Reactions and Transformations

Julia Verinder

- 1 -

Vin roughly shoved townspeople out of his way as he strode towards the jail. For once, he was entirely in agreement with them. He had no idea why he and his six friends were not already on the trail of the bastards that had left a man dead after a brutal assault in one of the alleys of their town. The victim had been a law-abiding visitor: polite, friendly and, most important, unarmed. Vin's inspection of the dust around the corpse testified that five men had administered the fatal beating, which made it cold-blooded murder in his book. Following hot on Chris's heels as his friend steered the dead man's sister into the jail, he slammed the door fiercely behind him.

'What's this all about?' Chris demanded without hesitation. 'Your brother's dead and you don't seem to want us to do anything about it.'

That was the precisely the question Vin wanted answered and so he said nothing.

He studied the woman, something he'd done a lot in recent weeks but his motives then had been entirely different. Many times she had laughed her soft, musical laugh when she caught him staring at her again. 'Like what you see?' she would tease, only to blush charmingly when he assured her that he liked it very much. He meant it, too. Not that she was beautiful because she wasn't: her long, straight nose would have looked better on a man and her jawline was also on the firm side for a woman. He recalled his surprise when she frankly drew his attention to those defects. With typical honesty, he hadn't argued, telling her instead that she had pretty eyes and an even prettier voice. He could have done a lot better than that for a compliment, indeed he had in his head many times, but he felt foolish saying such flowery words aloud.

She was looking down, refusing to meet his eye. He paced the room angrily, wanting to shake some sense into her but restrained by the knowledge of how mortified she would be by such a crude assault. It wasn't the first time he'd been inhibited by her breeding and by his own inexperience of the expectations of such a woman but now uncertainty combined with frustration to make him angrier than he had a right to be.

'Why won't you trust me?' he demanded, letting his tone betray his growing fury.

He caught Chris's sideways glance at him. His friendship with the woman, Helena Danforth, was no secret - there was no reason why it should be - and it was only natural that it should make Chris doubt his objectivity when it came to enforcing the law on this occasion.

'It's not a question of trust,' she said, still staring at the floorboards.

'What is it then?'

Her deep, unsteady sigh revealed her sorrow and misery more clearly than words could ever do. 'If you bring these men back for trial, they will say why they did what they did. When they do, people won't care any more. Neither will you.'

Her words caught him off-guard. He was about to tell her it was hogwash when he realized that her brother, Charles, might have deserved what had befallen him. The man had spent far more time with Ezra than with Vin and, in any case, he'd only been in town a matter of weeks. Without knowing what he'd done, how could Vin judge? He stuck to the only thing he could be sure of.

'You don't know that.'

'I have a good idea. Why won't you trust me, Vin?'

She was right. He didn't trust her to make this judgment on his behalf. How could she know what he would think and what right did she have to presume that she could? He threw up his hands in frustration and turned away. Behind him, Chris persisted with the job they were paid to do.

'But you say it wasn't in revenge for something he did?'

'Not in the way you mean.'

Vin heard Chris's exasperation, which almost matched his own. 'Why won't you tell us? You have our word it won't go outside this room without your permission. You can't let them walk away from this.'

Helena was silent. Looking over his shoulder, Vin saw that it was no longer in flat refusal to answer. She was considering Chris's words. He waited. If she refused this time, he knew it would be final. When she began to twist the handkerchief she was holding, he knew she was looking for a way to speak of the matter that she believed justified murder. She began slowly.

'A man was beaten to death in the same way in a town we left about two months ago.'

She looked up at him for a moment but immediately dropped her gaze back to the floor. In those hazel eyes he thought so pretty, he saw a complex blend of emotions that he could not fully interpret. Among them was fear, of him or perhaps of what he would think of her revelation.

'The man was a friend of Charles… a close friend.'

She drew a shaky breath.

'This is about how Charles was, not about something he did.' She glanced at Chris, and then added, 'At least, it's about something he did with someone, rather than to someone.'

When Vin met Chris's eye, he saw the same confusion there as he felt himself. Men were often killed for no better reason than who they were - they'd saved Nathan from just such a fate - but Charles was white, wealthy and well-educated. Vin wasn't aware of too many groups that had a problem with his kind. As he returned his attention to Helena, he saw she was watching them and knew she was going to have to spell out her meaning more clearly than that. Her cheeks grew pink.

'Are you aware...' she spoke more quietly than ever, '... that some men aren't interested in women… in the conventional sense?'

Vin couldn't see the relevance of the question. With women in such short supply in the west, what man would care if another chose not to take a wife? It only left more brides for those who wanted them.

Helena closed her eyes, as if that would hide her from their gaze. 'There was a fire in the town. The hotel had to be cleared quickly. Charles wasn't alone - he was with this man.'

Suddenly realizing what she was driving at, Vin wondered how he could have been so stupid. He wasn't naïve but felt as if he'd been acting it. He looked uneasily at Chris, surprised to find himself embarrassed on top of everything else. It was a small grain of comfort to read the same awkwardness in his friend. Chris shifted his weight, looked as if he were going to say something but then remained silent.

Helena gave a small, resigned nod. 'Yes, I am saying what you think I'm saying.'

Chris leaned heavily on the table. Finding his own legs suddenly weak, Vin dropped into a chair.

'Now perhaps you see what I mean,' Helena said sadly. 'It won't do Charles any good and I can tell you now it may do me a lot of harm. Things got out of hand once before, many years ago.' She unbuttoned the high collar of her blouse and revealed an old rope-weal around her neck before quickly refastening it. 'People can become very worked up over other people's business.'

Vin cleared his throat, trying to find some saliva to lubricate his voice.

'They tried to hang you because of him?'

She nodded. 'As far as they were concerned, he was the Devil incarnate and I was helping him in his evil work.'

With little by way of faith, Vin thought that so much nonsense but it was a predictable enough response, folk being the way they were. 'Why couldn't he just… stop?' he asked. 'Didn't he care about you at all?'

Her eyes moistened. 'He loved me as much as I loved him. He rarely became involved, and then always with the utmost discretion. This was simply an unfortunate and unforeseeable turn of events.' For the first time since they found Danforth's body, she looked him directly in the eye. 'I wonder, if positions were reversed, how long your friend Buck would stay away from the ladies.'

'That ain't the same thing.'

'Really?'

'That's...'

He'd been going to say 'natural' but the word died on his lips. He'd spent as much time with wild animals as he had with people and, contrary to most white folks' belief, what Helena alluded to so delicately was perfectly natural. Most of them would be appalled to see what went on in a bachelor group of buffalo, denied access to cows and full of the frustration that brought. Too confused to know what to say, he said nothing.

After a long silence, Chris nodded towards the crowd outside.

'It doesn't matter one way or the other, Vin. She's right about telling them.'

Looking through the dusty window, Vin couldn't argue with that.

'What the hell are we gonna tell them?'

Helena dabbed at a tear that had finally spilled from one eye. 'I hate to say this but perhaps it would be best if you said it was revenge of some sort. Whatever you think necessary to explain what happened.'

Vin saw that Chris looked almost as uncomfortable with that as he felt.

'I ain't so sure I can lie about a dead man, even…'

'Even one like him?' Helena finished his sentence. 'Oh, Vin.' She shook her head and walked out on them, closing the door softly behind her and passing wretchedly through the mob that parted before her.

Knowing that he'd disappointed her, Vin rubbed his hand despairingly over his forehead. After a chance meeting in the livery stable when she was hiring a horse, he had spent a lot of time with her. He had no idea what the elegant Englishwoman, with her refined voice and genteel manners, saw in him but he'd been surprised to find her company among the most agreeable he'd known. Whether they walked or rode, talked or just sat, he had enjoyed every minute with her until now.

'Hell,' he growled

At some point during Helena's explanation, Chris had also sat down. Now they stared into space while they reflected on it. Eventually, Chris announced his conclusion.

'I reckon we can't even tell the others. Not to mention that I gave her our word.'

'Hell,' Vin said again. He felt torn apart, not sure which he hated more, lying to his friends or finding that he himself was not immune to the intolerance that they expected to find in others.

'Let's keep it short,' Chris decided. 'An old debt being repaid, nothing to do with Helena.'

Vin nodded, suddenly tired of it all. He let Chris deal with the crowd, who were reluctant to disperse at first but eventually accepted that the attackers posed no threat to them. That, he reflected sourly, was all most decent people cared about in the end. He led the way to the saloon and brusquely demanded a bottle of whiskey from Inez. He and Chris were halfway down it by the time their friends joined them.

Ezra was obviously speaking for all when he asked, 'You wouldn't be holding out on us, would you gentlemen? It is unprecedented for us to allow a man to be beaten to death on the streets of our town without administering any penalty.'

Vin sank another shot and stared fixedly at the table, while Chris drummed his fingers on its battered wooden surface. These were men who knew how to mind their own business but, charged as they were with protecting Four Corners, they weren't out of line in asking why they were now being told to do nothing. Danforth had shared Ezra's fondness for, and skill in, card games and they had battled through the night on several occasions. Ezra's expectation that they would seek out the man's killers was predictable but his reaction to their reasons for not doing so was less easy to judge.

Chris said only, 'We gave our word.'

When Ezra made to reply, Vin stood up abruptly and cut him off.

'Believe me, you don't wanna know.'

As he strode out of the saloon, he heard what followed.

'Can we assume Mr. Tanner would rather not have known whatever it is you are sworn not to reveal.'

'You can. He's right. Let it go.'

While he saddled his horse, Vin pondered that exchange. With no way of knowing whether Chris was as easy with their decision as he sounded, he felt alone in his confusion and uncertainty. Ezra was right that he would rather not have known Danforth's secret but he wasn't proud of the fact. He was far from sure that it was right for him to feel that way or for a murder to go unpunished just because the dead man had some strange tastes. Worst of all, he knew that by leaving town he was running away but knowing that did not stop him riding out.

 

Two days later, Chris was playing poker with Buck and Ezra when JD joined them in the saloon.

'Anyone seen Vin?'

Chris shook his head.

'You sure he'll be okay?'

'He can take care of himself.' Chris spoke gruffly but then relented at the concern he saw in the youngster's face. 'He's avoiding Helena and that ain't no one's business but his own.'

Buck said, 'I thought you said what happened had nothing to do with her.'

Chris said nothing.

'Skeletons in the family closet?' Ezra prompted.

Still Chris said nothing. He disliked lying as much as Vin and so that left silence as his strategy of choice. Knowing how astute Ezra was, and guessing that he was as worldly wise as Buck or himself, he suspected that it would take only the most oblique hint to betray Danforth's secret. Had he wanted to, Chris could have revealed the truth without actively breaking his word but he saw nothing to be gained from doing so.

 

For her part, Helena was undecided what to do next. She had never relied on Danforth for protection in a literal sense but a woman traveling with her brother drew far less unwelcome attention than a woman traveling alone. Unable to choose between continuing to California as they had planned and going back East as she thought more prudent, she did nothing.

She was deeply disappointed by Vin's disappearance. Although his reaction was not a complete surprise, the respect he showed to the Indians had led her to hope for more from him than from other men. Most hurtful was the discovery that his affection for her had been so fragile. She lay dejectedly on her bed, books unread and food uneaten, failing miserably to put him out of her mind.

 

It might have comforted Helena to know that Vin was failing equally badly in his attempts to forget her. He wandered aimlessly through the open country, sometimes trying to tell himself that she had been bad news from the start and sometimes that her brother's choice in bedmates had nothing to do with her. It was only after many such cycles that he began to ask himself why Danforth's choice of bedmates should have anything to do with him either. He was not a judgmental man and it was the first time that he'd had to confront a prejudice that shamed him. He had no experience to help him work through the feelings swirling around inside him.

'Vin!'

He started at the sound and then recognized the voice. For a moment, he was tempted to gallop off without acknowledging the greeting but saw that for the cowardice it was. One thing was certain: he couldn't afford to be wandering around in a daze, not hearing riders coming up behind him. He twisted in his saddle to see a lone rider jogging briskly towards him. He waited until the man came closer before speaking.

'Hey, Chanu.'

The young Indian smiled but then frowned. They'd run into each other a few times after Vin helped to clear him of the murder of his white wife and, finding the casual acquaintance pleasurable, Vin had let it deepen into friendship. Now Chanu knew him well enough to read his frame of mind.

'You look troubled, my friend.'

Vin considered possible replies but settled for a nod.

'Is it the kind of trouble that can be helped by words?'

Vin smiled. One of the things he liked about Indians was their acceptance of fate. White folk always felt the need to say something, even if words made matters worse. They came out with pointless phrases that made them feel better but did nothing to help the person who was suffering. But some kinds of trouble needed to be dealt with and, if a man couldn't deal with his own demons, sometimes he needed help. After two days wrestling with his thoughts, Vin supposed he was coming around to the idea that this was one of those times. Past experience told him that Chanu might, just might, be a better sounding-board than his white friends when it came to this particular problem. He nodded and turned his horse off the trail. He said nothing until they were settled in the shade of a tree, thirst slaked and horses grazing. Chanu waited with no sign of hurry or impatience. Chewing on a stem of grass, Vin stared at his boot. He decided to start generally, with something he'd seen in other tribes.

'Among your people, can a man live like a woman if he wants to?'

Chanu was too slow to hide his surprise at the question. Vin saw the connections he was making and felt a brief flash of anger before realizing that it was just the kind of feeling over which he was trying to gain some control.

Chanu nodded. 'Yes, but...' He seemed to decide against voicing his thoughts.

Vin tried to lighten the mood. His smile was tense and he knew it didn't really come off but Chanu looked a little easier for the effort. 'Don't worry. I ain't thinkin' on a switch myself.'

'I could not truly picture that,' Chanu admitted.

'It's jus' that I seen it in other tribes,' Vin went on. 'Matter of fact, I guess it's the only place I have seen it.'

'I know what your people think.'

Vin knew from the hate-filled scowl where Chanu had heard the white man's philosophy.

'Mosely?'

Chanu nodded.

'Reckon you know I ain't one of that breed.'

Chanu nodded again.

'Trouble is,' Vin admitted, 'I ain't feeling I'm too much better right now.'

'You have met a man of that kind?' Chanu guessed.

It was Vin's turn to nod.

'Truth to tell, he's dead 'cause of it. I didn't have no hand in that but I can't say I'm as put out by what happened as I oughta be.'

Chanu smiled, the warm smile of a caring friend.

'You set yourself a high standard as always, my friend. We cannot always be masters of our feelings.'

Vin returned the smile, appreciating the attempt to comfort him.

'Why does it matter what you feel?' Chanu prompted. 'I know you - your actions will be fair, whatever you feel.'

Vin considered the question, unsure of the answer. 'I ain't never had no time for folk minding other folks' business. Don't like to see myself doin' it now.'

Chanu nodded. 'It is good to judge ourselves more harshly than we judge others. I think our people agree on that.' He paused before prompting again, 'And...?'

Although what he had said was true, Vin knew that Chanu was right to think that there was more to his soul-searching than that.

'It's kinda personal too,' he conceded.

'This man... wanted...?'

It took a couple of seconds for Vin to see what Chanu was hinting at.

'Hell, no!'

The words could have been judgmental but all Vin really felt was surprise. It hadn't crossed his mind until then that he might have discovered Danforth's secret in a more direct way.

'Hell,' he repeated more softly, 'Maybe I woulda had a hand in what happened if it'd gone that way.'

Chanu laughed. 'You had not thought of it.'

This time Vin's smile was more genuine.

'Nope. You sure gotta way of showing a man how things coulda been worse.'

'So why is it personal?'

'Man had a sister. I... we...'

'You were close and now, because of this, you are not?'

'That's about the size of it. Reckon she feels I let her down when she needed me to do better.'

'Perhaps you did.'

'Well, Chanu, that's a mighty big comfort.'

'Is it not for a friend to speak the truth?'

'Could use a little sugar-coating on the pill right now.'

'Then perhaps this woman also let you down. This is a difficult thing for a man... and not just for a white man. It is the way of my people that such a man must make a choice. As you say, he lives with the women and there is no going back. Your people make him hide but that can be harder for other men. You believe the men around you to be like yourself and you find they are not. Does that not make a kind of fear?'

Vin said nothing, recognizing that he had felt a kind of fear at the thought of a man who was not a man moving among them, looking at them in a way they didn't expect and weren't guarding against.

'Do not be so hard on yourself, Vin. When something like this happens, it takes time for us to find our balance. You will find yours. Is this woman still in your town?'

'Yeah.'

'Then I think you should return to her. Find your balance together. Perhaps this has not always been easy for her either.'

Recalling the weal on Helena's neck, Vin felt a stab of shame.

'No, I know for a fact that it ain't.'

'But love has power.' Chanu studied him for a moment before adding, 'Love for a brother or...'

Vin nodded. 'You're right. I don't know why I've been out here when I shoulda been back there.'

He got to his feet and hastily put his horse's bridle back on.

'Thanks, Chanu. It's lucky I ran into you.'

'The spirits walk with you, my friend. They send help when it is needed.'

Just for a moment, Vin felt something of the peace in which men of faith lived their lives. He didn't really believe what Chanu said but, on the other hand, what were the odds of running into just the right friend at just the right time in such a vast landscape? Who knew?

Only a few hours after parting from Chanu, he slipped into town unnoticed and went straight to the hotel to see Helena. Giving his usual soft tap at the door, he felt the wood move under his knuckles. He stood warily to one side, drew his gun and pushed the door open. His heart missed a beat as he saw the empty room in disarray. The brushes and bottles that had been swept from the dressing table to the floor testified to a struggle and two sizable dents in the door frame indicated that Helena had continued to fight at least until then. He holstered his gun and felt the carpet beside the empty bottles. The scents would have dried within minutes but the pile was damp where a glass had fallen. The havoc was recent.

He strode into the saloon, his pace attracting the attention of everyone present, and spoke as soon as he reached the table where Chris, Buck and Ezra were once again playing poker.

'Any of you seen Helena?'

All three shook their heads. 'Something wrong?' Chris asked.

'Her room's been turned over and she's gone.'

Without another word, they followed him back to the hotel and surveyed the damage. Chris soon got things moving, sending Ezra to interview people around the hotel and Buck to find the others. Only then did he look closely at Vin.

'You back?'

Vin knew what he was asking. When there was trouble, they had to be able to depend on each other. He nodded. 'Ran into Chanu while I was away. He helped me get some things straight in my head.' Wanting to know where Chris stood, he bounced the question back. 'You?'

Chris shrugged. 'It's a free country, so they tell me. Can't say I like it but it seems to me he wasn't bothering no one.'

The tacit admission that Chris wouldn't have wanted to be propositioned by Danforth seemed to support Chanu's assertion that most men found the whole thing as tough as Vin had.

'Yeah, that's pretty much how I figured it too.'

They used their remaining time alone to inspect the room more closely but turned up nothing of any value. Their other friends came upstairs just as Ezra returned, shaking his head.

'No one seems to have seen or heard anything but it would be easy enough to slip out the back without drawing attention.'

'So.' Buck looked round the group. 'Are we planning to do something this time?'

Vin shot him a fierce glare before feeling Chris's hand rest comfortingly on his shoulder.

'Ain't no good beating yourself up about this, Vin.'

'Wouldn't have happened if I'd been here, would it?'

'You don't know that. Anyhow, you couldn't have known they'd come back'

'Couldn't I?' He gave Chris a meaningful stare. 'Ain't like she didn't tell us how it might go.'

Their friends shuffled uneasily and it was Ezra who once again spoke for them.

'Is it absolutely essential we be kept in the dark about whatever it is that's going on here?'

Vin ignored him. 'Let's move out. The longer we leave it…' He left the thought unspoken.

'Hold up a minute,' Chris said slowly. 'Let's think about this. Are we aiming to bring 'em back? Seems to me, that gives us the same problem we had before. And if we're not…'

Vin's emotions immediately boiled up again. 'If you ain't up for it, I'll take care of it myself.'

'I didn't say that.'

Chris's voice was soothing but Vin read the warning in his eye: the situation was tricky enough without him making it harder. He turned away, forcing himself to rein in his flaring temper and leaving Chris to handle the others.

'It doesn't matter what this is about. Most folks'd likely say Danforth got what was coming to him but all his sister's done is stand by him. If there was a line somewhere, they sure as hell crossed it tonight.'

Josiah looked pensive. 'So you're asking us to ride after these men, kill 'em and forget anything we hear.'

'I'm not asking you to do nothing, Josiah, but I reckon that's about what it'll amount to. Anyone who wants out may as well say so now. I'm not gonna be judging.'

There was some stamping and coughing before Buck eventually said, 'No disrespect, Vin, but I know you're partial to the lady. Chris, you see this whole thing the same way he does?'

Chris chewed his lip uncomfortably but finally nodded.

'Wish I could think of a way around it but I can't.'

So it was that, in the end, they all rode out after Helena's abductors. Vin thought he knew pretty well where each man stood on the matter. Buck would never leave a woman undefended, Ezra was still dissatisfied with their lack of action over the murder, and JD trusted their judgment. Josiah and Nathan were both uneasy with the task but unwilling to turn their backs on Helena, whatever the circumstances. He was far less sure where they would stand on Danforth's personal life, if it became known to them. He had trouble picturing Buck or Ezra in a faint over any vice but thought Nathan and JD might be more easily shocked. The one he worried most about was Josiah, fearing that this particular issue might reveal him more akin to Mosely than Vin could bear to see. He had never yet seen that kind of religious fervor in the former preacher but knew that he would share some of Helena's disappointment if he saw it now.

He had no difficulty in following the men's trail, even by the dim light of a half moon. As before, there were five sets of hoof-prints - quite a posse to take one woman - and a couple of distinctive features led him to think that they were probably the same five men as had murdered their captive's brother.

Buck remarked, 'Even I could follow this trail. They don't seem worried about being tracked.'

Chris said only, 'Reckon we told 'em that loud and clear last time.'

An hour later, Vin dismounted and inspected a snapped branch on a succulent. Sap still oozed from the fracture, telling him they were close behind their prey. His only comfort was that he had seen no evidence that the men had stopped to enjoy their prize. As far as he could tell, Helena was still alive and probably unharmed. He held on to the hope that they could intervene before either of those things changed.

He said only, 'Not half an hour ahead.'

The accuracy of his estimate was quickly confirmed, when they saw the glow of a fire perhaps a quarter of a mile ahead. They closed the distance by half and then dismounted to cover the rest of the ground on foot. Usually such a patient man, Vin had rarely struggled so hard to control his eagerness to get on. They needed to make the most of the element of surprise, surrounding the clearing before closing in and making sure that they did nothing to cause her captors to harm her.

As he worked his way stealthily forward, he remembered another time when they had freed a captive who had personal resonance for him. That had been different in two respects. Firstly, although he had already been entranced by Charlotte Richmond, O'Shea's men snatched her before their relationship developed beyond mutual attraction - he had not at that point felt the same emotional attachment to her that he now did to Helena. Secondly, he had not blamed himself for what happened to Charlotte - his anger at her husband had protected him from the recriminations that he now directed at himself for leaving Helena without protection at a time when he should have known that it might be needed. He tried to distance himself from his turmoil, fully aware that success depended on present actions and not past mistakes.

They were in good time. As he crept forward, he saw Helena being unceremoniously pulled from a horse and thrown to the ground. Her eyes blazed with fury, leaving no room for fear. She was gagged and her hands were tied in front of her but she was soon making good use of her feet to kick any man who came close enough. One of the kidnappers finally grabbed her shoulders from behind while another pulled down the gag.

'Well, now,' the second one said. 'We figured we'd come back and teach you something about real men.'

She spat in his face and, leaning back against his friend behind her, landed both feet squarely in his groin. Buck looked at Chris and gave a pained expression, followed by a grin. Vin thought he might have put his money on Helena winning a fight if the odds were fairer. The man went down, moaning. His companion shifted his grip to Helena's neck but, before he could tighten it, she bit him and broke free. Within seconds though, more men descended on her. They soon had her pinned down and, although she still struggled, he saw her resignation. She knew there was no more she could do and satisfied herself with a torrent of colorful expletives. Some of them were new to Vin and it gave him a moment's amusement to realize her vocabulary was as rich in insults as it was in more cultured conversation. Two men held her arms, while two more took her legs and pulled at her underclothes. The fifth began to unbuckle his gun-belt.

It was time for her rescuers to make their move. Vin rose up from beyond her head and leveled his gun at the man between her legs. He let the savage anger that he'd been trying so hard to control fill his voice.

'Get away from her.'

The man looked up in surprise, his fingers flickering beside his gun. His companions loosened their grip on Helena but made no other move. Vin smiled... invitingly... menacingly.

The man thought better of it. He sounded like a wronged citizen when he protested, 'Hey, this ain't what it looks like.'

'That so?'

'You don't know what this is about. We were just teaching this servant of Satan a lesson.'

'And what lesson would that be? How righteous citizens like you behave? Huh?'

He fired wide, leaving a precise nick in the man's left ear.

Hand flying to the wound, the man looked uncertain for a minute and then his doubts seemed to clear.

'You do know what this is about, don't you? Are you another one like her brother?'

The man spat the words in disgust and his reaction gave Vin a sudden understanding of where such hatred took the person who felt it. It made murder and rape seem acceptable, making the servants of God more wicked than the supposed servants of Satan. Vin wanted nothing to do with any of that, regardless of how he might feel personally about what Danforth had been doing in that hotel on that fateful night.

He was still pondering those ideas when the situation was resolved for him. Hatred overcame the man in front of him and he went for his gun. He was dead before his hand even touched it, felled by a bullet that Vin fired in self-defense with no malice and little thought beyond relief at being saved the need to make a conscious decision. There was an almost deafening explosion of fire, as Helena's other assailants followed their leader and met the consequences. Two of the bodies fell onto her.

It took Vin only a split second after the last shot to recover his composure. He quickly pulled the bodies off of Helena and used his hunting knife to cut her bonds. Helping her to a log at one side of the camp, he handed his neckerchief to her. She tried to wipe her face but her hands were shaking too badly. He took the neckerchief back and dabbed tenderly at the blood.

'I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me.'

The eyes that lifted to meet his were warm with love and forgiveness.

'You're here now, aren't you?'

He nodded, then leaned forward and touched his lips gently to hers. It was the first time he had done so. For all their closeness, he had never pressed his suit as her lover, sure that her upbringing would rule out what little he had to offer. Now, having learned how little heed she paid convention, he reassessed that judgment along with the others he had questioned since Danforth's death. Feeling her shy reciprocation of his expression of affection, he wondered if the future held more than he had thought. When he turned back to the others, they had holstered their guns and were looking at the carnage.

Buck shook his head.

'You needn't have worried, Chris. Wasn't much choice in the end after all.'

Chris nodded.

Vin was glad how it had turned out. None of them had any qualms about dispatching men in such circumstances. He kept his arm around Helena's shoulders when Buck came over.

'You all right, ma'am?'

She nodded, leaning closer to Vin as if to confirm that his intimacy was welcome.

'Thank you, gentlemen. Your timing is remarkable.'

Buck laughed. 'You weren't doing so badly without us. How does a lady like you get to know language like that?'

Helena smiled but then glanced swiftly at Chris, who shook his head almost, but not quite, imperceptibly. Buck followed the gesture, gave an equally swift glance in Ezra's direction, and then looked significantly at Helena. Only then was Vin sure that they had guessed the secret that he and Chris had kept so faithfully.

'If you don't mind my saying, ma'am, sometimes it's best to let a man's secrets die with him.'

'This may well be one of those times, Mr. Wilmington.'

She looked up at Vin and raised her eyebrows, inviting him to let them move on. He knew that he had not finished dealing with it, and suspected that he would need at some point to talk as openly with her as he had with Chanu, but he also knew that he would get past it. Somehow he would learn to accept what Danforth had been, just as Helena accepted it. He let that new-found confidence fill his light-hearted reply.

'My memory ain't what it was.'

Chris gave a grim smile before getting them on the move again. 'Let's haul these sorry specimens back to town, in case some fool comes askin' after 'em.'

 

- 2 -

'But why did they abduct Miss. Danforth?'

The dead men were now in a cell, awaiting their coffins, and Vin wished the whole matter would just go away. He knew that was not likely to happen: five deaths meant Mary would not be the only one with questions. As unwelcome as such questions were, he did not blame Mary for asking them. She had a right to be concerned, both as a resident of the town and as the editor of its newspaper. He watched Chris, respecting the man's greater experience of dealing with folk, especially white folk, and wondered what decision he would reach.

'It's personal,' Chris said.

'Surely you know by now that you can trust me?' Mary replied.

There was that word again: trust. Vin had grown to trust Mary in the time he'd known her, probably more than he'd trusted any woman since his mother, but it was hard to trust someone else with a secret that you were still uneasy with yourself. He'd seen her fairness over everything from Indian kidnappers to multiple murderers; even Wickes's working girls, though they might have stretched her liberal attitudes, had not managed to snap them. But none of those situations had tested him in the way that Helena's revelation had done, and so Mary's reactions to them did not reassure him for the present.

Chris looked at her long and hard, before repeating what Helena had told them.

'It's not a matter of trust, Mary. It hasn't done us much good knowing and I don't see it'd do you much good either. You'd be a fool to print it... and I know you're not a fool.'

Mary returned his gaze, one of few townspeople able to do so.

'Don't you think that I already have some idea what we're talking about?'

Chris did not reply. Vin knew she would have to do better than that to bluff an answer out of him.

'All right,' she went on. 'Something made these men think they had a right to kill Mr. Danforth. That same something made you think that pursuing them would only cause more trouble. It also made Miss. Danforth, in spite of her obvious affection for her brother, accept that position rather than demand justice for his murder. The dead men were sufficiently worked up about the matter to come back later and abduct her. They did not kill her here, as they had her brother, so it seems they had other plans. So far, I have come up with only two explanations. The first relates to money - a theft or a con perhaps? They might have hoped to recover the money through her in one way or another but, in that case, why such secrecy? That leaves me with the second explanation.'

Vin saw that Chris was listening closely, wondering if she had managed to discover for herself a truth that had needed to be spelled out to them.

'You may not know it,' Mary's tone became more cautious. 'But I interviewed Mr. and Miss. Danforth in the week before his death. I was intending to write an article on their impressions of America.'

Vin hadn't known that and guessed from Chris's expression that he hadn't either.

Mary drew a deep breath, clearly giving careful thought to how to make her point.

'I don't know how to say this without sounding immodest but bachelors arriving in this town are apt to show some interest in the few unattached women like myself who live here.'

She blushed faintly as she studied Chris, perhaps considering whether she needed to list the men who had sought her company, from Buck to Gerard, not to mention a federal marshal and a territorial governor. Chris gave a slight nod to concede her right to judge a man in that regard.

'Mr. Danforth was a courteous, charming and most entertaining interviewee.' She fixed her eyes on Chris. 'But he responded to me purely as a reporter.' She paused, then added another observation to the case she was building. 'Of course, it might simply have been that I am not of a type that interested him.'

Vin wondered idly whether, Danforth's kind apart, men existed who were not interested in a woman like Mary. Under the right circumstances, he couldn't see any of his friends turning down an opportunity.

'So, I watched him in his dealings with Inez. It appeared to me that she, too, was of a type that did not interest him.'

Chris looked up from the table that he had been studying while she spoke.

'If that was the way of it,' he said in a low voice. 'Do you think it would help to spread it around?'

Accepting the lack of a denial as a confirmation, Mary gave a slight shake of her head.

'No,' she admitted. 'But I wanted to know what I was turning a blind eye to, before I turned it.'

Only then did Vin realize why she was pressing them. She had a conscience to deal with, just as much as any of them. She needed to make her own judgment as to whether the town was best left in ignorance.

'I'll do whatever I can to back you up...' she told Chris decisively, '...if anyone comes.' She paused to look at Vin as she left the jail. 'Please tell Miss. Danforth... if there's anything... anything at all.'

Vin nodded. He should have known that they could depend on Mary, especially when it came to the awkward position in which Danforth's death had left Helena.

After Mary had gone, Chris sighed.

'This could get real ugly.'

'Yeah but, like Buck said, it's not like they left us much choice.'

'Talk to Helena. Find out what happened in that town. We need to know how many people knew, who they were and where the local law stands on it.'

Vin rose to his feet, letting the slightest dip of his hat brim confirm that he would do as Chris said. He went to the hotel, striding purposefully without haste or reluctance, a measure of his self-discipline more than his ease with the situation. He stood outside Helena's door for a few seconds, recalling how he'd felt when he returned from talking to Chanu to find her gone. Being involved with Helena, as friend or lover, was proving far more troublesome than he had expected but the development had done nothing to diminish his eagerness to spend time with her. He rapped lightly on the pine panel.

'Who is it?'

Helena's voice was cautious, which was understandable after her experience, but not fearful.

'Vin.'

The door opened. She was as well-groomed as ever; only the gray smudges under her eyes hinted at the restless night she must have passed after they brought her back to town. She was wearing one of Vin's favorite outfits, a deep red skirt with an ivory lace blouse, and her present vulnerability only heightened the appeal she held for him. She stepped back to let him in and then closed the door softly behind him.

He didn't ask how she was, knowing words would tell him nothing that he could not already see. Instead, he put his arms around her waist and pulled her close, feeling a surge of protectiveness as she buried her face in his shoulder. It was not so strange that Mary had been able to work out the Danforths' secret. He was aware of his own response to women, from the casual sexual attraction he felt for any reasonably attractive woman within about ten years of his own age to the more emotional longing that occasionally grew from it. If he was aware of all the tiny changes that signaled his interest, he should not be surprised that a woman as astute as Mary would witness and interpret them in her dealings with men.

'Mary Travis asked me to tell you that she'd be glad to help,' he murmured into Helena's hair. 'If there's anything she can do.'

'Did you tell her?'

'No,' he said truthfully, then added, 'She didn't need tellin'.' When Helena said nothing, he asked, 'You ain't surprised?'

'Not really. Women as beautiful as Mrs. Travis are accustomed to men reacting to them in a certain way. They are apt to notice when a man doesn't react in that way.'

Vin didn't want to pursue the point any further right then. Danforth's private life was in danger of eclipsing his own and, after coming so close to losing Helena, he was left feeling that some things needed to be said or sorted out or something. He didn't want to be insensitive to Helena's loss but nor did he want to give up the carefree companionship that they had shared until a few days earlier.

'What about a woman as pretty as you?' he teased softly. 'How's she used to men reactin'?'

When Helena looked up at him, he saw that she was very tired, not too far from tears and yet still glad of his company. She gave a wobbly smile. 'I have to wait for more discerning men to come along.'

The perfectly judged reply gave him a glimpse of the old Helena. He doubted she would ever pity herself for being less beautiful than a woman like Mary and knew she would consider it undignified to wallow in such self-pity in public. Instead, she turned her answer into a light-hearted compliment to his taste.

He guided her over to an easy chair by the window, sat down and pulled her gently downwards until she lay across his lap, her cheek against his shoulder and her feet dangling over the arm of the chair. He had never presumed to be so intimate before but she did not object to the pose.

'Comfy?'

She nodded.

'I wanna talk to you.'

'About Charles?'

'Nope, about us.'

She lifted her head to examine him closely. 'Have things changed?'

'I was kinda hopin' they might have,' he admitted. 'Leastwise for me.'

'In what way?'

'I figured before,' he said slowly, feeling his way uncertainly, 'That we was just friends. I couldn't see we could be no more, what with me bein' what I am and you bein' what you are. But, knowin' what I do...'

'Yes...?'

'Well, it seemed like maybe I was wrong, that we...'

She was still looking closely at him and he found the prolonged scrutiny unsettling.

'I got the idea that mebbe you might not be as hung up on all that as I figured, is all,' he finished in a rush.

'For a moment, I thought you might have blackmail in mind.' He frowned at the suggestion but a chuckle soon told him that she had not seriously entertained the possibility. 'Things may get far worse before this is over, and yet you still wish to be associated with me?'

'I wanna be there for you,' he said earnestly. 'I mean... hell... I'll be there for you anyhow but I wanna know if I'm keepin' the peace, same as usual, or if I'm defendin' my woman.' He frowned again, frustrated by the difficulty of explaining what he meant. 'See?' he demanded sharply, 'I don't know how a gentleman'd put it or nothin'.'

'If you were a gentleman, you would be on the far side of the room, probably standing and certainly not holding me in your arms. Knowing that, do you still wish to be a gentleman?'

He tensed, feeling that she was mocking him and yet reluctant to believe that of her. 'I never said I wanted to be a gentleman. I said the fact I ain't was why I thought we had no future. Was I right?'

She met his question with one of her own. 'What would it mean to be your woman?'

'That I could hold you like this,' he said, his voice a low rasp filled with hope and longing. 'And kiss you like this,' he touched his lips to hers. 'And you wouldn't be doin' the same with no other man.'

'And you wouldn't be doing the same with any other woman?'

'Yeah, that's right,' he agreed readily.

'Then I think I should enjoy being your woman.'

He looked into the depths of her eyes, noting again how the rich layers of green and brown evoked the lush vegetation lining the bed of a stream. 'You don't need us to be married?'

'Not for kissing,' she smiled.

It was the lull before the storm, and he knew it, but he thought they had a few days before trouble caught up with them. He aimed to make the most of the time, just in case things worked out even worse than he feared later on, and realized with relief that she shared his desire. He savored the touch of her lips on his, delighting in the affection that it conveyed and in the passion that it stirred within him.

'You are a gentleman, Vin,' she murmured into his ear. 'In every way that matters. I have never met a man in whose courage and integrity I placed more faith.'

'But I let you down,' he said sadly.

'Only for a little while.'

'I needed to think on things,' he admitted, 'But I shoulda seen that I needed to be here more.'

She rested a fingertip lightly on his lips. 'There is nothing to be gained by regretting what is past.' She kissed him again, then drew away enough to ask, 'Did thinking about things help?'

He touched their lips together again, relishing their proximity even while he considered his answer. 'I talked it through with a friend. Was that all right?'

'I trust your judgment. This person must be a good friend.'

'He is.' Vin hesitated before going on. He had never deliberately concealed his views from Helena, and he had told her something of the tribes and their beliefs, but he hadn't told her of his personal ties with them, past or present. He realized now that the omission had more to do with embarrassment about his lack of manners and ignorance of etiquette than with concern about her reaction to such acquaintances. 'His name's Chanu. He's the son of the chief on the reservation.'

'Does their view on such matters differ?'

Vin nodded. 'Mind, I ain't sure their way woulda suited your brother no better.'

She raised her eyebrows, in a form of silent inquiry that she often used with him.

'He didn't strike me as the type of man who'd wanna live like a woman.'

Helena smiled. 'No, we encountered that in our travels in Indo-China. Such practices afforded Charles some...' She paused. '...entertainment, but he thought of himself as nothing other than a man. Of course, in those cultures, supposedly normal men avail themselves of both women and men, but he would have found that an equally difficult role to play in full. We did not talk at great length on such matters - it is an area in which one seeks to exercise some discretion - but I knew his general situation.'

Vin nodded, glad to get some insight into the man whose affairs were having such an impact on his own. 'Chanu said that we, you and me, needed t'find our balance on this together. I figured he was right, so I headed on back, but by then you was gone.'

'That was good advice. I should like to meet this man.'

'I'll take you,' he promised. 'When we're sure...'

She nodded. It would be a while before they could feel safe enough to be making social calls.

'You said your brother rarely became involved...?'

'That is true. He was not insensitive to the risks, both to himself and to me.'

'Was there talk? I mean, was that why you was always on the move?'

'Our elder brother, Thomas, knows,' she said softly. 'And he prefers that others should not know.'

'So he packed you off?'

She laughed. 'Not me, no, I have always been free to return to our home. It was Charles who was banished, a common fate for gentlemen of his set. France is a particularly popular destination, given that the Code Napoléon makes no mention of a man's personal affairs.'

'Will you go back now?' He heard the anxiety in his question.

'I am undecided. It is foolish for me to stay, with things as they are, and yet I find myself reluctant to leave.'

Vin didn't need to be a gentleman to know that his response was selfish and ungallant. He was glad that she was staying, even though it would be safer for her to go. His only defense was that he would willingly lay down his life to protect her, if it proved necessary. He reluctantly returned to business.

'Chris wanted me to ask you about what happened in that town.'

She nodded. 'I expected that he would.'

'The more we know...'

'I understand.' She sighed and settled herself more comfortably against him. 'For about a month, we passed time there much as we did here. I became friendly with some of the townswomen and joined in their preparations to celebrate your Independence Day.' She laughed. 'They seemed shocked by my forming such an allegiance with the enemy, but I enjoyed assisting with the baking and needlework. Charles found several worthy adversaries in the saloon. It was with one of them that he subsequently became intimate.'

'He told you?'

Helena nodded. 'He always ensured that I was aware of anything that might later affect me. I liked the man in question and had no reason to object to their association.'

Vin marked down another topic for the future. Helena seemed to accept a man's inclination for fleeting intimacies readily enough, whether her brother's or Buck's, but she never mentioned her own romantic past. Even if she did not quite make beautiful, she had both money and wit - he was sure that plenty of men must have appreciated one or both of those qualities in the years since she reached womanhood. Though it was no business of his, he hoped to learn more about her one day but the time did not seem right for it then.

'The fire began, it was later claimed, with some men who were the worse for drink letting off firecrackers behind the hotel. Some hay had been left carelessly stacked against the building and the blaze was out of control in no time. People began to flee, slowly at first but then more hurriedly.'

When she looked up at him, a single unshed tear stood in each eye.

'Charles and his friend could have escaped undetected. They were about to jump from a side window, into a deserted alley, when they heard a woman cry out from the floor below. She was desperate to reach her baby, which she had left sleeping in its crib while she dined, but her room was directly above the heart of the fire and the flames had taken hold by that time. I wish they had ignored her cries - their courage did not save the child but it did condemn them to death. I know that you have wrestled with this matter, Vin, but I am confident that you no more feel that their actions warranted such a penalty than do I.'

Vin gave a slight shake of his head. 'If folk couldn't turn a blind eye, they coulda run 'em outta town.'

'That came later. Perhaps things might have been different if the child had lived but, as it was, events took on a life of their own. Charles's friend carried the infant out but it had suffocated when the room filled with smoke. He was not residing at the hotel and, to put it bluntly, it was difficult to explain what two men were doing in their undergarments in a private room. Some would not suspect the truth in a thousand years but there are usually others who are more worldly. In this case, the trouble began with a man whose advances I had rejected, believing them to center more on my wealth than myself - he was the man whom you shot first. I suspect he had been formulating the charge before the fire and I have since wondered if he had a hand in igniting the blaze. There appeared to be a degree of coincidence in both its timing and its point of origin.'

'He'da hung sooner than admit to that,' Vin said sourly, 'If it cost a baby's life.'

'Precisely.'

'Where did the law stand on what they said about your brother?'

'The sheriff was a reasonable man. He tried to contain the situation and, when he saw that would not be possible, he advised us to leave. We heeded his advice but had to wait until the next day for the stagecoach. It was then that the other man was killed, less than an hour before he was to leave their vile little town.'

Until then, Vin had not heard such vehemence from her. He couldn't fault her assessment: why kill a man who had heroically braved an inferno to try to save a life and then agreed to be run out of town by way of a thank you?

'I think perhaps it was my presence that delayed Charles's death. At that time, I suspect those men had not reconciled themselves to killing me too and, if left alive, I represented a threat of future consequences. Arguments raged in the streets while we watched the stagecoach arrive, take fresh horses and drivers, and prepare to leave. Then, while the sheriff and his deputies tried to reason with the mob, we slipped away.' Her voice was heavy with a profound sadness. 'I am not proud that we left a murdered man with no one to campaign for justice, but we long ago gave up any hope of changing how the world thinks. Men like Charles make a choice and, unless that choice is abstinence, they know what it may cost them.'

'So it wasn't no posse,' Vin said thoughtfully. 'That should help some.'

'But it doesn't mean there won't be others like them.'

'We can handle more like them.' He let his tone convey his confidence on that score. 'It's only gonna get tough if that town sends the law or pays for some help.'

'Men like you and your friends?'

Vin smiled. 'They'll be lucky if they can find men as good as my friends.'

They sat without saying more for a while, he holding her close while she twisted a lock of his hair thoughtfully. Eventually she broke the silence.

'I don't want to bring trouble to this town.' She raised her hand to prevent him from interrupting. 'And I don't want to discover that many of the people here are just as hateful as those there.'

He and Chris had already looked at the town's possible reactions from every angle and he could well understand why Helena did not want to be disappointed by people she'd come to like.

'Suppose we were to return the bodies in person - would you ride with me?'

He sat up sharply, almost tipping her onto the floor as he did so. 'You ain't going back there.'

'That's very sweet of you, Vin, but it's not your decision to make.'

'It's too dangerous,' he insisted.

'But it would be honest and courageous. As I have said, those are qualities that I love in you and I should like to discover them in myself. At the same time, perhaps I can put an end to this. I can explain how those men met their deaths, and that the other man whose actions so offended them is also dead. Perhaps that will quench their thirst for blood.'

'Who's to say they'd believe you? A sister might lie to save her brother.'

'Mrs. Travis's paper would be proof enough of Charles's death. She is respected throughout the territory.'

Vin fell silent again. He did not want Helena to run such a risk but wondered if her idea might be the most promising solution. Not eager to take on a whole town by himself, he considered whether some of his friends would offer to accompany him on what was largely a personal mission but they could not all go, leaving their own town unprotected. He was confident that Chris would stand by his side, as he had in every danger since their first meeting. Given the circumstances surrounding this particular danger, he hoped that Buck and Ezra would volunteer for a journey that he was already beginning to see as inevitable.

'All righty,' he said slowly. 'You could be right. I'll talk to the others and see what they think.'

They kissed lovingly, letting the tender contact express the complex web of esteem and attraction that bound them ever more tightly together. Everything about that was good in Vin's eyes, filling him with a warmth and strength that made him glad to be alive, and he found himself unable to condemn such a feeling in another couple, be they men or women.

'Whatever comes of all this, know that I loved you,' she whispered.

He nodded. 'Reckon y'knew I was lost afore I did.'

'I don't feel lost, Vin. For the first time in my life, I feel as if I am truly at home.'

'I know what y'mean.'

After one last kiss, he reluctantly rose from the chair, setting her daintily on her feet as he did so.

'You get some rest. If we go,' he emphasized the phrase to underline that he had not yet reached a decision, 'It'll be a tough trip.'

With that, he left her and made his way to the saloon. As there was no sense in guarding corpses, he expected Chris would be there. He was glad to find not only him but also Buck and Ezra at a table in one of the darkest corners. He doubted they were aiming to hide from anything, suspecting rather that the gloom suited their mood. Spotting the fourth shot glass on the table, he knew they'd been waiting for him. As he crossed the noisy room, he wondered how long they would have waited. He might have been a good deal longer, if he hadn't been too weighed down by what had passed to indulge himself, but then they were probably as aware of his mood as he was. Regardless of what Helena might or might not permit, he was not in a passionate frame of mind - loving, certainly, but not passionate.

He nodded to them as he helped himself to a seat and a drink.

Buck began the conversation. 'How's she doing?'

'Not bad, all things considered.'

Chris followed up. 'What could she tell you?'

Vin took a deep breath and then set out to summarize, as concisely and accurately as he could, what Helena had told him. His euphemisms were different from hers but he conveyed the details in the same inescapable but inexplicit manner as she had. Buck and Ezra's lack of surprise confirmed that they had already guessed the essence of the sorry tale.

There was a short silence after he finished.

'My, my,' Ezra said softly, 'So Miss. Danforth is a good deal more worldly than she chooses to reveal.'

Vin took a thoughtful sip from his glass. He knew that Ezra did not intend the remark as an insult but still felt an obligation to defend Helena's honor. 'Ain't so sure it's exactly that,' he speculated. 'I just don't think she sees a whole lot of difference between what he was doin' and what nigh on any man does when he's out of his folks' sight.' He knew he didn't need to point out that few men went into marriage with no experience and few brides expected them to - it was apt to help if somebody knew what to do.

'I'm with her there.'

Vin looked up sharply, taken off-guard by Buck's solid support.

'It's supposed to be a free country. As far as I'm concerned, a man's free to ask and a woman's free to turn him down. Ain't no different if he decides to ask a man - he may be a darned fool but we'd never rest if we hanged every darned fool we come across.'

Ezra laughed, not, Vin suspected, at the tolerance but rather at Buck's unshakable preference for feminine company. Even Chris smiled, although the expression faded when he spoke, keeping his voice low.

'Amazes me folk get so riled up about it. No man who's been out here since before it all got civilized can tell me he ain't seen the like of it somewhere.' He glanced at Buck. 'On the cattle trails?' Then at Vin. 'In Indian villages?' Lastly at Ezra. 'Or gambling halls?'

'The presence of civilization does not preclude it,' Ezra pointed out. 'Such pleasures are easy to procure in cities from Atlanta to New Orleans.'

'Well,' Chris sighed. 'I guess the why don't make a lot of difference. How're we gonna tackle it?'

Vin drew a long breath before speaking. 'Helena wants to take the bodies back to that town.'

Ezra's jaw dropped. 'Why, may I ask?'

'She figures she can explain what happened to 'em - that both of the men involved are dead an' all - an' she thinks that'll satisfy them.'

'I trust you explained the foolhardiness of that plan to her.'

Vin shrugged uneasily. 'I figured she might be right.'

'Why would reason triumph now? So late in the day?'

'Threat's gone,' Vin said simply. 'An' it ain't so easy to kill a woman in the cold light of day, when she walks into your town and invites you to put the noose around her neck. I don't reckon they'll have the stomach for it.'

'And if they do,' Ezra prompted coolly, 'You intend to be there to put a stop to it?'

Vin said nothing but Chris grinned. 'If it comes to that, he won't be alone.'

Vin nodded his thanks. Although he had hoped for such support, he had by no means expected it.

'Well, Buck,' Ezra maintained the same amused exasperation. 'It seems as if our services may be required after all, if these two gentlemen are not to get themselves hanged alongside Miss. Danforth.'

Buck grinned at Vin. 'Don't suppose Helena mentioned what the women were like in that town, did she?'

'Sounded like the cookin' and sewin' type - wouldn't get your hopes up, if I was you.'

'Now who's being narrow-minded?' Buck chuckled. 'I've passed many exciting evenings in the company of ladies who knew their way around the household chores.'

Vin smiled but it was a half-hearted effort. He almost wished he could love every woman that came along the same, like Buck seemed to, but his insistence on picking out one at a time, and not very often at that, left him as much at risk of disappointment as he'd witnessed in Josiah's rare romantic adventures.

'Right,' he concluded the discussion. 'We may as well set out in the morning.'

'Indeed,' Ezra agreed. 'Although not at too ungodly an hour, I hope. I trust our undertaker knows his job or we shall be choking on the stench of decay long before we reach our destination. Of course, that must be an experience with which you are familiar, Mr. Tanner, given your former occupation.'

Vin chose not to answer, reflecting that the fact he was familiar with the stench of decay did not mean that he wanted to smell it again. He wondered if Helena had thought about the prospect of accompanying five corpses through several long days and nights. He'd seen men baulk at less and wasn't in a position to judge her constitution but he was confident that, having shown such strength so far, she would find a way to deal with it.

 

- 3 -

Vin looked thoughtfully over his shoulder.

'Problem?' Chris asked.

Vin shook his head. 'Figure we're about halfway, is all.'

He glanced up at the wagon, where Helena was staring at the lead horse's ears, apparently lost in thought. He'd been pretty confident about the trip, having spent many afternoons riding at her side and quickly seen that she knew how to handle a horse as well as he did. Driving a team of four over a distance was tiring work, hard on the hands whether the driver was a man or a woman, but she had insisted that she could manage the task. He couldn't deny that was a relief - he much preferred to ride than drive and guessed his friends felt the same. Being on horseback made it easier for them to react to a threat quickly, and lightened the load that the team must pull. Six bodies, one alive and five dead, was plenty of weight.

'She seems to be holding up,' Chris said.

Vin smiled. 'When she's awake.'

Chris smiled, too, but in a sad and somehow distant way. 'Funny thing about women, it doesn't matter how much sense they've got in broad daylight, they all seem to get themselves worked up over ghosts and such. It's done Buck a good turn more times than I'd like to reckon up and... and even Sarah was the same when it came to that stuff.' He cleared his throat. 'Mind, that bunch were sacks of dirt alive so they could be just the sort that would be condemned to wander the earth dead for ever.'

Vin found himself staring at his own horse's ears, trying not to make a big deal of the fact that it was the first time that Chris had reminisced about Sarah to him. He kept his tone level when he picked up on the comment. 'That what Sarah thought happened to men like them?'

Chris shifted in his saddle and Vin wondered if he would get an answer but, after a few seconds, he did.

'Don't know as she exactly thought it. I guess if you asked her she'd have talked about Heaven and Hell - that's what she taught Adam - but she used to like some strange books...'

Vin couldn't comment on that: never having read a book, he had no idea what might make them strange.

'There was one I recall where some doctor made a monster out of bits of dead men. She didn't sleep sound for a month after she read it.' He considered that for a while. 'Course, that ain't the same as what Helena's going through here but it's like they enjoy scaring themselves, just s'long as it all turns out right in the end.'

'Mebbe like that little fella who wrote about how it is out here,' Vin suggested. 'Same thing, I guess - a bit of a thrill for the civilized types.'

Chris smiled, broader this time, as if he meant it. 'Maybe we've had too many thrills to want any more.'

'Mebbe so.' Vin thought on it some more and then laughed. 'Hell, I'd probably be scared outta my wits if saw a ghost. But I've killed enough men that I figure I would've seen one by now if they were there t'see.'

'That's pretty much what I said to Sarah.'

'Wasn't convinced?'

'Told me I had no imagination.'

Vin laughed again. He reckoned his own imagination was alive and well, but it seemed content to occupy itself with more appealing prospects than Helena's. While she dreamed of corpses rising from the dead to slay them all, his dreams were worthy of Buck and left him lying in the darkness aching to touch her. The first time he shifted to her side to reassure her, the scent of her skin and the silky texture of her hair nearly finished the job. His frustration was such that he would have welcomed the relief, were it not for the stain he'd have had on his pants for the next day's ride.

'Thanks for riding with us,' he said. He knew that thanks were not needed between them but he appreciated Chris's conversation, as well as his gun, and wanted to acknowledge the fact.

Chris nodded. 'Wasn't about to let you do it alone.'

Not for the first time, Vin counted himself lucky to have such friends. He was a more sociable man than folk were apt to see, enjoying the silent company his friends usually offered and liking the feeling that he was no longer alone in the world. If he died, his body would be buried and his life remembered, and he had never looked for much more than that from his time on earth.

Of course, just then, he was more eager to stay alive than he'd been for a long time. That thought stirred a year-old memory of when they'd ridden out to recover Nettie's possessions from Guy Royal. They hadn't known the reason until later but Vin recalled how Josiah, who usually showed no fear of death, had announced that he wasn't planning on dying before a certain date. Now Vin knew what he meant - his plans were scarcely half-formed but there were a couple of things he sure hoped to be doing before he died.

Before he could dwell on those temptations, Ezra, who had been riding with Buck on the far side of the wagon, reined back to let it move ahead and then jogged briskly up alongside them. When Vin raised an inquiring eyebrow at him, he looked significantly up at Helena. She was no longer watching the horses. Her head had fallen forward and was nodding with the motion of the wagon, although the reins were still secure in her gloved hands. Often having fallen asleep in the saddle in a far-off time before vigilance became a way of life, Vin knew how easy it was to do. Your mind drifted off but your body somehow managed to keep going without it.

He looked around and then said, 'Losin' the light anyhow.'

They would have needed to start looking for somewhere to pass the night soon - half an hour earlier wouldn't make much difference.

He grinned at Ezra. 'Make sure she don't fall off.'

There was no need to disturb her if she stayed put, as she had until then. He urged his horse into a lope and set off in search of a good place to stop. In a less hospitable landscape, he would have been on the look-out all afternoon but they were now riding a well-traveled road that ran close to a creek of drinkable water and it was only a matter of finding a defensible spot with wood for a fire. As always, he'd been watching the dust for signs of company and he was confident that no one had passed that way since early morning.

He threaded his way into the ribbon of woodland that grew along the watercourse, gun in hand and eyes flitting through the vegetation in search of the smallest movement. About ten minutes must have passed before he saw what he was looking for. He fired once, then followed up with a second shot, before collecting his kill and jogging back to where the others had continued along the road.

Helena had woken, probably alarmed by the shots, and smiled when she saw him.

'Are we slipping, Mr. Tanner?' Ezra inquired. 'One shot usually seems to suffice.'

Vin refrained from the crude gesture he would probably have made if Helena hadn't been there, instead holding up the two rabbits slung in front of his saddle. 'One of these wouldn't go far with five of us. Helena, we need to take the wagon down to the creek. Be safer to get it out of sight of the road.'

'All right,' she agreed.

'Take it steady and stay right behind us - the ground's soft in places.'

She nodded and guided the team carefully into his wake. The others rode in loose formation around him, so that they checked a path wide enough for the wagon to pass over safely.

'Soft here,' Buck warned.

They crept steadily on, adjusting their course each time one of them identified a soft patch. They were only yards from the creek when one of the wheels on the wagon found a spot they'd missed.

'Vin!'

They all turned their mounts the instant she cried out. One of the rear wheels was sinking, twisting the wagon as it did so.

'Shit,' Vin muttered.

The last thing they needed was a broken wagon. Helena was already moving, shifting instinctively to the corner of the wagon opposite the wheel to try to stop it tipping. He knew that was futile - there was no way she could counterbalance the weight of the full coffins; she would only add to the stress on the wagon.

'Get down!' he called, as he urged his horse towards the sinking wheel, with the others right behind him.

She looked at him in surprise, seemed ready to argue but then leapt gracefully into the tussocky grass, rolling with an expertise that he guessed came from falling off of horses. She'd mentioned that she liked to follow the hounds, something she'd then had to explain to him, and anyone that chased a pack of dogs across open countryside had to know how to take a tumble. She was back on her feet in moments, running towards the lead horse, a steady grey gelding, and then taking a firm hold of its bridle.

He had no time to think more about her. He and Ezra forced their mounts sideways into the wagon, trying to halt its slide, while Chris and Buck cast around for something to put under the wheel. Buck yanked a loose sheet of bark off a fallen bough. They needed something with more strength but Vin hoped it would buy a few seconds. Buck shoved it under the wheel rim while Helena coaxed the gelding into giving its all. The whole team strained without freeing the wheel, while it slowly sank deeper.

At that moment, the top coffin began to slide.

Vin sidled across to block it with his gelding's hindquarters but it slid right over the top. He tried to catch hold of it but the angle was all wrong. He was still battling with it when Chris rammed a more substantial strip of timber under the wheel and joined Buck at the back of the wagon to give one mighty push. Combined with the force coming from the snorting team, that sent the wagon flying forwards.

The coffin crashed to the ground and split open, disgorging its occupant into the dust.

Vin half-expected Helena to scream but he heard only a strangled little yelp of alarm.

He dismounted to inspect the damage. The wagon appeared intact, now standing on firm ground, while the team was blowing heavily from its exertions. Chris and Buck leaned on the wagon, also breathing deeply. Ezra looked down distastefully at the coffin.

'It seems that even death has not put an end to the trouble caused by these reprobates.'

Helena was still clinging to the gray's bridle, not far from a faint if Vin was any judge of such things. Sleepless nights and an overactive imagination had robbed her of her usual self-assurance.

'S'okay. C'm here,' he called softly to her.

She edged cautiously closer, not looking as if his words were much comfort. He held out his hand.

'C'mon.'

She moved closer still, only then seeing what he meant her to see. The undertaker had done his job, preparing the bodies carefully for the journey and then wrapping them tightly in sealed oilcloth. The bundle at their feet looked more like a body-shaped package than a corpse.

'See?' he prompted gently. 'He ain't going nowhere.'

She nodded, staring transfixed at the body and trembling. When she turned her gaze on him, her pretty hazel eyes were rimmed red by fatigue and opened wide in horror.

'How many men have you killed, Vin?'

The question came in a whisper and then hung in the air like a bad smell. Whatever he had expected her to say, that wasn't it. He shifted his weight uneasily from one foot to the other, lost for an answer and wishing she hadn't asked him in front of the others, who were probably feeling as awkward for him as he felt for himself. Eventually, desperate to end the silence, he opted for the truth.

'Don't know.'

'You don't know?'

He shook his head, at once surprised that she expected him to know and surprised that he didn't.

'Tens? Less?' She hesitated. 'More?'

He considered briefly, trying to figure a likely tally for a year and then reckon it up for his decade or so of manhood. 'More,' he admitted.

'Does that include the war?'

He shook his head. 'Too young.'

She sank to the ground beside the body and sat, staring at it. He looked at Chris, silently seeking some help with the unexpected turn of events, but got only a slight shrug in reply. Given an extra decade of life and the Larabee reputation, Vin had little doubt that his friend's tally must far exceed his own. Even if Buck and Ezra probably lagged behind, he knew they still had plenty of blood on their hands. He'd never tried to hide from Helena what kind of man he was but not until then had he realized that her lack of experience might make it hard to take in the reality of what he said.

'They took two lives,' she murmured. 'So we took five. Now perhaps they will take five more... twelve lives... will it end there?'

'We ain't plannin' on lettin' them take five more,' he pointed out.

'And how many lives are you willing to take to stop that from happening?'

He pushed his hat up by an inch or two to rub his forehead. He couldn't see that answering her question was going to help any.

'As many as it takes?' she suggested.

He felt himself growing angry. He was far from stupid and could understand her point of view but her ideas came from another world, where a man was banished for offending his community, not one where he could just as easily be shot or lynched.

'Would you sooner we'da let 'em do what they had a mind to last week?'

He was surprised by his own question, and by the cruelty that he'd let infuse it, and he knew from Buck and Ezra's expressions that they were too. Only Chris watched impassively. Vin guessed Helena might have heard worse from him, if roles were reversed. She looked at him in disbelief, as shocked as if he had hit her, then scrambled to her feet and ran off into the woods.

'Damnation!' he snarled.

'Let her be, Vin,' Buck said in a low voice. 'She'll come around.'

'And if she don't?'

'Miss. Danforth is no fool,' Ezra added his own softly spoken reassurance. 'I doubt that she will abscond in a location from which she has no means of returning alone. Our company may be offensive but alternatives are scarce at present.'

Vin knew that they were trying to make him feel better but they were failing. He kicked savagely at the piece of timber that was still lying behind the wheel of the wagon. 'I never said I was no damned angel.'

'She's been though a lot,' Buck said reasonably. 'First an acquaintance murdered, then her brother, then nearly herself. It's no wonder if she's a touch on edge. Hell, if that dang fool marshal thought he could talk a cattleman out of this land, and he'd spent some time in Kansas, you can't expect her to know better.'

In low spirits, they set about banging the broken coffin back together as best they could before reloading the wagon and making camp for the night. Vin skinned and gutted the rabbits while Chris got a fire going, so that the carcasses were soon dribbling spitting juices into the flames. Throughout, he worried about Helena and wrestled with the temptation to go looking for her. He could have caught up with her in no time, and dragged her back kicking and screaming if need be, but he could see that would only cast him as the kind of brute she'd more or less accused him of being. He felt a compelling need to justify himself, to tell his friends that all those dead men were killers deserving of their fates, but he knew it was not them he needed to convince. Even the smell of good trail food, one of his favorite things, could not lift the pall.

Feeling the call of nature, he strode into the trees. He leaned heavily on a tree while he relieved himself, his forearm against the trunk and his forehead resting on it. His feelings were all jumbled up again, just when Helena's abduction seemed to have clarified them. Now she was judging him, when before he had judged her. He was unsure whether her criticism was more or less fair than his own had been. Although he was no murderer, he had felt doubts about the life he had chosen on more than one occasion. Most recently, he had discussed with Nathan the temptation to kill a wanted man because it was easier than taking him in alive. Helena's words had stirred up the doubts that he had buried because he could not resolve them.

He buttoned up his pants but, still in turmoil, decided against returning to camp immediately. He walked away from the spot where he'd relieved himself and found a fallen tree that made a fair seat. He sat and stared up at the clouds, tinged pink by the twilight, wondering what kind of man he really was. Had he been a brute by most ordinary measures, Helena would already have known all about it - he'd had plenty of opportunities to take what he undoubtedly wanted from her. He was not a man who took his pleasures that way but he supposed it was decency, rather than fear of the consequences, that stopped him, given that he doubted a lady like her would admit such an assault to anyone if she could avoid it.

He turned sharply when he heard a noise behind him, his gun finding its way into his hand without the need for conscious thought. When his mind caught up with his instincts, he doubted that the noise came from a stranger or from one of his friends looking for him. Either one of them was on the same mission as he'd been, and had happened on him by chance, or it was Helena. He lowered the weapon cautiously.

She stepped out of the shadows and stood, head down and hands clasped behind her back.

He wasn't sure how to read her posture. Remembering what Ezra had said, he realized that she was trapped with them for now, whether she liked it or not. She might not have come back by choice. He tried to keep the anger and resentment he'd been feeling out of his voice.

'We'll take you on, backwards or forwards, as you like.'

It was the fairest offer he could make, although he wished his tone hadn't made it sound quite so take-it-or-leave-it.

'I didn't mean to criticize you,' she said quietly. 'I feel as much to blame... no, more to blame... for all these deaths than those who pulled the triggers. I was only trying to understand how... how you live with what you do... wondering how many more there might be... because of Charles... because of me...' She wiped a tear from her cheek. 'What if they didn't intend to kill me? How many lives is my virtue worth?'

He had completely misread her feelings. His words about letting her rape go on unhindered flooded into his mind, with all the force of a well-placed right hook, but he faced her resolutely.

'As many as it takes,' he echoed her earlier words. 'Hell, you know I ain't had your education, Helena, and mebbe it's different in other places but, right here and right now, you let that stuff go and things get out of hand real fast. You say it don't matter about your virtue and you're tellin' men like them that they can help theirselves to every other woman in town an' all. You ain't got the right to do that.'

'You see things so clearly. I envy you that clarity.'

'You think I'm simple,' he said flatly.

'No, I think you have the courage of your convictions. I wish that I were more sure of my own.' She came a few steps closer. 'I am sorry that I offended you earlier. It was not my intention.'

'You got nothin' t'be sorry for.' He meant that. 'I'm sorry for what I said. I had no right t'bring it up, an' there ain't one of us would stand by while a woman was taken that way.'

'I know.' She sat timidly beside him. 'You are a frightening man when you are angry, Vin. I hadn't seen it until Charles was killed and it was... unsettling to have you speak to me as you did earlier.'

'You surely know I'd never raise a hand to you?' he asked, astonished that she could fear him.

'I am not sure that your fondness for me would save me, if I did something that deserved death, but then perhaps that is no bad thing. Justice should be impartial.'

He could not take issue with that. On safer ground, he said, 'I ain't never killed a woman.'

'Would you? If the situation justified it?'

He considered the question. There was one woman whom he would be willing to kill, if her death was authorized by the price that she deserved to be carrying on her head. Murder was murder, whether a man or a woman paid for it. 'Yeah, there's one I woulda killed, if things had turned out right.' For the first time in what felt like an age, he smiled. 'Just seems like most o' the time you women keep yourselves on a tighter rein. It ain't women we get shooting up our town and takin' advantage of our menfolk.'

'I have no interest in shooting up your town,' she said, her tone closer to the teasing lilt that he loved. 'But I could be tempted to take advantage of one of your menfolk. The problem is that he is stronger than I am, faster with a gun, and sleeps with one eye open so that I cannot gain the upper hand by stealth.'

'You could slip him one of those potions,' he teased back. 'I've heard of that in stories. Nathan could probably set you up with one, iffin you told him it was to help you sleep or somethin'.'

'I think I would prefer this man's willing participation,' she said slowly, as if considering the possibility.

He smiled and slipped his arm around her waist. 'Most men feel the same way,' he whispered against her ear. 'We ain't all animals.'

'I have never doubted it.' She paused before going on. 'But sometimes a lady finds it easier to accede to a suitor's demands than to give her permission explicitly. That may sound foolish to you but, as you pointed out, you have not had my upbringing.'

He studied her carefully. 'You sayin' what I think you're sayin'?'

'I am saying that it is easier for me to tell you where you must stop than to tell you where you may begin.'

'I see.' That wasn't quite true - he didn't yet see but he thought he was starting to. 'But this ain't the time for it, I reckon. The others'll be on the worry where I've got to.'

'They must think me a dreadful fool.'

'No, matter of fact, Ez said the exact opposite - that you're no fool.' He squeezed her gently. 'They know how tough things have been. Forget it.'

'I doubt that I shall be able to do that but I will try to think more carefully before I speak.'

He stood and took her hand in his, leading her back to where he had left the others. He gave his usual whistled warning as they approached but offered no explanation when they entered the circle of firelight. The rabbits glistened like gold and he was ready to eat. When he began to hand the meat around, he found that all his companions had appetites to match his own. Content to have resolved one problem, he put all thoughts of what lay ahead out of his head and concentrated on enjoying Helena's improved state of mind.

 

- 4 -

Vin glanced at a board beside the road and then turned to Helena. He spoke casually, as if only for confirmation. 'This it?'

He suspected his friends must have guessed way back that he could not read and doubted Helena would be surprised by the shortcoming, given that he'd made no secret of the brevity of his education, and yet the habits of a lifetime were hard to shake. He had countless little subterfuges to avoid the need to read or write. On this occasion, he was confident from the distance and landscape that they had reached their destination. On the board, he saw one word written in large letters and then two that were smaller. He knew from past conversations that the top one would be the name of the town and the bottom two would be the number of people who lived there. Thanks to Mary's lessons, he knew the population was in the hundreds because it was made up of three numbers but it would have taken him a while to reckon it up.

'Yes.' She stared at the cluster of wooden buildings ahead of them. 'Now that we are here, my plan seems somewhat naïve.'

Ezra rode closer to the wagon and looked up at her kindly. 'I cannot deny a degree of skepticism about the likelihood of reason triumphing over bigotry, Miss. Danforth, but there is nothing naïve in trying to stop the situation escalating further than it already has. Rest assured that you have the fastest hand and the most accurate eye in the territory to back up your arguments.' He smiled ironically. 'And I am confident that Messrs. Larabee and Tanner will also try to make themselves useful at some point.'

'Let's start with the sheriff, then,' she said decisively.

She drove into the town at a purposeful jog, looking determined but vulnerable. Vin thought it was probably the right strategy, making their roles as protectors rather than aggressors clear from the outset, but it felt strange to tackle it that way. Usually, Chris would take the lead and he would be right behind - that had always felt natural and he was uneasy letting Helena risk her neck ahead of them. She stopped the wagon in front of the jail and jumped lightly down. Any other time, Vin would have dismounted and offered his hand but at that moment he wanted the height and speed of being on horseback. His eyes skipped over the entire scene, checking every corner and rooftop for a possible threat. He did not expect to find one but could not rule out the possibility that someone might have seen their odd cavalcade headed for town and ridden in with a warning. When he was satisfied that no one was likely to open fire on them, he swung down from his saddle. Chris mirrored his movement, while Buck and Ezra remained mounted - they looked casual enough but Vin knew their guns would be in their hands in a split second, if needed.

A man came out of the jail. He was much the same height as Chris but heavier built. Vin judged him to be older too, but probably a formidable gun at one time. The eyes that examined them carefully were astute but a slight squint suggested that they were not as keen as they had once been. Two missing fingers on his gun hand could not improve his dexterity in a draw. However, Vin had taken on far too many battle-scarred outlaws to be complacent in the edge that being able-bodied should give him. Having a woman whom he intended to protect from harm at all costs could put him at a greater disadvantage than a couple of missing limbs when it came to limiting his options.

It was obvious that the man instantly recognized Helena. He studied each of them in turn and then the wagon. Helena addressed him with her usual good manners.

'Good afternoon, sheriff. I am sorry to bring more trouble to your town but five of the townsmen were not content to leave the matter as it was. Perhaps you realized that they had followed my brother and me?'

'I knew they weren't here,' he admitted gruffly. 'Where's your brother? Does he leave his sister to clear up behind him?'

'In a manner of speaking,' Helena said stiffly. 'He is dead.'

Vin could see the man wasn't thrilled about that, though whether from compassion or anxiety about the consequences he wasn't sure.

'Who're these fellas? They don't look like friends of your brother's.'

'As if you would be able to tell by looking,' Ezra said contemptuously.

Until that moment, Vin had not fully realized how deeply Ezra despised the particular kind of narrow-mindedness that had put them in the position they were in.

'As it happens, I was honored to consider Mr. Danforth a friend and his personal affairs were no concern of mine. Perhaps someone in this cultural backwater would like to teach me a lesson? I am a very quick study.'

Vin almost smiled at the rare sight of Ezra itching to whale the tar out of someone.

'You keep your fists, and your guns, to yourselves.' The sheriff fairly growled his warning. 'There's been enough trouble here over this and we don't need no more. Unload that wagon and get out of my town - I'll see to the rest.'

'We need supplies for our return journey,' Helena pointed out.

The sheriff looked them over again.

'You,' he said to Buck. 'Get what you need. Make it fast and keep it quiet.'

Buck looked at Vin, but then nodded. None of them was used to taking orders but the sheriff's attitude was understandable. Vin was grateful that Helena hadn't had to explain the circumstances in which the men were killed. Willing to let himself be pushed around a fair bit to save her that indignity, he knew his friends would do the same - for her and for him.

Vin was initially surprised when Ezra dismounted to help him with the coffins but immediately realized that a Southern gentleman would never expect a woman to assist with such a task and, like himself, Ezra would feel better with Chris covering them than with the roles reversed. Chris might have been carved from stone, so still did he stand, his bearing declaring how much he resented being drawn into such a mess by a lawman who could not keep control in his town. His silent criticism put the sheriff on the defensive.

'Look, ma'am,' he began. 'You know I had no time for those fellas. They was trouble before you came and, if it wasn't your brother, it'd likely have been something else.'

'Did you ever carry out a full investigation of the fire?' she asked.

'Why? What did you expect me to find?'

'I'm not certain. It merely seemed remarkably coincidental, for such a fierce conflagration to start so close to my brother's room at such an inopportune moment, almost as if someone intended to expose him.'

'That's a serious allegation. A child died in that fire.'

'And two men died after it. Perhaps they were intended to die sooner.'

His eyes narrowed. 'I did investigate and I found nothing suspicious.'

'Given how little was left, that could hardly be conclusive.'

'Well, given what's in those boxes, it don't hardly seem to matter.'

She inclined her head slightly, declining to argue that point.

Their conversation was interrupted by Buck's return. He'd clearly taken no longer than necessary over the task, resisting for once the temptation to seek out whatever diversions the town might offer. Vin was not surprised by that, partly because he knew that Buck was as determined as any of them that Helena should suffer no more than she must but also because, despite what appearances might sometimes suggest, he was no fool. Their best chance of leaving the town without any lives being lost was to do just what the sheriff had told them and Buck knew it. Noting that he had loaded only the bare essentials into the wagon, Vin hoped the game was as plentiful on the way back as it had been on the outward journey - if not, they'd get plenty hungry. With the coffins stacked on the sidewalk, he offered his hand to help Helena onto her seat.

'Hey!'

Vin's heart gave an uncomfortable double beat. He turned slowly.

'What's she doing back here?'

Vin sized up the questioner, seeing that he was taller, broader and older than himself. Although the man carried a sidearm, Vin knew he was no gunman.

'And what're those?' The man pointed at the coffins.

It was then that Vin began to see why the sheriff could not control his town. He had none of Chris's menacing presence and his reluctance to confront a troublemaker was all too obvious. In their town, the newcomer would have been forced into the jail in seconds and held until the visitors were out of town. Instead, the sheriff let the man go on creating a disturbance until a crowd had gathered around them.

'You were going to let them go without even looking into it?' a woman demanded angrily. 'By their own admission, they killed five men of this town.'

'Yeah,' the sheriff conceded, 'But you know those fellas killed one man here - made no secret of it - and it seems they caught up with the other one too.'

'Those two should have hanged anyhow - if you'd been doing your job.'

Several voices in the crowd agreed. Vin saw the situation slipping out of control and Helena's question came back to him. How many lives? Where would it end? These were men with guns, not gunman. Were he and his friends about to gun them all down? How would he live with that?

People began to shove and jostle. Some came forward to claim kinship or friendship with the dead men. Many lined up to denounce Danforth. For good measure, a preacher began to recite scriptures to support their cause. Amidst it all, Helena rose to her feet. Standing on the buckboard of the wagon, she towered over the crowd. One by one, people noticed her and fell silent. Not until all was still did she speak.

'Those men are not dead because they murdered my brother. Make no mistake about it - they murdered him, just as they murdered his friend before him - but that was not the reason that they died.' She set her chin firmly and continued. 'I am ashamed to say that I did not press for justice for my brother, believing it would do him no good and fearing it would do me harm. These gentlemen,' she gestured at Vin and the others, 'Uphold the law in the town where the murder took place and, when I explained the motive, they shared my concern and allowed the murderers to leave. Had they returned here then, they would yet live.'

'Says you,' a man shouted angrily.

His interruption set off a wave of dissent. Chris silenced it with a single shot.

'Says all of us,' he said in the cold, controlled voice that Vin had seen give even the most hardened outlaws pause for thought. He was everything that the local sheriff was not. 'We saw the whole sorry mess.'

'So what's your story?' another man scoffed. 'Why are they dead?'

Chris glared at him until he lowered his gaze. 'Because they abducted this woman from a hotel room in our town. We don't stand for that. Because, when we tracked them down, they were in the act of forcing themselves on her. We sure as hell don't stand for that.'

Standing at his side, Buck added, 'We don't give a rat's ass what her brother was - nothing makes what they were doing right in our town. Is that clear enough for you?'

Ezra joined in. 'And the sole reason we expended valuable time on returning their worthless remains was to support Miss. Danforth in her desire to explain what had passed and prevent more deaths.'

Moved by their solidarity, Vin picked up where Ezra left off. 'But, if you haven't got the sense to let it go, we've got no problem with killing more of you. It's your choice.'

'No!' Helena's voice quavered. 'This will not be resolved by threats.' The hand that she rested on the whip holder for support was trembling. 'You surely cannot doubt that those men killed my brother, given that he was killed in exactly the same way as his friend was killed here.' She held up the newspaper that she'd brought as proof. 'You can read about it here in The Clarion - everyone in this territory respects the integrity of Mary Travis's reporting. Clearly you believe that brutal murder is something that you want to encourage on the streets of your proud New World. Perhaps rape, too, is a part of the life that you seek to carve out for yourselves here. All I ask,' she paused to swallow nervously, 'All I ask is that, if you want to hurt me further, you place the rope around my neck now and be done with it. I have no wish to spend weeks and months waiting for someone else to follow in my footsteps and take their revenge on me.'

When she made to descend from the wagon, Vin offered his hand again. He wasn't keen on the risk she was taking but respected her determination to focus the townspeople's wrath on the only target left for it. Could they really believe that hurting her would achieve anything?

She walked up to the sheriff. 'These men killed only to protect me, in their legitimate roles as lawmen. Only I am left alive to answer for the events that led to those deaths. If you wish to hang me, proceed.'

She waited.

The crowd shifted apprehensively, a few people drifting away as if to distance themselves from the events that were unfolding but others muttering threateningly. The sheriff watched for maybe half a minute, his expression starting to show some of the contempt that Chris had showed to him, and then he offered his hand to help Helena back onto the wagon.

'If this town wants to hang you, they'll have to find themselves a new sheriff to do it.' When she was seated, he tucked the rug around her legs and faced Chris. 'Take her someplace where folk have got better things to do with their time.' He turned back to the crowd. 'If you want these sacks of dirt buried like decent folk, you better get on with it. If they stay outside my jail much longer, they'll go in the slough.'

As pale as the ghosts she feared, Helena flicked the whip over the team and then clung to the reins as the horses flew out of town at a racing trot. Vin urged his gelding into a lope, determined to stay close, and saw the others follow his example. They held the pace for about twenty minutes before slowing to a walk.

'You okay?' he called up to Helena.

She nodded. 'I don't know how you gentlemen brave out these situations with such regularity. I was terrified that I had misjudged their mood.'

Chris gave one of his rare smiles. 'Vin said he didn't reckon they'd have the stomach for it.'

'I had my doubts,' Ezra admitted, 'But I underestimated your abilities as an actress, Miss. Danforth.'

Helena looked puzzled. 'But I meant what I said to them.'

Ezra looked at Buck, and then they both laughed.

'What?'

Chris grinned. 'You've got a bit to learn about Vin, if you think he was gonna let them hang you.'

She turned to face Vin. 'But I told you how I felt about all the killing.'

He looked up at her, wondering if his response would anger her, but gave it anyway. 'An' I told you how I felt. I meant what I said to you - like you said, as many as it takes. But that don't mean I ain't glad your way worked.'

She blushed. 'Now I feel a fraud.'

'There is no need to feel that way,' Ezra told her. 'If you meant what you said, and you believed we would let it go at that, then you were no fraud.'

Vin recalled what she had told him when she suggested the plan. 'You said you wanted to find more courage in yourself. I reckon you done that and then some.'

'But I felt afraid, not brave.'

This time, all four of them laughed.

'Why is that amusing?' she demanded.

'Only fools don't feel fear,' Buck said.

'And only fools want to be around those who feel no fear,' Ezra added. 'They are the ones who get themselves, and others, killed.'

Vin saw Helena eye Chris, clearly doubting that he ever felt fear.

Chris met her gaze and looked thoughtful before saying, 'But not every man fears the same thing.'

'Very true,' Ezra agreed. 'Or every woman, I suspect. In any event, if your skin were your most valued possession, it seems unlikely you would have accompanied your brother on his travels, given the risk at which that occasionally placed you. Would you not have availed yourself of any opportunity to save him?'

'I hope so. I... I think so.'

'Sounds like courage to me,' Vin told her. 'Now let's put some distance between us and that hell-hole.'

He set a challenging pace until nightfall, leaving the selection of a campsite as late as he dared. It made for a long day but he wanted to rest as easy as possible that night. In truth, he did not expect to be pursued. He thought Helena's stand had defused the tension effectively, probably leaving the townspeople wondering what all the fuss had been about. Indeed, intrigued by Ezra's casual reaction to Danforth's secret, he had begun to wonder if his own shock had been somewhat naïve. It had certainly abated with time.

 

- 5 -

By the time they were back in town, Vin's thoughts had moved on from past tragedies to future hopes. After escorting Helena to the hotel, he busied himself with the routine tasks that followed a long journey. Before he and his friends could attend to themselves, there were the borrowed horses and wagon to be returned, and their own horses to be stabled. When that was done, he went to his wagon to find a change of clothes while Ezra carried on towards the hotel, where Vin knew that he preferred a bathtub in the privacy of his room. Vin was not a great believer in throwing away good money on hot baths. Although no dirtier than the next man, he was nonetheless perfectly content to bathe in the cold water of a creek. It was only the sight of Chris and Buck headed for the bathhouse that gave him pause for thought that day.

He had decided that it was time to explore Helena's delicate allusion to how far she would permit their intimacy to develop. That raised a whole host of questions in his mind, some of which related to his lack of finesse and others to her probable lack of experience. Of one thing he was sure: he wanted to make himself as appealing as possible. Naturally, that meant clean but he was looking for something more, something special. He'd already contemplated asking Ezra's advice but decided against it because, for all his kindness and courtesy over Helena's difficulties, Ezra would certainly extract a high price in ridicule, and probably cash too, if asked for help in affairs of the heart. Thinking back to a conversation after he restored Charlotte Richmond to the wagon trail, Vin realized that Buck was his man when it came to a more sympathetic hearing on such a topic. He gathered up his clothes and set off for the bathhouse.

Inside, Buck and Chris were already stretched out in two of the four tin baths, their gun belts hung within easy reach but otherwise looking totally relaxed. Their expressions when they saw him were identical: initial surprise and then amusement.

'All right,' he said. 'No, I don't reckon t'pay for a bath and, yes, I'm payin' today.' He tossed a coin to the attendant. 'Now, Bucklin, help me out here. What does a man go for when he's wantin' to please a lady?'

'A lady of refined tastes, I presume?' Buck teased, making Chris's smile broaden.

'Y'all know which lady. Now jus' tell the fella what I need.'

Buck laughed heartily but went on to do exactly what Vin had asked, instructing the attendant down to the last detail what salts, cologne and other sundries were required. While the man was preparing Vin's bath, Buck stopped chuckling long enough to say, 'Ezra's the only man in town likely to have the kind of stuff she's used to, Vin, but then I reckon she knows you haven't seen a big city in a while.'

Vin nodded his acceptance of the warning. He wasn't trying to put on airs and graces for Helena - in fact, he couldn't think of a worse thing to do, given the cultural divide between them - he just wanted to look like he'd made an effort. He stripped mechanically, still contemplating how his plans might unfold, and waited - naked and half-erect - while the attendant brought one last pail of water from a copper in the corner of the room.

Buck was laughing again. 'And to think we thought you might be shy.'

'Huh?' Vin said, jolted out of his reverie. He looked down and then frowned. 'Hell, I ain't got nothin' you ain't got.'

Of course, it was just such situations that made a man uneasy about Danforth's type but Vin was pretty sure that neither Buck nor Chris had the slightest interest in his assets. Oddly enough, after everything that had happened, he wondered if he even cared. So what if a man looked a bit longer than he expected? He didn't plan on changing his way of life to avoid that. He stepped into the scented water, swilled it around with one foot while he got used to the unfamiliar heat of it, and then slid down until he reckoned he looked as easy with the whole routine as his companions.

Buck was clearly still enjoying having a new apprentice. 'So, Vin, what else do you need help from the master on? Tips on how to entertain this lady? Doubts about your technique in the boudoir?'

Vin raised one finger above the edge of the tub. 'Ain't nothin' wrong with my technique.'

'You could be rusty after all this time. Takes practice to do things right.'

Vin grinned, imagining the answer he'd like to give, but then, respectful of Helena's reputation, said only, 'Yeah, but then I'm courtin' a lady. S'a different thing.'

'And I was born yesterday,' Buck laughed.

Vin ignored him and began to wet his hair with the pitcher beside the tub. He hoped to be doing a good deal more than take tea with Helena and his friends certainly knew that. There was no need to say more on the topic. Already impatient to be on his way, he washed himself scrupulously from head to toe, diligently scrubbing his fingers and toes with a nail brush, and lingering over every crevice where dirt might lurk.

Inside ten minutes, he was dried and dressed in his fresh clothes. He had only one more stop to make - the barber's for a shave and trim. As he reached the door, Buck called out.

'Good luck!'

Looking back, he saw the genuine smiles that both his friends wore and nodded his acknowledgement of their support. A joke was fair enough but it felt good to know that, underneath it, they cared about him.

By the time he reached Helena's door, he was barely recognizable as the dusty, sweaty, stubbled gunman who'd ridden into town that morning. Checking the result in the mirror on the hotel landing, he thought it wasn't bad - still very much himself only more so. He took a deep breath and knocked.

'Who's there?'

Helena's voice was confident and casual, lighter than he'd heard it in a while, matching the improvement in her appearance during their return journey, as she slept better and began to believe the worst was behind her. He guessed that she thought it was a member of the hotel staff at her door.

'S'me.'

'Oh!' Definite surprise. 'Just a minute!'

He could picture her scurrying around, tidying up before admitting him.

After a few seconds, she whispered through the door, 'I'm not really... decent.'

She had probably taken longer over her bath than he had. Knowing that it would take more than a minute or two for her to put on all her layers of clothes, he couldn't see the point in delay - he was hoping to take them all off again anyway.

'So?'

There was a silence. After many years of waiting out his prey, human and animal, he knew the value of doing nothing. The door opened by a couple of inches and one hazel eye gazed steadily out at him. He looked into it, treasuring the vitality he saw in its depths, the irrepressible spirit that held such a powerful attraction for him. He had no need to manipulate his own expression - he knew that it spoke of love and longing and plain old lust, and he wanted Helena to see all those things. Slowly the door opened wider. He slipped inside as soon as there was space, closed it behind him and turned the key.

He leaned against the door to look at her. Like his, her hair was still damp but hers was a yard longer. He had never seen it loose before. She was clasping a robe of white silk around herself but the sheer fabric revealed every contour of her figure. Freed of all artificial constraints, her body was intensely exciting to him. Guts churning as he fought for control over his desire, he tossed his hat and jacket onto a chair.

He stepped forward, put a finger under her chin to raise it by an inch, and then touched his lips to hers.

'One word from you and I stop - you know that?'

She nodded. Her eyes were wide and now so, so dark.

He unbuckled his gun belt, laid it carefully on top of his jacket and then swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed. Putting her down tenderly, he prized her fingers from the robe and began to part its edges. She was trembling, cheeks pink and lashes lowered shyly. He was tense, thrilled at last to be revealing the treasure that he had imagined for so long.

It was as dazzling as in his dreams. Her skin was pale, with only the weal around her neck to mar its smoothness. Fuller than they had seemed in a tightly fitted bodice, her breasts curved upwards and culminated in long nipples that were already erect. Vin looked at them longingly, considered his promise to stop at a single word from her and hoped he could keep it, and then lowered himself over her until one nipple slipped between his lips.

She sighed.

Exploration begun, he charted her body fluently. He'd had hours on the trail to formulate his plan and now he would find out if he'd made the right choice. He believed she was still a virgin, in more than just the literal sense of whether she'd been penetrated, and he doubted that she had discovered the thrills that her body could yield. He intended to reveal them to her. Then, knowing how generous of spirit she was, he hoped she would want to return the favor. It was kind of simple for a master plan, he had to admit, but he reckoned it would reap the result he was after. His mind filled with the image of her small hand curled around his hard flesh and he knew that she would hardly need to move.

He moved on to the other nipple and teased it to full hardness, while still tracing circles around the first one with his finger. It was no hardship to take his time over the task - he adored women's nipples and could have spent many, many minutes suckling without tiring of it - but he wanted to maintain the onslaught of new sensations that he hoped would discourage Helena from stopping him. Her curiosity was his greatest weapon. Supporting his weight on his right forearm, he began to work his way south, covering her skin with kisses and tracing a path down to the sparse patch of brown hair above her sex. She was slender there, he noted, so that the crevice he sought was clearly visible between the spare folds of flesh.

'Oh, no,' she murmured. 'You should stop... I really should stop you...'

He decided not to interpret her murmurs as a request. Her fingers were entwined in his hair but she made no move to hold him back, as he ran his tongue over her stomach and down to where he really wanted to taste her. She shivered, though whether from the trail of cooling saliva or from anticipation he could not know. His anticipation, the contained frustration from weeks of acquaintance, was beyond doubt.

The tip of his tongue probed for the spot he sought. Even if he had not felt the little nub of harder flesh, he would have known he was there from the surprised little gasp she gave. If she was going to stop him, he thought she would already have done so. He was afraid that any pause or shift might shatter her mood but he couldn't sustain the awkward position much longer. He wormed his way lower on the bed and slipped his hands under her buttocks, squeezing them as he continued to play his tongue over the nub he'd found.

She moved her other hand to cradle his head on both sides, her fingertips kneading his scalp in slow circles that confirmed her pleasure in what he was doing. He was sure now that she did not intend to stop him, given that he would not be going so far that it might have consequences for her, and he concentrated on delivering the best experience he possibly could. Although not a boastful man, he had quiet confidence that his best would match that of any man she chose to lie with. Her deepening sighs and gasps did nothing to undermine that opinion.

When she started to shudder, he held her more firmly so that he could control her passage through climax and beyond. Her soft moans reignited his arousal, which had flagged with uncertainty and concentration, and he imagined himself inside her as he took her higher. She bucked against his grip, one hand over her mouth as if to prevent herself from crying out, and then arched in a final spasm before collapsing back onto the bed.

For a moment, she looked at him in surprise but then tears welled up in her eyes and overflowed onto her cheeks. He hurried to her side, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, and held her close. She was trembling all over.

'You all right?'

She nodded against him. 'That was wonderful... I... I have never felt anything like it.'

He wasn't sure whether it was the first time or the best time. 'You never done that?'

'No,' she laughed, then choked on the laughter. When she recovered, she explained, 'Never. It is most certainly not ladylike - probably not even if we were married. What little I have been told emphasized my duty to my husband, not the quality of my experience.' She propped herself up on one elbow to look at him. 'And, even ignorant as I am, I know that was done for my benefit not yours.'

He grinned. 'Oh, I wouldn't say that. Wouldn'ta done it if I didn't want to.'

'But you hope that I will reciprocate?'

He should have known that it was foolish to try to manipulate her, however well intentioned and even in an area of which she knew so little. He smiled at her fondly and spoke sincerely.

'Only if you want to. You don't owe me nothin'.'

She looked down shyly. 'I do want to but... I might not be very good at it.'

He kissed her reassuringly and then unbuttoned his pants. With a glance to make sure she was ready, he freed his cock from his drawers and let it lay where she could see it. Her cheeks burned deep red but still she looked with interest.

'Seen one afore?' he asked. He knew her attackers hadn't got that far but that was all he knew.

'Yes and no.' Her voice was shaky. 'I have seen young boys... and the natives of some lands that I visited with Charles... and statues, of course.'

'Statues with no clothes on?' he asked in surprise.

'Yes, classical nudes but they are not usually...' she made a vague gesture, as if to say 'like that'.

'Proud?'

'If that is the word for it. I once saw a painting in a gentleman's bedroom that showed a man and a woman... well... expressing their affection.'

'A fella showed you that?'

She giggled. 'No, his sister showed me and she wasn't supposed to know about it. It was hidden behind a hanging. We thought it terrible... and fascinating.'

'Yeah,' he laughed. 'Things we ain't meant to see have a way of bein' fascinatin'.'

He pulled her closer beside him and put his arm around her so that his right hand covered hers. Slipping his fingers between hers, he lifted her hand and rested it on his cock. His pulse beat against her palm.

'Okay?'

She nodded.

He curled his fingers so that they pressed hers around it. She gripped it, too tight for comfort.

'Relax,' he whispered into her ear. 'Gently does it.'

She adjusted her grip.

'That's better.'

He guided her in rolling his foreskin up and down his shaft, staying with her until she had mastered the movement and then letting her try it alone. She wasn't very good, finding the rhythm difficult to maintain and pinching him a couple of times, but he had been prepared for that. It didn't matter. His excitement at her touch, heightened by the knowledge that no other man had felt it, was more intense than anything a more proficient lover could have given in its place.

Abandoning himself to his own pleasure, he nuzzled her hair and watched her movements through half-closed eyes. He had denied himself relief for days and the pressure, whether from his balls or his mind he could not be sure, seemed almost unbearable. He pushed his shirt clear.

She was moving too slowly but he did not correct her, getting a curious kind of pleasure from prolonging the act even though he was aching for a release of the building tension. Then she paused and leaned over, as if to take a closer look. He was about to protest, to beg her to continue, when she did the last thing he'd expected. Her tongue traced around the head of his cock and then plunged inquisitively into its eye.

'Whoa,' he said, startled, as he tried pull her away.

It was too late. His errant cock, entirely without his permission, spat in her face. His ejaculate hit her just below the nose, ran down over her lips and then dribbled stickily from her chin.

'Hell, I'm sorry,' he said, hastily reaching into his pocket for the clean handkerchief he'd put there for cleaning up. 'I wasn't expectin' you to do that.'

He wasn't expecting what she did next either. She traced her lips with the tip of her tongue and then wrinkled her nose.

'Do I taste that bad?'

He laughed. 'I like the way you taste, but I've heard that the lady gets the raw end of the deal that way.'

He actually knew precisely what he tasted like because he'd tried it. It was okay but he preferred the taste of a woman. He knew that some women managed to develop a liking for taking men in their mouths but he certainly hadn't planned to ask Helena for such services any time soon.

He wiped her face with the handkerchief.

'I didn't mean for that to happen.'

She looked downcast. 'I told you I wouldn't be very good.'

'You were plenty good,' he said, with more tact than truth. 'I'll be back for more, iffin you'll have me.'

Her face brightened. 'I should like that. I know that I ought not to be doing this but... it was lovely.'

'Ain't like we're hurtin' no one.'

'No. I am not sure that I understand what is right any more but I find it difficult to see that this is wrong.' She looked as if she wanted to say more.

'What?' he prompted. 'Y'can ask me anythin'. Reckon you know that by now.'

'You do that for yourself? As you showed me?'

He nodded and admitted, 'Kinda have to.'

'But the Church entreats a man to abstain from such acts.'

'Does it?' That was news to Vin. 'Well, iffin he don't, it finds its way out one way or another.'

'Nocturnal emissions?'

Both words were familiar to Vin, although he'd never heard them together in the same sentence. 'That what they call 'em?' He laughed. 'Yeah, well, I prefer to suit myself when they happen.'

'I can imagine that you might,' she said lightly, but then her expression clouded over again. 'I wonder if I shall ever be able to return to my home. So much has happened... I am no longer the innocent young thing who left there to explore the world with her outcast brother.'

'Life has a way of leavin' its mark.'

'On you too?'

'Oh, yeah. You better believe it.'

She raised her eyebrows.

'We'll talk on it one day,' he promised. 'It's past now.'

He was surprised at the certainty with which he said that, having no idea when his problems had moved from the present into the past. All he knew was that he wanted Helena to stay, wanted to find some way to build a life with her and saw no place for his past - or hers - in that. If she had been able to stand alongside her brother, with all that entailed, he thought that she could learn to stand alongside him.

'I jus' wanna take some time for ourselves right now,' he told her. 'Now the troubles're behind us, seems like time t'think about what's ahead.'

'I hope that it will be a very long road.'

'Can't argue with that,' he agreed.

Even if, one day, that meant the very long road to her home, he found himself hoping that he would be traveling it right beside her.

Continued in Love Hath No Decay

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The title was inspired by a quotation from Modern Man in Search of a Soul written by Carl Gustav Jung in 1933:

The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed.

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