1877:

Kitty Dillon peeked in at her sleeping two year old daughter. The little girl with the mop of reddish-brown hair slept as hard as she played.

Matt quietly came up behind Kitty and looked in over her head.

"By golly, that tiny person sure can wear me out! Wish I could bottle her energy!"

Kitty looked up, smiled, and pulled him away from the doorway.

"Little Rosie reminds me so much of you, Matt. She never gives up until she finishes whatever she has gotten involved in. She'd never go to bed if it was up to her!"

"Huh! I was going to say the same thing about YOU! Maybe little Jamie will be a mellow lad." He put his large arms around her from behind and lovingly caressed Kitty's large belly.

"I wouldn't bet on it, Cowboy! Not the way he kicks!"

They turned, arms around each other's waist, Kitty's head against his shoulder, and walked down the hall to their bedroom next door.

Lying in Matt's arms in their big brass bed, Kitty couldn't imagine being more content. All of the early hard days of her past life were forgotten. Rubbing her belly, she said her nightly prayer of thanks and that her children would have happy and easier lives.

The rambling ranch house was old and welcoming from their first day there, and Matt had worked hard to repair it and renovate it to their needs. Although now in excellent condition, the floor boards still creaked on the stairs, but Kitty thought of it as the house welcoming them each time their feet touched the wood.

Both Kitty and Matt hoped that the old house and ranch land would stay in the family forever, passing down through the years from generation to generation. Neither of them had had a stable childhood or continuity of family, but wanted it for their children and all of the children to come.

1997:

One hundred and twenty years later, young Rusty Talbot turned her bright red Mini Cooper into the long, tree-lined gravel drive leading to the old ranch house. Kitty Russell Dillon's great, great, great granddaughter Carol stood on the porch eagerly awaiting her girl. She had been listening for the crunch of car tires on gravel since hanging up the phone. Her own orange cat, Butterscotch, swirled around her legs, as if knowing that her daughter Biscuit was near.

Rusty parked near the barn, grabbed her satchel, picked up the cat carrier and walked to the porch. She opened the carrier and the two orange cats touched noses and rubbed against each other before hurrying inside as Carol held the screen door open. Carol and her daughter laughed, hugged, and followed the cats inside, following the aroma of dinner to the large kitchen.

"Mom, that sure smells good, and I sure am hungry! I'm going to dump my stuff up in my room, wash up, and I'll be right back down to help."

Knowing it was useless to argue, and actually enjoying her daughter's help with the dinner, Carol smiled and nodded as she checked the rolls in the large old cast iron stove she insisted on still using. Pretty soon Nanny would be coming in and start on making two of her famous pies.

Rusty always loved coming back to the room she had lived in since birth until moving to Hays two years ago. She had attended Dodge City Community College for her nursing degree, so had been able to live at home. Hays Medical Center had been where she had always wanted to work, and she had been hired as soon as she graduated with a 4.0 average.

Touching the marks on the doorframe that documented her height through the years, she looked in at the room, the one thing in her life that had never changed. The brass bed by the window still had Grandma Mary's quilt on it, and the antique dresser still stood against the wall papered with large pink roses. Unlike most children in their teens, Rusty had been easygoing and appreciative of her family and the comfortable old house they lived in. She had always been curious about the history of her family and home, but now the recurring dream had really peaked her interest.

After dinner, Rusty and her parents carried their apple pie and coffee out to the porch, as was their usual routine. Rusty's great grandmother had excused herself, kissed her goodnight, and gone back to her room. The old woman was still deeply grieving the recent loss of her husband of sixty-three years.

The star-filled sky looked like a dome filled with twinkling jewels as the young woman gazed up and started to speak.

"Mom, Dad, I've been having the same dream for the past seven nights now. I wouldn't call it a nightmare at all. It is more like a look into a moment in the past. I know that Grandma Mary and Nanny are into the genealogy thing, so I thought maybe they could help."

Rusty described the entire dream to her parents, who listened closely and with interest. They felt so blessed that their daughter shared so much with them. Their son, John, one year older than Rusty, was still struggling to decide what to do with his life, and was currently somewhere in Texas. He would sporadically call his parents collect.

"That is fascinating, Honey, and especially that you can recall the details so well. And the way it all makes sense. All of my dreams have me with wings, or walking through walls, or some such stuff! And it's really your great grandmother who's the genealogy expert. Your grandma has a slight interest, but she and grandpa are in Topeka at an art exhibit, so we'll ask Nanny about it tomorrow. I think it might be good for her to take her mind off of missing Pappy so much." Carol Talbot couldn't imagine life without her Robert.