Meade

Matt's long, strong fingers curled around the shovel in an ever tightening grip as he followed Owen Kramer up the hill to Kitty's grave. Every few steps Owen glanced back over his shoulder, "Marshal, please – please don't do it. Disturbing a grave – it's not right – it's – it's sacrilege. It could bring bad luck to my house and family. I've had enough bad luck. Please, there's no need, it won't bring Kitty back. Stay here as long as you want. Pay your respects. But don't disturb the grave, I beg you."

Matt didn't utter a sound. His face was stone, but his heart was pounding so hard he could barely breath. What if he was wrong. What if he dug up Kitty's decomposing body. How could he live with that - doing that - seeing that. His jaw clenched. No, Kitty wasn't dead. He wasn't wrong.

Owen's protests continued until they reached the top of the hill. Matt spotted a mound of earth marked with carefully crafted, wooden cross. The words were clearly carved – Kitty Russell. Rest In Peace. Matt felt his knees buckle, but quickly pulled himself together. He tugged the cross from the grave and laid it the ground. Owen Kramer grew paler as he watched. Matt used his foot to jam the shovel head into the earth. He hesitated, but just for an instant and tossed a pile of dirt aside. He repeated the motion again and again until he hit something solid – a wooden box. "Kramer, come help me lift the coffin out." Kramer shook his head. "No – no – no. Don't do it. No good will come of this. Please."

Seeing the man would be of no use, Matt got on his knees and muscled the coffin to an upright angle so he could pull it out of the hole. With a hand on each side of the unwieldy box,he pulled it up inch by inch until it sat on the ground beside him. Sweat poured down his cheeks, he bent over the coffin, lifted the latch and, in one swift move, threw back the lid. The stench was overwhelming. He jumped back. His hands flew to his face to cover his nose and mouth. He forced his leaden feet to step closer to the coffin. Gagging, he bent over and looked inside. It wasn't Kitty. It wasn't even human. A dead cougar was in the coffin. Relief washed over him. He slammed the lid down and turned to Owen. "You and Peggy have a lot of explaining to do."

Dodge

The sudden storm that marked the close of Kitty's memorial service, ended as suddenly as it began. The sun was shining by the time Sam was in Doc's office pouring three glasses of fine whiskey. "Doc, I took real comfort in those words you said about Miss Kitty at the service. I felt like you were speaking for all of us." Doc picked up one glass and handed another to Festus. "Thank you Sam. I'll tell you, it did my heart good to see all the folks who turned out." A rueful smile touched his lips, "And I think Kitty would have had a good laugh knowing that the ladies' auxiliary club and the Lady Gay saloon girls were together in one place, for well over an hour, because of her. So, I propose a toast." The three men lifted their glasses. "To Kitty Russell, there's never been anyone like her, and there never will be again. She will always be remembered with a smile and much love. The men tossed back their drinks. Festus smacked his lips. "Ya surely did save the bestest bottle, Sam. That thar is the good stuff."

Sam nodded, "Yep, it's the bottle Miss Kitty always took out on New Years Eve."

Doc let out a sigh. "New Years Eve – I'll never forget those toasts. Kitty would fill our glasses just before midnight, and as soon as the clock struck 12:00, we'd toast the new year in."

Festus smiled, "Then Miss Kitty would pour us all another, right upta the brim, an' whilst we went on drinkin', she an' Matthew would sneak up them stairs to her place, sure that not a single solitary soul was noticin' them." The three men laughed at the memory, and Sam held up the bottle. "Round two?" Doc spread his hand over his glass, "Not for me. I have patients to tend to."

"Not me neither/" Festus poked a thumb at his chest. "This here deputy's badge weighs heavy when Matthew's outta town."

Sam screwed the cap back onto the bottle. "You're right. I'm wearing a deputy's badge too, and there's still a lot to do to get the Long Branch closed down proper before I turn the keys over to the land office." Sam pushed himself to his feet. "When the marshal accepts the truth and comes back, I'll break out the bottle again. The 4 of us will toast Miss Kitty."

Meade

Owen Kramer carefully closed the latch on the coffin as if he could make Marshal Dillon unsee what he had seen. He idly wondered why he thought it was good idea to put a dead animal inside the coffin, instead of just burying an empty box. Sometimes things make sense while you're doing them. He looked up at Marshal Dillon, jaw clenched and face smudged with dirt and sweat. Owen held out his hands, palms face up. A gesture of – he wasn't sure what. "I guess me and Peggy do have some explaining to do. We'd best go down to the house and talk – the three of us. There's one thing you have to understand. We would never do anything to hurt Kitty, or that wasn't for her own good. Kitty is Peggy's oldest friend, and I think the world of her too. So, set your mind to rest, no harm has come to Kitty. In fact, she is on her way to a very good place. You'll understand, and I hope you'll be happy for her."

Matt stared at Owen. Part of him wanted to tear the man's head off for lying about Kitty's death, but hurting Owen wouldn't benefit anyone. Besides, the man seemed sincere when he said no harm had come to Kitty. This was going to be one hell of an explanation. Matt nodded towards the hill. "Let's move. The sooner I hear the truth, the better."

TBC