by Bobbi Smith
"Oh, she's special, all right. We all love her. She is a very talented lady."
"I see," Dan responded.
"No, you don't see," the man corrected him, understanding what he was implying and wanting to set him straight.
"But you just said she might have run off with some man named Andy."
"Miss Opal is a lady, and Andy... well, he's her biggest admirer in town, and he's also her oldest. How old do you boys think Andy is? Eighty? Ninety?"
The other men chuckled in good humor. "A hundred if he's a day," one replied.
He finally understood their joke. "Oh, well, the barkeep said she'd be back tomorrow. With all that I've heard about her, I was looking forward to seeing her performance tonight."
We all were. I guess we'll just have to satisfy ourselves with playing poker instead."
It was late when Dan left the saloon and made his way to the hotel where he'd taken a room for the night. Frustrated though he was by his sister's nonappearance, he had won handily at the poker table. He figured that was a sign his luck was finally changing. He needed some good luck for a change.
The next night Dan went to the saloon early, ready for the confrontation to come with his little sister. The Six Gun was crowded again with many of the same cowboys who'd been there the night before, and he eyed the poker tables with interest, trying to decide which game to join.
"So you did stay over to see Opal," Bill remarked as Dan came up to the bar. Bill had already made the announcement to his regular customers that Opal would not be performing that night, and he didn't look forward to telling this man about her absence.
"I had the time, and I wanted to see Opal," he explained simply.
"Well, I'm afraid I've got some bad news for you," Bill began.
Dan went still, and the look in his eyes turned cold. "What kind of bad news?"
"Miss Opal won't be performing tonight, either."
"Why not?" he ground out, barely in control.
"She's decided to take some time off," Bill said, stretching the truth.
"How much time?" Dan demanded.
Bill had known the stranger would be angry, but there was nothing he could do about it. He had checked back at the boardinghouse again that day to see if Opal had returned, only to learn that no one had seen her. She was really gone.
"I don't know."
"What do you mean, you don't know? Didn't you talk to her today?"
"No."
"Then how do you know? Where does she live? I'll go find her myself."
I already told you, I don't give out that information. Besides, it doesn't matter. Opal is gone."
"She's gone?" Dan repeated. "What do you mean, she's gone?"
"Just that. She took off."
"Why, you son of a bitch!" Dan lost what little control he had. He lunged across the bar and grabbed the bartender by the shirtfront. "You told me she would be here tonight!"
"Take it easy!" Bill struggled to break free of his hold.
The customers around them started forward to come to the bartender's aid.
"Take it easy?" Dan raged back at him. "She's been gone for more than a day now, and you're telling me to take it easy?"
"Let him go," one of the customers demanded, ready to reach for his gun to protect Bill.
Dan gave the bartender a disgusted shove backward as he released him. He stepped away and gave him a look of pure hatred. "Where did she go?"
"She didn't tell me-but even if she had, I wouldn't tell you," Bill said, reaching under the bar for his shotgun. He brought it up for the stranger to see. "Get out of my saloon. Now. We don't want your kind around here. Right, boys?"
"That's right," his customers echoed.
Dan looked around at all the men ready to fight him, and knew there was no use protesting. He backed away from the bar and didn't say another word as he left the saloon.
"I need a drink," Bill announced with obvious relief in his voice.
His customers laughed and relaxed.
"What was that all about?" Belle asked nervously, coming to his side.
"He's out to find Opal for some reason."
"Then I'm glad she's gone."
"So am I. I never knew she was in trouble. If I'd known, I would have done more to help her," Bill said with regret.
"Don't go feeling bad. You and the boys treated Opal real good while she was here. And even though you didn't know it, you did help her. If she was trying to get away from that man, you managed to give her a full day's head start."
Bill felt a little better. "Let's just hope one day is enough of a lead for her. I don't want that bastard to find her."
"I don't know why you ever started concentrating on workhorses," Jack said critically as he and Brent studied the stock in their pasture.
Brent glared at his father as he answered, "I would think that's obvious. Without them, the Half-Moon would have gone under years ago."
Jack snorted in disgust. "My plan for the thoroughbreds would have paid off."
"Your plan for the thoroughbreds nearly cost us everything." Brent stated the plain truth harshly. He had known his father's return was going to be difficult, but he'd never thought it would be this hard. "If it wasn't for these workhorses, you'd be homeless right
"From the very beginning, my dream for the Half-Moon was that it would be known for its thoroughbred racing stock."
Brent was disgusted. "That's a great dream, Pa, but a dream isn't reality. Reality is paying back what you owe people and keeping food on the table." Brent turned back to watch the horses, remembering those hard early years when he'd been trying to hold the family together and keep the ranch going.
Jack looked over at his son. It had been three weeks since he'd been released from prison-three long weeks. In all that time, it seemed they'd only been circling each other-talking at each other, but not to each other. He'd come to realize that Brent had grown into a fine man. He was smart with business and not afraid of hard work.
"Son..."
Brent warily glanced over at him, a bit surprised that he'd called him "son."
"It probably doesn't mean much to you, but I am proud of what you've done here," he said solemnly. "It couldn't have been easy for you."
Their gazes met and locked. For that one moment in time, all the ugliness of the past disappeared, and it was the way it used to be between them.
"It's been hard work, but this is our home."
"But with Quince leaving when he did, and Matt showing up only when he wanted to..." Jack shook his head in disgust. "We both know how much help Matt is."
The moment of understanding was shattered by his father's comment about Matt. Brent had never understood why Jack was always so hard on his youngest son. He'd been rough on him even before Matt had started getting into trouble. Brent defended his brother. "Matt's helped me a lot."
Jack didn't believe it for a moment. He said sarcastically, "And that's why he's here working right alongside you now."
"No, he's off chasing his dream, just like you did," Brent threw back at him, the tension between them returning. Then he added with certainty, "It may take Matt a while, but he'll be back."
"I wouldn't be so sure of that."
Brent heard the coldness in his tone and knew there was no point in discussing Matt any further. "Don't forget about Abby. She's been a lot of help around the ranch."
"She should be doing women's work, not riding with the hired hands."
It irritated Brent to realize he agreed with his father about Abby, but there was no changing her. He'd already tried. "We'd better be heading back. Tonight's the night for the social in town, and Abby won't be happy if we're late."
Brent wheeled his horse around, and Jack followed. Together they rode for the house.
Brent had been surprised when Abby had mentioned attending the social. She hadn't said why she wanted to go, but he had a feeling it had something to do with Iona. Pa had surprised him, too, by saying he wanted to go. This would be his first
trip to town since he'd returned from prison.
Brent wondered how his pa's old friends were going to react to seeing him again. He knew Edmund and Iona would be there, and Edmund would welcome Pa, but Brent wasn't sure about the other folks. He didn't know how they would treat him. He could only hope that things would go smoothly.
"Since we're going into town," Jack began, "I'm going to need some cash."
"What for?" Brent cast him a sharp glance. He was very careful with the Half-Moon's money and didn't believe in wasting a cent.
"It's none of your business what I want the money for," his father answered, bristling. "I'm not going into town with empty pockets."
Brent didn't say any more. There was no point. When they got back to the ranch, he'd give Jack some cash. Brent tried not to be irritated by his request, but he had a feeling he knew where he was going to spend it, and he didn't want to think about his father buying liquor.
Abby came out on the porch to meet them when she saw them riding up.
"I was beginning to wonder if I'd be going into Diablo by myself. You two will have to hurry and change if we're going to get to town on time." Abby's expression was worried. "I don't want Iona to arrive at the social ahead of us."
"We're late because we've been working," Brent explained.
"That's what you always say," she replied, smiling. "Please hurry. I need to be there to meet her."
"All right," Brent agreed as he dismounted and tied up his horse. It wasn't often that he wanted to attend any social functions in town. He had little time for having fun. He had ranch work to do. But Abby was determined to go, and now Pa was, too, so he would go with them.
"How soon can you be ready?"
"Half hour."
"I'll be waiting for you."
"You planning on going to town looking like one of the hired hands?" Jack demanded.
Abby had had this same argument so many times with Brent that her father's criticism didn't trouble her at all. She gave him a proud look. "It doesn't matter what I wear. I'm not going to the social to be social, Papa. I'm only going because Iona asked me to." She turned her gaze to her brother. "Iona needs a friend right now, and I seem to be the only one who cares about her."
Brent and Jack hurried inside to pack what they needed to spend the night in town. They would stay at the hotel tonight and return home after church services the following morning.
Jack turned to Brent and said sarcastically, "I can see you raised her well."
"No," Brent said. "Abby raised herself. You saw to that."
Jack flushed at his remark and didn't say anything more.
"There were days when I thought I'd never see this town again," Jack remarked to Abby as he drove the buckboard down Main Street and Brent rode alongside. "It's changed."
"Yes, it has changed some," she agreed.
"Is the church still on First Street?"
"Yes, and there's a new hotel on the corner of First and Main," she pointed out, making small talk. The truth was, she was nervous. There was no telling what people would do when they saw her father.
As they passed the sheriffs office, Jack fell silent. Of all that was different in town, the sheriffs office had not changed-not one bit. He remembered every detail of the place far too clearly for his own peace of mind, and he deliberately looked away.
"Sheriff Miller's moved on," Brent offered. He'd noticed how uncomfortable his pa had looked and thought the news might help ease his mood a little.
"Who's the new man?"
"Mitch Dawson. He's a good sheriff."
Jack only nodded in response. He found himself wondering if the Lone Star Saloon was still in business. He hoped it was. He needed a drink badly. He planned to head over there the first chance he got, while Brent and Abby were at the social.
"So what kind of men have you got chasing after you, Abby?" Jack asked. "Are Brent and I going to have to fight them off tonight?"
"I never learned to dance," she admitted truthfully. Her gaze met Brent's. They both knew that it didn't matter if she knew how to dance or not, for none of the men in town would think of asking her.
Jack shook his head. "Your mother was a good dancer. If she were alive, she would have taught..." He fell silent when he realized what he'd been saying. He could feel the anger radiating from Brent and Abby.
"Yes, if she had lived," Abby said softly. "If she had lived."
"Well..." Jack wanted to change the subject. "You're pretty enough to need protecting, even if you can't dance."
Before Brent could say anything, Abby put in, "If anybody is going to need protection tonight, it's going to be Brent. I just bet Melinda is already counting the minutes until she gets to see you again."
"I hope not," Brent stated.
"Who's Melinda?" Jack asked.
"Her name is Melinda Barton, and she's very fond of Brent." Abby gave her brother a knowing look.
"Has her family been in town long?" Jack wondered, not recognizing the name.
"About four or five years, I guess," Brent offered. "Her father runs the stage office."
"And you're going to marry her?" he asked bluntly.
"No," Brent answered quickly, startled by his father's question. He hadn't even thought about marriage. It had been only in the last few months that he'd even allowed himself to pay attention to any of the girls in town. He was too caught up in taking care of things out at the Half-Moon to worry about women.
"Well, if Melinda has her way..." Abby began, then stopped when Brent glared at her.
They were silent until they reached the hotel and checked in.
"I'm going over to the town hall to meet Iona. Will you put my things in my room for me?" she asked her father and brother.
"You really are going to the social in those clothes?" Jack asked, frowning at her.
Abby did not reply as she headed for the door.
Edmund accompanied Iona to the town hall. She'd started drinking her sherry early that morning. She disgusted him. Her drinking was the talk of the town, while his own reputation as a patient, longsuffering husband was growing almost as quickly. Grateful to escape her, he went to supervise as the other men got things ready for the festive evening to come. Only the thought that Abby would be at the social made the prospect of spending the evening in his wife's company bearable. He knew he would have to be careful how he acted around Abby. He didn't want anyone to guess what he was really thinking about her, but at least setting eyes on her again would offer him some satisfaction.
Edmund headed over to join the men, casting one last glance back toward where the women were gathered. It was then that he saw Abby coming up the street. He stopped for a moment, just to watch her approach.
Abby was young-she was ripe. Just the way he liked them. Best of all, she was the image of her mother-even dressed as a ranch hand.
At once it both annoyed Edmund to see her wearing pants and excited him, too, for he could see her long, shapely legs, and imagine more easily what she would look like unclothed.
Edmund wanted her, but knew he couldn't have her. Heat filled him, and with the heat came frustration. Fighting it down, he turned away. He couldn't be too obvious about paying attention to Abby. He didn't want to cause any talk.
"I see little Abby's here," Cecil remarked as Edmund joined him. "I wonder if Jack is going to show up, too? I heard talk that he was out of prison and back living at the ranch."
"Yes, Jack is back," Edmund told him.
"You've seen him?" He was surprised.
"I was out at the Half-Moon a few weeks ago, right after he returned."
"I can't believe he's out already. Ten years behind bars doesn't seem nearly long enough for what he did."
"Where's your Christian attitude, Cecil?" Edmund's smile was benevolent. "What about forgiveness?"
"Spoken like a true deacon of the church, Edmund, but the man is a cold-blooded killer. He isn't fit to be here at this social, mixing with good, clean-living folks."
"Wel
l, if Jack does attend tonight, at least be civil to him." Edmund was playing his role perfectly, with quiet dignity.
"I'll try, but I'm not promising anything."
Glancing Abby's way one last time, Edmund saw that she was busy talking with Iona. He was glad they were close. The more Abby wanted to see his wife, the more chances he had to be around her. At least, he thought in disgust, Iona was finally good for something.
The ladies began serving the dinner at five o'clock. They had coldly but politely refused Iona's offer of help.
Abby remained with the older woman, knowing she would be on the receiving end of even more cruel barbs before the night was over. Abby was accustomed to being treated like an outsider, but Iona, as the banker's wife, had once been revered by the ladies in town, and her friendship had been cultivated. Abby saw the hurt and confusion in her eyes, and it wounded Abby deeply. Again Abby thought of Iona's daughter, Juliana, and wished that she had come home. Iona needed her help.
After they'd eaten, Brent went to talk with friends from town, while Edmund went off to work with the men, this time setting up for the coming dance.
Jack was left alone, so he sought out Leroy Jennings and some other men he'd considered friends in the past.
"Evening, Leroy-boys," Jack said as he joined them.
"I thought that was you sitting over there," Leroy responded, sounding less than enthusiastic.
"I got back to the ranch a while ago."
"We'll see you later, Leroy," the other men said abruptly, ignoring Jack. They started to walk away.
Jack had known it would be hard fitting in and being accepted again, but he'd never expected to be so completely ostracized.
"Where you boys going?" Jack challenged, anger growing within him.
They looked at him, their expressions condemning. "Away from here. We don't want to be around your kind."
"My kind? Why, you-" Jack took a step toward them, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
"Pa-back off."
Brent's order jarred Jack and he stopped.
The men all looked toward Brent, then glanced at each other and walked away. Even Leroy went with them this time, glad to avoid trouble.
