Harlan stood looking out the saloon room window at the thickening sky. Brief, intermittent flashes lit its outlines followed by loud bumps of thunder punching the clouds. A wind had picked up and dust was forming as dancing sheets, swirling up the street and over the few citizens still heading for shelter.

"I think the girls should be here or we should be over there, Link."

"We settled this already. They're in good hands with Myrna and Charlie has his shotgun under the bar."

"We can't expect him to take on−"

"Harlan will you settle down!"

"Link."

"What?"

"They're here."

Link rolled off the bed and joined Harlan at the window. Gerrard and half a dozen men in slickers and ponchos tied up in front of the hotel and made their way inside. Both men instinctively ducked as a brilliant flash lit the room and an immediate crack of thunder followed. Huge drops of rain started abruptly, splatting on the glass and making a drumming noise on the saloon roof.

"Jesus! Thought that was coming right in here."

"Those girls must be terrified."

"Never heard you worry about Myrna's girls like that," Link chided, flopping back on the bed.

"Looks like it might be as bad as the last one we had." Harlan stared across at the saloon, ignoring the jibe.

"Then we're in a good spot," Link observed from his prone position on the bed. "Warm, dry and plenty to eat and drink downstairs."

******

Arthur stayed behind the counter where his quaking knees wouldn't show as Gerrard and his men took over the lobby of the hotel.

"Do you know who I am?" The voice snapped in Arthur's ear.

"Sir, no I−"

"You have Chinese girls staying in this establishment?"

"Huh- uh, no sir . . ."

"You know who I mean though, don't you?"

"Uh- uh . . ."

"What's your name?"

"Ar- Arthur, sir."

"You tell me where those Chinese girls are right now Arthur or we'll change it to mud."

Another thunderous crash blew the hotel door open and it banged so hard against the frame the glass broke. The men all reacted, startled as sheets of rain poured through the open door soaking the fancy carpet and some of the furnishings. Arthur stooped down and duck-walked out of the lobby and into the back office, locking the door.

The crash from downstairs alerted the two men. Link swung his legs off the bed and sat up facing his friend. "This could be a perfect time. All this rain and noise would be good for a surprise visit."

"I'd rather it was outside than shoot up the hotel."

"Beggars can't be choosers, Harlan; we can worry about damages later."

"Okay. I'll go down and brace them and you cover me from the balcony. When the shootin' starts just don't shoot me."

"Stay outta the way then." Link grinned and checked his gun as Harlan strapped on his, along with the knife harness.

Two of Gerrard's men had wrestled the door closed and tied it with a drapery sash from the lobby to keep the broken lock shut. Harlan stopped a couple of steps from the floor and waited until he was noticed.

"You!" Gerrard moved next to one of his men and glared at Harlan. "You have caused me a great deal of trouble, Mr. Trench."

"Happy to hear it, Captain."

"Well you won't be happy when I'm done here. Where are those girls you stole?"

"You mean the ones you kidnapped from their homes and families and sold into slavery and prostitution?"

"Don't play bleeding heart with me, Trench; they are my property."

"Property . . . that how you treat all your people, Captain . . . like property? Hear that, boys? You belong to the Captain here; he owns you."

One of the men behind Gerrard stepped to the side, one hand hovering close to his gun.

"Let me take 'im, Captain. We'll see who owns what."

"Well, Trench, you going to tell me where those girls are?"

Harlan watched the man's fingers and then his eyes. "Safe, where you won't get them, Gerrard." The gunman's eyes widened and Harlan blew his hand apart before he could finish getting the gun out. "Think about it, boys."

"Shoot! Shoot him!" Gerrard moved toward the counter as his men froze for a second before acting.

The roar of gunfire was doubled by the thunder crashes outside and men screamed and fell, dodging behind anything they could. The shots from the balcony felled three before they even knew where they came from and Harlan finished the other two. He sat down hard, his head hanging as the pain in his side burned like fire. Gerrard was crouched behind the counter, his mouth wide open and gasping for air. He jumped up and ran for the door, struggling to tear the sash off the handles so he could get out.

Link bounded down the stairs and grabbed Harlan.

"You're hit!"

Harlan nodded and tipped his head back. He squeezed his eyes shut then opened them in time to see Gerrard slipping out the door.

"I gotta get up."

"You sit here; I'll take care of him."

"NO! He's mine. Just get me on my feet."

"Harlan−"

"Will you just do as I ask?"

With a resigned sigh, Link helped Harlan up and over to the door. "Harlan this is a mistake."

"You bet, and he's gonna know it."

Harlan stepped out into the rain and raised his gun hand in front of his face to deflect the driving rain. Down on the street he could see Gerrard fighting with the horses as each lightning bolt and thunder crash had them rearing up and slipping in the mud.

"Leavin' without your property, Captain?" Harlan shouted over the storm, his wound charging him for the effort.

"You'll pay, Trench!" Gerrard yelled, falling back as the remaining horse reared up and nearly stomped him. He slid in the mud and grabbed the hitching rail for support, his face contorted with rage.

"No, Captain, you'll pay." Harlan cocked the hammer of his gun and fired.

The splash wasn't even heard as Gerrard flew back into the watery roadway, his hands clutching at the air then flopping beside his still body.

"He never drew, Harlan." Link said coming out and supporting his friend.

"Too bad for him." The effort finally took its toll and Harlan collapsed.

******

"How is he?" Myrna stood back as the doc left the room where Harlan was laid up.

"He's strong, should be okay. I got the bullet out and plugged the hole. Lost more blood than he needed to." The doc shook his head and patted her arm.

"Can I see him?"

"Nothin' to see, Myrna. Let him rest." He closed the door and headed down the stairs to the saloon. Myrna followed.

The Chinese girls were all huddled around Dawn at one table and Myrna went over, manufacturing a smile.

"Doc says he'll be fine. Just needs to rest." She saw Dawn's eyes close and her breath slow. "Soon as he's able, you can take him some soup, Dawn. I'll let you know.

Myrna touched her shoulder then walked away. Her own thoughts about Harlan crumbling and washing away from internal tears. Link came in and stamped his feet at the door then called to her.

"How is he?"

She repeated the doc's words then headed for the bar. "Join me in a drink?"

"You don't sound relieved."

"Oh, I am. I am." Her eyes drifted to Dawn's table and she felt Link staring at her.

"You feeling cut out, Myrna?"

"What do you know about it?" She turned back and saw the same scene in the bar mirror.

"Not a lot, I guess. Just know when a friend hurts."

Her head dropped and he placed a light hand on her back. "Harlan likes you a lot, Myrna, and as a friend you couldn't do better, but she has touched him somewhere the rest of us can't."

"I know. I knew it the moment you brought them back here. It's just- just . . . ah, hell, I couldn't settle with one man anyway."

Link clinked his glass to hers and they shared tired smiles.

******

Harlan sat on the edge of the bed pressing a hand against his bandage. He took deep breathes and felt satisfied with the results. A week in bed had made him restless but feeling much better.

"It better, Harlan?" Dawn sat beside him her hand on his leg.

"Yeah, I think I'm gonna live." He stared into her worried face and smiled.

"How about you, Dawn. You deserve a lot better than cookin' in a saloon. What about your family?"

"My family here now. Friends need me."

"You mean the girls? You aren't responsible for them, Dawn−"

"It is matter of honour, Harlan. They have nobody else."

"But what can you do? They have jobs now. They earn some money. Can't they look after themselves?"

"Harlan, you say I deserve better than cooking in saloon. Girls need better too. They still very young; no chance for better life here."

"Better'n what they had." He pouted.

"But not better than what they could have, Harlan." She took his hand and pulled him close and seconds later Harlan forgot about his pain, the girls and the fact that they were sitting on a bed.