Artemus Gordon and James West rode into Skull Valley just as the sun was starting to set and reigned their mounts to a halt in the hard-packed yard that fronted the sturdy ranch house at its center. "Hello the house!" West called out.

A man stepped out on the porch with a rifle tucked in the hollow of his arm. He was short and compactly built with longish brown hair and sharp amber eyes; he walked with a pronounced limp. The man's face lit up and his grip on the rifle relaxed when he saw who his visitors were. "Jim! Long time no see!"

"Same here, Jesse." West dismounted and tossed his horse's reins over the hitching post. "Don't think you've met my partner…"

"Artemus Gordon," Jesse finished for him. He shook West's hand with a firm grip and then offered his hand to Gordon. "Agent Gordon, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. Welcome to Skull Valley!"

"It's a pleasure to meet you, too," Gordon commented, returning the handshake. "You've got a beautiful place here - and it's Artemus, please."

"Jesse," the shorter man responded in kind. "Charlie!" he called out in the direction of the barn. "Charlie, it's okay; it's Jim and his partner!"

A tall, lanky man stepped out of the barn, also carrying a rifle. "Hey Jim! Way to warn us you were coming!"

"We decided it would be safer just to ride out here," West replied. "You guys having some trouble?"

Jesse just shrugged. "Skull Valley is a strange place, you know that," he said dismissively - but West noticed that neither he nor Charlie had put down their rifles. "I should be asking you the same question. Safer?"

"Only from nosy telegraph operators and express riders," Gordon said.

"We have some news that I think might mean a lot to you," West elaborated. "But the three of you are the only ones that need to hear it." He looked around, feeling a slight prickling at the back of his neck that betokened danger somewhere near. "Your trouble go on two legs or four?"

"Depends," Charlie answered, his eyes narrowing. A loud whinny startled everyone, and he spun back toward the stable and fired at a creeping black…shape that had appeared out of nowhere and looked like it was about to leap toward them. The rifle roared, and the creature fell to the ground and then vanished. "Thanks, Zombie!" Charlie yelled out, and a loud, agreeable neigh came from inside the barn. He turned back to the other men with a rather grim smile as he reloaded. "At least they clean up after themselves."

"Nice shot, Charlie," Jesse said, lowering his own rifle. "I don't think we'll see any more tonight."

The tall man's eyes narrowed. "You have a feeling?"

Jesse's gaze went unfocussed and distant, and then he nodded. Charlie nodded too and slapped him on the shoulder; Jesse blinked and shook himself. "I'll go tell Maya to set two extra plates for supper," he said. "Charlie will help you settle your horses in the barn for the night."

West watched him turn and limp back into the house with a frown. "Charlie?"

"Like the man said, Skull Valley is a strange place," Charlie replied with a shrug. "You did fill your partner in on all of this before you rode in, right?"

"He did," Artemus said, looking thoughtful. "I found some of the subtle similarities between the two stories to be intriguing, especially the South American connection."

Charlie froze. "Did you just say…two stories?" he squeaked. "And similarities?"

West patted his shoulder. "We'll tell you all about it over supper."


They all retired to the spacious front porch after supper to enjoy the cooling night breeze. Jesse finally broke the silence; he'd been looking over Juliet's drivers' license, wondering at the strangely alien feel of the smooth, once-familiar plastic under his fingers. "You're sure she'll be all right in Four Corners? It worries me that the other Baxter sister is still on the loose - and she knows where Juliet is. And with that rift only half a day's ride away…"

West just smiled. "You're really going to get into this big brother thing, aren't you?"

"Probably; making up for lost time in the family department, I guess." Jesse smiled too. "You say it's only two, three days' ride from here? I'd kind of like to get acquainted with my 'long lost little sister' before the wedding."

"Would be a good idea," Charlie seconded thoughtfully from his seat on the steps; he was watching the light breeze toss the treetops against the star-spangled indigo sky. "Would reinforce the story for the locals, too; it would only make sense that her 'long-lost older brother' would come riding in as fast as he could to check out the guy his baby sister is marrying, make sure everything is kosher and all that."

"But that is one of the reasons I want to…"

Charlie snorted. "I rest my case. Are you boys headed back that way?"

Artemus shook his head. "Not until the wedding," he said. "Although I confess that I'm worried about the 'unfinished business' involved in this situation as well…"

"He means he's having trouble remembering he's not really Juliet's uncle," West teased. "He asked me yesterday if I thought there was a family resemblance."

"There is a resemblance," his partner said, unruffled. "We both have black hair."

"Yep, that'll do," Charlie drawled, sharing an amused look with West. "By the time these two get through, Jim, poor Juliet is gonna believe they're related too." He turned his attention back to the shadow-dimmed panorama of Skull Valley stretched out before him. "So, are you going to tell the President?"

Gordon cleared his throat. "Just the President. I'm certain he'll understand why it's best to leave Juliet alone."

"If nothing else, he'll leave her alone as a favor to us," West agreed. "President Grant trusts our judgment when it comes to this kind of decision, even if he doesn't always agree with it - that's why we don't report to anybody but him in the first place."

Jesse shook his head, fixing the two Secret Service agents with a worried gaze. "But Grant won't be President forever, guys. What happens then?"

The question was a shock…until the two men remembered what both Juliet and Jesse had told them about the state of American politics in their own world. "I honestly don't know," West said slowly, sharing a troubled look with his partner, who shrugged. "I guess we'll just cross that bridge when we come to it."

Charlie frowned and turned his attention back to the view. "If there's a bridge there," he murmured softly, making mental note of a few likely places to build a second house…just in case.

* * * * * * *

Judge Orrin Travis admitted to himself that he was concerned about the state of affairs in Four Corners. He hadn't been to the town in several months, having been attending to family business back East, and what little snippets he had gleaned from his daughter-in-law's infrequent letters and his oft-delayed weekly copy of the Clarion had inflamed his worries instead of easing them. There was just too much not being said…and Orrin Travis didn't appreciate being left out of the loop. So instead of going straight to Mary's house when he got off the afternoon stage, he had instead instructed the stage driver to see that his bags were taken to the Clarion office and had set out to have a look around.

The day had been typically hot for late August and the streets were quiet and mostly deserted; he didn't see many changes from the last time he'd visited except for a late-summer garden gracing the side of the church and what looked like some renovations being done to the old Ramsey house at the north end of town. The hotel appeared to be doing quite a bit of business considering the time and the weather, however, but the rich smells that were drifting out of the building convinced him to go inside to find out what was going on instead of just asking Mary about it later. Finding an isolated table, he settled in mostly unnoticed and took a good look around.

What he saw, astoundingly enough, was afternoon tea - something served at many restaurants back East but almost unheard of in the West. He said as much to Jenny Abbott when she bustled over to wait on him and was surprised by her response. "Civilization is what you make of it," she informed him. "There was an Englishman come through about a week ago bemoaning the absence of teatime 'round these parts and those were his words exactly when Julie fixed something up to please him. He wound up staying three days, and by the time he left we actually had enough folks coming around wanting afternoon tea that it would have been silly of me not to keep on having it."

"It does look like you're doing a good business on it," Orrin agreed. "Julie…that's the little Southern girl that lives with the Potters, isn't it? I seem to remember Mary writing to me about her. Did anyone ever find out where she belongs?"

To his amazement he saw several patrons who'd been in earshot of his question turn in their seats with distinctly unfriendly expressions aimed his way and Mrs. Abbott stiffened. "She is where she belongs," the woman told him firmly, a clear note of warning in her voice. "I'd not want to be the person who tried to say different, that I wouldn't. Will you be wanting tea or coffee, Judge?"

"Tea, please, Mrs. Abbot." She left without another word, and the judge sat back in his chair with a thoughtful look on his face. Here, then, was one of the loops he'd been left out of; granted he may have missed out on some of his mail, but he was certain that Mary's only comments regarding the girl had been related to her living arrangements and the mystery of her arrival in Four Corners. Considering the unexpectedly hostile response an innocent question had garnered, though, Orrin didn't think a series of pointed inquires would go over very well at all; that meant his next stop was the newspaper office to have a talk with Mary…

Mrs. Abbott came back with tea and a plate of sweet biscuits, but in spite of the suspicious frown she was still wearing she didn't say anything else. The judge maintained his silence as well - not hard to do once he'd sampled the biscuits, and he ended by eating more of them than was probably good for him. Leaving a generous tip on the table once he was finished, he made his way down the street to the Clarion and walked in. "Mary!"

The newspaperwoman was bending over her press, setting type; she immediately put down the tray and straightened, frowning. "Orrin, the stage driver brought your bags an hour ago, I was starting to worry. Is something wrong?"

"You tell me," he said in a dry voice. "I stopped in over at the hotel and Jenny Abbott just about bit my head off when I asked about that little Southern girl she has working for her. Why don't you tell me what's wrong?"

Mary sighed. "My last letter must not have caught up with you. It's not Jenny's fault, everyone's still a little skittish after what happened." She circled around her desk to sit down and Orrin took the visitor's chair. "Remember when I wrote you about those two strange girls that were locked up in the jail for a few days?" He nodded. "Well, it turns out that they were some kind of outlaws from Denver. In a nutshell, they kidnapped Juliet, she got away from them somehow and ended up here, and then when they escaped from the nuns at Fort Laramie they headed back to Four Corners to finish what they started - which apparently involved killing her in some sort of ritual." He raised an eyebrow at that and she shrugged. "That's what they told everyone after they got her back from them this last time, just about three weeks ago. I didn't understand it either and none of them will explain it to me, and after I tried to talk to that uncle of hers Chris came by and ordered me not to bring it up again!"

Orrin hid a smile; Mary wasn't the type of woman who took orders, and he imagined she'd been making life hell for Larabee for trying to give her one. "Did you try just asking the girl?"

She snorted. "I'd have Jenny and Gloria both out for my blood if I did - and Mr. Standish and Mr. Sanchez would probably have more than a few words to say to me as well."

That surprised him. "Sanchez I understand," he said slowly, worrying again. "He's got a fatherly streak a mile wide, but what possible interest could Ezra Standish have in the matter?"

Mary's eyes widened. "That's right, you don't know about that either," she said. "I'm sorry, Orrin; Ezra and Juliet are engaged, the wedding is to be next month."

"Wedding?!" the judge exclaimed disbelievingly. "And just how did that happen - I thought you said she was a child!"

"That was my first impression," Mary admitted a little shamefacedly. "A lot of people's, in fact, because she's so small and delicate and the clothes she was wearing when she first came here were too big and that didn't help either. But she's in her twenties and from what I could gather she's been on her own in the world for some time - she didn't even know for sure that the uncle was alive until he and his partner showed up in town last month, apparently they'd been out of the country and only just recently returned. His name is Artemus Gordon and I think he works for the government."

Orrin started and slowly straightened in his chair. "Was his partner's name West, Mary?" Mystified, she nodded; he nodded too. "That explains that, then; let Chris off the hook, girl, he had good reason for telling you to let it alone." Mary bristled and the judge chuckled grimly. "He was protecting you, you see; Gordon and West are Secret Service agents, two of Grant's most trusted men. They approved of her marrying Standish?"

"Mr. Gordon seemed to be ecstatic about it," she replied slowly. "They're coming back for the wedding, he's giving the bride away. Secret Service? I wonder if the kidnappings had something to do with…"

"Leave it alone, Mary," Orrin ordered, frowning at her. "The boys and I may represent the law but those two are above it; trust me, this is one can of worms that shouldn't be opened for curiosity's sake because it would probably explode in your hand." He leaned forward, catching and holding her eyes. "Now promise me you'll forget all about this and not bring it up again." She started to protest and he cut her off before she could get started. "Mary, if you go against me this time it is not going to be just a few angry ranchers and hired guns, do you understand?"

The newspaperwoman winced; the two of them had had words in private last year over the stand she was taking and he had advised her strongly to back down a little before she caused real problems for the town. She hadn't listened that time, and the results had been disastrous for all concerned. "It's that serious? Those two are that dangerous?"

"You're surrounded by men who are that dangerous, myself included," Orrin told her, relaxing again as he saw she had taken his point. "But that aside, you've lived out West long enough to know not to fool around when blood ties are involved; even a rabbit will turn mean on you if you mess with one of its kits, and Artemus Gordon is no rabbit." He stood up and stretched. "I think I'll go run down Larabee, get him to fill me in on everything else I don't know about. Don't wait dinner for me; I'm afraid I had a few too many biscuits over at the hotel just now."

"Biscuits? Oh, they must have run out of tarts." She laughed at the look on his face and the tension was broken. "I'm sure she'll make them again, Orrin - Jenny told me her cellar is absolutely bursting with jam, I think they're trying to clear some of it out so it won't go to waste. You're going to be here for a week, right?"

"Don't have to rush this time," he confirmed. "I'll be back after a while, Mary."


He strolled casually back across the street to the saloon and found the man he was seeking in his usual spot. Larabee seemed happy to see him; Travis could only imagine that the gunslinger was assuming - correctly - that his presence in town would make Mary let up on her grudge. Chris had insisted on moving their conversation to the jail for privacy's sake; once he started talking Orrin understood why. "Good lord, Chris, I'm amazed they didn't lynch Jackson when that came out!"

"Men have been hung for less," Chris agreed. "We don't need that sort of goings on around here, though, so the boys and I did our best to put him in his place after it happened. Didn't think it was going to take until Mary found out what was going on and laid into him - and even then he still let loose a few times." He snorted. "Ezra deserves a medal for not killin' him; I would have."

"What would you have done if Standish had called him out?" the judge wanted to know.

"Watched," Larabee drawled coolly. "Set someone to patch Nathan up when it was over; Ez is more accurate than I am, he wouldn't have had to aim to kill."

"Hopefully we won't ever have to find out," Orrin said with an invisible shudder; he was thinking that the town was lucky Ezra Standish was not the unprincipled man he often appeared to be. "So how do things stand now?"

"Gettin' better." Chris leaned back in the chair and stretched out his legs. "A lot of the hard feelings are starting to soften up now that Nate is learning to think before he talks." He decided to change the subject. "Don't know if Mary told you or not, but Josiah has decided he's a preacher again."

That raised an eyebrow but Travis was not to be deterred. "Interesting. What about those outlaws you were having trouble with, the ones that were after the girl?"

"Dead," Larabee said flatly. "All but one, anyway, and if that one has half the sense God gave a mule she's in Mexico by now and not plannin' to come back."

"So it was one of those two girls that got away? Weren't they awfully young to be about that sort of thing?"

"William Bonney is young too," was the reply. "They were animals, Judge, absolutely rabid; I'd never seen anything like 'em and neither had Gordon and West. And after what we caught them trying to do…well, that Catie Baxter had best never show her face within twenty miles of this town if she wants to live."

Travis frowned. "They were really trying to sacrifice the girl? That doesn't seem plausible in this day and age."

"Maybe not, but that's what they were trying to do," Chris countered. "Heard them say it myself, that they were going to cut her heart out." He smiled, just a little grimly. "And that's when Miss Julie told them that even if they killed her Ezra and the rest of us would hunt them down. That little woman's got sand, you have to give her that."

There was just the slightest emphasis on the word woman and Orrin considered himself corrected. "Did you find out why they wanted to do such a thing? And why her?"

Chris hesitated; now part of West's burden of secrecy belonged to him and he was feeling the weight of it. "Josiah says that the purer the victim, the more powerful the ritual," he said finally. "It made sense that they would set their sights on Miss Julie with that in mind. And as for their reasons…" He sighed and shook his head. "It's…a matter of national security, Judge, so I really can't say anything about it."

One corner of Orrin's mouth twisted up in a wry grin. "That what West told you to say?"

"Yep - and we all agreed, too." Chris looked for a challenge, didn't find one, and relaxed again. "And none of it really matters now anyway. She's here, they're gone, and we're having a wedding next month, end of story."

"Yes, I guess it would be." The older man gave the younger a sideways glance. "So who gets to stand up for the groom?"

"None of us," Larabee told him, grinning himself. "Ezra made a right nice speech to all of us one night in the saloon, said he'd promised a friend down Mississippi way the job if the time ever came again and he couldn't rightly ask anyone else. And apparently that wasn't his only friend; he sent off a stack of letters that would choke a horse as soon as they'd set the date."

"September is a lucky month for weddings," Travis observed. "My wife and I were married in September. Did he tell his mother yet?"

"No." Larabee's grin faded somewhat. "He told me in private about his reasons for not letting her know, though, and I respect them - and he warned me what we could expect once she does find out, and he doesn't aim for that to happen until after the wedding."

"I could see that," Orrin said thoughtfully. "Having met Mrs. Standish and seen the way she keeps trying to tie that boy to her apron strings, I could see how she wouldn't be happy to find out the strings he finally took hold of were attached to someone else's apron. The woman just doesn't like to lose."

"She'll have to get used to it." Chris peeled himself out of his chair and grabbed his hat. "If Mary's not waiting dinner for you you could join us all over at the hotel, we could catch you up on the rest of what you've missed."

The judge started to tell Larabee what he'd told Mary and then he thought about how good those sweet biscuits had been and decided that maybe he wasn't as full as he'd thought. "She's not and I'd be glad to, I've been away much too long this time. It's not good for a man in my position to fall so far behind on the local goings on."


JD and Buck were already at the hotel when Chris arrived with the judge and Vin arrived soon after, his long hair showing the wet tracks of a comb. Nathan and Josiah wandered in just as Mrs. Abbott put out the first plate of biscuits on the table. "Julie said to warn you that some of the sweet biscuit dough might have gotten into this batch by mistake; you'll just have to eat them to find out." She slapped back several hands with the towel she'd been carrying as they shot toward the plate. "Manners, gentlemen, or you can go eat somewhere else; Mr. Sanchez, you should be ashamed of yourself. I expect every one of those biscuits to still be there when I come back out with your dinner."

She bustled back out leaving several shamefaced men in her wake. Ezra chose that moment to join them, pulling up a chair between Vin and Josiah. "And are you ashamed of yourself, Mr. Sanchez?" he teased.

"Only because I wasn't fast enough," the big preacher chuckled. "You're late."

"Unavoidable," the gambler replied, shaking out his napkin. "There was an unauthorized equine competition goin' on in the meadow west of town."

"Were you judgin' or bettin'?" Buck wanted to know.

"Stoppin'," Ezra answered. "The local rodent population has expanded into that area, it would have been a shame to be forced to destroy any of the horses over a bit of foolishness like that. Anyway, I sent the participants back to their respective domiciles with a stern admonishment not to be so thoughtless in the future."

"Meanin' the boys were racin' in a field the prairie dogs have got into and you chewed 'em out for riskin' their horses and then sent them all back home and told 'em not to do it again, is that it?" Vin asked with a mischievous grin.

"Mr. Tanner, you excel at restating the obvious," Ezra countered dryly. Vin all too obviously took umbrage for that remark and the gambler jumped. "Kindly keep your wanderin' hands to yourself, ah am spoken for!" he scolded, doing a fair imitation of an offended belle.

Vin blushed and everyone else laughed; Travis looked at Larabee, who just rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Boys," he said warningly, shooting a sharp look at Buck to keep him from joining the fray. "Settle down unless you want to be eatin' in the barn." Two overly innocent looks; Chris scowled. "By way of the horse trough - and that goes for the rest of you, too."

Mrs. Abbott came back out just then so no one had a chance to put the gunslinger's threat to the test. She put the first three plates down in front of Chris, Judge Travis and JD and then whisked back into the kitchen for the rest. Orrin looked down at the steaming soup bowl on his plate and sniffed appreciatively; it contained what looked like beef and beans but not like any beef and beans he'd ever seen served in the West. This was the kind of food he was used to seeing back East, or many years past in the congenial eating houses in the South. Well, she is supposedly from that part of the country, he reminded himself as he tucked into the meal and quickly forgot that he hadn't been all that hungry. And he found to his disappointment that it appeared none of the sweet biscuit dough had gotten in where it didn't belong - at least, it wasn't in either of the two biscuits he ate. Larabee and Sanchez had suspiciously satisfied smiles on their faces, though…

The hotel dining room was filling up, and a flash of blue coming out of the kitchen caught his eye; Orrin stopped eating to look. He saw a blue gingham work dress with a white apron tied into a bow at the back and a long black braid hanging down over it, tied off at the end with a dark blue ribbon. She was small, he saw, almost as small as a child…but when she turned to place the plate of biscuits she'd been carrying on the table it became evident that he was looking at a woman, albeit a young one…a woman with the sweet face of an Italian Madonna and thick-lashed indigo eyes that widened slightly when she noticed his scrutiny.

She wasn't the only person that noticed; three of the cowhands at the table she was taking care of looked over their shoulders with expressions best described as unfriendly to see who had gotten her attention and then just as quickly turned back around when they saw the judge. Travis looked back at his companions when he heard a throat being cleared and saw concern on three faces, a frown on the fourth and a blatant challenge in the fifth. Nathan Jackson's head was still bent over his dinner, but the look on his face said he would like say something and knew he shouldn't. Chris Larabee sighed but didn't stop eating. "I filled him in on what I could before we came over here and he's never seen her before, boys, so just back down."

Travis shook himself. "My apologies, gentlemen, but I have to admit I wasn't sure what to expect. Mr. Standish, I understand congratulations are in order?"

The challenge that had flamed in the green eyes faded somewhat. "Will you be back in town next month in time for the festivities, Judge Travis?" Ezra asked politely. "It would only be fittin' for you to be here, seein' as how it is in large part your fault ah ended up in this dusty locale to begin with."

"I didn't make you stand up for that boy," the judge chuckled. "Or tell you to break that lawyer's jaw for him, either - and no one said you had to stay here past thirty days, now did they?"

"True," the gambler agreed blandly. "But conversely, someone had to, he was askin' for it - and no one told me ah had to leave, either." A small, dimpled smile graced his features as everyone laughed - everyone except Nathan, who just applied himself a little more intently to his dinner without looking up.

Travis noticed that none of the other men appeared to be paying attention to the healer and decided it would be best to follow their lead. Instead he pushed away his now empty bowl and leaned back in his chair. "You know, you told me once that you'd kept in touch with the boy. Any idea…?"

"He followed our advice, signed on with the first cattle drive he encountered and left the whole mess behind," Ezra told him. "Somewhere along the way he developed aspirations of becomin' a lawman and he's been pursuin' that goal in Kansas evah since. I received a letter from him just last week sayin' that he and a friend are supposed to be passin' this way in the near future on their way to testify at a trial."

"He comin' to the wedding, Ez?" JD wanted to know.

The gambler shook his head. "Sadly, no; the date of the trial will have Mr. Dillon languishin' in an Albuquerque courtroom at that time. He does, howevah, plan on stoppin' over for a visit on his way, and he is particularly desirous of meetin' you, JD."

The young sheriff's eyes and mouth opened wide with astonishment. "He wants to meet me?"

Ezra nodded gravely. "Of course; as you have already successfully achieved the goal he set for himself, he is quite admirin' of you."

Buck raised an eyebrow at that and received a small shrug in response; the ladies' man smiled to himself. "Write him often, do ya, Ez?"

"Every six weeks or so," was the careless reply, and the gambler abruptly pretended to lose interest in the subject while five of the men around the table exchanged knowing grins around the still-astonished sixth.

Ezra caught Juliet's eye before she disappeared back into the kitchen and they smiled at each other; moments later she reappeared carrying a laden plate and brought it to their table, where she quickly switched it for the empty one the biscuits had been occupying. "I hope tarts will be acceptable to finish with, gentlemen," she said in her sweet, high voice. "And I hope the biscuits were all right; I was rather worried about that batch."

"The biscuits were just fine, Little Sister," Josiah boomed happily, and Travis felt he had confirmed that the preacher had gotten a sweet one. "And I don't believe I've ever seen anyone turn down one of your tarts."

The little woman blushed prettily, and Ezra quickly stepped in. "Darlin', I don't believe you've met Judge Travis, the man who is responsible for hirin' the seven of us to protect Four Corners; Judge, this is Miss Moore, my fiancee whom you've heard so much about."

Travis didn't miss the slight warning note in the gambler's introduction. "Miss Moore," he said genially, receiving a polite nod in response. "It's a pleasure to meet the woman who was able to tie the redoubtable Mr. Standish to her apron strings."

That got a general laugh, but to his surprise Juliet looked faintly scandalized and shook her head. "Never that, your honor," the small woman said seriously, blushing again. "Papa always said no real man would allow it and Mama said a good woman wouldn't even try." With an effort, the judge kept his mouth from dropping open. "Do any of you need anything else from the kitchen?"

"Only if you have another plate of them sweet biscuits stashed back there somewhere, Miss Julie," Buck piped up hopefully.

"I do, but they're for tomorrow." She frowned, looking at him. "Mr. Willmington, I could have sworn you were here for tea."

"He was," Vin told her before Buck could say a word. "Ate more than his share, too."

Juliet gave the ladies' man a reproving look she'd apparently copied from Mrs. Abbott and he wilted visibly. "But they were just so good, I couldn't help myself!"

"I'd say you most certainly did help yourself," Ezra contradicted indignantly. "You helped yourself to mine, you gluttonous heathen."

To Travis' surprise - and almost everyone else's as well - Juliet smiled. "Oh, that's all right then; no harm done," she said brightly. "If there's nothing else, gentlemen…"

"Nothing else, Little Sister," Josiah said with a chuckle. "See you bright and early." She disappeared back through the kitchen's swinging door and the preacher winked at the still-astonished gambler. "Did you ever notice what a sweet tooth Grey Owl has?" he asked slyly. "Think I may have mentioned it over a plate of those sweet biscuits one day…"

Understanding dawned and Ezra hid a grin. Buck looked from one man to the other and groaned, and Vin laughed at him. "Think I might just have to see you all off come morning," he commented, helping himself to a tart. "Make sure you get off okay and all that."

"And where are you gentlemen going?" Travis wanted to know. "Anything I should know about?"

"Just our weekly soujourn to the village," Ezra told him, wishing he could lick the jam off his fingers like JD was doing. "We are expected every Wednesday."

"Yeah, Grey Owl sent some braves to find out what was wrong when they didn't show up three weeks ago," JD chimed in. "Came ridin' into town lookin' for Little Feather, they were real upset when they found out what had happened."

The judge was starting to think he would have to persuade someone besides Mary to write to him when he was out of town - either that or he would need to stay in town more often. "Little Feather?"

"That's Miss Julie," Nathan said quietly. "Children up at the village gave her an Indian name when she started teachin' 'em a few months back. I'm surprised Miz Travis ain't told you about it."

Orrin wasn't surprised at all, considering. "She's a teacher?"

"No, she ain't…"

"And she's never claimed she is," Josiah stepped in firmly, and the healer winced slightly at the implied admonishment. "She just thinks everyone should know how to read."

"An understandable position for someone who was studyin' literature at the university level," Ezra added with just a touch of proprietary pride. "For that mattah, I'm certain she could quite easily qualify as a teacher if she desired to - most of the schoolteachers in this part of the country have far less education than mah Juliet does. But ah have yet to hear her express such a desire, nor am ah certain ah should encourage her to pursue it if she did."

"Our Little Sister has apparently never learned to back down from a job that looks like it needs doin'," Josiah rumbled, half amused, half rueful. "She does too much already; some of it no one even knew about until she got hurt and started frettin' about things not being taken care of because we wouldn't let her out of bed."

"She wasn't the only one that was frettin'," Chris said. "Once the story got around we had half the town up in arms about what happened."

"Yeah, you should've seen Old Bertram, Judge," Buck chuckled. "Old coot came stompin' into the jail day after we got back; he'd been out in the hills for a spell, came back into town and got an earful of the story over at the saloon. Lord, was he ever mad! Ain't never seen him act like that, no siree, I sure was surprised."

"You don't listen to the folks around town enough," JD replied dryly. "Talk to some of the old hands sometime and you'll hear some stories about Old Bertram that'll make you think twice; he used to hole up some bad winters over at the Bar T spread when old man Wilson was still alive, Thad Jones says he helped 'em hunt down the old Dawson gang that used to have a hideout out this way."

"That's just saloon talk," Buck denied.

"Thad Jones ain't given to saloon talk," Vin corrected. "And I've run into the old man out in the hills a time or two myself, he can track just as good as me and he's a dead shot with that long rifle."

"He and Juliet have an 'arrangement'," Ezra added. "She enlisted his aid some time back to 'sample' the food before it is served so that the payin' guests are not unpleasantly surprised; he arrives in the kitchen every evenin' he's in town at five sharp to indulge her - his very word for the activity, as a matter of fact."

Nathan started slightly. "Thought he was lookin' a mite healthier the last time I seen him," he said, half to himself. Then he frowned. "But I've tried to get the stubborn ol' fool to eat lots of times and he always put me off…"

"You just didn't go about it right," Josiah advised. "No man wants to accept charity, no matter how bad he needs it; Miss Julie is letting him keep his pride intact by havin' him do it as a favor to her and Mrs. Abbott."

"If a man's hungry he should eat," Nathan insisted. "Ain't no pride about it."

"Bet you wouldn't say the same if it was you in that situation," Chris said, apparently having the same dilemma Ezra had been faced with regarding licking his fingers. "And Vin and JD are right, Buck; Grey Owl knows about Bert Day too. Just because he's a half-crazy old coot stove up with rheumatism now don't mean he always was."

Orrin pushed back his plate with a sigh. "So tell me, gentlemen, has anything happened in Four Corners that didn't somehow involve Miss Moore?"

The men looked at each other. "The Hastings boys were plannin' to hold up the stage but we stopped them before they got there," JD offered.

"Little Toby Sinton ran away again and Mr. Tanner brought him back," Ezra added.

"Chris and Buck ran down some rustlers over by the Slash Nine," Nathan told him.

"Ezra broke a couple of swindlers and then had JD arrest them for not payin' their hotel bill," Josiah said proudly.

"And Josiah here convinced ol' Willie Benson to patch up his feud with Moses Strickley," Buck included.

Chris nodded. "And we ain't had an all-out brawl in the saloon for six weeks."

"Now that's what I like to hear, boys," the judge said heartily, smiling. "I like to hear that I'm not needed and I can spend the week fishing with my grandson."


Dinner was soon over, and the men all vacated the table with more than one regretful look at the empty plate at its center. Chris elected to walk back to the Clarion with the judge, and as they crossed the street from the hotel he chuckled and shook his head as he saw Ezra stealthily make his way around the corner of the building. "Knew he wouldn't be able to hold off."

The judge was standing in just the right spot to see the small figure in the blue calico dress and white apron meet the gambler halfway, and to witness a moment so tender it very nearly took his breath away. "Chris, are you sure?" Travis lowered his voice. "About the Baxter girl being long gone, I mean?"

Larabee looked past him, seeing the rest of the men scatter out to pursue the evening round of peacekeeping duties in the quiet, dusty little town, remembering the jagged hole in reality that had swallowed up Rissa Baxter and knowing it was the latter rather than the former that had frightened Catie Baxter away - and that, hopefully, would keep her away. "Yeah, I'm sure."