AN: In the past readers have wanted to know the length a story. This one is 12 chapters. On with the show.

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Kitty leaned over the edge of the sparkling lake, dipped her hand into the water and retrieved a green tinted bottle. "You were right, Matt. The air is warm, but the lake's still cool enough to chill champagne." She gleefully held the bottle out to pop the cork. "I'm so glad we had time to have this picnic before you set out tomorrow morning. You'll be gone for 5 or 6 days?" She handed him a glassful of sparkling bubbly.

"Yep, I figure about 6. The new sheriff in Cimarron wrote and requested a visit. Sounds like a good man, but he's new at wearing a badge. Says he needs some guidance, so I'll help him as best I can." Matt took a small sip from his glass, and stared out over the glittering lake. Kitty watched his strong, handsome face with a small but knowing smile. "You're still thinking about that letter from Washington DC." Her voice was soft but matter-of-fact. "Matt, no one's asking you to resign, or even suggesting that you do. It's just a notification that you've been a US Marshal for 20 years, and you'll get a pension when you do decide to take off that badge."

He continued to stare across the lake. Kitty saw he was trying to gather his thoughts, and waited. Minutes passed, he turned and looked at her. "Kitty, remember the talk we had last year, after you turned down Will Stambridge, and he left town?" He waited for her nod. "You told me that being with Stambridge, made you aware of the passage of time. You'd been going along without noticing the days, months and years that went by. Conversations with him, made you look at the years that were behind you and think about what that meant. Kitty, that's what that letter did to me. Right after I read it, I had to head out to Joe Mason's place in the damp and rainy weather. I hadn't ridden half a mile when my back began to throb and cramp. When I got back to town, the limp in my shot-up leg was so bad, I was sure everyone was staring, even though I knew no one was." He swallowed more champagne. "Kitty, I've been a lawman since I lied about my age to get a deputy's badge pinned on my shirt. I don't want to sound all highfalutin, but it's been a kind of calling – keeping the peace, making folks safe, seeing that justice is served. There were times I hated the job, you know that. But I always remembered Chester, all those years ago, saying something like – the job's got to be done, most men ain't good enough to do it, but you are. Maybe that's too bad for you, but there's nothing you can do about it. Kitty, you were there, I'm sure you remember."

Matt fell silent again. Kitty knew he'd continue as soon as he was ready. He drained the champagne from his glass "That letter made me really think about my 20 years as marshal. Kitty, it's true, not many men can do this job the way is should be done. That never meant I was the only one. And now I have to face the fact, I'm not the best man to be doing it. If my back cramps, or this leg gives out at a crucial moment, I'll fail the folks I should be serving, and I know that day gets closer all the time. So, it's my duty to pass the torch before I fail my oath." He looked Kitty in the eye. "I'm wiring my resignation to Washington tomorrow morning. I'll give them 2 months notice."

"Oh Matt." She reached over and took his hand, knowing how much this decision cost him. "What will you do? You're not a man who can just sit around. Besides, I know you have a pension, but it's not a lot."

He shrugged. "I figure ranching. Get a piece of land not too far from a water source, build from the ground up." He leaned closer to Kitty. "But that's not what's most on my mind." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small, black box. "I know we never talked in detail, but we always said things would change with us, when I took off the badge. Kitty, I'd be honored if you married me."

Kitty's eyes widened with surprise. She smiled and opened the box. A delicate gold band, lay on a bed of satin, the word "Love" inscribed inside. Matt smiled. "My father left it to me. It was my grandmother's wedding ring. My great-grandfather made it for her, when she was getting married. I was told he was a master jeweler."

Kitty ran her finger back and forth across the top of the ring. "Oh, Matt, it's so beautiful. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

A slight frown crossed his face. "I think I hear a but, in the way you're saying that."

"No, no not a but, it's just…" She bit her lower lip and looked out over the water, trying to choose the right words. A wry smile touched her lips. "Matt sometimes I think men believe women are born knowing how to do certain things. They are not, no more than a man's born knowing how to shoe a horse. You're talking about starting a ranch from the bottom up, out in the country side, as if it's a natural for me to play my part – my role. Matt, I've never killed a chicken to cook for dinner, churned butter, butchered an animal with a plan for all the parts so nothing's wasted. I've never made soap, sewn warm blankets, put up preserves, or salted meat to get through a long, cold winter. It takes those skill and more, to live the life you're thinking of. Bess Ronniger has those skills in spades. She learned them from her mother, and honed them with hours and hours of very hard work. I've never developed those skills, and frankly I don't care to. I'm good at other things – running a business, making it flourish, working with folks from different places and backgrounds. And I like being where there are shops, businesses, restaurants, new people coming through. That's where I thrive. I…."

"Kitty." He took her hand. "Ranching somewhere off in the country side was just an idea. It was nothing I thought through."

"I know. It's just that I'm afraid that the things that draw you, and the things that draw me, will pull us in different directions."

"So, you're turning me down. You don't want to marry me?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying. I love you Matt, and I do want to spend my life with you. But we both have to be happy, so that our love stays strong and good. Matt, I'm honored to accept this ring, but I want us to move forward with care. While you're away in Cimarron, let's both think about the kind of life we can build together. When you get back, we'll talk and plan."

Just Outside Cimarron Kansas

The aged physician pulled the tips of the stethoscope from his ears, and looked down at the gaunt, grey-haired man stretched out on the bed. He'd tended the dying hundreds of times, but it never got any easier. This man, right here, had worst case of pneumonia he'd seem in 40 years. There was no coming back from a illness like this, and it was a real shame. The man got out of prison, not too long ago, but before he got to know the sons he wasn't here to raise, this illness struck. The doctor looked the at three young man, standing around the bed in solemn silence. "I'll be outside." He hurried from the room. The three sons got the message. The wasn't much time.

"Sons." The ash-faced man's voice was a painful rasp. "Come closer." The three men, all in their 20's, leaned in. "You boys grew up poor. Your ma died struggling to raise you alone. My life was ruined and wasted. I was snatched from you and your ma, when I got sent to prison – 25 years hard labor. One man is responsible for destroying this family. He brought suffering down on us all. A deputy who chased me down, arrested me, and testified agin' me in court. That man became a US Marshal, Matthew Dillon. Sons, promise me you'll kill him so I can die a happy man." Gasping for air, the man's runny eyes rested on each son.

"Yes pa." "We'd do it pa." "Sure thing, pa."

John Grant died with a smile on his face.

TBC