Galen charged forward, shouldering Reed back into the railing, and jarring the gun from his hand. There was a painful grunt, and an instinctive defensive kick, his boot catching Galen painfully on the shin. He stepped back and swung hard, hitting Reed high on the chest. Reed stumbled sideways, grabbing the rail for support and throwing a punch back.

Galen ducked under the swing and drove his head into the man's stomach, sending them both sprawling on the ramp. They wrestled for advantage, elbows and fists, knees and boots, all flailing, some connecting, others wildly missing. Reed flipped Galen aside and pulled himself to his feet on the railing, delivering a wicked kick to Galen's side. He tried for another but felt his foot grabbed and twisted, sending him in a stumble across the ramp to the other rail. Before he could right himself, blows were raining down on his head and shoulders.

A fist like a rock connected with the side of his nose, and Reed cried out, stars filling his vision. before he could recover, another smashed into him, splitting his lips and filling his mouth with blood. They kept coming and his eyes closed, bruised and swollen, his cheek bursting and more blood splashed down his chin onto his clothes.

Galen felt strong hands pinning his arms and dragging him off the battered body, and he expelled a loud breath, staggering back and finally relaxing.

"I think that's about enough, son." Abner pulled him down the ramp and sat him down on the dock.

A small crowd had gathered to see the end of the fight, a couple of men ventured up to where Reed lay, sobbing and bleeding, unable to get up on his own.

"What happened, son, this ain't the Galen Helliwell I know. You nigh on killed that man. Maybe would've if I hadn't pulled you off."

Galen held his fingers out half open, knuckles swelling and bleeding, and he stared at them without recognition. His eyes sought Abner, and he shook his head briefly. "I don't know."

Abner told him to sit still and not move, and he went with the two men carrying Reed, feet dragging, down the ramp. "Get him right to the doc and tell him to keep him there 'til I get there." Abner watched them pile Reed onto the bed of a wagon before going back to Galen.

******

Lydia thanked Abner for bringing him home and assured him she could take care of him okay, he was not to worry. Galen sat woodenly at the kitchen table, his bleeding fists resting on his thighs. She heated a pan of water and began bathing them carefully, all the while trying to break through his fugue.

After wrapping his hands in strips of clean linen from a bedsheet, she poured him a stiff glass of whiskey, and sat beside him, her arm around his back.

"Galen, what happened? Please, talk to me."

His chest shifted as he heaved a sigh and turned to face her. "I'm not sure, Lydia . . . I don't know."

"Abner told me you might have killed that man if he wasn't there to stop you. That's not you at all, Galen. Not at all."

He rested his head in his bandaged hands. "Maybe I do know what happened." His voice was low and strained. "I've got something to tell you. Something you have a right to know. I shoulda done it sooner."

He sat back and took her hand. Lydia listened without saying a word as he related the story of his family's shame. Of his father's greed driven theft of Confederate gold, his mother's thankless years sticking with him, the abuse she suffered, and in the end the setting up of the trust.

"I know you always wondered where my money came from. I was just too ashamed to tell you or anyone, and I was also worried about how it might change the people I knew. When Reed assaulted you and Audrey . . . then when I saw him, all those bad memories about my father came back and I just- I saw him instead of Reed."

"Galen, I won't lie, I was curious, but it had nothing to do with wanting to be with you. Money's nice to have, no doubt, but it can't change my feelings for you. It can't, Galen." She sat up, a tiny smile played at the corner of her mouth. "That's why you kept after me about my singing career, isn't it? You didn't want me to think I didn't have to work."

"I didn't want you dependant, Lydia. I wanted you - and still want you, to be your own person."

"Well you didn't have to worry there, mister - I am, and always will be, no matter how rich the fella I'm with is."

Galen told her about the arrangement he made with Ellis at the bank, and why, and asked her not to let on, then he said he needed to get into town and see Abner about how the business with Reed would be handled. She stood and walked him to the door, watching as he coaxed Stanley into a trot, and she shook her head. He was back, but it must have been a nightmare journey. She closed the door and stayed leaning on it

******

Abner turned the stub of is cigar in his lips and stared across the room at Galen.

"Doc says he's in rough shape. Concussion. Busted nose. Split lips and cheek. Some loose teeth. He ain't gonna die, but he won't be doin' much livin' for a spell either."

"You reckon that's enough then. He doesn't need jail time for the assault?"

"Son, if jail time was needed for anyone, it'd be you. You as like near killed that man."

"You do what you think is right, Sheriff. You won't get any trouble from me."

The door flew open and Darcy Huber stopped in the doorway. "What's this about an attack on one of my men. Jesus, haven't I got enough trouble goin' on?"

Abner sat up, alert. "Just settle your herd there, Mr. Huber. Your man Reed assaulted a woman and young girl the other day, and Mr. Helliwell here explained how that was wrong."

"You did this?" I've seen you around the dock. What's your business anyway?"

"Just that. Mine. And what the sheriff just said was true. Reed hit a young girl who was trying to help a lady - my lady - when he assaulted her."

Huber looked at the bandaged hands and wiped his mouth. "Can he go?" He asked Abner.

The sheriff stood and clamped the cigar in his teeth. "I reckon justice has bin served in this case. Just a warnin' though, Mr. Huber. He tries anything when he's healed up, and it's me he'll be dealin' with. Best you tell him that."

The inner door opened, and the doc came out leading Reed, whose head was tilted so he could see out of one eye.

"Mmnnph."

"Don't try talkin', you'll disturb all that cotton in there that's supposed to clot the blood. Leave it in overnight, then take it out in the morning and rinse with some good whiskey." Doc handed him toward Huber.

"What about eating?" Huber asked.

Doc chuckled. "He's got enough to think about just breathin'. Maybe some soup tomorrow."

Huber scowled and shoved Reed outside. "I still want to talk to you, Sheriff."

"I'm right here." The cigar was stubbed out on the sole of a large boot.