June carried the hot dish to the table and pushed a large serving spoon into the contents. Her smile was fragile, and she rested a hand on her husband's shoulder.

"Looks mighty invitin', Mrs. Connor."

"Let Lois serve you some, Galen, and June will do." The smile lit then vanished as she turned back to the counter.

"It's my leg, not my hands, ma'am." He chuckled, taking the plateful from Lois. "Best help your father."

James sat still at the head of the table. The doctor had treated him as well as he could, stating that James had a concussion and, depending how bad it was, he could be a while getting back to his normal self. That last was said with a shade of caution.

A knock at the door caused June to gasp aloud and, with an apologetic look to Galen, Lois went to answer.

"It's Sheriff Freeman. Come in, Sheriff."

"Didn't mean to interrupt your meal, folks." He glanced at the big dish on the table. "Just wanted you to know your money is safe in the bank, in your account, and it's yours to use whenever for whatever."

"There shouldn't have been any trouble." Galen said from the table.

"Well," Abner took off his hat and looked at Galen, "seems that Preston fella you told me about was tryin' to claim the draft was counterfeit, and that the money should be seized."

Galen frowned and patted his food with his fork. "That man just can't be wrong or satisfied."

"Don't matter now. It's all settled and the money is yours for sure." Abner turned back to the family.

"Sheriff, have you eaten? We have plenty if you'd care to join us."

"Oh, I- I . . . well it shore does look invitin'." He dropped his hat on the chair back and sat next to James. "Mighty grateful, Ma'am."

June's smile reappeared, and she sat on the other side of her husband, next to her daughter. Gripping each of their hands, she said a private prayer and then joined in the meal.

➰➰➰➰➰

Galen leaned against the wall in the sheriff's office, waiting for him to finish reading the letter from the bank, confirming the disposition of the Connor's money.

"Looks official to me." He folded it and stood, handing it to Galen. "This what you wanted?"

"Yep. A little official goes a long way when it carries bank stamps and signatures."

"So you're goin' all the way back to Pine Ridge to face this Preston fella?"

"Sheriff, I've been wanderin' this land for a lot of years now, and it seems to be somethin' I was cut out to do. I've had a lot of adventures over my life, met a lot of folks. Some nice and some not so. But I find that no matter where I ride, somethin' that needs to be done finds me - good, bad or otherwise."

"And this is somethin' you figure needs to be done." Abner stuck out a hand.

"Yup, it's the right thing to do."

"Best of luck to you, Mr. Helliwell. It was pleasure meetin' you."

➰➰➰➰➰

A return trip to the mining camp for a night allowed Galen to recount the tale of the men, he learned, had visited these men threatening trouble. Stoddard allowed as how the Roan, while being a fine animal, really wasn't up to the requirements around their mining business. Galen offered to buy it back and was told it was his, no payment necessary. The fact that Rance and his boys were taken care of was payment enough.

The stage depot was busy when he arrived, but he recognized the man he spoke to on his way south, and managed to get some feed for the horses and himself.

"The next stage to Pine Ridge comes through here tomorrow bright and early. Might get you to your destination faster than your horse - and you could sleep. You look plumb strung out."

"That's an invitn' offer. What would it cost - that and a night here?"

"Stage is ten cents a mile plus a dollar for meals at the stations. To Pine Ridge would prob'ly cost you around seven dollars."

"That include my horses?"

"Long as them's your only baggage. I think they'd take a saddle up top without charge if I spoke to them."

"Sounds good, and I'd be real obliged."

The following morning Galen was waiting with his gear and a very annoyed Stanley. It always amazed him how his horse seemed to have human emotions and understood when to use them. He had explained, while wiping him down and making sure both he and the Roan were fed and watered, that it would be much easier than carrying himself and the saddle.

The stage rolled in, arrangements were made, and Galen climbed aboard, surprised to find two women and one other man.

"Ladies." He tipped his hat. "Mister." He accepted the nods and polite smiles, then settled himself in the corner, pulled his hat down and closed his eyes. He knew the first several miles were over pretty flat country, and that sleep would be a lot harder farther on.

The first stop was just after sunset, a long day's journey, and Galen was looking after his horses.

"You managed to sleep almost the entire trip. I can't, for the life of me, imagine how."

The voice was soft and confident and Galen turned to find the older of the two women passengers, leaning on the coral rail studying him.

"Just the product of a guiltless conscience I guess." He looked at what he was doing, smiling to himself.

"Very good, Mr. . . .?"

He finished what he was doing and leaned on the rail facing her. "Helliwell, ma'am. Galen Helliwell. And you are?"

"Lydia St. Clair, a pleasure - Galen."

"Well, Miss Lydia St. Clair, what other observations do you have to offer, or was that the only choice? Did I snore, or talk in my sleep? Anything else we might get squared out?"

His delivery wasn't angry or annoyed, just straight, calm questions, and he was struck by the woman's composure.

"Had either of those happened, I assure you, you would have been wakened - abruptly."

Galen looked down and kicked at the ground. "Maybe that would have been a good thing. All this would have been finished, and offering to buy you a drink would have been when we had more time."

"I still wouldn't say no." Her smile was like sunshine suddenly, and Galen felt a hard tug at how long he had enjoyed the solitary company of a pretty woman.

"Then by all means." He offered his arm, and they walked back to the depot.

The solitary company ended pretty quick, when the only table was already taken by the other two passengers and the stage shotgun rider. Galen found an extra chair and held it for Lydia, standing beside her and holding his glass up in a friendly toast.

"Mr. Helliwell, this is Mrs. Homestead, and Mr. Braun. I'm sorry, I don't know your name, Sir." She smiled at the other man.

"Duffy'll do, ma'am. Pleasure, Mister." He raised his glass to Galen and drank."

"You going all the way to Pine Ridge, Mr. Helliwell?" Braun asked.

"I am, and you, Sir?"

"Indeed. Important business. I'm with the county land registry office."

Galen's eyebrows rose, and he covered his surprise, sipping his drink. "Pretty busy these days out here, I expect."

"You don't know the half of it, Sir. And a lot of it not within the law. Takes serious investigation to sort some of these claims out. Why just recently--"

"Stage is leavin'. On board if you please." The driver hollered in the door.

Braun scurried out ahead of the others and Galen stared after him, wondering what he was going to say, and was this just a big coincidence. He felt a hand slide around his arm, and his attention was pulled away by the smile of Lydia St. Clair. Mrs. Homestead sat grim -mouthed, eyes fixed on the passing landscape, fingers twisting the ring on her finger. Braun tried to read some papers from a small case he carried, sniffing and huffing loudly over every bounce.

The stage jarred on the leather throughbraces, and the passengers all copied the motion, side to side, up and down, as the team hauled it over the rugged country.

"Thank goodness the stage isn't full," Lydia remarked, "we'd be in one another's laps."

Mrs. Homestead faced her with puckered eyebrows, but didn't respond. Galen covered his face and smiled, feeling a nudge from Lydia's hand. He chose to ask as question of Braun, rather than encourage the obvious flirtation.

"You started to tell us about a case you recently worked, Mr. Braun."

A pleased look came over his face, and the papers went away as he rubbed his hands together. "Yes. Yes, it is a most unusual case. It involves a bank draft."