AN: Thank you for reading and leaving comments. Guests who comment, I would answer each of you personally if I could. I do plan to continue to publish a chapter a day until the story is complete. On with the show.

Matt was stunned by Kitty's furious entrance into Delmonico's. Stunned in a way he'd been few times in his life. He'd noticed the citizens of Dodge watching when he was with Missy, but figured it was nothing more than idle curiosity. Couldn't a man spend time with woman without conclusions being drawn?

The look on Kitty's face filled him with panic, "I – I – Kitty - it's not what – I don't know what – it's not – it's just – it's…."

His voice petered out.

Missy glanced at Matt with a kind, but slightly amused smile before addressing Kitty, "You asked me to start so I will."

Kitty sat rigidly in her chair and nodded sharply, "Go on."

"I knew Matt many years ago. He and his parents were my next-door neighbors when I was very young. My earliest memories are from when I was about 3, and they are of Matt. He was my favorite 'big' person. I guess like a lot of young children, I didn't realize that a 10 year old wasn't exactly the same as an adult. Matt was a wonder in my life. He never got tired of answering my questions. He taught me how to climb trees, dig for worms and so many other things. When I told him that monsters lived under my bed and I was scared they'd come out at night, he didn't laugh at me they way other grown-ups did. Instead he gave me a magic stone to keep those monsters away.

She looked at Matt with a grin and pulled a white stone out of her skirt pocket. Its whiteness glistened in the air.

Matt chuckled. "I don't believe you still have that."

"It kept monsters away and out of my dreams, so when I outgrew believing in monsters, I started carrying it as a good luck charm. I always keep it with me."

Kitty absorbed what was being said, and observed the way Missy and Matt interacted.

Missy returned her focus to Kitty. "I think I was almost 4 and Matt was maybe 11 when he heard his pa was killed. I found him crying in my family's shed. It was scary and it made my heart hurt. It made my heart hurt in a way I'd never felt before, and have only a few times since. I went to him and put my arms around his neck. He held me tight and we cried together. If you'd asked me then, at that young age, why I was crying, I wouldn't have had the words to explain."

Matt whispered, "After that, you were the light in my life. Every day was a struggle filled sadness and worry. Your sweetness and laughter, even your silliness, gave me a reason to smile. You gave me hope that happiness was possible."

"Then maybe a year and half later your ma died. I was in your house when the doctor told you she'd passed. You made a sound. It was quiet and short, but it was the sound of pure grief. I will never forget that sound. It is seared into my soul. Soon after that you were sent off to live on some ranch. You gave me a hug before you left. I cried. You brushed my tears away with a thumb and asked me to give you a smile before you left. I plastered on the biggest smile I could manage."

Missy looked at Kitty, "The last time I saw Matt I was I guess about 5 and he was maybe 12. I never forgot him, but in the last few years I started hearing about him. So when I knew I'd be passing through Dodge to join my husband in Chicago, I decided to stop here and find out how he was. I mean how he really was. I needed to see what kind of person he'd become after suffering so much as a boy. I wanted to find out the things that aren't part of his reputation as a formidable lawman with a fast gun."

"Husband?" Kitty looked up.

"Yes, I've told Matt a lot about my husband, Kirk, and Matt's told me quite a lot about you."

"Kitty, Missy is a writer and her husband is a newspaper man."

"Matt, Kitty doesn't want to hear about me."

"Please tell." Kitty leaned forward, truly interested in this woman who'd been an important part of Matt's younger self.

Missy shrugged but spoke eagerly, "I always liked to write so I started submitting items to newspapers. I was absolutely sure that I could write pieces that were not only as good, but better than many that were being published. Nothing was accepted, even pieces that I knew were of a really high quality. For a time I didn't want to believe it was because I was a woman, but to test out that idea I started submitting pieces under the name Matt Coleman. The very first one I sent out was accepted, as was just about every one after that. The Denver Chronicle used so many of my pieces that the editor, Kirk Johnson, wrote saying he wanted to meet me. I avoided it for as long as I could, but he was insistent. I'll never forget the shock on his face when he saw that I was a woman, but his first words after hello were, 'Staff writers at my newspapers write under there own names. If you accept a job at the Chronicle, I expect you to do the same.' That's when I went back to writing under the name Margarita Coleman."

Kitty smiled, "And he became your husband."

"Yes, a year later and even though I'm Mrs. Johnson I still write under the name Margarita Coleman. Anyway, recently we felt we needed a change so we bought the Chicago Tribune. Kirk always dreamed of owning a newspaper. He went out there to set things up and I'm on my way to join him.

She leaned forward and put her hand on Kitty's, "Matt and I have a bond that is special because of our past. We spent hours catching up on where our lives have taken us and who the people are who make our lives matter. That's why I feel I know you al…"

The sound of gunshots rang out. Kitty and Missy looked up. Matt bolted from the table.

TBC