"You helpin' these folks or not, Allison?"

"Yes- yes of course. Sorry Mister Ledger, I was-"

"Only interested in what is, young lady." He lowered an eyebrow and left her with the customers.

"My apologies, ladies. How can I help?" Allison listened but her thoughts were on Nathan and their previous evening. Her impulsive kiss was something she had imagined the first time they had lunch together. He seemed so- so emotionally fragile . . . She chuckled and had to apologize to the woman who asked about a bonnet, assuring her it was just a throat tickle, which she emphasized with a polite cough.

If anyone was fragile then it was her, she thought. Why couldn't it have been someone like him who sent for a bride, someone gentle and caring? She berated herself for the self pity. She didn't really know Nathan Tessler either; maybe he was just as bad . . . she didn't believe that.

"Excuse me, but are you interested in selling any of these items?"

"I'm dreadfully sorry I just- I was- yes, yes of course I am and uhm, is this what you've chosen?"

"It is."

"Wonderful choice it is too. The colour is so complimentary to your- to you." She took the item and wrapped it carefully, placing it in the woman's basket. As the customers left, she leaned on the counter, absently touching her lips. Nathan, you have helped me through this more than you know.

"Are you back on the ground?" Ledger carried several small boxes to the counter and began marking prices on the lids.

"I'm sorry, really. I sold the mauve bonnet to Mrs. . . . "

"Jepson. Clarisa Jepson. Her husband is the telegraph operator at the rail yard.

"I'll remember that, Mister Ledger."

He stopped writing and looked at her. "You've been here long enough, Allison. Call me Edward." He resumed writing.

"Oh- thank you, sir- Edward."

"Hmm, and you can sort these blankets over here, that'll let you get back to your day dreaming."

Allison blushed but immediately thought of Nathan again as she piled the goods on shelves. She knew most of his hesitance had to do with her earlier ordeal and it was something to consider and admire but she was getting past it all and with the danger of the brother removed, she was ready to take up living again.

**********

Nathan left the bank with a strange feeling about Morley and the two strangers. They had scared the pants off the Mayor, left at a boil but had simmered down a sum after visiting the bank. When he learned that Morley wanted to advise him about the expected confirmation of ownership most likely being Playford, a suspicious sensation crawled through his thoughts.

"Mornin' Sheriff."

He looked around and saw Walter wandering up behind. "Walter. You need something?"

"Well- I just wanted to say sorry for messin' up your desk the other day. That man came in so fast and angry . . ." He jigged around, hands waving in supplication.

"It's fine, Walter, don't worry about it. Try eating over a plate or better still, outside."

"Thanks, Sheriff, I surely will. Uhm- them two fellas that brought that Wellman brother in- they uh, they bin loadin' up a wagon with wire and kerosene."

"Where? When?"

"While you was in the bank; they pulled outta town about half an hour ago."

Nathan glanced at the bank and caught a quick glimpse of Morley moving away from the window. His earlier suspicion pushing through again.

"You watch the office for me, Walter."

"Am I in charge?"

"Yes and no eating at my desk." He hurried to the office with Walter hopping along behind and grabbed his rifle and a box of shells.

"You expecting trouble, Sheriff?"

"Not gonna dismiss the possibility, Walter." He slammed the chamber full, checked his six gun and pointed a commanding finger at his deputy.

"I know, I know. No eatin' in here."

Nathan fetched his horse and loaded his saddle bags and rifle, stopping as he saw Allison emerge from the store. She raised a hand in a small wave and began walking toward him. He lost track for a second as he didn't know whether to climb on his horse or wait. Waiting turned out to be the best idea and he held the reins down behind him as she stopped in front of him, pink cheeked and smiling.

"Going somewhere?"

Oh how he wished he wasn't. "Yeah, some business out of town." When she dropped the smile he took her arm and led her to the front of the office. "I need to tell you something and I want you to promise to tell Maggie and get her to tell the Mayor; he'll pay attention to her if only out of fear."

Allison listened as Nathan told her why he was going out of town and his sudden suspicion of Morley Ashbridge. She agreed without question and then they just stood silently, facing one another.

"About last night--"

"Don't, Nathan. Not now . . . here. You get your business done and please, please be careful . . ."

Not now, or here . . . He nodded, touching his hat brim and swung up into the saddle with a little more flourish than required. "I will and you see Maggie, okay?" She smiled as he went into an immediate gallop out of town.

**********

Playford smiled grimly as the wagon bumped noisily over the rutted roadway. His chat with the banker and the offer of a partnership deal in the prospective riverboat business had worked like a charm. Nobody greedier than bankers. He smiled wider. When the business was confirmed he would find a way to ease Ashbridge out and Ansen Playford would hold all the cards.

"What's your plan here, Playford?" Trace snapped the reins for no reason and waited for an answer.

"Build a fence defining the property as it meets the river on both sides."

"I didn't hire on to string wire. Why didn't you hire some help from town."

"I didn't want any blabbing about what I'm doing out here and you'll do what I pay you to do."

The wagon came to a stop and Ansen turned to Trace. "What are we stopping here for?"

"You don't pay me to string wire and I told you, I didn't hire on to do that so better make up your mind to get some other help or I'm gone."

"When I'm this close to the end you aren't going to pull out now. I'm paying good money and you're gonna earn it. Now let's get going."

"You can get going, Mister Playford, I'm gettin' gone." Trace tossed him the reins and hopped off the wagon, unhitching his horse from the back and mounting up.

"You ain't going nowhere." Playford grabbed his rifle and swung around only to face Trace's six gun aimed squarely at him.

"That would be a real big mistake." Trace waited until Ansen put the gun down. "I did what you hired me to do already so I think we can call it square. You want fencers, hire them in town.

Ansen was about to mount another argument when he saw the rider coming fast toward them. "I'll pay you double if you stay and take care of this." He lifted his head toward the rider.

Trace holstered his gun and watched as Nathan rode up, slowing and finally walking his horse toward the wagon.

"Having trouble, boys?"

"Nothin' that concerns you, Sheriff." Playford sounded sulky.

"No? What's the wire and posts for?"

"None of your business."

"It's my business if you think you're taking over the Wellman property."

Ansen reached into his pocket and pulled out a sheaf of folded papers, slapping them on the back of the seat. "These say I already have, Sheriff. Care to look?"

Nathan eased his horse around to the side, one eye aware of Trace as he took the papers from Ansen. His suspicion took form and he gritted his teeth at the fact that Morley had been lured into Playford's scheme by providing fake confirmation of ownership. Even when the real papers arrived they wouldn't be seen by anyone. Playford had pulled off his scheme. He handed them back and looked at Trace.

"Didn't figure you for a ranch hand, Mister Banner."

"What makes you think-?"

"We're just taking supplies to the cabin." Ansen cut in.

"That it? That's all you're doing? Expecting to be a while? That's a lot of kerosene for such a little place."

"I think you've seen all that's necessary to satisfy your legal mind, Sheriff." Ansen picked up the reins and gave them a crack, jerking the wagon ahead.

"Something else, Mister Banner?"

"Not right now, Sheriff." Trace eased his horse into a slow trot and followed the wagon.

Nathan watched until they were nearly out of sight, knowing he would have trouble down that same road. Right now he had to figure out what to do about Morely. He wasn't the toughest bronc in the remuda but he only had to keep quiet, think of the money Playford promised, which he believed had happened, and he couldn't be touched.

He turned back to town and decided he would get Willard to contact the registry and if necessary, the county Marshal.