"What drives you to do all those things, Galen? What do you get out of it?" Lydia lay sideways facing him, her fingers walking gently over his bare chest.

"I don't look for them. Things just happen. But when They do, I like to see them through. Walkin' away from life isn't in me."

"But all the violence and the danger . . ."

He drew in a deep breath and trapped her fingers with his hand. "It isn't all violent, or even dangerous. I've done plenty of things that just helped folks that needed a hand."

"You are a mystery, Galen Helliwell."

"After last night, I didn't figure there'd be a whole lot left to know."

Her laugh was throaty, and a smooth leg slid up over his. "I don't know that you're tapped out completely . . . yet."

He moved her away and turned to face her. "Yeah, well right now I feel that I am. Besides, I want to ask you some things."

"What things?"

"What you're gonna do now that this saloon job is a bust. Are you gonna stick around here? Will you go somewhere else?"

"It's all happened so suddenly I haven't even thought about that. This was going to be my big break." Her smile turned sad.

"There must be other towns, other places that would appreciate your talent."

"Not so far. And I've spent pretty much all I had making this trip." She looked into his eyes. "Oh, I could get work easy enough, Galen. You know that - just not what I really wanted to do."

"Would you consider taggin' along with a drifter?" The last was said as he cupped her cheek with his hand, staring into her eyes.

Lydia's mouth opened but nothing came out. Her face showed a range of emotion that caused him to smile, and she held his hand against her face.

"You're sweet, Galen, but I'm not one of those life stories you can't walk away from."

"Nope, you're one I don't want to walk away from - I want to walk away with."

"That's not just this talking, is it?" Her hand waved over the bed.

"No, ma'am." He took her hand and held it against his chest. "It's this talkin' . . . real loud."

➰➰➰➰➰

The sheriff stood in the doorway to the cells, arms supported on either frame and head down, as he listened to an irate Dieter Preston threaten him, along with every member of the town council.

"You'll have your day, Preston. The judge is reading all the statements and my report now. Tomorrow some time, you'll get to tell your story."

"You bet I have a story! A story that'll rip all you backstabbing phony citizens out by the roots!"

"If you say so." He dropped his arms and pulled the door shut, cutting off more of Preston's diatribe. He hung the keys on a hook behind his desk, put some papers into his desk drawer, checked the clock, and went out to make his evening rounds.

Preston sat slumped in his cell, his mind pumping out one useless idea after another for his situation. He was done, and he knew it. But he wasn't going alone. Pine Ridge would rue the day they messed with Dieter Preston. The sound of the jail door opening got him primed for another tirade.

"Come back to tell me you made a mistake, Sheriff?" He yelled.

The door opened and three men wearing kerchiefs over their faces came into the cell room.

"What's this?" Preston backed away from the bars. One man stayed by the door and the other two went to the cell. "What's goin' on? Sheriff, what the hell is this? Sheriff!" He stepped up onto the bunk, shaking his good fist, as the cell door opened and the two men entered.

"Keep away from me! Don't you touch me!"

The men grabbed his arms and he started yelling louder, fear and pain suddenly replacing the bravado.

"A vote was taken, Preston." The rope slipped over his head and choked off his screams, then it began tightening as the men looped it over the door and yanked him off his feet. They held on against his thrashing and kicking until his tongue protruded from his mouth and his limbs went slack. Tying it off so his feet were still off the ground, the trio slipped out, closing the office door behind them.

➰➰➰➰➰

"Poor sheriff, the mayor has been taking strips off his hide all morning over Preston's lynching." Edward finished placing fresh antimacassars on the lobby chairs, and plumping cushions.

"That ain't really fair. He has a whole town to look after by himself." Galen finished paying for his stay, and for the horse's stabling.

"He should have locked the door." Edward offered.

"Son, if folks are heated up enough to lynch a fella, a simple lock ain't gonna stop them."

Lydia came down the stairs with her satchel, and set it on the floor, extracting a few bills from her handbag.

"You have a lovely hotel here, Edward. I enjoyed it very much."

"Your room's been paid for, ma'am." Edward slid his eyes toward Galen. "Sorry about the work, Miss St Clair. Sure could have used a lovely voice such as yours around here."

"You're very kind, Edward." She sighed and turned a smile on Galen. "Mr. Helliwell, how very gallant of you. My thanks."

"My pleasure. Ready when you are." He grabbed her bag and opened the door. "So long, Edward."

Galen placed the bags in the back of the carriage, then tied Stanley on behind. The Roan was harnessed to pull the carriage, and seemed unfazed at having to do so.

"One thing puzzles me, Galen. I don't wish to appear rude but-  well, you seem to be quite well off . . . I mean, you didn't have this carriage when we arrived, and paying my bills . . ."

He snapped the reins and the carriage jerked to a start. "You want to know where I get my money."

"Since I've agreed to join your travelling adventures . . . uhm, yes."

"Tell me something, Lydia. Do you have things you keep to yourself that are not meant for anyone else?"

"You mean like secrets?"

"Yes, I suppose. Is there something about you, you would never tell me?"

Her face pinked, and she wiped her tongue across her lips. "I imagine everybody has something they'd rather leave untouched."

"Knew you'd understand." He grinned, and nudged her with his shoulder. "Now let me tell you about a place we're headin' to."

"We are going somewhere to settle and not just drift from place to place."

"We're going to a place that you'll love, Lydia. It's clean, fresh and full of nice folks. You'll see. It's called Barrow Falls." He reached over and clasped her hand.

"And why exactly will I love this Barrow Falls?"

"Cause it's the right thing to do."

She leaned close and kissed him, gripping his hand in both of hers.

END