As the still-lovely, forty-some-year-old woman stood at the foot of the bed, hands on hips, her glare slowly melted into a smile. The object of her attention was a still-handsome, forty-five-some-year-old man sprawled on his back atop her brass bed, smiling in his sleep.

When Matt's exhaustion had caused him to fall deeply asleep in the few minutes Kitty had spent checking on the loud noises down in the saloon, she had dropped a large, porcelain serving bowl on the floor at the foot of the bed, but he had not stirred. Storming out of the room, she had slammed the door, gone down the stairs, and out into the night to walk off her disappointment, frustration, and anger. "That man has all of the romantic feelings of Festus' mule! Maybe less!" she muttered.

Fifteen minutes later, Kitty had returned to the Long Branch, much to vigilant barkeep Sam's relief, who had anxiously watched for her over the tops of the bat wing doors. When she turned around to walk back, he had ducked back inside, hurried behind the bar, and began to polish already clean beer mugs with a small towel.

"Sam. I know you've been worried. I'm sorry. I just had to walk off something," she said with a wan smile, patting her friend's arm. Looking up towards her room, the slight smile slid from her face and a mixture of hurt, anger, and sadness swirled across it. She felt Sam's big, warm hand gently and momentarily squeeze her right shoulder before he cleared his throat and resumed the polishing of the beer mugs.

With each step up the stairs to her room, the indignant anger got stronger and stronger. "Who does he think he is to take me so much for granted?!" she huffed to herself. But she couldn't deny the niggling doubts that had appearance and manner no longer excited the big man, who irritatingly retained his masculine allure.

Now as she glared down at him, the sight of his handsome, weathered face with the peaceful smile became irresistible. With half-closed eyes, her thoughts went back almost twenty years, and the sleeping middle-aged man became a lean, smooth-faced young man. "I'll never forget that early morning after our first night together. I got up for a drink of water, and when I turned back, the glow of the full moon through the window made you look like an Adonis to me."

The slender young woman had paused with the glass halfway to her mouth, her thirst forgotten, and wonderingly studied the naked sleeping man from head to toe. "When he's asleep, he looks like a young boy! I want to run my hands through those mussy curls, and follow that jawline with my finger." Instead, Kitty had sat down on the side of the bed and gently run her fingers over the few, healed bullet scars on the broad, muscled chest and left shoulder and arm. Glancing over at his face, she saw that his clear blue eyes were open, watching her intently.

"Oh, Matt! I…I didn't mean to wake you, but when…"

He had quickly wrapped his long right arm around her and pulled her down into a deep kiss, and his right leg had swung possessively over her.

With a fond smile, forty-some-year-old Kitty's eyes cleared and boyish Matt was now almost twenty years older. But still manly, handsome, and irresistible to her. "But am I still irresistible to HIM?" she pondered, wondering if her age was catching up and putting him off. "Sure! I weigh more than I did twenty years ago, but so does he, and so does just about everyone else!" Smoothing the orange and white dress over her hips with one hand down either side, she glanced over at her reflection in the mirror by the door, proudly straightening up and admiring her statuesque profile.

Matt mumbled in his sleep and rolled over onto his left side, his right arm stretched out, his hand searching for her for a moment. Watching him, Kitty resisted the urge to stroke his face, and tilting her chin up, resumed her stern, offended face. But seeing him lying there like a defenseless boy, thoughts of anxiously watching over him before, during, and after Doc had "plucked" another bullet from him tore through her, making her heart ache.

"How many times? How many times have I seen him hurt? Sometimes grievously." Matt lying there, so vulnerable and quiet, brought back the tamped-down memory of when he had been shot in the back, and been unable to move his legs until Doc had operated. Although neither had ever talked about it except by their eyes and touches, Kitty knew that this big, strong man's independent spirit could not have survived being permanently dependent on others. She knew of some men and women who were quite able to fully live in a wheelchair, but Matt could not have tolerated Kitty spending the rest of her life taking care of him. He could not have survived not being a strong, virile, take-charge, up-right, MAN. A tear rolled down her cheek as deep gratitude to God for guiding Doc's hands overwhelmed her, washing away her anger. Reaching down, she gently lifted one of the red-brown curls behind his ear, rubbed it between her fingers, and let it fall back among the rest.

"Yes, I'll take him any way I can, even with the frequent frustrations and disappointments. I know Matt does his best to balance the needs of his job with my needs and desires." Straightening up, she reached behind her with both hands and undid the small hooks and buttons of her high-collared dress. Kicking off her orange satin slipper shoes, she stood in front of her full length mirror as she undid her corset, stepped out of her panties, and then studied her naked body in the reflection. Squinting a little, she tried to see herself objectively, and was more pleased than not. "My skin is good except for those freckles, but Matt has told me how delighted he was the very first time he saw that they were-everywhere!" She let out a full laugh, then quickly glanced back at the big man on the bed, but he never stirred.

"Well, I'm certainly not going to wait for him to wake up!" she said with a small snort, taking her sleeveless, thin pink satin nightgown from her closet, lifting her arms and letting it flow down over her. "Hmmph! With him on top of the covers, I sure need to wear something!" she muttered, thinking how she usually ended up naked in bed with Matt, snuggling against his warm, surrounding body.

After finishing up in her bathing room, Kitty walked over to the bed and stood there, hands on hips, studying how the soundly sleeping, now spread-eagle man filled the entire bed. Sitting on the edge, she pulled off her slippers, lined them up, and swung her legs onto the bed, lying down while firmly shoving on Matt's side, moving him over just enough to lie on her left side against him in a spooning position. His heavy right arm seemed to automatically drape over her torso as he then slightly turned towards her.

Three hours later, the full moon was at its zenith, bathing the man and woman on the bed in a buttery glow, and the scent of the large old lilac bushes down the street wafted in. Kitty slowly opened her eyes, Matt's now naked body warm against her, his right hand on her breast, right leg over hers. When she moved a little, the big right hand slid down to her waist, pulling her snugly up against him.

"Hmmm…I see…I feel…that you're finally awake," she said with a smile in her voice.

"I'm sorry about earlier, Kitty. Your wonderful meal and brandy hit the spot too well after my long ride, crazy day, and lack of sleep," his low voice rumbled warmly in her right ear. "But I'm fully awake now!" he whispered, pulling her even more tightly against him.

With a small puff of laughter, she lifted his muscled right arm, turned around, and pressed herself to his chest.

"Prove it, Cowboy! Prove it!"

End.