AN: This is one idea of where Kitty was for season 20. 9 chapters, and as usual with my stories, I'll post a chapter a day. All ideas, thoughts or comments are welcome. On with the show.

The train to New Orleans chugged to the top of a hill and picked up speed as it headed down. Matt shifted uneasily in his seat and pushed back the damp strand of hair that was clinging to his forehead. His fever was climbing again. He stretched out his long legs as best he could, and leaned back in his seat to try to relax. The train was more comfortable than a stagecoach would have been, but neither was well suited for a man of his size and leg length, especially one who was achy and feverish. He glanced out the window and saw the scenery grow lush as the miles went by. It was time to take another one of those pills Doc insisted he carry. Truth was, the small black tablets did ease the lingering effects of the bout of pneumonia that had kept him in bed way too long for his liking. He pulled a small packet from his back pocket, removed a pill, and slid it between his lips. The fever and aches would soon subside. Too bad there wasn't a pill for the pain that gripped his heart 9 months ago, and grew worse every day. No matter how many times he looked back, he couldn't make sense of what happened. When he left for that trial in Topeka, Kitty's behavior was normal. He was sure of that much. As usual, he wired her updates, but she never replied; that part was strange. So after the guilty verdict was announced, he got right on a stage to Dodge. When they pulled in, he let Festus grab his bag so he could hurry to the Long Branch to see Kitty. He pushed through the bat wing doors and everything felt wrong – the air, the atmosphere, the essence of the place. A dark haired woman with a pleasant face hurried over, as if she'd been watching for him. "Hello, you're Marshal Matt Dillon. I'm Hannah the new owner of the Long Branch." She saw the shock on his face and spoke rapidly. "Kitty left a note for you with Doctor Adams. When you…" He was out the door before she finished, his mind darting in a thousand directions. He strode down Front Street trying to look natural. Folks waved to him and called out greetings, and his heart froze. There was something in their eyes – they knew something that he didn't.

The door to Doc's office opened before he knocked. The old man had been watching from his window. He looked shaken, he'd aged unnaturally in the two weeks Matt was gone. His voice was flat. "Come in. Hannah must have sent you. Kitty asked me to give you this note. She didn't say what was in it That's all I know except she's gone."

Matt tore the envelope open and unfolded a single sheet of paper imbued with Kitty's perfume. Dear Matt, I was wrong to think we could go on the way we have been. I'm sorry, I realize that I have to have a different life. Love, Kitty.

He read the words 5 or 6 times and shoved the note into his pocket. "This is it, Doc? You must know more. You have to. Where is she?"

Doc shook his head with a heavy sigh. "No Matt, I don't know anything. Believe me, I've gone over and over each and every day of the past two weeks. I keep thinking I must have missed something, some sign from Kitty, some signal that something was troubling her. I come up empty. Maybe she was quieter than usual but I can't even be sure of that. All I know is that a few days ago she came up here, handed me this note, kissed my cheek and left. I went to the Long Branch, and Hannah was there introducing herself as the new owner."

The train took a sharp turn. Matt gripped the arm of his seat, and closed his eyes. After Kitty left, the hours, days and weeks dragged on. At first, he woke up every morning with hope there'd be letter, a wire, some word from her. That hope slowly faded like a bright shirt gone grey. Meanwhile Dodge City and Kansas were busier than ever, and the demands on him were constant. Through it all he searched for her every way he could. He questioned poor Hannah over and over, sent telegrams, wrote letters, interrogated stage coach drivers, train engineers and every one who came to town. Where ever he traveled he checked hotels and boarding houses. For the first time in his life, he called on lawmen and anyone else who thought they owed him favors. A lot of eyes were out there seeking a red-haired woman named Kitty Russell, but she seemed to have vanished into thin air. In the midst of it all he starting coughing, his chest grew tight and his fever spiked. Riding home from delivering a prisoner, he almost fell off his horse, and had to admit it was time to see Doc The verdict was pneumonia. A bad case. Even from bed he pressed on with the search as best he could. Nothing turned up until a few days ago. He'd been out of his sick bed for 24 hours when a lawyer showed up in his office.

"Matt, Matt Dillon you probably don't remember me. Name's James Richardson. I got myself in a mess about 10 years ago traveling in these parts. I was a city dude who thought it would be fun to dress like cowboy and ride west for adventure."

"Of course I remember." Matt couldn't help but smile. "When I found you, you were – let's say – stripped down. It took us a couple of days to get back to Dodge, and we talked quite a bit. You said you were thinking of becoming a lawyer. Did you do it?"

"Yes." Richardson nodded proudly, "And I heard you were looking for Kitty Russell. I remember her from my time here. It was obvious even back then that you two were – close. Anyway, I wanted to pay you back for saving my life, and did some digging in my home state of Louisiana." Richardson paused, "I'm not sure you want to hear what I found."

Matt felt the color drain from his face. "Is she alive?"

"She's alive, Marshal. Do you want to hear the rest?"

"Yep, whatever it is." Matt steeled himself.

Richardson set his valise on the table, opened it and removed a sheet of paper. He cleared his throat. "Kitty Russell is now Kitty Monroe, Mrs. George Monroe. The Monroe residence is in New Orleans at 220 Oak Street. Mrs. Monroe is part owner of a popular cafe and bar called Cafe Du Monde." Richardson looked up from his notes. "Please understand that this is a preliminary report that I pulled together quickly from various county records. I did not do a deep dig, nor did I have Mrs. Monroe followed. I have no knowledge of Mr. Monroe's finances or profession. Frankly, further enquiries, on my part, would have incurred some expenses. So, I concluded that if you wanted more information after learning this much, you'd take it from here."

The train raced on and Matt reached into his duffle bag for a canteen. The pill he'd swallowed was bitter, and he needed to wash the taste away. Looking back, he didn't recall saying goodbye to Richardson, but he remembered his heart pounding against his ribs as he paced his office trying to decide what to do. Kitty was married. Did she know this George Monroe before she left Dodge, or did she meet him later? She wanted marriage, he knew that, but she said she'd wait until he took off his badge. Now she was Mrs. George Monroe. As he paced back and forth, all reason told him to let it be and try, somehow, to move on. If Kitty wanted contact with him, she would have written or wired. Unsettled in heart and mind, he found himself in Doc's office talking it through. Doc started to pour him a cup of coffee, but changed his mind and handed him a shot of whiskey. "Matt, in my opinion you should go and see her. Don't send a letter or a wire, go and see her face to face. She's a married woman now, and you have to accept that, but if you don't understand why she left you, you'll never be able to move on. In fact, it seems quite likely to me, that a talk would be good for her too. A relationship as long and – well – as intense, as the one you two had, should have real goodbye, with a chance to wish each other well." Doc ran a hand across his mustache, "But Matt, you have to wait at least a couple of weeks. You've made a good recovery from pneumonia, all things considered, but your lungs are still vulnerable and you need rest."

"Doc, if I don't go now, I won't go at all. I'll convince myself that dropping it is for the best – maybe it is, but if I want to see Kitty one last time, it's now or never."

NEXT STOP – FINAL DESTINATION – NEW ORLEANS

Matt grabbed his duffle back and moved to the exit.

TBC