"Shore didn't expect to see you again, Son." The sheriff reached across his desk and shook Galen's hand.

"Didn't expect to be back. You send those papers off I asked you to?"

"I did. Same day you left, on the next stage through."

"Ever hear anything back?"

"Nope. Why, somethin' wrong?"

Galen related briefly, what had happened after he left Pine Ridge. He mentioned the registry office man, Braun, asking if the sheriff knew him.

"Nope, never met him. He's here you say?"

"Yep, and it's about the bank draft I cashed. He told me all about it on the stage. Didn't know who he was tellin' though. I just let him talk."

"So, why are you back?"

"Preston is still trying to squash that land transfer, and I aim to set him straight."

The sheriff folded his hands and tapped the thumbs together. "Any law breakin' and I'll have to step in. You know that, right?"

"He's already breakin' it, Sheriff."

"Don't mean you can too."

"Are you his man?"

The hands came apart and pressed flat on the desk as he arose out of the chair. "I ain't nobody's man but my own - and you better get that straight right now."

"Fair enough. I don't aim to start any trouble, but f it comes I won't be steppin' aside."

"I've come to respect you, Mr. Helliwell, so don't make me change that view."

It was almost noon by the time Galen finished with the sheriff and checked on the horses, and he felt a quick drink before bracing Preston was in order. He thought of Lydia and wondered if he might see her there; she had mentioned a meeting at noon. Galen hopped up the steps and through the doors into the saloon.

The bartender nodded and leaned on the top, waiting for his order. Galen smiled, said whiskey and turned to look around the room. His first feeling was shock, then he blinked and pinched the bridge of his nose. Lydia and Preston! He heard the bartender put his drink down and he turned back, tossing it down in one gulp.

"Another?"

"Maybe later." He walked slowly toward the comfortable setting, where Preston was concentrating on something Lydia was saying.

Galen stopped at their table and they both looked. Surprise from one, and disbelief from the other.

"Galen! I didn't expect to see you this soon." Lydia gave a short laugh and touched Preston's arm. "Mr. Preston, this is a friend of mine, Mr. He--"

Her hand was slapped away and she cried out. "I know who he is."

"You owe the lady an apology, Preston."

With a vein bulging on his forehead, he slammed a fist on the table and jumped up from his seat. Galen stepped back, watching for the sleeve gun he knew Preston wore.

"Better calm down, Preston, you're gonna bust your heart."

Preston pushed past him and stomped toward the bar, hollering a name.

"Lydia, how do you know him?" Galen leaned toward her, eyes wide.

"I don't, I was meeting him about the job. He owns the saloon." Her hand went to her mouth. "What is this about, Galen?"

"This was my personal business." He was interrupted as an argument broke out near the bar. Preston and two men that looked like gun sharks were berating the bartender about them causing trouble when there were other customers, and a lady in the saloon.

One of Preston's men stuck his gun in the bartenders face and told him to get down on the floor. Galen moved well away from the table Lydia was at, and faced the three men.

"Is that him, Preston? That the sidewinder that put my brother in prison?"

"It is, and he made a big mistake coming back here."

"Don't look like much to me. Hard to believe he took Reilly." Nash thumbed off the thong on his pistol's hammer. "You remember my brother, Reilly Fitzgerald?"

"I do now, seein' you - all hat." Galen focused on the one called Nash, but his peripheral vision clocked the other two, and Preston with his sleeve gun. Not much from the distance they were apart, but a lucky shot could be deadly.

The man next to Nash stepped forward, his hand resting on the butt of his gun. "Lemme bed him down, Nash, we'll see who's all hat."

"He's mine, Piney. All mine.' Nash pulled the other man back by the shoulder. "Ya must took Reilly from behind 'cause there ain't no way a dude like you coulda outdrew him. Think you can take me from the front . . . Dude?"

"Why don't you just hobble yer lip, and let Preston and me settle our business." Galen willed himself to relax, knowing the man wasn't backing down.

"For Reilly!" Nash barked.

The foolish announcement gave Galen the split second he needed, and his gun flew out, blazing. Nash yelped in surprise, spinning away into Preston, embracing him, and carrying both men over a table onto the floor. Piney turned instinctively to follow the action, then turned back, gun lifting as he did, only to feel the burn of a bullet high in his chest. He dropped where he stood.

Preston was fumbling Nash's body off of him and scrambling toward the table where Lydia was sitting - shocked. Galen moved in the same direction, and as Preston's arm came up, he fired right into his hand. The scream was loud as his fingers burned, and the sleeve gun discharged. Lydia threw herself sideways out of the chair and landed at Galen's feet, choking back a scream.

➰➰➰➰➰

"I told yuh about causin' trouble, Helliwell." The sheriff stood by the bar, his glance passing over the bodies on the floor.

"He never gave me a chance to talk, Sheriff. You can ask him, or the lady over there."

The sheriff turned to the bartender. "Well, Ben?"

"He' right, Sheriff. Preston ran and got his men as soon as he saw Mr. Helliwell. I even tried to stop him but- well . . ." The shrug was helpless.

"Doc says Preston's hand may have to come off. Your bullet and the firing of his sleeve gun pretty much made skilly of it."

Galen looked to where two of the saloon's women were comforting Lydia. "Am I free to go, Sheriff?"

"Consarn it, Helliwell. You just made my day a mess of paperwork for the judge. Dependin' on how it reads, you may have to face him."

"I have two witnesses, Sheriff. Nash made the first move. The other one woulda shot me, and Preston also tried. It was self-defence."

"Bah! Let me get them to sign somethin' in writin' and I'll talk to the judge. Just hang around for a day 'til it's done."

Galen nodded his appreciation and walked over to where Lydia sat.

"You alright, Miss St. Clair?"

"I'm not sure. What on earth happened? What was that all about?"

"I said before, it's real complicated."

"Well since you shot the man who was going to hire me, and now I have come all this way to remain unemployed, I think you un-complicate for me."

With a weary sigh and a smile, he took her arm and led her past the group carrying the two bodies from the saloon, and steered her around to the hotel doors.

"That was jaw dropping, Mr. Helliwell." Edward beamed from his post at the desk.

"Not somethin' to admire, Edward. Somethin' to steer wide of if you're smart." He replied, helping Lydia up the stairs to her room.

"You sounded like you regretted what happened, to that young man." She said as they entered the room.

"I do. It wasn't my intention to get into a shoot-out."

"What did you intend?"

"To tell Preston what happened," he waved a hand backwards, dismissing an explanation, "and to warn him off trying anything else. It was over."

"What was over?"

"You want to get comfortable," he said, "this is a long story."

She chuckled uncertainly. "It would seem I have nothing but time now."

➰➰➰➰➰

The mayor's office was a riot of noise. Council members clamouring for attention. Arguments drowning out the chair's gavel. Fists clutching documents raised in anger. The smashing of the glass brought a sudden silence to the room, and faces all directed toward the man standing on the mayor's desk.

"Any more of this and I'll have you all thrown in jail with Preston! Now shut up and settle down. We discuss this as adults, or you can all clear out and I'll make a decision for myself."

The murmuring faded, and the members reluctantly took their seats. The man jumped down from the desk and sat behind it.

"Alright. I know this is a huge disruption for the town, but facts are facts - and don't none of you pretend this is a huge surprise. Dieter Preston has had his own way for a long time, owning most everything here . . . as well as a lot of you." The accusation brought another round of protest, but this time the gavel shut it down.

"Don't deny it. And don't think it ain't known. This business has the Territory Marshall makin' his way here as we speak. Preston's days are done in Pine Ridge, and you can bet he won't leave quietly."

Several members clutched their heads, some even left the room, and the mayor closed the meeting with a warning.

"None of us are going to come out of this with clean hands."