Eerie Saloon:Seasons Of Change -- Spring, Part 3 Of 13 free porn video

Eerie Salon: Seasons of Change - Spring By Ellie Dauber and Chris Leeson © 2014 Sunday, April 14, 1872 Reverend Yingling braced his hands on each side of the podium and smiled confidently at his congregation. "As you know, I will be appearing before the town council next week to demand that they vest control of that transformative potion of the _barman_ O'Toole in more trustworthy, more _moral_ hands. The church board of elders has voted to support me in this, and Horace Styron, the board president has circulated a petition on behalf of this effort." "Before we sing our final hymn and go out to enjoy this glorious day that our Lord has given us, I wanted to ask Horace how the work of that petition is proceeding." He turned and nodded to Horace, who was sitting with other board members. "Horace?" Styron stood. "Thank you, Reverend, but for a full report, you should ask Mrs. Cecelia Ritter. After her enthusiastic support of your - of _our_ cause, I asked her to take charge of the petition." He extended an arm towards the woman. "Cecelia, can you give us some idea of how it's going?" "Oh, I... I couldn't." She slowly rose to her feet. "I - oh, very well." With a determined look on her face, she walked to the front of the room. Miss Osbourne's desk had been pushed forward and covered with an alter cloth. The small speaker's podium was placed atop this. Yingling moved aside as she came around the desk and took his place. "I'm very pleased to report,"she began, "that, at last count, we have over sixty signatures. There are copies of the petition at Mr. Styron's hardware store, Mr. Cates' office, Mr. Warrick's lumberyard, Mr. Albertson's bank, and my own husband's livery. Sadly, other members of this congregation - and of the board - have not been as cooperative... particularly the --" Yingling cleared his throat. When Cecelia glanced over at him, he shook his head. She frowned but continued. "In spite of this lack of cooperation, I fully expect to have at least seventy-five signatures to present to the town council at it's meeting on the 24th - perhaps even more, if certain -" "Thank you, Cecelia." The reverend stepped forward and clapped his hands. "Thank you for that excellent report and for all your hard work." He glided back into his position behind the podium, so she had to step aside. The rest of the congregation joined in the applause. Cecelia nodded, accepting the ovation, as she returned, reluctantly, to her seat beside her husband and children. Yingling smiled at her once more. "And now, if you will all turn to page 104 in your hymnals..." * * * * * "You wanted to see me, my lady?" Wilma stood in the doorway to Cerise's office. The other woman nodded. "I did. Come in, and close the door behind you, s'il vous pla?t." "Okay." Wilma did as her employer suggested before taking a seat by the desk Cerise was working at. "What's this about?" "A mystery. Wilma, you have always been one of my most enthusiastic ladies, always ready to... perform with one of my guests." "Uh, thanks. I guess I just like men, being with them, having them touch me, kiss me... fuck me." She felt a delightful tingle of arousal run through her. "Indeed, I can see that, even now, just the thought of such things brings the pretty blush to your cheeks." Cerise frowned. "That is why I have to wonder when you refuse our three newest gentlemen." "Refuse? I don't know what you're talking about." "Please, ma petite. When I came into the parlor with Monsieur Stafford and his associates, your smile disappeared. You backed away and slumped your shoulders, trying to look less attractive. When Ethan came in, you all but attacked him. And, I suspect, your actions were more out of relief that you had another choice than out of the all too obvious desire you have for him." "I-I like Ethan. You know that." "I do, but, if it had been any other man but Stafford - or one of his friends -- you would have been upstairs with him before Ethan ever walked in. I must know why you acted this way. It is bad for business, when one of my ladies rejects our guests." "Do I... do I really have t'tell you?" "You most certainly do." Her voice was firm. "Out with it. Now!" Wilma looked surprised at the older woman's insistence. She thought for a while, her head down, not able to look at Cerise's face. Finally, with a deep sigh of regret, she began. "You know what I... what I was before I came to this town." "Ma oui, you were a man, a criminal much feared in this land." She smiled. "A manly man, by all reports, one I would have liked to... meet." Wilma grinned in spite of herself. "I think I woulda liked that, too, but there's no chance of doing anything about it now. We both like men way too much." "We do, indeed, but, please, mon amie, continue with your story." "Umm... okay. Before I was a crook, I was a soldier, a sergeant, during the War of Succession, and a good one. Stafford was my lieutenant, and he was a piss poor one. He almost got us - my whole platoon - killed or captured. I knocked him out and got us all away. And he..." She spat. "He paid me back by getting me - me and Bridget, she was my corporal then - court martialed. They could've shot us both. Instead, they threw us out o'the army. Everybody hated us, so we... we got back at them by turning outlaw." The madam nodded. "And now he comes here. Does he know who you are? " "I don't think so. Lord, I hope not! He'd be gloating about what happened to me like he done it himself." "Do you regret what happened to you?" "I... No, I don't think that I do. I liked being big, bad Will Hanks, doing what I wanted, scaring grown men into doing what I told 'em to. But I like being Wilma Hanks, too. I still do what I want, and I still got grown men doing what I want, too. I just... want _different_ things now, is all. I got a solid room over m'head, good grub, and a nice warm bed that I get _plenty_ of use of." "That is certainly true." Cerise thought for a moment, and then said, "I can easily understand why you would not wish to do such things with Monsieur Stafford." "Or his _friends_. Them two polecats backed up his lies at my trial." "Or his friends, then. I shall try to arrange that you are not _available_ to them." "You gonna tell them - or _anybody_ else -- why?" Cerise gave her a wry smile. "This is _my_ establishment, Wilma. I do not feel the need to explain myself to my employees or my guests." "Th-thanks, Cerise." Wilma smiled and her body relaxed, unclenched. "You're a true friend." Cerise chuckled. "Yes... yes, I am." * * * * * Rupe Warrick walked over to where Judge Humphreys was standing, watching people leave the church. "You think the reverend has a chance with the town council?"he asked the taller man. "Hard to say,"the Judge replied. "All three men have ties to Shamus. Arsenio's married to one of his 'girls' and Whit's the brother-in-law of another. Still, Thad Yingling's a persuasive man, and he'll have that petition - and our resolution of support..." He made a sour face. "...backing him up." "If you didn't think we should support him, why'd you vote in favor?" "Because I know better than to fight an angry mob. Cecelia Ritter got the crowd so riled up, that I didn't think I had a choice." "I abstained. Why didn't you?" "It wouldn't have done any good, and - much as I hate to say it - I'm up for reelection as Judge next year, and I'd like to keep my job. This whole matter is just the sort of tempest in a teapot that could come back to bite me in the ass." Trisha joined the men. "That doesn't sound very moral, Your Honor." "No, it doesn't,"Humphreys agreed. "To be frank, I was hoping that this whole thing would blow over." He sighed. "Now, I'm not so sure, and it worries me." He stroked his grayish goatee, as if in thought. Rupe ran his stubby fingers through his curly, black hair. "It troubles me, too. That's why I abstained." "I'd be happy to back you gents up if you want to go against Horace and the reverend,"Trisha said, "if you'll back me when I need it." The Judge cocked an eyebrow. "What do you mean?" "Next month the board - and the congregation -- is gonna be voting on kicking me off the board,"she explained. "It'd be nice to have some support. With all this nonsense about the potion, I really haven't had time to work out any sort of... strategy." She paled for a moment and looked down at her stomach. "Something wrong, Trisha?"Rupe asked. She shook her head. "Just my breakfast backing up on me, I guess." She tried to make a joke of it, not wanting the reminder that her monthlies were due soon. "Either that or it's some danged female thing." "Say no more, then." The Judge quickly changed the subject. "Why don't we... Rupe and I and, maybe, Dwight Albertson come over to your place one night this week and talk about what we're going to do on both fronts, the potion and your staying on the board?" Trisha smiled. She still felt a little queasy, but it was good to know that she had support. "That would be great. How's... Wednesday, a week before the council meeting?" Both men nodded. "Okay, I'll see you then." * * * * * Kirby Pinker heard the bell over his door ring. He looked up from his back copy of _Lippincott's_ _Magazine_. "Can I help... Miss Osbourne, good day to you." He put the periodical down on the counter and quickly ran his fingers through his thinning, brown hair. Nancy smiled. "And to you as well, Mr. Pinter." "Kirby... please. You're in here often enough looking at books." "Kirby, then." She smiled again. "And you may call me Nancy. I was wondering if the dictionary I ordered for the school had come in yet?" "I'm afraid not. I understand that there's still quite a demand for the unabridged Webster's, even now, eight years after it first came out. The Merriam Company has trouble printing copies fast enough. You might want to try back around the end of the week." She sighed. "I suppose we can use the old one that much longer. Very well, I'll come back on Thursday or Friday. Good day, then." She turned to leave. "Wait."he almost shouted the word. "Before you go, may I tempt you with... something else? I bought a few books from a miner a couple of days ago. He was short of cash -- and food, so he sold them. I know that you read to relax after a hard day's work." "Yes, I do, mostly fiction or poetry. I deal with facts all day." She was flattered that he'd remembered her reading habits from the times she'd been in his store. "What do you have?" "Most are about mining, but I have two you might be interested in, _Sonnets_ _From_ _the_ _Portuguese_ by Elizabeth Barrett Browning and Dickens' _Great_ _Expectations_. I can give you a good price on either, and a better price on the pair." He pulled the two books from under the counter where he'd stored them for when she came in. "As it happens, I own a copy of the Dickens, an _autographed_ copy as a matter of fact." "Now how did you manage to get something like that?" "He came to Hartford on a tour about four years ago. My Aunt Clementine went to one of his readings. She asked him to sign the book and sent it to me as a Christmas present." "I'd love to see it. May I come over to your home some time to look at it?" "I-I live with the Carsons. They don't appreciate my having gentleman callers." She regarded him curiously. Was it just the book he wanted to see? "Perhaps supper one evening would be better. I'm told that the restaurant in the Eerie Saloon is very good." She smiled at the thought of having dinner with a... friend. Unfortunately... "I am very sorry, Mr. P... Kirby, but my contract with the town council doesn't allow me to meet men in any sort of social situation." She frowned. 'Male teachers get one night a week to go courting,' she thought, and not for the first time, 'but women teachers - no, we have a _morals_ clause instead. It is _so_ unfair.' He considered the situation. "In that case, it's a good thing that dictionary isn't here yet. When you come back to check if it's arrived, you can bring the Dickens along." "Why, yes, yes, I can do that. And in the meantime, may I see that book of sonnets?" * * * * * Jane walked over to the place at bar where Shamus was standing. "Can I talk t'you 'bout something?" "O'course, ye can,"he replied. "Wasn't I just saying that to all ye girls just yesterday?" He pointed to the stool next to her. "Have a seat and tell me what's on yuir mind." She did as he suggested. "It's that painting of me and Laura, I'm... I'm thinking about buying it." "Why, if ye don't mind me asking? I never knew ye t'be having any great interest in such things before." "I ain't never been in a painting before. I thought it'd be... fun t'look up at the wall and see m'self looking back." "That don't sound like much of a reason." "Ain't it the reason you had _two_ pictures done, one of Jessie and one of Molly?" "Them two is different. The painting of Jessie is a... advertisement. It tells folks that she's here singing for them every night, and that they should be coming in - and buying drinks from me - so they can listen to her. As for that other picture ... well, why shouldn't a man have a picture of his wife, especially when she's as fine _and_ as beautiful a lass as me Molly?" "See, there, ya see; you want a picture of Molly 'cause you're proud of how she looks. Why shouldn't I want a picture of me for the same reason?" "For one thing, having that much pride in the one ye love and having that same pride in yuirself is horses of two very different colors." He thought for a moment. "Besides, that picture has Laura in it, too. D'you think she's gonna like having everybody see how she looked being with child, like she was?" That stopped Jane, but not for long. "I-I wasn't gonna hang it down here. I was gonna put it in my room. Who goes in there but me?" "So ye're gonna spend all that money t'be buying it for yuir own pride in how pretty ye are?" "No, I... you think it'll cost a lot?" "I don't know, Jane, but I know how much Mr. Thomas is charging me - which is none of yuir business, by the way - and _I'm_ getting a discount for letting Laura and ye off t'be posing for him. I know ye got the money over in the bank, but ain't it better t'be leaving it there than t'be spending it on something ye don't really need, except t'be satisfying a streak of vanity I never knew ye had?" "I ain't that vain, Shamus, and you know it." "If ye ain't, then, Jane, ye'd best be thinking, thinking long and hard about why ye want t'be doing what I'm telling ye is not a very good idea." * * * * * Monday, April 15, 1872 Doctor Hiram Upshaw put on his best professional smile as he followed Trisha and Kaitlin O'Hanlan into his examination room. "Now, then,"he said, closing the door behind him, "what seems to be the problem?" "Nothing,"Trisha answered, fuming. "Nothing serious enough to waste _your_ time with, anyway." Kaitlin shook her head. "She threw up this morning, _and_ she told me that she's felt like throwing up the last three days." "Hmmm,"he pursed his chin. "What have you been eating, Trisha, anything unusual?" Trisha thought for a moment. "Nothing different from what I always eat." "She's been eating the same food as Emma and me, and we both feel fine,"Kaitlin added. "There's nothing wrong with me,"Trisha insisted. "My monthlies are due, maybe..." She shrugged. "...even overdue. I-I kind of lost track of them." The doctor raised an eyebrow. "How were they last month?" "I... I don't remember. They must've hit right about the time Kaitlin and I... when the judge... when he divorced us. I wasn't really paying attention to anything else." He thought about what she'd said. "It _could_ just be your time of month, but it _could_ also be something else. How about if you take off your clothes and get up on the table, so I can have a look?" "This is stupid,"Trisha said, "and I'm already late for work." Upshaw patted the table. "Humor me." He grinned. "Sure, you're late, but it _is_ your store." "Please,"Kaitlin asked softly, taking Trisha's hand. "For me." Trisha sighed and began to unbutton her blouse. "Dirty pool, Kaitlin. For you, I'll do it." * * * * * The exam took him less than ten minutes. "We're done,"he told his patient, unbuckling her from the stirrup holding her right ankle. "Thank heavens." She sat up and worked on the buckle for her left ankle. "So how I do, Doc?" Upshaw pulled off his gloves and tossed them into a bucket. "I don't think that your monthlies were much of a problem last month, Trisha, and I don't think they're the problem today." He took a breath. "In fact, I don't think that your monthlies will be a problem for the next eight months." "What do you mean,"the blonde asked. She climbed off the table and started to put on her drawers. "Of course they'll be a problem." He sighed. "No, they won't, Trisha. Pregnant women don't have monthlies, and you're about six weeks along." * * * * * "Eerie, ladies,"the driver yelled as the stage pulled up to the depot. "This here's Eerie." As soon as the stage came to a halt, Sam Duggan stepped forward to open the door. "Which one of you lovely ladies is Sophie Kalish?" "That would be me." A tall brunette with a mass of black curls stepped out onto the platform. "Are you Mr. Duggan?" "I am." Sam gave a low bow. He pointed to a short, balding man standing nearby. "And that's my assistant barman, Cuddy Smith." The other man nodded. Three other women climbed out of the stage, a slender brunette, a second, more buxom brunette, and a tiny blonde. "And these are Opal Sayers, Ruth Kantor, and Hettie Morris,"Sophie said. Each woman nodded as her name was mentioned. "Ladies, this is our new employer, Sam Duggan, and his associate, Cuddy Smith." "Cuddly,"Hettie said with a giggle in her voice. "He certainly is." The man smiled. "It's Cuddy, ma'am, short for Cuthbert, but I'll be glad t'be 'Cuddly' with - for you." The blonde giggled again. "I just bet you will." "I hate to interrupt,"Duggan said, trying not to smile, "but we need to get you ladies and your luggage to the Lone Star." He looked around at the crowd that had gathered, mostly men who were staring at the women. "Anybody care to help?" Ruth smiled at the men. "We'd be _ever_ so grateful if one of you big, strong men could... give us a... hand." She giggled at her joke, as number of men stepped forward. "You can start with this here trunk." The driver shifted a metal-banded trunk so it was sticking out over the side of the stage. Two tall men hurried to take it, grunting from the weight, as they lowered it down. Pablo Escobar had been staring at the ladies instead of helping Hammy Lincoln change the team of horses pulling the stage for a fresh team. He moved quickly to the back of the stage. "I'll get the boot opened, so you can get the rest of their gear out." He opened the straps that held the netting in place behind the vehicle. "Thank you, Mr. Ritter,"Ruth told him. "Those're our bags, the ones with the blue star on 'em." Pablo shook his head. "I'm not Mr. Ritter; I just work for him." He pulled a green velvet carpetbag out of the boot and set it down on the wooden sidewalk. "Oh,"Ruth replied, giving him a pretty pout. "I am sorry." She giggled, amused that the boy took her flirting so seriously. Pablo grinned. "Don't be sorry. If I was Mr. Ritter, I'd be back at the livery stable instead of over here helping you. Over here's a _lot_ better." "That's sweet." Ruth stepped over and gave him a peck on the cheek. "You be sure to come over to the Lone Star and see us once we get settled in." "That goes for all of you men,"Duggan announced in a loud voice. "These ladies'll be performing for your pleasure, songs and dances to make you smile, starting..." He paused for dramatic effect. "...starting this _Saturday_ night." * * * * * "Somebody t'see you, boss,"Joe Kramer announced, standing in the half- opened doorway to Dwight Albertson's office. "A Mr. Stafford." The banker looked up at his teller. "Stafford... oh, yes, send him in, please." "Yes, sir." Joe held the door while Forry walked in, then closed it and headed back to his window. Albertson stood and offered his hand. "I'm Dwight Albertson, Mr. Stafford. What can I do for you?" "Read this, for a start." Forry reached into his coat and took out an envelope, which he handed to the other man. Dwight looked at the envelope. "From the Austin bank, eh. How's Joe Cochrane doing these days?" "Very well; he's the general manager there now. That's his letter there." Dwight opened the sealed envelope and took out a folded sheet of paper. "Letter of introduction..."he mumbled as he read. "...Forrest Stafford... business opportunities... letter of credit." He whistled. "That's a substantial sum of money." "Yes, it is. My father sent me out here to look for investments. I saw the name Eerie on a map of the territory and got curious. Can you tell me something about the place and what opportunities there might be?" The banker nodded and frowned thoughtfully. "The town was a pueblo with some Spanish name that nobody remembers any more. Those mountains north of town are called the Superstitions for some reason. Some superstitions are 'eerie', so that's what they named the town. Or, at least that's one version of how the town got its name." "There's a lot of men up in those mountains looking for gold or silver. You _might_ make some money grubstaking a lucky miner, but there's no way of knowing who that lucky miner would be. We've a few cattle ranches in the area - they're sometimes looking for money to buy more stock or more land. But you're from Texas; I expect that you know about such things." Stafford cocked an eyebrow. "You're right. My pa started out with ranching. If we're going to start investing out here in Arizona, ranching might be a good place to start. Who owns the biggest spreads in these parts?" "The biggest, that'd be Abner Slocum. Jo Beth Smith's place is the next biggest, but Abner's ranch is a good bit larger. The Ortegas - they're one of those Spanish land grant families - have a pretty fair-sized spread, but they don't like doing business with us gringos." "What can you tell me about this Mr. Slocum? Would he be open to some outside money?" "Well, I don't know as he's looking for any investors just now. Abner came out here just after the War - from Arkansas I think - with about fifty head and a few hands. He took over a small parcel of land with water rights and worked his way up to... a couple thousand head now, at least." Forry frowned. Back in Texas we have to drive them into Kansas to get them to the railroads. I never heard of a cattle drive from Arizona to Kansas." "He doesn't send them east to be slaughtered; he sells to the miners and the Army - oh, and to the Indian Agency." "What sort of a man is he?" Dwight shrugged. "Hard worker, stubborn, he's got a few other investments hereabouts, and he's done well by them. He likes to play poker, if you're looking for a game, and he's not bad at it. He takes my money more often than I take his." He looked sharply at the younger man. "I'll be glad to introduce you two... and to assist you on any sort of a deal you cook up, but I have to tell you, Abner's a friend. He's also my biggest depositor, and he'll be here a long time after you go back to Austin, so don't ask me to give you any help against him." Forry grinned. "I wouldn't expect you to, Mr. Albertson." "Dwight... if we're going to be working together, we might as well be friendly about it." "Fine by me, _Dwight_. You struck me as an honest man as soon as I walked in. I may just take you up on that offer of an introduction, and I do look forward to doing business with you - and with Mr. Abner Slocum." * * * * * "Sorry I'm late,"Amy Talbot said, rushing into Jane's bedroom. Edith Lonnigan glanced over at her. "You needn't have come, my dear. You're still at the stage where a monthly check-up is enough." "I know,"Amy replied. "I just came to keep Laura company." She chuckled. "Besides who else do I have to share pregnancy stories with?" Laura finished unbuttoning her blouse. She draped it over the chair. "I don't know; who?" She smiled. "Whatever the reason, Amy, you're more than welcome." "Thanks." Amy sat down on the bed. "How's it going?" Laura unbuttoned her skirt and let it fall to the floor. "Not too bad. The baby's not moving around as much." She started to untie the ribbon on her petticoat. "Lucky you; mine's been doing somersaults all day." Edith looked closely at her patients. "Your baby's gotten bigger, Laura. It doesn't have a lot of room left to move around in, so it's settling down. Amy, your little one still has a good bit of space, so it's taking advantage of that to learn how its body works." She made a few quick notes. "Laura, do you have anything else - good or bad - to report." "Something bad, I'm afraid. Last Tuesday, I suddenly felt - I don't know - dizzy, weak. Maggie and Jane brought me up here, and I stayed in Jane's bed for a couple hours." She took a breath. "After that, I felt fine, so I went back to work. It-It - whatever it was -- hasn't happened since, thank Heavens." Edith frowned. "But it did happen. Your body is preparing you to have that baby. That takes a lot of energy, sometimes more than you have. The worst of it is that it can get _too_ ready. Your water could burst, or you could actually go into labor. If that happened... well, we could probably save you but..." Her voice trailed off. "But not the baby,"Laura finished the thought in a terrified whisper. The horror of having so many hopes and dreams dashed was obvious in her voice. The midwife nodded sadly. "No, not the baby. If you feel another spell like the one you described, lie down _immediately_. I'll talk to Shamus and Molly when we've finished up here. I've no doubt that they'll want to help. You should take more breaks, too, and not exert yourself as much as you have been doing." "Maybe I should just quit,"Laura said in frustration. "Stay home and spend all my time in my own bed till the baby comes." Edith came over and took the anxious woman's hand in her own. "It may come to that, but don't do it unless you have to." "Knowing you, you'd get a bad case of cabin fever,"Amy added, "even with all the company you'd have." "Company, you mean the baby?"Laura asked. Amy chuckled. "The baby, too, but we both know that Molly would practically move in with you, and I'd be over to visit as often as I could. More to the point, I think Arsenio would close down his smithy, so he could take care of you; either that, or he'd move his anvil and forge right into your bedroom." * * * * * Leland Saunders looked around the hardware store. A stocky man with thinning gray hair was standing behind a counter, talking to a taller, bald man. Leland waited until the other man had left before he walked over. "'Scuse me; you Mr. Styron?" "I am." Horace Styron studied the man, trying to judge what he might be able to sell him. "What're you looking for, son?" Saunders pointed to a display on the counter. "A can of Bull Durham chaw, for a start." Horace handed him a can of the chewing tobacco. "That'll be two bits." "Here ya go." He tossed the man a coin. Styron started to ring the sale up on the cash register, but then stopped. "Anything else?" "Some facts,"he replied. "I'm Leland... Lee Saunders." The two men shook hands. "I work for Mr. Forrest Stafford. He's figuring to do some business with a fella named Slocum, and he's trying to find out what he can, so he can get a better _handle_ on things." Styron made a thoughtful face. "There's not that much I can tell you. Slocum's a likeable enough man. He knows quality goods when he sees them, and he's willing to pay what they're worth - pays his bills on time, too. And I hear he keeps a pretty good grip on his hands, makes them work hard and doesn't tolerate any guff." "Anything else?" "He doesn't meddle much in what goes on here in town, doesn't try to run things just 'cause he's got the money and the men to try. We've got a petition going - trying to take control of some of the less desirable folks hereabouts. He ain't signed it, but a couple of his men have - you're welcome to, yourself." Styron pointed to a sheet of paper attached to a small clipboard. Leland shook his head. "I don't figure t'be 'round here long enough t'get mixed up with anything like that." "He told his men that they could sign it or not,"Styron continued. "He said it was their choice, not his. It would've been better if he signed it and told them they _had_ to sign, too, but you can't expect miracles, I guess." "I guess not,"Leland replied. "Thanks for your help, though." He took a breath. "Say, you got any ideas who else I should talk to?" "You might try talking to Clyde Ritter; he runs the local livery stable, and... ummm, Liam O'Hanlon over at the Food and Grain. They both do business from time to time with Slocum." "I'll just do that. Thanks again, Mr. Styron." He turned and walked out of the store. * * * * * "That'll be thirty cents, Miss Osbourne,"the young clerk said. Nancy dug through her change purse for the money. She counted out what she needed and handed the coins to the girl. "Here you are, Benita." "Thanks, it was nice seeing you again." Benita Ortega had been a student at Nancy's school. Now that she had graduated, she worked at her family's grocery. Nancy managed a smile. "Yes, it was." Seeing a former student again had been pleasant. Being ordered like a housemaid to "Get your lazy self over to the market and get me a half bushel of potatoes,"by Zenobia Carson had been anything but pleasant. Still, one of those potatoes _was_ going to be baked as part of her own dinner. "And thank you for inviting me to your quinceanos party,"she added, as she picked up the bag of spuds and headed for the door. Only to be stopped by a short, muscular man with greasy black hair who blocked her way. "Well, now, hello, pretty lady,"he said with a chuckle. "Excuse me, sir,"Nancy replied, stepping to the left, "but I am in a hurry." He moved in front of her. "Now don't you be that way. My name's Dell Cooper, and I'm just trying t'be friendly. I had my eye on you when you were on the street." He leered at her, his eyes roaming up and down her body. "You look like a gal who can be _real_ friendly." "Not to the likes of you." She stepped right and tried to go around him. He moved to bar her way again. "Sure you can. What's your name, honey?" She made a sound of exasperation. "Let me pass!" "I'm the new toll keeper here, and there'll be a fare to get by." He shifted in closer to her and ran a finger along her cheeks. "Them lips o'yours are probably the tastiest thing in this here store." "Taste this." She slapped his face. "Now, good day!"and hurried around him while he recovered from the surprise of it. "Damn,"Dell Cooper said, rubbing his cheek where she had struck him. "I do love a feisty lass." He watched Nancy's pert little bottom strutting away until it left the store, and then, walked over to Benita. "You was waiting on her, child,"he asked her. "D'you know who that sweet, little bit o'fluff was?" The teen frowned at him. "Won't do you any good, se?or. Miss Osbourne doesn't hold with men who have no manners." "Don't give me any lip, you Mex brat ." Dell raised a hand. Sebastian Ortega walked swiftly over to his niece's side. "Is there a problem, se?or?" "I just asked her a question, and she starts bad mouthing me. What kinda place you running here?" He gave the taller Mex his most intimidating glare. No damn storekeeper was going to scare him. Sebastian didn't take the hint. "A place where grown men don't threaten fifteen year old girls." He crossed his arms across his chest, ready to fight if need be. "If you have a problem with that, you can leave." "Look, mister,"Dell answered, taking a half step back, "all I want to know who this Miss Osbourne is." "Nancy Osbourne?"Sebastian replied. "She is the teacher over at the Eerie Public School, and she's far too much of a lady to _ever_ be interested in a peasant lout such as you." * * * * * "I'm home, Kaitlin,"Trisha said sheepishly, as she came into the house. "What's for supper?" Kaitlin spun around from the stove where she was standing. "Nothing - not a damned thing - until we talk. Now get upstairs." She pointed at Emma, who was sitting at the table ding her homework. "Emma, you get over here and watch this stew. Make sure it doesn't scorch." "Y-yes, ma'am."Emma closed her book and hurried over to the stove. Trisha was about to argue until she saw the look on Kaitlin's face. "Yes, Kaitlin." She walked over and began to go upstairs, with the other woman right behind her. When they reached their bedroom, Trisha went in first. Kaitlin followed. And locked the door behind her. "You ran out of the doctor's office like the building was on fire,"Kaitlin stormed, "_and_ without saying a word. I want some answers, Trisha, and I want them now." "Please, Kaitlin, let me explain." "Explain what? You told me that all you did at the dance was let that... that _Godwyn_ man kiss you. A woman doesn't get pregnant from kissing." "I... I... I know." "You know. Do you _know_ what you're going to do now? Are you going to _marry_ the man, so your child has a name?" "Marry?" Trisha's eyes went wide. "Yes, marry; when an unmarried woman gets pregnant, she usually marries the man who did it." "But he... I don't know..." She bit her lip and stared down at the floor, unable to meet the other woman's eyes. Kaitlin studied Trisha's reaction. "There's something you aren't telling me, isn't there?" "No!" "Yes, there is. And I... I, Kaitlin McNeil O'Hanlan, order you to say what you don't want me to know." She used the phrase that, thanks to Shamus' potion, Trisha _had_ to obey. Trisha trembled, trying hard not to speak. She closed her eyes and clenched her fists, fighting... and losing. "He... he m-may not be... be the fa-father." Her body slumped as she helplessly blurted out the truth. "I've... I've been w-with t-t-two other... men." Kaitlin, startled, needed a moment to fashion the next question. "Who... when?" "E-Enoch R-Ryland when he w-was making my... my dress and Ethan... Ethan T-Thomas - he's a painter. I-I met him a couple... a couple d-days after the... the dance." Kaitlin made quick mental calculations. "Close enough together that it could be any one of them, and one of them a man you had just met. I can't believe it! You're even worse than Cecelia Ritter says you are. Maybe I should go to that meeting, tell everyone what you just told me, and help her vote you off the board." "No, please, Kaitlin... please don't." She was on the verge of tears. "You saying that would kill any chance I have of staying on the board." The other woman looked at her in disgust. "Is that all you're worried about, your seat on the board?" "No, but, if I get thrown out, so do all my ideas, everything I - you - accomplished with the dance would go to waste. You know what I want for the church. You want it, too." "Very well, I'll keep quiet... for now." "For now? When... when are you planning to tell?" "I won't have to tell anyone. You can't hide a pregnancy. You'll be showing soon enough - showing the whole town soon enough the _slut_ you are." She sighed. "You certainly made your own bed, and I'm not sorry for what will happen to you. What bothers me is what's going to happen to Emma when people find out." Trisha remembered her dream, her daughter grown up and a whore. "You... you think she'd do anything drastic?" "I don't know what she'll do - except that she's going to be _very_ hurt. She's a strong girl, though, and she's got some good friends, I think - I hope - she can handle it." "I-I'm sure that she can."Trisha tried to sound confident. 'Please, Lord,' she prayed silently, 'give her the strength to handle it.' "Thank you for your vote of confidence in Emma. As for you, I'll be expecting you to take on a much larger share in the work around here." "Why? You haven't had problems so far in the amount of housework I do." "I have; I just haven't said anything. But it's one thing to it's one thing to do the lion's share of keeping up the house for the three of us and an _entirely_ different thing to be the one taking care of _your_ baby." "You're going to agree to learn how to cook and sew and do all the other things a baby needs done for it, or you can forget about my keeping quiet." Kaitlan took a breath. "Do you agree?" She held out her hand. Trisha half-closed her eyes and sighed. "Do I have a choice?" "None at all." The other woman grimaced and shook her ex-wife's hand. "Then I agree." "Good, and since we've settled things - for now, let's go downstairs and have some supper." She took a breath. "We've having chicken stew, by the way." "How are we going to tell our daughter?" "We'll think about that for a while. Right now, I have no intention of sharing my shame with anyone, not even Emma." To herself, Kaitlin added, 'or Liam.' * * * * * Tuesday, April 16, 1872 "Annie,"Mrs. Spaulding began, "might I ask you for another favor?" Arnie had to smile. "Are you working on another dress for Clara?" "No, silly,"Clara replied. "Yo soy ... yo quiero ... que ... los espa?oles, umm ... que me aprend? ... hacer." Arnie all but winced at her terrible grammar. "What did you just say - in English, please?" "We wanted you to help us learn to speak Spanish. Would you... please?"she asked. "Me? I am not a teacher." The girl shook her head. "We know that, but you _are_ a friend, a friend who speaks both languages." "I... I would not even know where to begin,"Arnie told her. Now Hedley joined in. "You needn't worry about that. We have textbooks that you - all of us can use." "Yes,"Mrs. Spaulding continued, "when we first moved to Fort Yuma, there was a lieutenant out there, Lieutenant Kenner, who taught a course in conversational Spanish. My husband signed us all up for the course, but we... lost him not too long after that, and wound up here in Eerie. We still have the books for that class, though." Hedley picked up a book that had been placed on the empty chair next to his. "We even have father's copy, so you'll have one to use." He handed it to her. "I can't think of a more pleasant way to learn Spanish than to have you as our teacher." "I-I do not know,"Arnie said, nervously, blushing at his compliment. "Can I take a book home to look at? I will give you my answer when I bring back your laundry on Saturday." Hedley smiled at her. "If you decide before that, we could even start our class on Saturday... after lunch." "Yes."Clara clapped her hands. "We could make an afternoon of it. You could even stay for supper." Arnie was taken aback. "I will have to think about that, too." "Just to give you an additional incentive,"Mrs. Spaulding replied, "we're prepared to pay you for those lessons, a dollar for each of us, with two lessons a week, you'd be earning $6 weekly." That was what Shamus had paid. "I-I will give you my answer as soon as I decide, but, whatever I decide, thank you for the offer." * * * * * ` Potion Mob or Lynch Mob? ` For the past few weeks, The Reverend Thaddeus Yingling ` has been preaching on the topic of Shamus O'Toole's ` amazing potion. Reverend Yingling has raised doubts ` regarding Mr. O'Toole's code of ethics, and he has ` suggested that the people of Eerie would be better ` served if that potion were in other hands - specifically ` in _his_ hands. ` While this paper is second to none in its admiration of ` Reverend Yingling as a spiritual leader, we must ques- ` tion his actions in this regard. No one felt the need to ` question Mr. O'Toole's _ethics_ when he first used his ` potion to save this community from the ravages of the ` Hanks Gang. Nor were they questioned when his potion ` prevented the untimely death of young Elmer O'Hanlon. ` We will freely admit that mistakes have been made, but in ` no way can Mr. O'Toole be blamed for them. Nor can anyone ` say that he has misused the potion for his own ends. ` What is, perhaps, the most disturbing point regarding the ` reverend's efforts is the attitude of the allies he has ` acquired. We were present at the meeting of the Eerie ` Methodist Church board of elders when he sought the support ` of those elders in his cause. If that meeting had been a ` scene of calm deliberation of the issues involved, we would ` not be concerned. ` Unhappily, that was not the case. The cries of the crowd, ` particularly of its leader, Mrs. Cecelia Ritter, more closely ` resembled those of a lynch mob out for blood than a meeting ` of church members discussing a proposal made by its minister. ` We regret the decision that, we feel, the board of elders was ` _forced_ to make, and we strongly urge the town council to ` resist the pressures that they, no doubt, are now being ` subjected to. ` It may be that, after taking the time to address Reverend ` Yingling's concerns in a reasonable and logical manner, the ` council will choose to agree. However, such _rational_ ` decision making cannot possibly occur in the highly emotional ` atmosphere that now exists. The members of the Eerie Town ` Council should wait on this matter until - we hope - cooler ` heads prevail. Roscoe watched Trisha read the editorial. "What'd you think of it?"he asked when she finished reading and put the paper down on the counter of the Feed & Grain. "Not bad for a man who says that he can't put words together. It's good to see that somebody agrees with me." "Thanks." "But you know that you're gonna catch all kind of hell for it, don't you?" "I do, but Ozzie Pratt once told me that a newspaper's job is to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable. It sounded like a good idea considering what's going on. Besides,"he said with a chuckle, "I run the only newspaper _and_ the only print shop in town. They can't exactly pull their advertising, even if they want to - and they will... want to that is." To himself, he added, 'and I'm not about to be threatened by them again.' * * * * * Arnie pulled her wagon up to the covered porch behind her house. Teresa sat in her wheelchair supervising Ysabel and Costanza, who were stirring a cauldron filled with clothes and soapy water. "Hola, Dulcita,"Teresa greeted her daughter. "Did you have a good visit with your friends?" Arnie nodded and began to unload the bags of dirty laundry from the wagon. "S?, Mama. They are nice people, and Mrs. Spaulding is almost as fine a cook as you are." She took a breath, bracing herself for a reaction. "They offered me a job, Mama." "A job, what sort of a job?" "They, all three of them, Hedley, Clara, and their mama, they want to learn Spanish, and they want me to be their teacher." Ysabel put down the paddle she was using to stir the clothes. "You're no teacher. Like Papa used to say, 'do not ask the elm tree for pears.'" "He also said that 'the man who limps is still walking.' I have spoken Spanish my whole life. With the books they have, that should be enough." Her younger sister, Constanza, raised a curious eyebrow. "What books?" "This one." Arnie reached in between two sacks. She found the book Hedley had given her and passed it to Ysabel. "This is the book that the Army uses to teach Spanish. They each have a copy, plus this one for the teacher... me." Ysabel leafed through the book. "It seems like a good book, but can _you_ teach from it?" "The Spauldings believe I can,"Arnie replied. "They are sure enough of me that they will pay me $3 a lesson... with two lessons a week. "That is good money,"Teresa said approvingly. "As your papa said, 'a bird has to believe that it can fly.' If _you_ believe that you can do it, then _I_ will, also." Arnie smiled. "Thank you, Mama. I still want to think about it some more. And, Ysabel, you are also right. I am not a teacher - not yet, anyway, but maybe I can _be_ a teacher." She laughed. "For $6 a week, I can certainly _try_ to be one." * * * * * "Duggan, ye dirty..."The rest of Shamus' sentence was a long stream of Cheyenne phrases. It was the language he used for profanity. When he didn't show any sign of stopping, Molly interrupted. "What's the matter, Love, that's got ye spouting off like that?" "This; read this." He showed her the page of the weekly paper. In the center of the page was a large-type advertisement, set off in a box for extra emphasis. "Now I know what he was building that..." He used another Cheyenne term. "...stage for." ` LOOKING FOR SOMETHING _BETTER_ THIS SATURDAY NIGHT? ` Sam Duggan and the Lone Star Saloon are PROUD to present ` _THE_ _LONE_ _STAR_ _DANCING_ _DARLINGS_ ` 4 Lovely Ladies Singing and Dancing Just For _YOU_! ` First Show 8 PM Saturday ` Fifty cent cover charge "I can see what set ye off,"Molly said. "'Tis bad enough he's going up against ye like that, but t'be starting on our biggest night. It just ain't fair." "'Tis more than that, Molly, me Love. I've known about them girls all week, but I didn't think he'd have the guts t'be starting them shows on Saturday, going up against our dance. 'Tis an act of war, it is, and come Saturday night, we'll be seeing just how bad a war it's going t'be." * * * * * Forry Stafford and his men eased up on their reins as they came near the ranch house. "Dogs, boss,"Dell Cooper said, pointing to a pair of hounds that, even as he spoke, were rising up on the porch. They ran down from the porch, barking as they came. "I see them,"Stafford said sourly. When he saw Cooper's hand reaching for his pistol, Forry added firmly. "Let 'em be." Cooper's hand moved away. "All right, but if either of them goes to snapping at me, all bets are off." The pair stopped about five feet away from the horses, but they kept barking. "Blue... Smokey, shut up!" A tall man wearing an apron over denim work clothes walked stiffly out onto the porch. "Can I help you, gentlemen." Stafford studied the man for a moment. "You can, if you're Mr. Abner Slocum." "'Fraid not. He's inside working. I'm Elias Tucker... Tuck, they call me. I'm his cook." A tall, burly man came out onto the porch. "_I'm _ Abner Slocum. What can I do for you?" "Call off them dogs, for starters,"Leland Saunders told him. Slocum stuck too fingers in his mouth and gave a shrill whistle. The two dogs went quiet and ran back up onto the porch to stand next to their master. "Anything else?"Slocum asked. "My name's Forry Stafford,"Forry said as he dismounted. "These here are Dell Cooper and Leland Saunders. We rode out here to ask you some questions, if don't mind." At the sound of that name, Slocum squinted slightly and gave all three of them a second, and more careful, look. "They must be pretty important questions if it takes three of you to ask them." Abner studied the men for a moment more. "I'll talk to you, Stafford. Your men can wait outside. If you like, I'll have Tuck bring them out something to drink." Leland grinned. "Whiskey, if y'got it." "You'll have to settle for some lemonade,"Slocum answered. "Tuck'll bring it out here for you." He watched the men walk up and onto the porch. "After you, Mr. Stafford." He held the door, as Forry walked through, and then followed him into the house. The dogs moved over to a corner of the porch and laid down, still watching Dell and Leland. Tuck had gone inside and was standing by the door. "Lemonade for the men on the porch, Tuck,"Slocum told him, "and then bring some for Lieutenant Stafford and me." As Tuck hobbled off to fetch the drinks, Abner turned to Forry. "You _are_ the Lieutenant Stafford in... Brian Kelly's records, aren't you?" "I am, sir. In fact, those records were what I came out here to ask you about." Slocum waited for him to say more. "You've obviously read them,"Forry continued. "Can I ask why you wanted to?" "You can ask, but I don't intend to answer." "Why?" "Let's just say that I don't believe them." Forry stiffened. "Sir, those records are the report of a military court. How can you say that they are in error?" "You, for one thing. The very fact that you're here asking questions about them." "Sir, I don't follow,"Forry said, his tone guarded. "It seems to me that the innocent lieutenant portrayed in those records would have no reason to worry that someone was reading them. A guilty man would. He'd do just what you did. He'd come all the way out here from Texas -- or wherever you came from -- to ask me the very question you just asked." Tuck brought in a pitcher and two glasses. "You and your men are welcome to a drink; it's a long, dry ride out here from town." Abner poured himself a glass and took a quick sip. "But, unless you have another question, one that I'd care to answer, I'll ask you and your men to leave. I've a ranch to run, and I've no more time to waste on you three." "That, sir, is unfair." Forry filled his glass and took a longer drink. "I have every right to know why you're checking into my past." "No you don't, _Mister_ Stafford." Abner gave him a sly smile. "And an innocent man would have protested his innocence, not my actions." For a moment, it looked like Forry Stafford would flare in anger, but then he calmed himself with a visible effort. Picking up the glass of lemonade, he downed it in two large gulps. "I thank you, Sir,"the Texan said afterwards, tonelessly. "I think my question has been sufficiently answered. As much as I have enjoyed seeing this part of the country, my men and I will be returning home very soon." Abner nodded, but said nothing. He only seemed to be waiting for his uninvited guest to leave. * * * * * Leland leaned back in his chair and took another sip of lemonade. Some feet away, two men were loading a wagon with branding irons, cords of firewood, and other equipment. "I surely do enjoy hard work. I could just sit here for hours and watch men doing it." He laughed at his own joke. "You got that right,"Dell agreed, settling back in his own chair. One of the men noticed them on the porch. He stopped working and walked over to the porch. "You men here looking for work?" "Maybe,"Dell replied. "What sorta boss owns this spread?" "Mr. Slocum's the boss,"the man answered. "He works us hard, but he pays good money for it." The second man came over from the wagon. "That is true. He respects his men, treats us like us like _hombres_, not peons. He is a good man to work for." "_If_ you work." A tall, well-muscled black man came out of the barn. "Joe, they's waiting for you 'n' Angel out at the camp. Stop jawing and get that gear out there.? Dell frowned and looked at the hands. ?You gonna let that nigger talk to you like that?? ?I ain?t got much choice,?Joe Ortlieb told him. ?That?s Luke Freeman; he?s the foreman.? He waited half a beat before adding, ?And he?s right about where we've got to be. Good talking to you.? Dell was astounded. ?What kind of fool puts some nigger monkey in charge of white men?? ?Se?ior Slocum is no fool,?Angel Montiero answered, ?and neither is Luke. He knows the job and he's good at it.? The black walked up onto the porch. ?Thanks, Angel, but I can speak for m?self. You ?n? Joe should get moving.? He watched the two men climb on the wagon and drive off. ?You gots a problem with me, _gentlemen_?? ?I got a problem with any nigger who don?t know his place,?Leland said, standing up and glowering at Freeman. Luke glared back at him.?This here _is_ my place. I don?t know what you?s doing here, but when you?re done, I?ll be glad to talk t?you ?bout it.? ?Anytime, _boy_.? Forry stormed out of the house. ?Cooper, Saunders, get moving.? ?Yes, sir.?Leland said. ?We?ll settle this later, nigger.? Freeman chuckled. ?I?ll be waiting, _boy_!? * * * * * Dell Cooper had split off from the other two as soon as they got back to the Lone Star. Now he leaned against a tree and watched the door open as the first of the children ran out and scattered towards their homes. ?So this is the school,?he said to himself. ?It ain?t much t?write home about.? ?Can I help you with something, mister??one student, curious about the stranger at his school, asked. He looked down at the little brat. ?Your teacher's a gal named Nancy Osbourne... a pretty gal with long light brown hair and big... brown eyes, right?? ?Yes, sir,?the boy said. He pointed. ?Here she comes now.? Nancy closed the front door behind her. She took a key from her reticule and locked it, testing once to make sure the lock had set. ?I don?t get run off that easy, _Nancy_,?Dell said from the foot of the steps. She turned, putting the key away as she did. ?Who... oh, you?re that man from Ortega?s.? ?Right on the first guess; Dell Cooper, at your service.? He leered. ?And now that we know who we are, how ?bout you give me that kiss you owe me?? He was on the porch with her, leaning in _very_ close. She gave him a hard look. ?I told you, I have no interest in doing anything like that.? ?Sure you do.? He slid a finger along her arm. ?I know spinster schoolmarms. You just wanna be talked into it.? Nancy drew herself up. ?I'm hardly a spinster, and I most emphatically do not want to be talked into _anything_ by you!? ?The hell you don?t. We both know what?s gonna happen. You?re gonna act like the high ?n? mighty lady for a little bit longer. But then you?re gonna give me a smooch ? tongue ?n? all ? that?ll be more than worth all the trouble you?re giving me right now. And _then_ we?re gonna go off someplace and _really_ get to it.? ?Never!? She drew back her arm for another slap, but he caught her wrist in his hand. Dell frowned. ?Look, Missy, you can cooperate now or later. I?ll just give you a little time t?think about what I said. But it better not be long. It ain?t a good thing to keep me waiting too long. Something bad might just happen t?you.? He paused for effect. ?Or maybe t?some of them precious kids of yours.? ?You... you wouldn?t.? Her eyes were wide with incredulity. ?Me? Why what would I do?? He made a show of letting go of her wrist. ?Seems t?me if anything like that happened, it?d be on your pretty, little head.? He laughed and walked away. ?You just think about what I said,?he called back to her when he reached his horse. * * * * * Forry walked into the Eerie Saloon. He'd come down the street, checking out each saloon as he passed it by. The first two along this side were just dark holes. This one, a bigger operation, seemed to be on par with the Lone Star. He looked around for the tables that marked ?Maggie?s Place?, the restaurant that Zach Levy had recommended. He spotted them, but he found something else that looked just as tasty -- a redheaded woman in a green dress suit. She merited a glance just for the shape of her. But as he looked closer, he blinked in disbelief. How was it possible? A familiar face out here, at the end of the world? So it was! Maybe it was fate that the two of them should meet up again, to complete some unfinished business. Forry grinned. Maybe it was a sign that his luck was going to change for the better, after that disagreeable encounter with Slocum. He smiled in anticipation as he walked over to the poker table. ?Well, now, Tess Cassidy,?he said, ?what?re you doing here?? Startled at the sound of a name she knew so well, Bridget looked in the direction of the voice. She recognized Forry and immediately put on her very best poker face, the one she used when she was trying to bluff a full house with a pair of threes. ?Do I know you, sir?? ?Sure you do. I?m Forrest ? Forry ? Stafford. I was a lieutenant in the 4th Texas Mounted Rifles. Your father was a sergeant in the same company with me. How is he, by the way?? She shook her head. Her first instinct was to tell the truth, to make him go away. ?I?m sorry, but I?m not this woman that you think I am.? She was certainly not about to tell him her real name. ?Look, Mr. Stafford,?Stu Gallagher interrupted. ?We?re trying to play some poker. If you want to talk to Bridget, just be quiet for the rest of this hand, and she?ll deal you into the next one.? Forry nodded. ?So you?re calling yourself Bridget now, are you, Tess? I bet there's a good story behind that. I came in here for some supper, but as soon as that?s done, I?ll be back, and we can _reminisce_ about old times -- and new secrets.? With a laugh, he headed off towards ?Maggie?s Place?before she could answer. The card players had glanced at one another during the brief exchange. They knew full well that Forry Stafford had the wrong woman. With Forry moving off, it felt like a cloud had broken clear of the sun. But the card playing didn't go so well for Bridget. It was like the man had hexed her. ?Damn!?she muttered. Bridget was so preoccupied with the unwanted meeting -- and the promise of another one -- that she lost that hand and almost lost the next. She was just getting back into top form when she noticed Forry coming back again. * * * * * ?One card,?Forry said, tossing one of his down on the table. Bridget dealt him a card, watching his face closely as he picked it up. ?None for me,?she told the men at the table. She had two pair, jacks over fours. As far as she could tell, that was the best hand at the table. But she wasn?t sure that she could read Forry's tells. She'd never played cards with him back in the army. ?Bet a dime,?Stu Gallagher said. Joe Kramer folded. ?See that, and raise five cents.? Forry tossed a dime and an old half- dime into the pot. ?Care for a little side bet, Tess?? ?I?ve told you five times at least, I?m not this Tess Cassidy you say I am.? She sighed in exasperation. ?What sort of a side bet?? Forry smiled. ?Stu was talking about this dance they have in here on Saturday. You?re one of the... dancing girls, aren?t you?? ?What if I am?? ?Then _when_ I win, you agree to dance with me at least... umm, three times next Saturday.? Bridget frowned. ?We're not allowed to dance twice in a row with the same partner.? Forry chuckled. ?The dances don?t have to be one after the other.? She considered the wager. She was willing to take his money, but...dance with him? Still, she had the winning hand... didn?t she? ?Fine... and _when_ I win you agree to call me by my real name, Bridget?? ?Done.? He offered her his hand. ?Care to shake on it?? She frowned, but she shook his hand, and then tossed in a quarter. ?Raise another ten cents.? ?Too rich for me.? Gallagher laid his cards down on the table. Forry called. ?What?ve you got, _Tess_?? ?And that?s the last time you?ll call me that,?she told him triumphantly. ?Two pair, jacks and fours.? She showed him her cards. ?Not bad,?Forry replied, a sly smile curving his lips, ?but I?ve got better, full house... nines over threes.? He laid down his hands and leaned forward to rake in the pot. ?And I?ll see you at the dance... Tess.? * * * * * Wednesday, April 17, 1872 ?Laura,?Arsenio called out, as he walked back into the house from his smithy, ?you leave for work yet?? Laura groaned and looked up at him from the couch. ?No... I... I?m over here,?she answered in a voice that wasn?t more than a whisper. ?What?s the matter?? He rushed over to the coach. ?Are you all right?? ?I... I just felt a... a little dizzy, so I thought I?d... I?d lie down... just-just for a while.? She tried to smile. ?Do you want me to put you to bed?? She gave a wan chuckle and ran her hand across her gravid belly. ?Seems to me that?s how I got this way.? When he didn?t laugh, she added. ?No, I-I?m fine right here.? ?Good,?he said firmly. ?Then stay there. I?ll be right back.? He started for the front door. ?Arsenio, where are you going?? ?To get the doctor ? and don?t argue ? if you don?t need him, _I_ do.? * * * * * ?Baaa-aaa!? Nancy Osbourne was at her desk, preparing for the next lesson, while the children were having recess. If she heard the odd sound coming from the open door to the schoolhouse, she ignored it. The sound came again, ?Baaaaa!? ?What... who?? She looked towards the doorway. ?Carl, is that you?? Carl Osbourne stepped into view. ?Who else, Nanny Goat??he answered, using the teasing nickname he?d given her as a child. He walked the length of the room to where she sat. ?Mr. Slocum sent me to town on an errand, and I figured I?d just pop in t?see my little sister.? ?I... I?m so glad you came.? She stood quickly and hugged him. ?What?s the matter?? ?Who said anything was the matter?? ?You did. I hear it in your voice, Nancy, and I felt it in that hug. Something?s troubling you, and I want to know what it is.? ?No-nothing. Nothing I c-can?t handle.? ?You?ll tell me what it is, or I?ll...? He gave her a mischievous grin. ?I?ll call you ?Nanny Goat? and ?baaa? at you where all your kids can hear me do it.? She smiled back in spite of herself. ?You wouldn?t.? ?You know I would. Now, out with it; what?s the problem?? ?A man ? a very _nasty_ man ? named Dell Cooper has been forcing his attentions on me. I first saw him at Ortega?s market. He demanded my name and that I-I kiss him.? ?What?d you do?? ?I slapped his face and hurried away.? ?He chase after you?? ?No ? worse. He showed up here yesterday ? after school ? and insisted that I...kiss him, and then g-go off with him.? ?The coyote!? ?I refused, of course, but then he ? oh, Carl, he threatened my students if I wouldn?t d-do what he wanted.? Her eyes glistened. ?I don?t know what I?m to do. Was he only trying to scare me, or is he really crazy enough to hurt my children?? ?What?s this bas... this fellow look like?? She smiled and dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief. ?Are you going to go all _big_ _brother_ on him?? ?And if I am ? do you mind?? ?No, as far as I?m concerned. The bastard ? and he _is_ a bastard ? has it coming for trying to use my students to intimidate me. He?s a short, burly man with rather greasy, black hair.? Carl thought for a moment. ?Sounds like one of the men that came out to the ranch yesterday. They gave Luke Freeman some trouble, but he handled it pretty good, from what I hear.? ?What?d Mr. Freeman do?? ?He didn?t shoot ?em like the snakes they are.? Her brother waited a beat. ?And now, I?m more sorry than ever that he didn?t. I?ll find this Cooper fellah and have a long talk with him. He won?t give you no more trouble.? ?_Any_ more trouble,?she corrected him out of long habit. ?Baaa-aaa, you old Nanny Goat.? * * * * * ?It?s perfectly normal for a woman this far along in her pregnancy to have moments of weakness,?Dr. Upshaw told Arsenio. Laura took her husband?s hand. ?See, I told you there was nothing to worry about.? ?I reserve the right to always worry about you,?he answered. ?It?s part of the job of being your husband.? He kissed her cheek. ?I don?t mind the job, and I do _love_ the perks that go with it.? She squeezed his hand. "I sort of like your _perks_, too.?