As the Pullman slowly rounded the bend, the gold lettering gleamed in the midday sun. The cadence of the wheels on the steel tracks grew louder while the locomotive approached the depot with a cloud of steam billowing from the engine. The piercing whistle announced its imminent arrival, igniting the curiosity of one-half of the duo walking to the platform.

Inside the observation car, a youngster's excitement occupied him while he stared out the window just as he had for the last five miles. His woolgathering had been filled with sitting around a round table playing poker, a jaunty piano tune playing in the background, and him winning the pot with a perfect hand until the shrill whistling had brought him back to reality.

"Dodge City Kansas…elevation two thousand, four hundred eighty-five…population…nine hundred, ninety-six," the dark-haired boy read the sign. He furrowed his brow, turning his head to look over his shoulder. "What's the population of New Orleans?" he asked his clever sister.

"Nearly three hundred thousand," Vivienne answered without batting an eyelash. She gently bumped the underside of her brother's chin as his mouth fell ajar in shock. "Maman told you that it's a small town."

"But nine hundred, ninety-six?!" he screeched. "Even Baton Rouge is bigger than Dodge."

"Maman told you Dodge City is a small town," Vivienne restated, smoothing the skirt of her dress. She looked at her twin, wondering if he was as anxious as she was about being in Kansas. The girl had been looking forward to seeing where her parents had fallen in love, but her nerves had surfaced after leaving St. Louis. Vivienne decided she was being silly since her brother seemed calm and collected while he sat on the floor with Noah and Lark playing with wooden blocks.

Luc rubbed his eyes, staring at the sign a second time. To him, Baton Rouge was a small city. He didn't believe he'd ever been in a place with so few people. "Look!" he shouted, pointing to a tall, dark-haired man in a crisp white long-sleeved shirt. He narrowed his eyes, concentrating on the badge pinned on the pocket. "Is that the marshal? Dee!" he irritably moaned as her hand slapped his arm down.

"Henri Luc Galen, you don't point at folks."

Luc sighed, glancing at Delia. "Yes, Ma'am." He perked up at the sound of his daddy's heavy footsteps. "Daddy, is that man with brown hair the marshal?"

Matt grinned, setting a knee onto the cushion to glimpse out the window. "Yes, Son. His name is Newly O'Brien. Louie Pheeters is with him," he informed, grateful that his wife would be met by the bar fly that had adored her. Matt hated to admit he was surprised Pheeters was still alive, but he figured the alcoholic was too pickled for death to come close. He straightened, hearing Kitty's footsteps behind him. He turned, admiring her.

"Do I look alright?" she asked in a whisper. Kitty had changed dresses so many times until she'd finally settled on her newest frock, a tailor-made gown in the fashionable hue of the moment, pervenche. She knew she'd stick out like a sore thumb on the boardwalk, but she adored the close-fitting bodice with darts on each side over a front of jabotted lace and the one-piece skirt encrusted with darker blue guipure lace. She knew she'd be too warm wearing the cape with large sleeves and tabs overlaid with the guipure, but it was too complementary not to wear. She adjusted the matching hat on her head, impatiently waiting for Matt's critique.

Her husband was captivated by how the muted blue-violet complimented her creamy skin. He'd never understand the magic Tallulah Landry, Kitty's trusted dressmaker, could work with materials, but he appreciated how the ensemble intensified the redhead's breathtaking beauty. "Beautiful, Honey," he murmured, wanting to take her by the hand and pull her into their suite.

"Thank you, Cowboy," she smiled a smile that reached her eyes. She sidled up to him and soothingly rubbed his chest. "I know what you're thinkin', but we can't. We have to depart the train."

"While we're here, we're taking a trip to Spring Creek, Honey," Matt throatily announced, running his tongue along his bottom lip, envisioning the things he'd do to her on the creek bank. He profoundly inhaled to calm himself, regretting the deep breath as her alluring scent assaulted his senses, strengthening his need for her. He took a few steps away from Kitty to gather himself, clearing his throat after a few moments. "Broussard-Dillons, line up!"

Kitty stifled a chortle at his behavior, but couldn't deny the boost to her confidence that she could still drive him wild in middle age. She watched the five form a line from oldest to youngest, surveying her children with a pleased smile on her face. Her boys' tailored suits were still spotless and wrinkleless, and her girls were fashionably dressed as miniature versions of her. "Lark Rebecca," she eyed the pint-sized straggler fussing with the ruffled collar of her navy-blue dress.

"Maman," Lark whined, furiously pulling at the silky ribbon of the bow in the middle. "Don't like. Wanna be like Allie."

"Lark," Alexandre stepped out of his spot to stand in front of his little sister. He knelt, carefully retying the bow of her cotton dress. "I'll tell you something, but it's a secret," he whispered.

"What, Allie?"

"I know you don't like dresses and want to wear clothes like mine, but you look very pretty today," he praised with a gracious grin. "You know what Pépère says? You're as pretty as a filly in a field of buttercups. Well, you're prettier than a filly in a field of buttercups, Lark."

Her big blue eyes sparkled as she gazed at her brother. "I am?"

"You sure are, Lark. When you're as pretty as you are, you gotta act that way, too. You have to be good. I will be."

She beamed, quickly pecking him on the cheek before taking her place next to Josephine. "Maman, I prettier than a filly," she proclaimed, standing as straight and still as she could. "I be good like Allie, too."

The mother mouthed her appreciation to her eldest while setting her eyes on Lark. "I'm glad to hear that, Sweetheart. Now, we are going to get off this train with no running, pushing, or shoving," she stated in her firm, motherly tone while keeping her eyes focused on Luc. She knew his excitement may get the better of him, especially since the boy was bouncing on his toes. Kitty dipped her head in approval as Festus stood behind his nephew and placed his hands on the eight-year-old's shoulders. "I want each of you to stay close to me, Daddy, Pépère, Uncle Festus, or Delia on the way to the Dodge House. We will get checked in then go visit Sam."

Matt slipped into his single-breasted, herringbone tweed jacket. "Town will be busy since it's midday. Alexandre, you hold onto Lark's hand. Josie girl, you keep ahold of Vivi's hand. Vivi, put Cadeau on his leash," he instructed, fixing his collar before slinging his gun belt around his hips. "Luc, you don't have to hold anybody's hand, but you keep close to your uncle. I don't want the two of you wanderin' off and startin' any trouble."

Festus met his nephew's eyes as the child tilted his head back to look at him. Both incredulously stared at the giant. "Matthew, has Luc and me ever wandered off and started any trouble?" he asked, looking dejected at the accusation.

Kitty slanted her head, exchanging a look with her husband. She knew Festus couldn't help indulging her son's thirst for adventure, especially since he had the same mischievous inclination as Luc. She smiled at Doc as he strolled into the space wearing his best suit and hat. "Doc, where've you been?"

"Oh, I've been around. Truman has the baby's carriage on the platform, and we have a small welcoming committee waiting on us. Are we ready?"

"I believe so," she replied and took her baby boy from the maid, kissing his chubby cheek.

"C'mon, kids," Matt beckoned, placing his hand on the small of his wife's back. He sighed softly at the tenseness underneath his palm, but he stepped onto the platform, greeting his old friends with a smile and handshakes.

"Miss Kitty," Louie gasped. His small blue eyes widened, glancing back and forth to the infant in her arms, the wedding ring on her finger, and the kindhearted giant at her side. "About time, Marshal. Oh, 'xcuse me." He apologetically glimpsed at Newly. Louie went slack-jawed at the sight of the five other children. He inched closer to the retired marshal, lowering his voice, "You've certainly been busy."

The giant wholeheartedly laughed while clapping the smaller man on the back. "We sure have, Louie," he agreed, winking at his wife before proudly introducing their large family.

The redhead stood in front of the vernacular farmhouse. Sam Noonan's home was just as he'd described in his letters. For a good number of years, he'd rented a room at the boarding house. After a year-and-a-half of co-owning the Long Branch, he'd purchased a farmhouse on the outskirts of town. Kitty took in the humble house with pale yellow-painted clapboard and five chamfered porch posts spanning the modest façade. She smiled at his choice of flowers lining the front of the porch. He'd taken her suggestion of selecting ones that would soften the landscape but wouldn't detract from the rustic home. She drew in a calming breath, reminding herself that Dr. John Chapman had informed her that Sam was having a good day. So good that Ma Smalley had felt confident enough to leave the man's side and make a trip to the general store.

"Kitty, you want a minute or two with him?" Matt asked, peeking in on his napping son. He claimed one of the rocking chairs on the porch.

"Please," she requested, observing her children begin a game of tag in the small yard. Kitty squeezed his hand before stepping onto the porch. She lightly knocked on the front door then heard his voice summoning her inside. His voice was still deep, yet she distinguished there was a fragility to it. Kitty walked into the living room, pleasantly surprised to find him sitting by the window as she carefully plucked her hat from her head. "Afternoon, Sam," she greeted, walking to his armchair, feeling her heart swell from the delighted expression on his face. "It sure is good to see you. I've missed you so much," she murmured, kissing his cheek as he took ahold of her hands.

"I sure missed you, Miss Kitty, but I know you had to go. You wouldn't have the life you have now if you hadn't."

"Thank you," Kitty replied, swallowing her emotions.

The former bartender looked around her. "You didn't bring the children?"

"Now, Sam," she placed a hand on her hip, playfully narrowing her eyes on him. "You've been asking for me, and you don't wanna see me now that I'm here?" Kitty teased, softly chuckling at the blush of his craggy cheeks. She eased onto the settee. "They're outside with their daddy. He's gonna bring 'em in a minute or two. I hope you're ready for a lot of noise."

"I am. It'll be good to have noise in here," he assured. "I've appreciated all the photographs over the years, but I've always wanted to meet them in person. I should have come to New Orleans."

"Sam, I should have come back to Dodge before now, but I—"

"You're here now," he responded, reaching over to pat her hand. "That's what matters."

Kitty sniffled, dabbing the corners of her eyes. She gathered her composure as the door creaked open. "C'mon on in, you three," she spoke to the twins and Josephine, rising to her feet. Kitty walked onto the porch, wondering when Lark had given into a much-needed nap since she was passed out in her father's arms.

"Daddy told us to come in quietly," Alexandre stated.

Sam set his dark eyes on the tall eleven-year-old, grinning at how much the boy resembled his father. "You don't have to be quiet in here, Son."

"Don't tell my youngest sister. She'll take it as a challenge," Alexandre joked, strolling over to the barkeep he'd heard many stories about. He thrust out his hand to firmly shake the old man's hand. "I'm Alexandre, and this is," he paused, having second thoughts introducing his twin from the displeased look on her face. He took a seat in a nearby oversized armchair.

"I can introduce myself. I'm Vivienne, but you know all about us…just like we know all about you."

Sam chuckled at the interaction. He didn't believe two children could be more like their parents. "Just like your mother. You hear that all the time…don't you?"

"Yes, Sir," Vivienne softly laughed while sliding into the chair, sharing the upholstered cushion with her brother. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Noonan."

"You can call me Sam."

"Alright," Vivienne grinned. "Call me Vivi." She glanced at her brother before looking around the small, well-decorated space. She took in the mementos of the man's life but took the most interest in the books lining the shelves of the burl walnut bookcase as Josephine approached Sam's chair.

The five-year-old smiled and prudently climbed onto the chair, perching herself on the arm. "Bonjour," she whispered, slipping her little arms around Sam's neck, tenderly hugging him.

"And you're sweet Josephine," he whispered into her copper curls, rubbing her back. "Your Maman told me how good your hugs are."

"Are you feeling better?" the child timidly asked while pulling back to examine his weathered face.

Sam dipped his head. "Your hug helped."

"Bien," Josephine rested her head on his shoulder. "Maman told me you have brown eyes like me. Luc does, too. Our papa had brown eyes," she shared, pointing to her older brother as he came into the living room with the rest of her family. "That's Luc, Monsieur Sam. Daddy's holding Lark. I'm glad she's nappin'. She gets grumpy. Noah's sweet, but he pulls my hair sometimes. Daddy," she grinned at the big man as he rested his hand on her shoulder.

"Having a good visit, Josie girl?" Matt asked, extending his hand to Sam. He was glad to see Josie felt at ease with Sam to be a chatterbox. She was usually quiet around new people. "Good to see you, Sam. You might have to pour me a drink for old time's sake," he joked, motioning for Luc. "C'mere, Son. If you want to hear honest stories, Mr. Sam can tell you plenty."

"After he meets Noah," Kitty interjected over Luc's begging to hear a story. She lifted the infant from the wicker stroller and walked to the chair, carefully placing Noah into Sam's waiting arms. "He's seven-months-old today."

"Well," Sam murmured in amazement, letting the robust boy stand on his thighs. Sam securely held Noah while staring at him. He couldn't decide if Noah looked more like his mother or father. The boy seemed to be a perfect blend of the couple. A heartfelt smile crept onto his face as Noah blew a raspberry and stuck his hand out, placing his hand against Sam's cheek. "Aren't you something?" he spoke faintly, kissing the baby's forehead. "I'm sorry, Son. What were you asking me?" the old man returned his attention to the eight-year-old.

"I was asking if you'd tell us a story," Luc said. "S'il vous plaît," he politely added after his mother bumped him with her foot.

Sam carefully leaned forward to meet Luc's pleading eyes. "If I'm gonna tell stories, we'll need to cut into that pound cake and have ice cream."

The big man pushed the brown wicker stroller on the boardwalk. His wife's arm was looped through his as he listened to his children's chatter. He'd relished seeing his sons and daughters sitting around Sam's chair, raptly listening to the old man's every word while shoving spoonfuls of ice cream and cake into their mouths. The redhead's audible, contented sigh brought a diminutive smile to his lips. Matt hoped the visit had helped her heart. His smile disappeared as he noticed a group of men and women gawking. He should have known the gossipmongers would gather like vultures. Matt met the freight agent's eyes, disapprovingly shaking his head before entering the Dodge House.

Nathan Burke gulped, quickly averting his gaze from the retired U.S. Marshal's family. He shut his mouth, deciding he wouldn't make any more speculations about the former saloon proprietress and her children. He distanced himself from the group but stayed in earshot of the judgmental whispers.

"I heard she married rich," a pot-bellied man stated. "It's true. They came in on a Pullman." He'd walked to the train depot to see the behemoth with his own eyes. "Howie said she put a stack of bills on the counter for a mutt to stay in the hotel."

"A poodle," Burke corrected. He'd recognized the breed on the leather leash since a customer had paid handsomely for a pair of white poodles to be delivered to Colorado.

A brunette woman scoffed, bitterly remarking, "Looks like her years of whoring paid off. Matt Dillon was a fool to take her back after the way she left him. He gave up his badge to raise all those children that aren't his. I feel sorry for him," she finished, profoundly smiling as the assembly readily agreed with her.

As he heard the cruel talk, the hillman stiffened his spine and pursed his lips, knocking into Burke's shoulder as he heatedly jangled to the group. He gripped the brunette's arms, spinning her to face him. "I ain't never hit a woman, but you need t' be socked in the jaw, Cora Burton. Matthew ain't no fool, and Miss Kitty ain't a whore," he rumbled, intensely glaring at the mixed company. "Why don't ya go back home to yer raunchy husband?" Festus hid the smile on his whiskered face as she angrily stomped off. He quickly faced the remaining townsfolk. "If ya keep a-standin' here jawin' 'bout my family, I'll get on all of you like ugly on a ape, an' I mean it. Go on now!" he hollered, waving his arms to break up the crowd. He hooked his thumbs into the lapels of his vest, muttering under his breath. Some things about Dodge City would never change.