's just out there looking at the moon. Visiting with Sam. I'll give her a moment and then go out and sit with her."

Floyd arrived with their beers on a tray and set them down after apologizing for the delay. The three men nodded their thanks, looked at each other, and raised their full mugs with the foam spilling over the sides.

"To Sam!" said Doc.

"To Sam!" echoed Matt and Festus.

As they drank that first cool, refreshing swallow, their eyes were on the closed back door.

End.

{Glenn Strange: August 16, 1899 to September 20, 1973}