"Hi, Boss!" Jake said as Nick entered the saloon. "Coffee's ready."

"Thanks," Nick said, pouring himself a cup. Cara and the girls were all wiping busy wiping tables or talking to the few early customers who were already there, and several of them acknowledged his arrival. "Has Eban been around yet?"

"He and Rose went up to that house he's building - haven't got back yet."

Nick shook his head. "Are they ever going to get that place finished?"

"Maybe by Christmas," Cara told him, coming over to the bar. "Rose told me that Eban wants everything to be perfect, and he's waiting for the last few pieces of furniture."

"That man needs to go ahead and get married," he muttered.

"I think it's sweet that he's determined to get the house all done," Cara told him. "But then, that's Eban. Sweet."

"You'd get tired of sweet," Jake told her.

"I don't know," she mused. "Might be nice - for a change."

Nick chuckled, and picked up his cup. "I'm going to sit down over here to get out of the line of fire," he told them. "Maybe you two need to be the ones setting the date."

"Maybe so," Jake replied, and grinned when Cara's eyes widened and she turned to look at him. Nick smiled as he watched Jake reach over and cover Cara's hand on the bar.

Eban and Rose arrived a moment later, with Rose apologizing to Cara before she saw Nick. "I'm sorry I'm late. We were looking at the work being done and lost track of time - Hello, Boss," she said to Nick, taking her cape from Eban. "I'd better get to work," she told him.

Eban nodded, moving over to the table where Nick was. "Don't blame Rose," he started to say, but Nick waved away his apology.

"No problem. Why don't you sit down?"

"Sure. I guess you're here to look at the books -"

"Not right now. When are you going to marry that girl?" he asked.

"Uh, well, as soon as the house is finished."

"From what I hear, it *is* finished."

"The buildin' is, but some of the furniture and wallpaper -"

"Those things could be done after you're married, couldn't they?"

Eban shrugged. "I guess so. But I want things t'be perfect -"

"Perfection is elusive, my friend. You need to get married as soon as -" Nick stopped talking as Jess walked into the saloon - carrying Caleb. "Jess," he said, standing up and going over to her. "What are you -?"

"Can't a wife pay a visit to her husband at his place of business?" she asked with a smile as Cara and the other girls gathered around to see the baby. "Here Cara," she said, offering to let the co-manager hold him.

Cara looked terrified. "Uh, Miss Jess, I -"

"Oh, go on. He won't bite." Cara finally took him. "There you go," Jess said as she went to join Nick and Eban. "Hello, Eban."

"Miss Jess," he said.

"Any update on wedding plans?" she asked him, and Nick moved over to refill his cup.

"Do you want some coffee, Jess?" he asked, hoping to divert her question.

"No, I won't be here that long. Thank you anyway."

Nick thought he'd been successful - until Eban spoke again. "Still not sure of the date, Miss Jess," he told her. "We're waitin' now on the last of the furnishin's for the house. I was just tellin' the boss that I want everything t'be perfect before we're married."

"Oh, that's very important, Eban," Jess assured him, glancing up at Nick as she spoke. "Don't you agree, Nick?"

"It can be carried to extremes," he commented, taking a drink from his cup as Caleb began to fuss, and Cara looked terrified.

"I'm sorry. Did I do something wrong?" she asked.

Putting his cup down, Nick took the baby from her. "It wasn't anything you did," he told her. "He does that sometimes." Looking at his son, he smiled. "You just want mama, don't you?" he asked, but Caleb stopped fussing the moment he was in Nick's arms.

"Aww," several of the girls said.

Nick looked at Jess, ignoring her amusement at the reaction to his holding the baby. "How did the council meeting go?" he asked.

"It didn't take long to get everything set for the Fall Festival this year. They've decided to expand the celebration. Matt Carter is printing the handbills - a few of them are already up around town."

"I thought you were going to visit Elizabeth and Amanda after the meeting?"

"They're both busy, so I decided to come and see you before we went home."

"I'll walk you out to the buggy," he told her, telling Eban, "We'll go over those books when I get back in, Eban."

"I'll get 'em ready," Eban said, heading for the back door.

Jess told everyone goodbye and followed Nick outside and across the street to the buggy. "You're not playing fair," she told him.

"Playing fair?" he questioned. "Not sure what you're talking about." He helped her into the buggy, then handed Caleb to her, watching as she put him into the basket sitting in the footwell.

"Trying to convince Eban to get married before Christmas to win our little wager."

"Do we have a wager?" he asked as he played with Caleb's hand.

"You know we do. If Eban and Rose get married before Christmas, I have to serve you breakfast in bed for a week."

"I was just asking him when they were getting married. How is that cheating?"

"You were doing more than asking -. You only have two months until Christmas," she reminded him.

"That's long enough."

"We'll see." She covered the basket with a shawl to protect Caleb from the dust. "I'll see you at home."

"Would you mind if I stayed for awhile?"

"I figured you would, since you rode in on Spirit," she told him, leaning over to give him a kiss. "See you later. Tell Leroy I said hello."

"I will."

=======================

"Did you see the signs around town?" Cole asked over supper.

"What signs?" Kevin asked. "I haven't been to town since last Sunday -"

"They're having a Turkey-shoot," he explained.

"Cole's gonna try and win a turkey," Ben told them.

"That doesn't make much sense," Lily said.

"Why not?" Cole wanted to know. "They had one in Taos - I never got to enter it, though."

"We have a city-wide Fall Festival with contests and a community meal," Jess told him. "Everyone contributes to it. We usually cook several turkeys -" she turned to Lily. "It's really just for bragging rights. They have several turkeys that will go to the winners of the shoot. The family of whoever wins the turkeys will cook them and provide them for the meal after church on Sunday. You know, Lily, that we've sometimes had trouble with who's going to cook the turkeys. This way, there's no picking and choosing." She turned back to Cole. "There's a five dollar entrance fee that will go to the church - and only one shooter per family."

"What about an age limit?" Cole asked. "I mean, can someone who's say - fifteen - enter?"

The adults smiled at his question. "As long as you can shoot, you can enter," Jess assured him.

"Handgun or rifle?"

"Now that I'll have to look into. But that wouldn't bother you, would it? You're a good shot with either one."

"Yeah," he admitted, "but I prefer using the six-gun."

"What if one of us wants to enter?" Kevin asked, winking at Jess as he did so.

Cole looked as if that idea hadn't occurred to him. "I guess that would be okay," he said, but it was clear that he wouldn't be happy with that turn of events.

"I'm not a bad shot," Kevin told him. "And both of your folks are excellent shots."

"Yeah," Cole nodded, looking up when the adults started to laugh.

"Don't worry, Cole," Jess said. "You'd be my choice to enter - and I think Nick would agree as well."

==================

Nick, however, wasn't sure about the idea. "I don't know if it's a good idea, Jess."

"Why? Everyone in town knows he's a good shot after what happened a few weeks ago -"

"They've heard it talked about. That's different from *seeing* how good he is."

"He doesn't have to do a holster draw to shoot," she pointed out.

"You know he will. And once word gets out that he's good *and* fast -" he shook his head, clearly concerned. "I'll talk to him about it -"

"Well, I think he should do it. Nick, we can't protect him forever."

"We can try, darlin'," he told her, getting into bed. "It's beginning to look as if you're going to get breakfast in bed for a week."

"Really?"

"While we were going over the books, Eban told me that the last of the furniture isn't supposed to be here until after Christmas."

"Oh my. That does sound like I'm going to win our bet."

"This time," he said, turning onto his side to look at her, pulling her close.

==================

"I said I would think about it, Cole."

"But, Pa -"

"You're going to be late for school." Nick's voice made it clear that the discussion was finished, leaving Cole no option but to grab his hat and leave the house, joining Ben, who was waiting for him.

"Com'on, kid," he told his cousin.

Jess watched Nick as he stood at one of the windows in the parlor. "Go on, say it," he told her.

"I'm not sure what to say, honestly," she said, moving over to stand close to him. "Nick, what's going on? You've been fine with Cole wearing and using his gun since -"

"Since he saved our lives," Nick finished. "I know. He's good, Jess. I watched him practicing last week. I don't think I've seen anyone faster on the draw - but he's so *young*." Jess rested her head on his shoulder as he continued. "I keep thinking about what might happen - if he wins that Turkey-shoot, word will get out about how fast he is. First thing you know, there would be gun-hands showing up, wanting to see for themselves. I've seen it happen," he told her, "Either the young man ends up face down -" he stopped for a moment. "Face down in the street - or he starts to enjoy it. That's one step away from-"

"From what his father did," Jess said.

"I don't want that for him, Jess. Either one of those is - unthinkable."

"It won't be that way. He could have shot Thornton, could have killed him, but -"

"I stopped him by shooting first."

"I don't believe he would have done it. He gave Thornton every chance - and I believe that he would have done just what you did - shoot to wound, not to kill. He has a good head on his shoulders, Nick. We have to trust him. And we have to let him find his own path - his own way." She reached up and placed her hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at her as she said, "Just as you did."

Nick sighed deeply and pulled her into his arms. "How'd you get so smart?" he finally asked.

"I could say from knowing you," she said, smiling. "But - Pa used to tell me that I was born with an 'old soul'."

"Whatever the reason, I'm grateful for it. I'll go into town and talk to Cole after school, tell him that he can enter the Turkey-shoot."

"And then you'll stay in town and win some more money from Leroy," she told him.

"No, I think tonight, I'll stay at home - with my family."

=================

Cole took Ben's horse to the livery stable, and sent the boy on ahead to school, wanting to be alone for a few minutes. Neither of them had said much during the ride as Ben had heard part of the discussion between Cole and his Pa.

"Well?" Sam asked as he and the others joined Cole.

"You gonna enter?" Jaycee wanted to know.

"Pa's thinking about it," Cole responded. "He's worried."

"About what?" Corey wondered. "If you're as good a shot as you say you are -"

"I think that's the problem," Jaycee told him. "If he's *too* good -"

"I don't understand," Corey said. "Why would it be a problem to be good with a gun? My folks won't even let me *have* a gun."

"You have a rifle," Sam pointed out.

Corey shook his head. "It's not the same thing."

The school bell began to ring, and Cole said, "We'd better get inside."

===================

Jason Grant was just getting the front desk ready for the day when a man entered the hotel. "I'd like a room, please," he told Jason, setting his valise on the floor. He had on an expensive-looking suit, and wore a bowler hat.

"Of course, Mister -" Jason prompted as he turned the register so that the man could sign it.

"Graves. Ernest Graves," he said.

Jason looked at the register. "From New York?"

"That's right. Do you have a room with a bath, by any chance? Train travel isn't much better than by stagecoach."

"Room 10. Up the stairs, end of the hall. Cafe's just through those doors, and I'll have some water brought up for your bath."

"Thank you."

Jason watched him go upstairs, then went through to the cafe to tell Milly and Betsy about the new guest.

=================

Cole came out of the schoolhouse with his friends, laughing about something that Corey had said when he looked up and saw Nick leaning against the hitching post. Turning to his friends, he said, "Excuse me, guys," before continuing on to where Nick stood. "Pa. I'm surprised to see you here -"

"I thought we needed to talk," Nick told him. "Why don't we go down to Jess' office?"

"Uncle Nick!" Ben called, running to catch up to them. "Didn't expect to see you in town," he said, looking from one to the other, as if worried that they were going to start arguing again.

"I needed to talk to Cole about something," Nick explained. "Tell you what, why don't you go over to the Cafe and ask them to give you some cake and milk and we'll come get you when we're finished?" He pulled some coins from his pocket and gave them to the boy.

"Yes, sir!" Ben replied, running across the street and entering the cafe.

Nick unlocked the office door and entered, with Cole behind him. As the door closed, they both said, "I'm sorry," and then laughed.

"What are you sorry about?" Nick asked.

"I didn't realize why you were so worried, until Jaycee said something earlier."

"What did he say?"

"That my being good with a gun could cause problems - especially if I'm as good as I say I am."

"Which you are." Nick sighed. "I'm sorry, too. I can't help but worry, but I also have to remember that you're not going to go out and start taking on all comers with that gun. That said, you have to realize that they *will* come, once it gets out how good you are. And if you enter that contest, it'll get out. You have to be prepared for that."

"I think I am. You'll notice that I still don't wear my gun in town - just on the ranch."

"I've noticed." Nick thought for a moment before saying, "But if someone forced your hand -"

"Shoot to wound or at the gun," Cole said simply. "So, does this mean that I can enter the shoot?" he asked.

"I suppose so."

"Thank you. I won't do a fast draw," he said. "Maybe that will help."

"Couldn't hurt," Nick agreed. "Com'on. Let's get Ben before he eats too much cake and I have to deal with your Aunt Lily."

They left the office and were crossing the street when a voice called out. "Nick!"

Nick turned to see a vaguely familiar face coming out of the saloon toward him. The suit and hat marked the man as an Easterner. "Go and get Ben, Cole," Nick said, moving toward the man as recognition dawned. "Ernie?" he questioned. "It is you!"

"I'd heard you were out here in the middle of nowhere!" Ernie said as the two men greeted each other.

"And what are *you* doing out here?" Nick asked.

"I finally did it. Broke away from my Father, set out to make my own fortune."

"Doing what?"

"The only thing I know how to do, of course. Running a newspaper."

Cole returned with Ben, and stood there, listening before Nick saw them. "Boys, this is Ernest Graves - a friend of mine from back East. Ernie, I'd like to introduce you to my nephew, Ben Donager, and my son, Cole Everett." He laughed as Ernie's green eyes widened in shocked surprise.

"Your son?"

"Tell you what, why don't you come out to the ranch for supper tonight and meet the rest of the family?"

"I don't want to impose," Ernie said, but Nick shook his head.

"You're not. Rent a buggy and go straight down this road to the south. You can't miss the house. We eat around six." He shook Ernie's hand again. "Be there, or I'll come back and drag you out."

"I'll be there," Ernie told him, still smiling as the trio moved down the street. "A son," he muttered, shaking his head.

===============

"You've never mentioned the man," Jess told Nick once they returned home.

"He was one of my best friends when we were younger," Nick told her. "We both hated being rich men's sons. His father ran several newspapers, and insisted that Ernie would follow in his footsteps, but he didn't want Ernie to learn the ropes, just step into the offices."

"And Ernie didn't want that?"

"He wanted to start at the bottom and learn the entire process - and earn the respect of the employees at the same time."

"Who won?" Cole asked.

"Last I heard, his father. I haven't seen or talked to him since my visit to the City after Father died. And that was only a condolence call, not a real visit. I could tell that he wasn't happy, though."

Jess smiled. "You're really excited about seeing him, aren't you?"

"He's an old friend," Nick told her, and then fell silent as he sat down.

"Cole," Jess said, "why don't you go and get changed and start your homework?"

"Sure," he said, leaving the room.

"What's wrong?" Jess asked Nick as she sat down beside him.

"I'm second guessing myself, I suppose. That last time I trusted someone out of my past -"

"Did Ernie ever do anything that would make you think you don't have reason to trust him?"

"No. But it's been a long time since I've seen him - people change."

Jess sighed. "I know. But until he gives you reason to *not* trust him, what other choice do you have?" She stood up and gathered Caleb from the cradle. "I'm going to have to start putting him in the pen if he keeps growing like he has been," she said, then held out her hand to Nick. "Come on. Let's go get ready for supper. I want to make a good impression on Mr. Graves."

==================

"I drove my father crazy," Ernie told them at supper. "Every time his back was turned, I would sneak down to the news room or the printing room to learn how to do those things - Ended up working a little in every part of the process. I'd be really into it, then suddenly the room would get quiet and I'd look up and there Father would be, glaring at me, crooking his finger, summoning me. But I kept doing it."

"And now you're striking out on your own," Kevin noted.

"That's my intention," Ernie nodded. "I want to find a place where I can set up shop and start my own paper."

"Why not Providence?" Jess suggested.

"Do we need a newspaper?" Lily asked. "There's almost no crime, and I'm not sure that a newspaper could get information out faster than the town's grapevine does."

"No crime?" Ernie questioned, clearly surprised by the statement.

Nick spoke up. "My suggestion, Ernie, is that you spend some time here. Get to know Providence and the people who live in the area. Then you can make a decision."

"Sounds like a good idea," Ernie agreed.

"I can set you up with the Town Council to discuss the idea," Jess told him.

"Thank you, Mrs. Everett. That would be helpful."

"Jess is the town's legal advisor," Nick said.

"She is?" Ernie asked, surprised.

"I'm an attorney," Jess informed him with a smile at his reaction. "That's why Nick came to Providence - because of a case in town that I was prosecuting."

"Oh my. A woman -" He grinned, shaking his head. "I'll say one thing for Providence: it's full of surprises."

===================

Nick walked Ernie out to the buggy. "I guess I'll see you Thursday," he said. Jess had told them that Wednesday was the one day of the week that the council wouldn't be able to meet due to business concerns of the members, so it was agreed that they would meet on the next day.

"You're happy aren't you, Nick? I don't think I've ever seen you this happy."

"I am." Nick looked around, taking in the house and corral and the scenery. "I felt it the moment I arrived in Providence. Then I met Jess - and the next thing I knew, this was home. Took me a long time to find it." He hesitated before continuing. "Ernie, if you're here just to cause trouble, or to muck-rake -"

"Don't worry, Nick. I don't hold with that kind of so-called journalism." He shook his head. "I never pictured you as a settled family man - Knowing your penchant for playing poker -"

"Oh, I still do that."

"Really? In Providence?"

"The saloon that you were in earlier? Lily's Place?"

Ernie's eyes narrowed. "Your wife's sister in law is named -"

"Lily. She was the owner of the place until I bought a half interest -"

"We have a *lot* to catch up on, my friend."

"What about you?"

"There's time enough for that," Ernie told him, getting into the buggy. "See you later. And thank you for the excellent meal."

"I'll relay your thanks to Mariana," Nick told him, waving as he turned the buggy and set it down the road toward town.

"I like him," Jess said from the porch, and Nick turned to look at her.

"Good. He doesn't seem to have changed a lot - except maybe he's a little less exuberant. He enjoyed going to parties. I can't quite seem him doing that now."

"He's older," she pointed out, coming down the steps to slip her arm around him.

"And therefore so am I," he said, looking down at her as he put an arm across her shoulders. "Is that the implication?"

"You said it, I didn't."

Nick bent his head to whisper in her ear. "I'll show you how *old* I am later, darlin'."

She laughed, turning into his arms. "I'll hold you to that - darlin'," was her reply as the door opened again and Cole joined them.

Seeing them standing so close, he paused. "Uh, sorry. I'll go back -"

Nick chuckled, shaking his head. "No reason to, son. So, what did you think of my old friend?"

"He seems nice. And smart."

"Oh, he is that. He was at the top of our class in school. Now *he* was the teacher's pet, and loved it."

"Did he have a crush on the teacher?" Jess wanted to know.

"I don't have a crush on Mrs. Drummond, Ma," Cole insisted.

"Ben told me that you picked some wild flowers for her at the end of the six weeks," she pointed out.

"I'm gonna have to find a way to keep that boy from talking so much," Cole muttered. "I was talking about Mr. Graves, Pa."

"So was I," Jess insisted.

Nick laughed. "I don't think he had a crush on Mr. Dumblefeld. The man was almost fifty years old."

"Your teacher was a man?" Cole questioned, shaking his head.

"Oh, yes. Most of the boys in his school didn't like him very much. He was very strict - but he was a good teacher."

"I'd better go inside and take Caleb off of Lily's hands so she can get her two into bed." She started up the steps. "And ask her if she can watch him while I'm in town later this week."

"You'd better take him with you," Nick told her. "Your sisters will want to see him - Amanda might even watch him for you - if you ask nicely."

"I knew there was a reason I kept you around," she said with a grin and a wink at Cole. "Don't stay out too late - you have school tomorrow."

"Yes, Ma," he answered as she continued into the house. Watching Nick's face as he watched her, Cole shook his head. "You know, I hope I find someone that I can love as much as you love her."

"I pray you do. You know, I knew the moment I saw her that she was the only woman for me."

"Really?" Cole asked, sitting down on the top step.

Nick joined him. "Oh, yes. Now, convincing *her* of that took a little time, but it was worth it."

"I've been reading her Pa's journals - he thought a lot of her."

"She thought a lot of him, too."

"Guess that's why she spent so much time learning about the ranch."

"I think that's how she saw her future before he sent her back East to school."

"I can understand that. This place is -" Cole looked out over the landscape as he spoke, "- there's something about it that I can't really put into words. I could see myself here for the rest of my days."

"What about going to university after you finish school here?"

Cole shook his head. "No, I don't think so."

"You won't even consider it?"

"Why should I? Everything I need to know I can learn from Uncle Kevin or one of the other hands - or even Ma," he said, smiling.

"So you want to be a ranch hand and that's it?"

"Well, part of it will belong to me some day, won't it?"

"Yes."

"If Ben decides he wants to do something else, that would leave me to run the place eventually. It's what *I* want to do, Pa. I hope that doesn't bother you -"

"No, it doesn't bother me. I wish my father had been willing to accept what I wanted instead of trying to force me into what he wanted. Now, I think it's time for you to go get ready for bed - if you've finished your homework -"

"I got it done before supper," Cole confirmed as they both stood up.

"Good."

"I somehow doubt that Mrs. Drummond gives us as much homework as Mr. Dumb-"

"Dumblefeld," Nick supplied.

"Dumblefeld did." He shook his head. "What a name."

"He believed in homework out of every book every night," Nick told him as he opened the front door.

===================

On Thursday morning, while Jess contacted the Town Council about a meeting - and left Caleb with his Aunt Amanda - Nick offered to show Ernie around town. "Where do you recommend that we begin the tour?" Ernie asked.

Nick pointed to the statue. "How about the Founders' Monument?" he suggested.

"I saw that the other day, and was about to go check it out when I saw you. I walked past it yesterday, but didn't stop. The Founders' Monument?"

"How much do you know about the history of this area?"

"Not very much - why?"

Nick began giving his old friend a quick lesson about how the Diamond D Ranch and the town of Providence began. "This was given to the town a little over a year ago when Jess and I were married - a gift from the Donager family to those 20 founding families who chose to stay and build a legacy."

Ernie studied the plaque and statue. "Who made this?"

"Paulo Delvecchio," Nick informed him.

"I'm impressed. So your wife's family started the town -"

"No. Her father started the ranch - this town was built by those families named there. Most of them are still here. You'll meet some of them when you talk to the Council." He began to point out the various buildings. "The church over here was the first permanent building in town."

"Where did people live?"

"They lived and worked out of their wagons or tents - I think Jess told me that the next big building was the hotel, then the mercantile and the doctor's office..."

As Nick finished talking, Ernie asked, "What about the bank and the saloon?"

"The bank didn't open until right after the war. John Donager decided that if the town was going to grow - he had already begun inquiries about getting a rail spur into town - it would need a bank."

"And the saloon?"

"It was built about ten years after the town began. Carl Collins' brother, Gerald, started the business. When he died after the war, Carl had no interest in running it, and sold it to Lily."

"She's not from here, right?"

"No. She came out from St. Louis. It's not your typical saloon," he told Ernie.

"How so? Looked pretty much like every other saloon -"

"Looks can be deceiving, my friend. The hostesses serve drinks, nothing else. They keep an eye on how much the customer is drinking, so no one gets drunk. If there's a fight because of too much to drink - which hasn't happened very often - the fighters spend the night in jail, and pay a fine and damages. The girls aren't allowed to take men upstairs to their rooms -"

"Really?"

"And the saloon - in fact, all of the businesses in town - are closed on Sunday."

"Why?"

Nick pointed to the church again. "Because most of the town is in there for church services." Chuckling at Ernie's surprise, Nick nodded. "You have to remember that one of the first things those twenty families did was to hold a church service to thank God for His Providence in bringing them here. It made sense then, and it still makes sense. It's one of things that drew me to stay. It's not like anyplace else, Ernie."

"But - what if someone doesn't want to go to church?"

"They're not required to go. And the Cafe has a free dinner on Sunday for those who don't have a place to go, or they're invited to dine with friends."

"This is a lot to take in -"

"Too much?" Nick asked.

"No - Jess is over there -" he said.

"That's our Community Center," Nick explained. "It's our court house/town hall/and we use it for church dinners and wedding celebrations." He pointed out the schoolhouse and parsonage, and the town's doctor's offices/hospital.

"A hospital?" Ernie exclaimed, shaking his head. "I don't think I've seen one in a town this small -"

"You haven't been in many towns this small," Nick reminded him, and Ernie shrugged. "But you're right. We believe in the future of Providence, and want to be ready for it when it comes."

"Sounds to me like all you need now - is a newspaper."

"Why don't we go over and see what Jess has to say about introducing you to the Town Council?"

====================

Jess had invited Doc, Bro. Andrew and Sheriff Decker to the meeting with the Council. After being introduced to Greg March, Carl Collins, Niles Bradford, Leon Carter and Paul Grover, Ernie found himself answering their questions.

"Jess tells us that you're thinking about starting a newspaper here, Mr. Graves," Carl said.

"Yes, sir."

"Do you have experience running such an enterprise?"

"Well, my father owns several newspapers in New England. He's the managing editor of the New York Guardian. I've spent my entire life in and around the offices of that paper. I've learned how to set type and to print, how to get and write a story, how to sell and write ads, and how to sell the finished product."

"So why are you out here instead of there helping him?"

"Well, Mr. - Carter," Ernie said, "I decided that it was time for me to make my own way. My father is showing no signs of being ready or willing for me to take his place. So I told him that I was going to follow Mr. Greeley's advice to 'go west' and make my own fortune."

True to his ownership of the local bank, Greg March asked, "Do you have a source of funding?"

"Well, -"

"Whatever funding he needs, I'll provide," Nick told them.

Ernie grinned. "Thank you, Nick, but - while my father wasn't overly enthusiastic about my decision, he has guaranteed me whatever funds I need to get the paper started - including a printing press. In fact, I have a certified bank draft in my wallet right now."

Nick smiled at Jess upon hearing those words as Andrew spoke up. "I know that I'm not on the council, gentlemen - but may I ask a question?"

"Of course, Bro. Andrew," Carl assured the pastor.

"We're a very tight-knit community here, Mr. Graves. How do you see a newspaper contributing to that?"

"I see a newspaper as being a part of the community - to help build it up. That doesn't mean that if I see a problem that I won't jump on it. I believe that a journalist has a responsibility to cover the good *and* the bad in the community it serves. What I see in the paper for Providence is news of the local church, wedding and birth announcements, news from the town council, perhaps a regular feature about the rich history of the area - and some mention of national news that might be of interest, cattle prices. All of that would be paid for by ads taken out by local merchants, and sold for, say, a nickel a week."

"You've apparently given this quite a bit of thought, Mr. Graves," Paul Grover said.

"I have indeed, Mr. Grover," he confirmed. "I hope that you will agree to grant me the opportunity to be a part of Providence and help it grow as you expect it to."

Jess leaned close to Nick. "He's good."

"You have no idea," Nick replied, recalling having said something very similar to Ernie earlier.

"Any further questions?" Carl asked the others, who shook their heads - except for Niles Bradford.

"I have a question. I've had the opportunity to read a few of the articles published by your father, young man." He paused for a moment, as if looking for the right words. "I'm not sure how else to say this but - he tends to look for the bad over the good from what I've seen. I believe the term is 'muck-raking'."

"I understand your concern, Mr. Bradford," Ernie told him. "And I want to assure you - all of you - that I don't agree with that particular brand of journalism. In fact, it was one of the reasons that I wanted to start my own concern, to show him that one doesn't have to throw dirt on people in order to sell newspapers."

"Thank you, Mr. Graves," Carl said. "We'll discuss it and get back to you by the end of the day."

"Thank you, gentlemen," Ernie said, shaking the hand of each man before leaving with Nick. "Where's Jess?" he asked.

"She'll stay while they discuss it."

"What happens if they refuse to approve my request?"

"You can still open the paper, but you won't get much co-operation from the other businesses in town."

"I can see that. What do you think?"

"I think that you said all the right things, old friend," Nick told him as the school let out for lunch and children piled out of the building to the playground beside it.

"Who is that?" Ernie asked as he stared across the street.

Nick turned to look, smiling. "Our teacher. Iris Drummond. Would you like an introduction?"

"I'm sure she's busy -"

"It's lunchtime. She usually goes down to the cafe to eat -" Nick crossed the street, pulling Ernie with him. "Hello, Mrs. Drummond."

"Mr. Everett." She looked behind her. "I believe that Cole is -"

"I'm not looking for Cole," he told her. "Mrs. Iris Drummond, may I introduce you to Mr. Ernest Graves?"

"Mrs. Drummond?" Ernie questioned, looking a bit disappointed as he removed his hat.

"I'm a widow," she explained. "My husband died at Gettysburg."

"I'm sorry."

"Thank you."

"Oh, Mr. Everett, I did want to speak to you - you gave Cole your permission to enter the turkey-shoot?"

"I did. He's the best shot of all the Donager family, so - is there a problem?"

"No, of course not. I just wanted to be sure. Well, I have to go have my lunch so I'll be back before the children finish theirs. It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Graves."

"The pleasure was entirely mine, Mrs. Drummond," Ernie said, watching her as she walked away.

"Hey, old friend," Nick said, gently shaking his shoulder.

"Sorry."

"Don't look now, but Jess is on her way over here."

That brought Ernie around, and he turned to look at Jess as she joined him. "Well?" he asked, clearly concerned by her lack of expression.

"You need to decide on where you're going to set up shop - and a name for the newspaper," she told him.

"They said yes?"

"They said yes," Jess confirmed with a wide smile.

"Ya-hoo!" he said, drawing the attention of several of the children and citizens in the area. "She's right, Nick. Where am I going to -"

"I have the perfect place -" Nick said, telling Jess, "I bought the old stage depot/freight warehouse, remember? The old depot should be just about right for a printing press -"

"Oh, and I need to send a telegram to get the press started this way -"

"Well, you two can go do that and then we can have lunch," Jess told him. "I'll stop in and get Caleb from Amanda, then meet you at the Cafe."

====================

"Well?" Jess asked when she joined them, Caleb now in her arms, "Did you show him the old depot?"

Ernie answered. "He did, and it will work. It will take a least a week for the press to get here, but I can start writing stories and getting ads collected -" His attention was caught by something across the room, and Jess turned around to see what it might be. Iris Drummond was leaving the Cafe, heading back to the school.

"I introduced him to Mrs. Drummond after the meeting," Nick explained.

"Ah," Jess said, nodding as Ernie saw her and smiled.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I'm also going to need somewhere to live -"

"There are rooms over the office," Nick said.

"They were used for the drivers to rest if they had to stay overnight," Jess explained.

"And I can recommend the hotel on the long term. I had a room there until a month before Jess and I were married."

"I tend to write in the middle of the night when I'm working on something," Ernie explained. "So I think the rooms over the office will suit me just fine."

======================

As they stood in the soon to be newspaper office, Jess asked, "Have you decided on a name yet?"

"Been thinking about it," Ernie told her. "How about The Providence Herald?"

Jess looked at Nick as Caleb babbled, and they all laughed. "Well, I think that's a vote in favor," Jess decided. "The Providence Herald it is."

"Is there anything left upstairs in the way of furnishings?" Ernie wondered.

"Why don't we go and find out?" was Nick's suggestion. "I meant what I said, Ernie," he began as they climbed the stairs. "If you need any funding -"

"Thank you, but I have that bank draft -" He paused as he entered the rooms.

Nick tossed aside the dust covers over the settee and table sitting near the small wood stove while Ernie continued into the other room. Jess followed to the doorway, seeing the double bed and chest of drawers along with a washbasin and pitcher sitting on another table. "All the comforts of home," she said.

"Unless you're used to living in a mansion in the middle of New York," Ernie told her with a grin. "Seriously, this will do nicely. I can see myself sitting at the table here, writing in the middle of the night."

"Did you really mean what you said earlier? About including local history in the paper?"

He smiled at Jess' question. "I did. From what I've heard from Nick, it's a very rich history. I'd like to start with your father's story, and then move to the twenty families who agreed to stay."

"Pa - my father left some journals of the journey they made out here from New York," she told him. "You're welcome to use them if it will be any help."

"Thank you. Well, who do I talk to about getting some assistance in getting this place ready for me to move into? Dusting and sweeping and such?"

"Ma would probably know the answer to that," Nick said to Jess, who nodded.

"You're right. Or she might volunteer to do it herself."

"Ma?" Ernie asked with a frown.

"He hasn't met Ma yet?" Jess questioned Nick.

"Haven't had time. She's probably got some coffee ready - why don't we go introduce him?"

"Good idea. I know she would love to see Caleb, since we're in town."

"Who is Ma?" Ernie wanted to know, following them back downstairs.

"Oh, my friend," Nick said, holding out Ernie's bowler hat, "you are in for a treat."

"Will you please answer my question, Jess?"

"Ma Hawkins. You met her husband at the council meeting. Doc Hawkins?"

"Okay. That still doesn't tell me -"

Nick finally took pity on the man and gave him a very quick explanation of how Ma had come to Providence. "And none of that is going to prepare you for actually meeting her," he finished as they took the steps up to the front porch of the house.

"You said this was the hospital," Ernie told him.

"Ma and Doc live here," Jess explained. "And so do his nephew Dr. Thad Mitchell and my sister, Elizabeth, who is married to him."

As she finished speaking, Jess opened the door and lead the way into the building. "Who's there?" Ma called out as she came from the back of the house, pausing when she saw Jess and Nick. But her attention was focused on the baby, which she took from Jess before saying another word. "Hello there, little Caleb. 'Bout time your ma and pa brought ya to see me." She turned to smiled at Ernie. "And who might this be?"

Ma Hawkins, this is Ernest Graves. He's going to be starting a newspaper here in Providence."

"Doc told me 'bout it when he got home. Welcome t'Providence, young man."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hawkins."

"Call me Ma. Ev'ryone does."

"Is Elizabeth here?" Jess wanted to know.

"Nope. She an' Thad are out on rounds. Got some coffee in the kitchen," she said, leading the way. "Look who's come t'see us," Ma told Doc as they entered the room. Sitting down, she told Jess, "You know where th'cups are. Don't stand on ceremony, girl."

"Hello, Nick," Doc said, having risen upon Jess' entrance before he sank back into his chair. "Mr. Graves."

"Please, sir, Call me Ernie."

"And I'm Doc to everyone around here."

"You were one of the twenty who -" Ernie said.

"I was. In fact, it was myself and the Reverend Matthew Lee who made the decision to stay before the rest did. My first wife and I were on our way to California to start a practice there. But after having delivered John and Maggie Donager's first child only a few days earlier, I decided that I needed to stay and make sure he grew up healthy." He studied Ernie over his cup as Jess finally sat down. "Are you serious about featuring local history in the newspaper?"

"I believe so. I'm sure that most people know about it -"

"You'd be surprised at how many don't know everything about how the town was settled," Jess interrupted. "They know their own family's story, perhaps, but not the whole story."

"They will once I'm finished - of course, since it will be a weekly paper, it will take awhile."

"Where are you going to set up shop?" Doc wanted to know.

"The old stage depot," Nick told him.

"I was going to offer him my old office," Doc said. "But they're very similar - two rooms downstairs, two upstairs. There's room for expansion with both locations as well, if it becomes necessary."

"Until I get the presses running and start selling papers, I won't need much room. Thank you for the offer, however."

"The reason we came over was to see if you could recommend someone to clean the living area of the offices for Ernie, Ma," Nick told her.

"Lemme think." She took a sip of her coffee as she did so. "I could do it, I s'pose -"

"Martha," Doc sighed.

"Hesh up. This young man needs help, and I got nuthin' else t'do."

"I'd pay you for -" Ernie began, but Ma shook her head.

"Don't need y'money. Got plenty of m'own. When are y'wantin' it done?"

"There's no hurry. I don't expect the press to be here for awhile -"

"I can go over there t'morrow mornin' and get it done. Won't take no time atall."

"I almost hate to ask - I will need to find a helper, someone to serve as a printer's apprentice. I saw some handbills around town - who does the local printjobs?"

"That would be Matt Carter," Doc said. "His folks own the Mercantile. They bought a small, second hand printing press a few years ago, and he does all the print work."

"I'll speak to him - unless - his parents - will they mind -?"

"I doubt it," Doc said. "His father's complained more than once about Matt not paying attention to the store, but doesn't want to push him out of the nest."

"Good." Ernie grinned. "Seems like everything's falling nicely into place."

======================

"Ma! Pa!" Cole called out as he came out of the school and saw them leaving the hospital. He ran across the street. "Hello, Mr. Graves," he said, not realizing that his Pa's friend was watching the school, as though waiting for someone to appear.

"Is school out already?" Jess asked, and Nick pulled out his pocketwatch to show it to her.

"It is."

"I didn't think you would still be in town," Cole said. "Hi, Caleb," he said, reaching out to take his little brother's hand.

"We had a lot to get done so that Mr. Graves can open his newpaper," Nick told him.

"So you're going to do it?" Cole asked Ernie, who glanced at Cole then away again before answering.

"Oh, yes. As soon as the printing press gets here."

"Wow!" He glanced around. "I'm going to go get Ben and we'll start home," Cole told his parents.

But as they watched, Cole spoke to a blonde haired young woman, taking a piece of paper from her before turning to look for his cousin. The girl turned to some of her friends who were standing nearby.

"Who was that?" Nick asked Jess.

"Clara Hall."

"Hall," Nick repeated, thinking. "Artie Hall? The gunsmith?"

"He's her father. Her mother is Robert's cousin. I think that Clara is a year younger than Cole. Mr. Hall is related to Cole's friend, Sam."

Ernie finally spoke as the steady stream of children had slowed to a trickle. "Thank you for everything you've done to help today. Not sure how I'll ever thank you. If you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to see if Mrs. Drummond would accept an escort home."

"It was our pleasure, Ernie," Nick assured him, shaking his hand. "Don't hesitate to ask if you need anything else."

"I'll stop into the bank first thing tomorrow and get that bank draft taken care of, so I should be okay."

"And good luck with Mrs. Drummond."

"Oh dear," Jess said as they watched him cross the street and go up the steps, pausing at the doorway to rub the toes of his shoes on the back of his trouser-clad legs. "He does seem to be smitten."

"That's something else that's not like the Ernie I knew," Nick said as they stepped onto the boardwalk. "When I knew him, he was attracted to - let's just say more - flamboyant women. Iris Drummond doesn't fit that pattern in the least."

"I'd say that's a point in his favor," Jess suggested. "You were the same way," she pointed out.

"Me?" he questioned, pretending to be hurt. "You wound me, madam. How dare you make such an accusation - and in front of the baby at that."

"He doesn't understand," she reminded him. "And from what Lily's told me -"

"You can't believe *anything* she says about me."

"Not even the good things?"

"Well, now, *those* you can believe."

"I see. To tell you the truth, she told me that it was always the - flamboyant women who were chasing you, not the other way around."

"Now, *that* is the truth," he told her, pulling her into the saloon. "I need to talk to Jake for a minute."

"Hi, Boss. Miss Jess."

Jess moved over to stand at the end of the bar with Caleb as Nick spoke to Jake. "Listen, you remember a customer from yesterday - wearing a bowler hat?"

Jake grinned. "Yeah. I remember him. Why?"

"Did he ask for me at all?"

"Well, he did, but after the last time, I wasn't sure about telling him where to find you. I heard later that he's an old friend?"

"He is. And whatever he asks for if he comes in is on the house, okay?"

"Sure thing."

"Keep an eye on him."

"Is he a poker player?"

"He wasn't when I knew him, but it's been a few years, so who knows? Just keep him out of trouble if you can."

"Anything you say. They say that he's a newspaper man?"

"He is. So be careful what you tell him."

"Don't worry," Jake replied with a grin. "You gonna be here on Friday night?"

"Probably. And Saturday. We'll be closed the next Saturday for the Fall Festival."

"I'm hearing that some good-sized bets are going down on the turkey-shoot," Jake told him. "And Cole's the favorite."

Jess heard the comment and joined them. "Who's making these bets?" she wanted to know.

"George Lansing is one of them," Jake told them, and Jess frowned, although she wasn't surprised by the news.

"What about the others?" Nick wanted to know.

"There are some men who just came into town - Well, one's been here for a few days - You probably remember him, Boss. He sat in on the games on Saturday and Monday night."

Nick thought for a second. "Said he was looking for a job on one of the local ranches or farms, but would probably move on in a day or so," Nick recalled. "Name was - Belton. That was it. Belton."

"Yeah. When he's not playing poker, he's sitting over there flirting with Cara. Doesn't understand why she won't sit with him."

"Cara doesn't sit with customers," Nick nodded. "What about the others?"

"Never saw them before last night. Man a little older than you, and a younger one. Pretty sure they know Belton, though."

"How do you know that?"

"I saw Belton coming out of their hotel room this morning. Didn't get their names, but the older one is the one who's taking the bets on the shoot."

"How would they have heard about Cole?" Nick asked.

"It's the locals who are betting on him," Jake told them. "The man taking the bets is betting on the third man - little more than a kid, really - apparently he's a good shot, and plans to enter the turkey-shoot."

"If you hear anymore about it, shut it down, please."

"I will, Miss Jess," Jake told her. "But I can't control what people do outside of here."

"Do what you can, Jake," Nick told him. "See you tomorrow night," he said, taking Jess' arm as they returned to the board walk in time to see Cole and Ben riding down the street toward home. "I was afraid of this," he told her.

"The council knew it could happen," she said. "They're willing to turn a blind eye to any small bets, but if it gets out of hand, there won't be another turkey-shoot next year."

"Then we need to find a way to stop it. I think I'm going to spend a little more time in town the next few days - maybe get a line on who's behind this."

"How can I help?"

"You've lived here all your life - who else do you think will enter?"

=================

Ernie stood patiently in the schoolhouse doorway, hat in hand, watching as Mrs. Drummond sat at the desk while a young girl with pig-tails and wire-rimmed spectacles finished wiping off the blackboard. "Is there anything else I can do for you before I go home, Mrs. Drummond?" the girl asked eagerly.

"No, I think that's about it, Harriet. Thank you for -" she broke of as she caught sight of Ernie.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," he said.

"No, we were almost finished. Here, Harriet, don't forget these spelling tests to grade. If you can finish them by tomorrow morning -"

"I will," Harriet said, taking the papers and picking up her own books before nodding at Ernie. "Excuse me."

He moved out of the doorway, still watching the woman standing behind the desk. "May I help you, Mr. Graves?" she asked, and Ernie smiled a little as he realized that she hadn't forgotten his name, at least.

"I was wondering if - if you would allow me to escort you home?" He could see that she was uncertain. "I know that we've only just met, but I'm going to be in Providence for quite some time -"

"Oh?"

"I'm starting a newspaper," he explained.

"A newspaper?" Her smile transformed her face. "How wonderful! For the children, I mean. I've been wishing for something like here. When I was teaching in Boston, I used the local newspaper to help them with reading and studying current events. It will be so nice to be able to do that here."

"May I walk you home and we can discuss it further?"

"I suppose so." She gathered some papers into a satchel before removing her cloak from one of the hooks along the wall.

Ernie stepped forward to take it from her and place it over her shoulders. "Allow me," he said.

"Thank you."

By the time they neared the small house just down the road from the school, Ernie had explained his plans for the Providence Herald, as well as his own background. "So," she said, "your father owns the New York Guardian."

"Yes. Along with an interest in several other papers in the area. Have you ever read the Guardian?" he asked her, finally seeing the frown on her face.

"Unfortunately," she confirmed. "I'm sorry - but if I'm honest, I have to tell you that I'm not impressed with the kind of stories that are published in the Guardian. The mud-slinging and muck-raking are -"

Ernie held up his hand. "Please. I agree with you. That was one reason why I decided to leave New York and set out on my own. The last straw was a story about a prominent politician that my father disagreed with and chose to print a story that implicated him in a relationship with a young woman. It came to light - after the young woman took her life - that she was the man's daughter, not his mistress."

"Oh my. That poor woman." She placed a hand on his arm. "You knew her, didn't you?"

"We were - friends," he admitted.

"No wonder you decided to break away from your father. I don't blame you." She stopped and pointed to the house beyond the gate in front of them. "Well, thank you for walking me home, Mr. Graves. I quite enjoyed it."

"So did I. Perhaps - after I get settled, we might have supper one evening?" He waved toward the house, "Oh, I don't mean here, of course. I understand that as the teacher, you have to be careful of your reputation. No, I meant at the Cafe."

"I'll think about it. Thank you again."

"My pleasure," he assured her, bowing slightly before holding the gate open for her to enter the yard. He watched her into the house, then put his hat back on his head, his hands in his pockets and began to whistle as he moved down the street back toward town.

=================

"Pa, why does it matter if people are placing bets? That's no reason for me not to enter the turkey-shoot!" Cole insisted.

Nick drew a deep breath, looking at Jess for help. "Cole, dear," she said, "a few small bets aren't a problem. But these things can get out of hand. From what we've heard -"

Cole shook his head. "This is rich." He pointed to Nick and told Jess, "He's a hypocrite! You're both hypocrites!"

"Cole!" Nick said without raising his voice.

"You're a gambler, Pa! You own that saloon where people go to play poker and bet money on it! And you - you gamble everytime you go to work! But you're making all this fuss about someone putting down bets on who's going to win a shooting contest! I don't care what either of you say, I'm going to enter that contest. And I'm going to win!" he declared, leaving them both standing beside the corral as he ran toward the barn.

Jess went over to Nick, putting her hand on his arm. "Nick -"

"He's right. You can't argue that. I made my living by gambling for awhile. I do it now for fun, but - he's right."

"You need to talk to him. Try to make him understand -"

As Nick turned toward the barn, they saw Cole riding out on Ranger. Nick continued toward the barn, Jess at his side. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm going to follow him, and try to talk to him, then go into town for a while. See what I can find out about the men that Jake mentioned." Jess led Spirit from his stall as Nick prepared to saddle the horse. Once that was done, he gave her a kiss, then got into the saddle. "I'll try not to be too late."

"Good luck," she said. "Be careful."

====================

Before he reached the spot were Ranger was tied to a bush, Nick heard gunfire. He knew that Cole had been going out to practice when his parents had gotten home, so that wasn't a surprise. Watching the boy draw was still something that sent chills down Nick's spine. It was so fast that there was just an impression of Cole's hand moving, almost simultaneously with the gun being fired.

Cole emptied the gun, then started reloading the cylinder. "I'm sorry," he said, turning to look at Nick. "I shouldn't have said what I did."

"Don't apologize for being right, son," Nick told him. "I am a gambler. That's something I have to make my peace with. But - I wish you could understand the difference in what I do and what's going on with the bets on that contest. It's a fine line, but it is different. Especially if someone bets more than they can afford to bet. We have a limit on how much can be bet in a game at the saloon, and we don't accept markers - do you know what that is?"

"A player can't bet more money than he has in his pocket or wallet," Cole said. "Angie taught me to play, remember?"

"That's right. Well, in the betting that's going on in town, there isn't a limit. It's whatever a person thinks they can win. They sometimes bet more money than they should."

"Like someone betting the money that he would use to feed his family," Cole said. "And then losing it?"

"Exactly. Then, how will the family eat? It's not a huge problem in Providence, but it's still not a good idea."

"I still say that it shouldn't keep me from entering."

"And you're right. You're going to enter - and win."

Cole grinned, turning to point the gun. "Those four pods on that bush -"

Nick squinted. "That's a long way out -" he began, but Cole fired four times, and hit all four pods. "Never mind," he said as Cole removed the empty shells. Clapping a hand on the boy's shoulder, he said, "Don't stay out much longer - you've got homework, I'm sure. Your Ma's worried. And I think that you do owe *her* an apology."

Cole nodded. "Just another few minutes. Where are you going?"

"Into town. I'm going to try and get to the bottom of whatever's going on."

"Be careful, Pa."

"Always, son," Nick said as he got back onto his horse.

===================

Jess had just finished changing Caleb's diaper when she looked up and saw Cole standing in the open doorway. "I didn't hear you ride back in," she told him.

"I walked Ranger into the yard and went right to the barn," he told her. "I'm sorry, Ma. I shouldn't have said what I did about you -"

"Or about your Pa," she said. "I'll admit that he makes money playing poker - but would you like to know what he does with that money?"

"Spends it, I guess?"

"No. He gives every penny to the church," she told him, watching his reaction.

"Really? He didn't tell me that - in fact, he said I was right -"

"In a way, you are. He doesn't like people to know that he does it. Your Pa still wants people to see him as a hard-hearted, poker-playing saloon owner," she said. "He's not the first one. He has a heart as big as - as all outdoors. And I think he'd give up playing poker, but people expect it, and he doesn't want to disappoint them. It also gives him a way of keeping an eye on what's going on without being obvious about it."

"You're worried about him going into town and looking into those bets, aren't you?"

"A little. I shouldn't be. I know that he can -" she paused and smiled before continuing, "take care of himself, but I'm not there backing him up."

"I could keep an eye on Caleb if you want to -"

"Thank you, but no. I'll do my part tomorrow when I talk to some of the families to see if they know about what's going on - and if they've been approached about placing a bet."

"I'm pretty sure that Jaycee's going to enter -"

"He's their best shot?" she questioned.

Cole shrugged. "I don't know. But he mentioned it today during lunch."

She picked Caleb up. "Would you mind grabbing that blanket from his cradle, please?"

Cole retrieved the blanket for her. "Here."

"Thank you. What was that that Clara Hall gave you this afternoon?" she asked as they left the bedroom together.

"What?"

"We saw you take something from Clara after school. It looked like a piece of paper -"

"Oh. That. Well, she just wrote me a note telling me that she wishes me well in the contest," he told her.

"A note? Why didn't she just tell you?"

"Ma, her friends are always hanging around - or mine are."

"And neither of you wanted to be embarrassed," Jess said. "She's very pretty."

"She's a kid," Cole said. "Just turned fourteen." She didn't comment on the fact that he knew her exact age.

"And you'll be sixteen right after Christmas. That's not very much difference. When you're twenty, she'll be eighteen." Seeing his ears turning red confirmed her suspicion. "And here I was, worried about you being infatuated with Mrs. Drummond when I should have been looking elsewhere."

"Ma," he sighed, pausing at his room. "She's just a girl I know," he insisted.

Jess laughed, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Get washed up for supper. I'll see you in a few minutes."

===================

Nick's first stop after leaving his horse at the livery was the Sheriff's office. Lucas was seated his his desk, writing, and looked up when he opened the door. "You busy?"

"Nothing that can't wait. Just another report. If anyone had told me that this job was going to be fifty percent paperwork, I'd have moved on to the next town. What's the problem?" he asked as Nick sat down.

"Why do you think I have a problem? Can't I just drop in -"

"Everytime you darken that doorway, Nick Everett, it's because you need information, or have a problem. Now - what's going on?"

"You know that Cole's planning on entering that turkey-shoot next week."

"Jess said that he would when the Council decided to hold it. You're here about the bets that have been going down, aren't you?"

"Then you know about them?"

"I've heard whispers, bit and pieces. Mostly when I go in somewhere. The whispers fade away when they realize it's me. I talked to Jake - he wasn't much help, except for the name Belton."

Nick nodded. "He played poker with us the other night - I didn't really pay much attention to him, since I figured he'd be gone on the morning train."

"Lou Smith said that Belton sent a telegram about the shoot-out right after the hand bills went up, and two more men arrived on the train yesterday morning. A middle aged, smooth-talker, and a younger man wearing his gun on his hip."

"Any idea who they are?"

"They're stayin' over at the hotel," Lucas told him. "Names in the register are Herman and Tex Daniels." They had both moved over to the windows that overlooked the hotel entrance. "Are the names familiar?"

"No. I've never met Belton, either. Do you have anything on them?"

"I sent a few telegrams out, but haven't gotten any replies yet. They were just coming into the cafe when I left a few minutes ago."

"Well, I haven't had my supper yet, guess I'll go over and see what's on the menu."

"Same thing as always on Wednesday," Lucas told him. "Chicken and dumplings or a steak, mashed potatoes and green beans."

Nick put his hat back on. "If you hear from Lou -"

"I'll let you know. Be careful. That boy looks like he knows how to handle that gun he's wearing."

==================

Nick entered the Cafe and sat down at a corner table. Grace came over, smiling. "Mr. Everett. Didn't expect t'see you here t'night."

"I decided to come in for a few hours. I'll have the steak. You know how I like it." She grinned again.

"Coffee?"

"Please."

He had seen the three men upon entering. Belton was seated alone at a small table. The other two men were seated at the window. The older gentleman was heavyset and well-dressed, with a neatly trimmed mustache that was a shade lighter than his jet black hair. The hair was plastered across his head in a way that made it obvious that he was trying to look younger than he was and cover up a bald spot.

The young man had sandy brown hair that was curling slightly on the edges where his hat usually sat on his head. The gun on his hip was highly polished with a well-worn ivory grip. From what Nick could see, he looked to be around twenty, certainly not much older than that.

Belton nodded a silent acknowledgment of Nick upon his entrance, and left a moment later, but as he passed the Daniels' table, the older man dropped his napkin onto the floor. Belton bent to pick it up, and Nick thought he saw Belton quickly say something to him before Daniels said, "Thank you, my good man," in a louder tone.

"Don't mention it," Belton said, and left the Cafe.

Nick saw the older man stand up and cross the room, stopping at Nick's table. Nick slowly looked at him."Can I help you?" he asked.

"I think that I can help you, Mr. Everett," he said.

"I doubt it, Mr -"

"Daniels," he said. "Herman Daniels."

"And what is it that you think you can do for me, Mr. Belton?"

"May I join you?"

Using his boot, Nick pushed the other chair out. "Make yourself at home."

"Thank you," Daniels said, carefully lowering his girth into the chair. "I'm very glad we ran into each other - apparently your son is a very good shot -"

"And?"

"Well, my nephew - Tex -" he pointed toward the young man, "he's about the best shot I've ever seen, and well, when I heard about this turkey-shoot next week, I thought it would be a good way to help people find out about him."

"To what end?" Nick asked.

Daniels frowned. "I don't -"

"Why do you want people to 'find out about him'?"

"Well, I'm his - manager, you could say, and I'm trying to get him a job with one of the wild west shows- but they all want someone who's known for handling a gun."

"So you go into a town and enter a local shooting contest, and when he comes out on top - beating farm boys and ranch hands who have never gone up against a fast gun -"

"Now, now, Mr. Everett," he said, shaking his head in denial. "Tex isn't a 'fast gun'. He's just a young farm boy. He taught himself how to shoot that gun, entered contests close to home, won them all. He's just trying to make his way in the world. Would you deny him that?"

"I'm not denying him anything," Nick told the man. "I consider him to be an interloper in a contest meant for local residents."

"The rules don't state that to be the case."

"They will next year," Nick informed him. "My food should be here momentarily, Daniels," Nick informed him. "You mentioned something about helping me?"

"I could help you win quite a bit of money - your fellow townspeople seem convinced that your son - Cole, isnt it? - is going to win next Saturday-" Nick's eyes narrowed, and Daniels swallowed heavily before continuing. "I'm just as convinced that Tex will win. So what would you say to a wager?"

"I don't gamble," Nick said.

"From what I've heard around town, you play poker -"

"Poker's not a gamble for me," Nick informed him. "Sorry."

"Sounds like you're not too sure that boy of yours can beat Tex."

"We'll find that out next week," Nick told him as Grace brought a plate and set it before him. Nick shook open his napkin, then picked up the knife and fork. "If you'll excuse me."

"I hope your son doesn't find out about your lack of confidence in his abilities," Daniels said, not moving.

"Good bye, Mr. Daniels," Nick said in a firm voice, fixing his gaze on the man's eyes. "Now I suggest that you rejoin your nephew." Daniels stood, pushing the chair back so that it made a loud noise. "Oh, and just so you know - there will be no placing of bets on that turkey-shoot in my saloon. Is that clear?" he asked, cutting a piece of steak and spearing it with his fork before looking up at the man again.

Daniels' eyes narrowed as well, and a tight smile appeared on his plump face. "Perfectly, Mr. Everett. There are - other places in town."

"I think you'll find that most of them will give you the same message." Nick focused his attention on his food as Daniels returned to his table. Only a moment later, he and the boy were gone, and Nick took a deep breath as Betsy Collins appeared at his table. Nick smiled up at her. "Betsy."

"I just wanted to say thank you," she told him.

"No need."

"Is Cole still going to enter the contest?" she asked.

"I think I'd have to lock him up to keep him away," Nick told her. "Have you heard who's making those big bets? I don't mean the small ones between locals."

"No one's talking," she told him. "Carl's asked around. Jason, Harry - even Nate."

"Well, if you do hear anything, let the Sheriff know - and me or Jess."

"I will. I'll let you finish your supper in peace now."

"Thank you. It's very good, as always."

"Flatterer," she said as she moved away to another table to talk to the customers there.

==============

As he left the Cafe, he saw a light on over in the old stage depot, and turned in that direction. The shades were pulled, so Nick knocked softly on the glass. Ernie opened the door. "Nick! Come in!"

"I didn't expect that you'd be over here tonight," Nick told him.

"Just getting things set in my mind - where things will go - Is there a carpenter in town? Someone who can put up rails and -"

"Sure. Paul Grover. He's the railroad station-master now. You met him at the Council meeting. He'll get you set up."

"I'll talk to him tomorrow after getting that draft to the bank."

"So, did you escort Mrs. Drummond home?"

Ernie grinned. "I did. She's very intelligent. And she's most enthusiastic about the newspaper."

"I don't understand," Nick sighed.

"What don't you understand?"

"Well, when I knew you, you would have gone out of your way to avoid someone like Iris Drummond."

"I've changed. Maybe I grew up. The type of women we used to spend time with had no future. They were - momentary interests. No permanence. And a man needs permanence eventually."

"I'll agree with you about that.

Ernie frowned. "I thought you went home earlier."

"I did. But there's a possible problem - Maybe I shouldn't -"

"Nick, don't be afraid to tell me what's going on. Give me the facts. If there's a story -"

"Off the record?" Nick asked.

"Off the record."

Nick told Ernie about the turkey-shoot, and about Cole being most likely the best shot in the territory, much less in Providence, leading into the Daniels' arrival and the placing of large bets. "What we want to do is stop the large bets," Nick told him. "I have a feeling that Daniels has something in mind to prevent Cole from participating."

"You know, I've done quite a bit of traveling around the territory in the last few months - I recall hearing someone talk about a young man and his uncle who left town not long before I arrived."

"Was it them? Herman and Tex Daniels?"

"Tex. Yeah. Could be. In fact, I'm sure of it. There were bets that the boy, Tex could outshoot anyone in town. The other man - his uncle, I guess - set up a contest between them, but somehow the two men ended up in a gunfight. It was a fair fight, the local man drew first. The uncle collected his winnings and they left town."

"And now they're here in Providence."

"You know, there might be a way to stop this -"

"Sounds like you have an idea."

Ernie smiled. "I might at that."

====================

"So I suppose you need me to take care of Caleb for you tomorrow while you're out visiting?" Lily asked Jess over dinner.

"I'm sorry, Lily, but would you mind?"

Lily shook her head. "Of course I don't. Having that pen helps me keep up with Katie so that I can give my attention to Caleb. And Cassie and Bobby will be here tomorrow for awhile, according to what she told me today."

"I think we're going to need another pen," Jess told Kevin and Cole.

"I'll ask Pedro to show me how he made the last one," Cole told her. "But I'm not making the mattress -"

"I'll take care of that," Lily told him.

"And I'll make some time tomorrow to go over and talk to George Lansing about whether or not he made a bet on the turkey-shoot," Kevin told Jess.

"So - people in town are making bets that Cole will win the turkey-shoot?" Ben asked.

"That's right, son," Kevin told him.

"Wow. Can I -?"

"No!" All three adults in the room spoke at once, and Ben's eyes widened at their response.

"They're trying to stop the betting, cousin," Cole told him in a much calmer tone.

"Because gambling is wrong," Ben nodded, then looked at Jess. "But - Uncle Nick-"

Cole put down his fork and folded his napkin. "Tell you what, why don't we go out and play with Daisy for a little while and I'll try to explain the difference. Excuse us," he said to the adults as he and Ben left the room.

"One minute Ben seems like he's almost as old as Cole, and the next he's still a little boy," Lily sighed. "Cole is so good with him."

====================

Cole was waiting in the barn when Nick rode in late that night. "What are you doing out here?" Nick asked as he stepped out of the saddle.

"I wanted to know what you found out," Cole explained, stepping over to the horse to start unfastening the cinch. "I'll take care of it."

Nick stepped back, watching. "Think I'm too old to unsaddle my horse?" he asked.

"Not at all. So did you find out about the betting?"

"Yes." He told Cole about Tex and Herman Daniels as the boy finished and led Spirit into a stall before putting some grain into a bucket for him.

"Tex? What a name," Cole said, shaking his head. "Is he any good?"

"He must be, if his uncle has been pushing him this hard." They started for the house. "Cole, I've seen you shoot - but - how good are you at grouping your shots?"

Cole looked confused by the question. "Grouping?"

"I have an idea." Nick put his arm around the boy's shoulders as he explained what he meant as they continued into the house and up the back stairs.

=======================

"I think it's a good plan," Jess told Nick, watching him as he undressed and washed. "But I get the impression that you're not as sure of that."

"I suppose it's the fact that -" he got into bed as he spoke, "I haven't seen Ernie in so long."

"You can't think that he's part of Daniels' plan."

"I don't want to. But the fact that they all arrived at about the same time -"

"You said that the man at the saloon -"

"Belton," Nick supplied.

"You said that he was here last Saturday evening."

"And he sent for the Daniels on Monday."

"Ernie was already on the train coming here by that point," Jess told him. "He arrived Tuesday morning. There's no way that he could have gotten here that quickly."

"I know. And I feel terrible for even thinking about it."

"You know what *I* think?" she asked, turning over and resting her chin on top of her fist on his chest.

"What do you think, darlin'?"

"That you're gun-shy after what happened the last time you trusted someone you used to know."

"I suppose you could be right at that."

"Of course I am," she told him, lifting her head and opening her hand to slide it across his chest. "One of these days, you'll realize that -"

"Over-confident much?" he questioned, grabbing her hand and lifting it to his lips.

"Just sure of myself when it comes to you, darlin," she answered, smiling as he pulled her into his arms.

================

George Lansing's Bar L ranch was to the southeast of the Diamond D, and about a quarter of its size. Kevin timed his visit to his old friend during lunch, when he knew that George would be at the house. He saw the piebald mare that George rode tied in front, and tied Rusty beside the animal just as the front door opened.

"Kevin!" George said, holding a napkin in his hand. "This is a surprise. Mabel! Kevin's here, set him a place!" he called as he pulled Kevin into the house.

"Hello, Kevin," Mabel said, putting a clean plate and utensils on the table.

"Mabel. Thanks, but - I already had lunch. I'll take some coffee, though," he told her with a smile. During school, Mabel had made it clear that she liked Kevin, but she had ended up marrying his friend.

"You don't mind if I finish mine, do you?" George asked, sitting down again at the table.

"No, of course not." He smiled as Mabel brought him the coffee. "I really wanted to discuss something with you -" he glanced at Mabel, who picked up her empty plate.

"I'm going to get a head start on the dishes. Nice to see you, Kevin."

George took another bite of food and then sat back. "What's going on?"

"What do you know about large bets being placed on the turkey-shoot next week?"

"Well, considering that you came to me, someone must have said something. Yes, I bet on Cole to win the shoot. Is there a problem with that?"

"How much?"

"I can afford it," George told him. "And it's a sure thing. One of my hands saw Cole practicing a few days ago. Said he could draw faster than greased lightning, and never missed a shot. Hard for me to believe that an outsider could beat that."

"That outsider has been doing exactly that all over the southwest, George," Kevin told him. "That's how his and his uncle make their living. Now, a small wager between friends - local friends - that's okay. But if things get out of hand, the Town Council will put a stop to the shoot-out for next year."

George sighed. "So if I change my bet to say - a hundred, that's acceptable?"

"You can try, but I would expect that the gentleman will resist that change."

"So then I'll just cancel the bet," George told him, then grinned. "He'll probably scream about that, too."

"Let him scream. From what I've heard, it might do him some good."

"I still say that Cole's got this locked up."

"He very well could, but I'd hate to see anyone around here lose big money just in case things don't go that way." Kevin stood up. "I have to get going. Thank you for the coffee."

"Anytime," George said, rising and going to the door with him. He waved as Kevin got on his horse and rode away.

================

On Saturday evening, Herman Daniels sat at a table with his nephew, nursing a glass of whiskey as he watched Belton playing poker with Nick and four other men. "Why don't you join the game, Uncle?" Tex asked.

"For table stakes? Not worth my time." He shook his head. "Only way to find out how good a player really is is to see how much he's willing to risk to win the game."

"I'm going to the hotel and get some rest," Tex said.

"It's still early, boy."

"I've heard that they have church services tomorrow, and I thought maybe -"

"How many times have I told you, Tex," Herman said in a firm tone as he grabbed Tex's wrist, to let me do the thinking?"

"But Uncle -"

"I said no." He lowered his voice. "Last thing these rubes need to see is you going to *church*. Go get some rest. We'll ride out of town tomorrow morning and practice. Since everyone will be at church, it will be a good time." Tex nodded and left the saloon. Daniels finished his glass of whiskey and lifted it to get the attention of one of the girls. "I'll have another," he told her, watching as she went to the bar. Pretty little thing - closer to Tex's age than his, of course, but she would probably - the arrival of another customer caused him to frown. He'd seen the man around town, and wondered who he was. The suit and bowler hat marked him as an Eastern dude, however. When the girl returned with his drink, he asked, "Who is that?"

"Oh, that's Mr. Graves," she told him. "He's a newspaper man. He's starting a paper here in town."

Daniels' eyes lit up. "A newspaper man? Thank you," he told the girl, who walked away. He picked up his glass and went over to the bar beside the man. "Can I buy you a drink, Mr. Graves?"

Ernie Graves turned to look at him. "You have me at a disadvantage, Mr. -"

"Daniels. Herman Daniels." He took note of the bartender's narrowed gaze and picked up both glasses. "Why don't we go over here and talk?"

Ernie sat down so that he was facing Nick, taking the chair that Daniels had been sitting in. "Thank you for the drink."

"No problem. I hear that you're a newspaper man," Daniels said.

"I am."

"Do you have any contacts back east with newspapers there?"

Ernie smirked. "A few. My father is the editor in chief for the New York Guardian."

He saw recognition of the name. "Wow."

"Let me guess: you have a story that you think I'd be interested in."

"I know that you would be. It's my nephew. You've probably seen him around town the last couple of days."

"Thin, brown hair, wears his gun low on his hip?"

"Yeah, that's Tex. He's good with that gun. Real good."

"I don't do stories about gunfighters," Ernie told him.

"He's not a gunfighter - oh, he's had to face a few men who insisted on calling him out, but he's never drawn first. No, usually, we go into a town and enter a shooting contest -"

"Like the turkey-shoot next week," Ernie nodded. "I still don't see a story. Lots of people have entered that contest - one of the locals is the favorite, if I'm not mistaken."

"Tex'll win that contest. He always does. And the story would be his winning over the local favorite. See, what Tex wants is to go to work for one of the wild west shows as a marksman. But they won't even talk to him unless they read about him in newspapers. I figure that if I could get you to write some stories - maybe get them published in other papers -"

"And if he loses next week?"

"Won't happen."

"You're very sure of that."

"Tex has never lost a match. I can get you a list of places we've gone that will prove that."

"Are you the one who's been taking bets for the last few days?"

"Man's got to make a living somehow, right?" Daniels asked. "If someone believes their man - or boy can win, and is willing to put money down on it, why should I turn them down?"

"We might be able to work something out," Ernie told him, lifting his glass as though to salute the man.

Nick glanced at Cara, who went over to Belton. "Would you like another drink, sir?"

Belton, who had been flirting with Cara ever since his arrival in town, smiled up at her. "Why, sure, honey."

The game continued until she returned with the glass of whiskey, setting it on his right side. Suddenly Cara gasped and moved back. "Hey, just because I brought you a drink doesn't give you the right to -"

Belton shook his head. "I didn't touch you!" he insisted, but Nick stood up after putting his cards face down on the table.

"Cara?"

"He grabbed me, Nick," she insisted.

"I saw him," Leroy said.

Jake stood at the bar, shotgun in hand.

"Why you liar," Belton said as he took a swing at Leroy, connecting with his left jaw. His next move was toward the gun he was wearing.

Nick already had his gun out and ready. "Hold it right there, Belton. Jake, get the Sheriff."

"You're not going to have me arrested!" Belton said.

"Fighting in the saloon is a crime in Providence," Nick told him as Leroy got back to his feet. "Especially if the other person files charges. Leroy?"

"Yeah," Leroy said, rubbing his jaw. "He near broke my jaw," he said.

"Put your gun on the table," Nick told Belton. "Slowly. Don't make me have to shoot you."

Belton put the gun onto the table. "I don't believe this," he muttered, and Nick saw him glance in Daniels' direction, as if seeking support from that quarter - but none was forthcoming.

Jake returned with Lucas, who asked what was going on. After Nick explained the circumstances, Lucas turned to Leroy. "Do you want to press charges?" he asked.

"Yep," he nodded, wincing and still holding his jaw.

"Sorry, but I can't do much to help you, Miss Cara," Lucas told her.

"I'm used to it, Sheriff," she told him. "But I think you need to get him out of here before Jake decides to take matters into his own hands."

Jake was still holding the shotgun, glaring at Belton, who said again, "I didn't touch her!"

"You'd better come with me," Lucas told him, taking his arm and his gun. "Leroy, I'll need you to fill out a complaint -"

"Be there in a bit, Sheriff," he nodded.

"Going to see the Doctor?" Lucas asked.

"Yep. But I'm gonna finish this hand, first." He showed his cards to Lucas.

Lucas chuckled and looked at Nick, shaking his head as he followed Belton out of the saloon.

Nick sat down, picking up his cards. "You held onto that hand even with getting hit, Leroy?"

"I did," Leroy told him.

"Must be a good hand."

"It'll cost you to find out," Leroy answered.

Across the room, Daniels had muttered under his breath, "Stupid fool" more than once as he and Ernie sat watching the scene play out.

"That wasn't a good move on that man's part. From what I've seen just in the last few days, the bartender and Miss Cara are good friends."

"Stupid fool," Daniels said again.

The hand ended - with Leroy losing yet again - and Ernie stood up. "Thank you for the drink, Mr. Daniels. If you need to contact me, I'm setting up shop across the street in the old Stage Depot -"

"Where are you going?" Daniels asked.

"To get some names and information on what just happened. Now *that* is a story." He went to Leroy. "Excuse me - I'd like to get some information -"

Nick watched as Herman Daniels left the saloon. "Go wake Dr. Mitchell up and have him look at your jaw, Leroy. I'll give Mr. Graves the information he needs for his story."

Leroy nodded. "See you tomorrow morning," he said.

"And thank you."

"I'd say my pleasure, but -" he put a hand to his face again. "It hurts," he said as he turned and left.

"Taking a break, gentlemen," Nick told the others as he gathered his winnings and moved away from the table with Ernie. "Now, Mr. Newspaperman, what do you need to know?" he asked as they sat down at Nick's table. "Jake, get Mr. Graves a glass of whiskey, please."

Ernie shook his head. "Thanks, but - one's my limit."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "I remember when you could drink a whole bottle and still walk a straight line."

"Long time ago," Ernie told him. "Looks like I'm going to be writing a story about Tex Daniels to send to my father to publish in the Guardian," he said. "What remains to be seen is how much it means to him."

"How much of his ill-gotten gains he'll give up, you mean?"

Ernie grinned. "Do you think you'll be able to keep him from talking to Belton?"

"There are two cells in the jail. One has a window, one doesn't. Which one do you think Belton will be in?"

"And if Daniels goes into the jail, he'll have to admit that they know each other."

"Exactly."

"So far, so good," Ernie told him. "Step one of our plan is finished. Now, on to step two. Do you really think it will work?"

"We'll know after church tomorrow. Speaking of church -"

Ernie sighed. "Do you know how long it's been since I stepped foot inside of a church, Nick? The roof might fall in."

"Can't be much longer than it was for me when I came to town. All I'm asking is that you give it a chance. Can you honestly say that you think I'm the same man you knew when we were younger?"

"No. But that change could have happened at any point -"

"I think it was starting," Nick confirmed. "But coming here - I made a deal with Cole when he came to live with us - a month. Give it a month. Four weeks. That's not a lot to ask, is it?"

Another sigh. "I never could say no to you," Ernie said.

Nick grinned. "You won't regret it." Ernie shook his head, and Nick said, "Have I ever steered you wrong?"

"Well, there was that time -"

====================

Ernie decided to go back to the office and start writing his 'story' about young Tex Daniels. When he got there, he found a note in the door. Taking it inside, he lit a lamp and then opened the note.

"If you'd like to see how well Tex can shoot - meet us at the livery stable at 11 tomorrow morning."

It was unsigned, but Ernie knew that it had come from Herman Daniels. He put the note down and went over to the desk in one corner. Nick would understand.

He would start his four weeks next Sunday. It was a better choice anyway - since it was the town's Fall Festival meal.

====================

Ernie saw Matt Carter leave the Mercantile with his family, and left the office to catch him. "Matt!" he called, glancing at the hotel, hoping that Daniels wasn't watching.

"Mr. Graves. I'm on my way to church -"

"I know." He pulled a piece of paper from his coat and handed it to the young man. "Would you give this to Nick Everett for me? It will explain why I wasn't able to go to church this morning as I said I would."

"Sure thing. What's going on?"

"Gathering information for an article," Ernie told him. "I'll see you later. And thank you."

"No problem," Matt assured him, turning to follow his parents.

======================

Nick looked around as Kevin pulled the wagon to a stop. "Ernie's supposed to be here," he told Jess as Cole and Ben escaped to talk to their friends before the service.

"Maybe he's already inside?" she suggested.

"No, I don't think so."

"Mr. Everett!" Matt Carter called, moving toward them. "Hello, Miss Jess."

"Hello, Matt," she said, smiling.

"Mr. Graves asked me to give this to you," he told Nick, holding out the note.

"When did he -"

"Just a few minutes ago, as we were crossing the street. Said it would explain why he wouldn't be here."

"Oh. Thank you, Matt." Nick opened the note and started reading, and his disappointment began to fade.

Seeing his smile, Jess asked, "What's going on?"

"Daniels invited him to go watch Tex practice shooting."

"During church?"

"They'll probably go outside of town to avoid prying eyes," Nick said. "He also said that he won't be at the house for Sunday dinner since we're still trying to maintain the fiction that he and I don't know each other - and if we do, we're not friends. Says he'll probably eat at the Cafe with Herman and Tex."

"So Step Two is already underway."

"So it would appear."

====================

Ernie met Daniels as he pulled a wagon out of the livery stable. "Climb aboard," Daniels said. Jerking his head toward the back of the wagon, he said, "This is Tex. Tex, meet the man who's going to make you famous and get you that job we've been talking about. Mr. Graves."

Tex nodded. "Mr. Graves."

"Tex." As Daniels turned toward the south, he asked, "Where are we going?"

"Out of town. No reason to alarm all of those fine, church-going citizens, right?"

"You realize that this road leads out to the Donager ranch, right?"

"Sure. But I'll turn out to the west here in a minute and find us a good place for Tex to show you what he can do."

"I'm hoping that I can get more information as well," Ernie said.

"Information?" Daniels asked.

"For the article, of course."

Daniels grinned. "Of course."

Taking the opportunity, Ernie asked Tex, "How old are you?"

"He's nineteen," Daniels answered.

From the back of the wagon, Tex corrected his uncle. "Twenty. Had a birthday six months ago."

Daniels looked mildly embarrassed. "Excuse me. Twenty." He looked behind them as they approached a rocky rise. "I think this will work," he decided, slowly descending from the wagon to join Tex and Ernie. Looking around, he picked up several rocks and placed them on top of a much larger rock. As he returned to where they stood near the wagon, he told Tex. "Okay, boy. Do it."

As they watched, Tex quickly drew his gun and shattered all six of the rocks, then calmly began to reload the gun.

"Impressive," Ernie nodded. "And if they move the target out at the end of each round?"

Herman smirked, finding more rocks and putting them where the first ones had been. "Back up, Tex," he called before heading back to them. "That's good."

Ernie squinted. "I can barely see them now," he said. "You're sure he can hit them?"

"Tex?"

The young man stood, arms at his sides, then drew with the same result: six shots, six rocks shattered. He turned to look at Ernie. "How was that, Mr. Graves?"

"*Very* impressive," Ernie nodded. "With a name like Tex - I'm sure you're from Texas?"

"Yessir," he said with an embarrassed grin. "That's not my given name, though. Just something Uncle Herman came up with."

"Name recognition, my boy," Herman insisted. "Tex Daniels sounds more impressive."

"What's your given name?" Ernie asked.

"Cletus," Tex said.

Ernie refused to laugh. "It's a good name. Is your father still alive?"

"Sure," Tex answered, showing more enthusiasm than before. "He has a farm east of Fort Worth."

"Who taught you to shoot?"

"I taught myself," he answered. "Kinda boring sometimes on a farm, so I used my Pa's old pistol and learned how to fire it. But times have been kinda hard. Uncle Herman came to visit and saw me shoot and when he suggested that I could make good money to help Pa out by working in one of those wild west shows, I decided to go with him. Pa wasn't happy about it, but when Uncle Herman told us that he'd send Pa money whenever we could, he finally agreed to let me go."

"So you've been sending him money?" Ernie asked Daniels. He saw the evasive look that was quickly hidden. "Of course, of course. After every shoot, I send him part of the purse. And there'll be even more once you publish that article."

"Once my father publishes it," Ernie clarified. "My publishing it here won't help you with your cause."

"It won't?"

"Unless one of the locals has a connection to the shows, no one of import will see it." He shook his head. "No, it needs to be published in a much larger city - and I know that some of the big wheels in those shows do read the Guardian."

"Then - you'll send it to your father?"

"Well," Ernie said, "That depends on how much it's worth to you."

"What do you mean?" Daniels asked, frowning.

"We'll discuss that later," he said. "Once I get the article written." Taking his watch out, he looked at it. "By the time we get back, church should be letting out."

Daniels was watching him like he was about to sprout another head, Ernie thought as he got up into the wagon. "Yeah. Com'on, Tex."

Tex jumped into the back of the wagon as well, leaving Daniels no choice but to climb laboriously into the seat and pick up the reins, flicking them to set the horse in motion as he turned back toward town.

===================

As they neared town, the return train came to a stop at the station, and Daniels crossed the track in front of the engine, having to stop as Sheriff Morgan took Belton across the street. Belton glared up at the wagon, and Daniels frowned. "What's going on there?" he wondered.

"Uncle Herman, where's Mr. Belton going?" Tex asked.

"He's leaving town," Ernie answered, ignoring for the moment the fact that the Daniels weren't supposed to know the man. "Part of the condition of his release."

Continuing toward the livery, Daniels asked, "What are you talking about? They haven't had time for a trial -"

"It was a Sheriff's hearing," Ernie told him. "Held last night, while all of the witnesses were still available. Apparently, since it was a city law that was broken, there was no need for a full trial."

"You sound like you were there," Daniels said as they left the stable.

"I was. As the local press, they couldn't keep me out. Belton was found guilty and fined fifty dollars - and was ordered to leave town on the train this afternoon." Ernie shook his head. "It's a good thing he couldn't be charged for assaulting the lady - Would have been a hundred dollar fine and two weeks in jail before he was run out on a rail."

"Sounds as though they take such things seriously in this town," Herman said, getting down. "Why don't you go get us a table at the cafe for dinner, nephew?" he suggested.

"Yessir."

"I take it you know Mr. Belton?" Ernie asked as he and Daniels followed at a slower pace.

"We're - acquaintances," Daniels said. "We were neighbors at the hotel, and he helped me to meet some of the people who wanted to place a bet on the contest. He'd been here for a few days before we arrived."

"Of course," Ernie nodded. "I saw him myself before I moved over to the office. Would you mind my joining you and Tex for dinner?"

"Not at all. It would be our pleasure."

====================

The train pulling out forced the surrey to wait at the crossing, so Nick took the opportunity to ask Lucas, "How did it go?"

"He's on the train, and Eban's riding as far as the first stop to make sure Belton doesn't get off there."

"What about Daniels and Ernie?" Jess asked.

"They were coming by as we crossed the street," he told them. "So Daniels knows his back up is out of the game."

"The one I feel sorry for is Leroy. Did you see that bruise on his cheek this morning?" Kevin wanted to know.

Lucas nodded. "I did. He's really lucky that the jaw wasn't broken."

"Not lucky," Ben insisted, and everyone finished his next words, "Blessed."

"I'll keep an eye on things around here," Lucas told them.

"Ernie knows to get a message to you if he needs to see me before tomorrow," Nick reminded the Sheriff.

"I just hope this works out," Cole said.

"Are you doubting the plan, son?" Nick asked, and Cole sat back again.

"Never, Pa."

Nick gave Lucas a grin and a wink, and Kevin said, "We'd better be getting back to the ranch or Mariana's going to think we decided to go somewhere else for Sunday dinner. See you, Lucas."

====================

On Monday morning, Jess and Nick came out of their room, but instead of turning toward the back stairs that they always used, Jess turned in the other direction, and Nick stopped. "Whoa," he said. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to use the front stairs," she told him.

"Why?"

"Mariana's making her grape jelly for the jelly and jam contest on Saturday."

A light dawned. "And you're not allowed in the kitchen," he nodded. Taking her arm, he pulled her toward the back stairs.

"Nick," she insisted, getting a tighter grip on Caleb. "What -"

"I'll keep you away from the stove so you won't have a chance to ruin her jelly."

As they came down the stairs, Mariana turned and held up a wooden spoon. "Miss Jess -!"

"Blame Nick," Jess told her. "He forced me to come down -"

"Mr. Nick, you know the rule."

"Mariana, how many years has it been since Jess dropped a spoon into the pot of jelly and caused salt to spill from the shelf over the stove into that pot?"

"Fifteen years," Mariana said.

"And who put that salt on the shelf to begin with?"

"I did, but -"

"And where is the salt now?"

She pointed to the salt cellar on the counter near the stove. "There."

"If Jess promises you that she won't go near the stove, will you say that she can use the back stairs instead of having to go all the way around by the front?"

Mariana turned to give Jess an expectant look, and Jess donned a penitent expression. "I promise you that I won't go near the stove for any reason as long as you're cooking jelly."

"I should require you to put your hand on the Good Book," Mariana said, "but I'll accept your promise."

Nick crossed the room to give the cook a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thank you."

"Anything for you, Mr. Nick," she told him with a smile, returning to her work.

====================

"Did you send that telegram?" Ernie asked Matt.

"Yes, sir, I did," Matt assured him. "All of this is very exciting," he said.

"Just remember that if Mr. Daniels asks you don't know anything."

"I'm only here to help with typesetting and printing - once the press arrives."

"Which should be Wednesday. That will give us a day to get it set up and then we'll have to set the type so that we can get that first issue out on Saturday morning."

"I think that will work out perfectly, sir. Almost everyone will be here in town for the festival, and they'll all want a newspaper."

"I hope."

"Oh, they will. I was thinking - about setting the type - my parents' machine uses standard type. Couldn't we get a head start by using it?"

"I think we might at that. We'll get a start on it later. I wanted to ask you about that machine - do you think they would be willing to sell it to me? We could do local print work during the week -"

"I'm sure they would," Matt declared. "Pa has complained about how much space it takes up that he could be using for other goods ever since they bought it."

"I need to go finalize his order for advertising, so I'll talk to him about it. Then I have to go talk to Bro. Andrew about church news -"

"When are you going to find the time to write the stories for the issue?" Matt asked.

"Most of them are already written - I do most of my writing at night."

"When do you sleep?"

"Here and there." He grabbed a notepad and a freshly sharpened pencil. "Hold down the fort."

"I will."

========================

After talking to Mr. Carter and agreeing to his price for the smaller press, Ernie went down the street to the parsonage, smiling as Bro. Andrew answered the door. "Mr. Graves," he said, "please, come in."

Ernie stepped into the house. "First thing, Bro. Andrew, I'd like to apologize for not being in church on my first Sunday here in Providence -"

"No need. We had dinner at the ranch, and Nick told me what was going on. I must say that you missed a wonderful sermon on the evils of gambling -" he said before laughing softly. "I'm sure that Nick told you otherwise."

"Yes, he did. And I did ask if that had been your topic, considering everything that's going on."

"Most of my flock are level headed and don't get in too deeply. Something like this, though, - well, temptation is difficult to fight, even with God's help, since we're all sinners. Now, enough of the sermon that I didn't deliver. What can I do for you? May I get you a cup of coffee?"

"No, thank you, I can't stay that long. I was hoping to get a list of church related meetings for next week, beginning with Saturday."

"Well, other than Sunday service, you really should talk to my wife and my mother. They do most of the community work, leaving me to visit with members of the flock that need my assistance."

"Are they here, by any chance?"

"They're both working with the sewing circle, finishing up some items for the festival. I'm on babysitting duty," he explained as the sound of a baby crying reached their ears. "Excuse me." He went into another room, and returned with a baby. "I'm not sure that you've had the chance to meet my son, Jonathan."

"Hello there, young man," Ernie said. He smiled. "Your father was one of the first settlers, wasn't he?"

"Yes. The Reverend Matthew Lee and Dr. Mark Hawkins were the first two who agreed to accept John Donager's challenge to stay and build a town and a ranch."

"Matthew, Mark, and John," Ernie recalled. "All they needed was -"

Andrew laughed. "You're aware of the Sheriff's first name?"

"Lucas - Luke," Ernie said, shaking his head. "I'm beginning to see why the town is named Providence, Bro. Andrew. And I think that I'm actually looking forward to being in church this Sunday. As long as you don't hold it against me if the roof caves in."

Andrew laughed again, shaking his head. "Trust me, we've had far worse sinners come through those doors, and the building is still standing. My father always said that the church isn't the building, anyway."

"I like that," Ernie said.

"Why don't I have Mother and Amanda write out that list for you and I'll get it to you tomorrow at the latest?"

"That will be fine. And if we could continue that every week -" Andrew nodded. "And - I'm thinking that if you have the time, you might write a short - not a sermon, but - something uplifting -?"

"I like that idea," Andrew told him. "I'll see what I can come up with."

=======================

"I hope you don't mind my waiting to walk you home again today," Ernie said as he and Iris Drummond walked down the street that afternoon.

"No, I don't mind," she told him. "Although, people in town are going to start talking, since you just 'happened' to be at the Cafe for lunch today and offered to share your table with me."

"And do you mind?" he asked again.

"I haven't decided yet," she told him. She sighed. "I haven't kept company with a man since Philip passed," she told him.

"Surely that wasn't because no man showed interest?"

"Oh, they did. It was one reason why I took the job here - I hoped, I suppose, that men here would be more likely to respect my widowhood."

"From what I've heard, that's usually not the case," he told her. "There are more men in the West than there are women."

"But Providence is so different - more respectful than other places that I've heard tell of."

"Hasn't it been lonely for you?" he asked. "Most of the women here seem to be married - or about to be married -"

"Yes," she nodded. "At times, it has been. But I have my work - I love teaching these children," she told him, and he could see the truth of that statement in her eyes. "I try to get to know each of them. Sometimes a child will stand out - like Cole Everett, for example. He's extremely bright - and you wouldn't think that, considering his background."

"His -background?" Ernie questioned.

"Surely you know about how Cole came to be with the Everetts, since you and Mr. Everett are old friends."

"Oh, yes. Sorry."

"I doubt that Mr. Everett knows that I'm aware of it," Iris told him. "Cole was my assistant for a few weeks, and told me the story - it's one reason why I was concerned about his plan to enter that turkey-shoot on Saturday."

========================

"I should have this first page set by the time I leave," Matt told Ernie.

Ernie checked his pocketwatch. "You've put in a full day, Matt," he said. "You can finish this up tomorrow morning."

"Are you sure? I don't mind staying -"

"No, you go get some supper and rest. You can finish this and the next page tomorrow. This first issue won't be as many pages as later issues. Then we'll be ready when the press arrives."

Matt grabbed his hat. "I'll see you in the morning, then. Good night."

"Good night." Ernie got up and went to lower the shades on the front windows, locking the front door at the same time, before going upstairs. When he returned, he was carrying a bowl of the stew that Amanda Lee had sent with her husband when he delivered the list of church events for next week.

Before sitting at the desk, he poured a cup of coffee from the pot sitting on the small woodstove in one corner of the room. As he ate, he worked on one of the stories for the paper's second page. Glancing up, he saw that it was starting to get dark, and he could hear the sound of voices coming from the saloon across the street. Moving to the back door, Ernie unlocked it, opening it and looking out at the dark alley.

Someone knocked on the front door, and Ernie closed the back door, going to the front of the building and unlocking the door to find Herman Daniels standing there. "Mr. Daniels," Ernie said.

"Missed you at supper," Daniels said, pushing past him into the office.

"I've been working," Ernie told him. "I had some stew that Mrs. Lee sent over - " he closed the door. "Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"Wouldn't say no to a glass of whiskey," Daniels told him.

"I don't keep whiskey in the office," Ernie said. He moved to the desk and picked up a neatly written page, holding it out to the man. "Here."

"What's this?" Daniels asked, frowning.

"The story about your nephew."

"It's finished?" He sat down and started reading. "Tex Daniels is a twenty-year old from Texas who taught himself to shoot a six-gun to fight the boredom of growing up on his father's farm . . ." As he finished the article, Daniels looked impressed. "Even got a mention of his manager in there. So when are you going to send it to your father?"

"As I said, that depends on you."

"On what it's worth to me, I think you said."

"Exactly," Ernie nodded, going to refill his cup. The woodstove was beside the back window, and Ernie thought he saw movement in the alley, but continued to talk to his visitor. "I think you should give me some of your take on Saturday."

"My -"

"The money you'll make when Tex wins that contest. And since there's no cash prize, I'll make it clear - the money from the bets you've convinced several locals to place."

"How much would you expect me to give you?"

"Oh, at least half of the proceeds - " he said, turning to see the outrage on Daniels' face at the idea.

"Half?! That's - outrageous!" he declared.

Ernie reached over and retrieved the story. "Oh, well," he said, moving over to the stove and opening it, "I'm sure you'll run into someone else who can do what you need done -" his hand, holding the story, hovered near the fire in the stove. "I won't be needing this -"

"Wait!" Daniels said before the paper could meet the flames. "Okay. But I won't be able to send Tex's father any money -"

"Oh, come now, Mr. Daniels - I'd be surprised if you've sent him *any* money since you and the boy left that farm. And whatever letters your brother has sent to the boy - or that he has sent back home - have had to go through you."

"How dare you -"

"I'm sure it wouldn't be difficult to find Tex's father and ask him about it - or to ask Tex -"

Daniels sighed. "Very well. Half. And you'll send the story -"

"As soon as I have the money in hand," Ernie assured him. "Now, if you wouldn't mind, I do have stories to finish writing, so -" he opened the front door.

"One more thing," Daniels said, pausing as he moved toward the door. "I've heard around town that you and Everett are old friends."

"We *were* friends," Ernie admitted. "But we had a major disagreement before he left New York - and we've barely spoken since my arrival. He is *not* my friend." He met Daniels' gaze squarely before the larger man nodded, as if he accepted Ernie's statement.

"Have a good night."

"I'll spend most of it writing," Ernie told him. Once Daniels was gone, Ernie locked the door again and looked through the slit at the edge of the blind as the back door opened and Nick entered the office. "He might come back," Ernie said.

"I doubt it," Nick told him, taking a cup and pouring a cup of coffee for himself. Lifting the cup, he said, "Here's to old friends."

Ernie smiled and picked up his cup. "To old friends."

They laughed softly. "I almost believed what you told him," Nick said, picking up the paper that Ernie had threatened to burn. "Do you really think that Daniels has been lying to the boy about sending money back home?" he asked once he scanned the page.

"He practically admitted it. He certainly doesn't want me to talk to Tex about it."

"How good is the boy?" Nick asked.

"He's fast on the draw, certainly. How fast is Cole?"

"You'll find that out on Saturday."

"Nick, about Cole - what's his story?" He saw the guarded expression on his friend's face.

"Why do you ask?"

"Simple curiosity. He's fifteen, and you say he's fast with a six-gun - that's unusual, even for the West, isn't it?"

"Just takes practice," Nick told him, indicating the paper he just read. "Tex taught himself how to shoot and kept practicing -"

"Is that what happened with Cole?"

"Something like that," Nick said.

"I'll be honest - I was walking Iris Drummond home this afternoon - and she said something about having been concerned about Cole entering the turkey-shoot because of his background. She assumed that since you and I are friends, you would have already told me about that background. I let her think that you had, but -"

"And she found out - how?"

"From Cole, while he was helping her with the class, I think."

"Look, Ernie -"

"Nick, whatever you tell me, it's between us. You know that I would never take advantage of our friendship to get a story."

"Off the record."

Ernie nodded. "Off the record."

"Cole was raised on a small ranch just this side of Taos," Nick began.

============================

"What did Ernie have to say?" Jess asked Nick when he got home.

"Daniels is set up and ready," Nick told her, pulling off his boots. "Now it's just a matter of waiting for Saturday. He does think that Daniels has been lying to the boy."

"That's sad." She watched him begin to remove his coat and vest, jerking at his tie angrily. "What's wrong?" she asked, and he looked at her with a crooked grin.

"What makes you think anything's wrong?" he wanted to know.

"Because I know you, remember?" she said, kneeling beside his chair.

Nick sat back, looking up at the ceiling. "I had to tell Ernie about Cole's background," he said.

"Why? You don't think he would -"

"No, he won't put it in the paper," Nick said. "Apparently Cole told Mrs. Drummond who is father was."

"Oh." She set about removing the cufflinks from his shirt, then moved to unbutton his shirt. "And what was Ernie's response?"

"He'd never heard of Buck Martin," Nick said. "But I told him about the man, and about how he taught Cole how to draw and shoot a gun. He said it would make a good story, but that he understood how some people might not be willing to accept Cole because of it."

"And I think you're still selling people around here short. So is Cole."

"Maybe. I hope so. Because it will have to come out, eventually. Ernie did get a laugh out of hearing how we told everyone in town that Caleb was our baby, though."

She stood up and took his hands to pull him to his feet, sliding her arms around him. "I'm glad he was so amused by that," she told him. "I love that baby more than I can say," she sighed. "But there are times when I still wish it were true. That he was *really* ours."

"Oh, darlin', so do I. And he is, in every way that matters. But it's still in God's time -"

"Mmm," she murmured, moving her arm up to pull his head down to hers.

Once the kiss ended, he whispered, "I love you."

"I love you. Come to bed."

=================

The rest of the week went by quickly. The arrival of the printing press on Wednesday morning was a major event, witnessed by most of the community. By the time Saturday morning dawned, Ernie and Matt had printed the first issue of the Providence Herald, and Matt went up and down Front Street, selling them to people who were in town for the Fall Festival. Booths and tables were set up on each side of the street, with pies and cakes and jelly ready to be judged, as well as quilts and fine needlework.

Jess bought a paper, and in keeping with the fiction of not being a friend of the publisher/editor, Nick frowned and shook his head when she offered it to him. Looking around, she asked, "Where are Mr. Daniels and his nephew, I wonder? I don't see them anywhere."

"Probably still up in their hotel room," Nick told her as he examined a crocheted shawl. "I doubt that he wants Tex to be exposed to the people that he intends to fleece."

Caleb was a bit restless, so Nick reached over and took him from Jess. "That better?" Nick asked. Caleb smiled, putting his fingers into his mouth. "He might be hungry."

"Surely not. He ate before we left the house." She picked up the shawl. "This is lovely. Elsie does wonderful work."

"Have you seen Cole since we arrived? We barely got into town and his was gone."

"He and the other boys were heading over to help get the hay ready for the turkey-shoot later. They're going to stack it in front of the monument, and then back the shooters up for each round if necessary."

"When is the contest supposed to start?"

"After all of the other judging is finished." She nodded toward the furthest table. "They're already looking at the jellies and jams."

"Well, then, we'd better get down there to support Mariana, hadn't we?"

"She'll win. She always does."

====================

As the tables were moved off the street, Carl Collins signaled for quiet from the crowd. When they still continued to talk, several men whistled, getting their attention for the hotel owner. "Thank you," he told them. "Now, folks, it's time for the inaugural Turkey-shoot. As for the rules, each shooter will get one shot at the target, and then lower their gun so that the target can be examined and marked. We have ten turkeys, and the largest will go to the shooter who gets first place - there's also a certificate - printed by our newest merchant, Mr. Ernest Graves and his assistant Matt Carter." There was a flurry of applause in Ernie and Matt's direction. "The remaining turkeys will be awarded by weight to the remaining contestants." He looked a the men standing on the edge of the street as they were joined by Tex Daniels. He was wearing dark clothes, black gloves, and a black hat, and kept his eyes focused on the ground in front of him. "We have ten contestants, so each one will get a turkey to be cooked for the town's meal tomorrow after church." Carl looked at the paper in his hand. "First to shoot: Jaycee Grover."

As Jaycee moved to the firing line, several people called out, "Good luck, Jaycee," including Cole. His shot went to the right of the center of the target, and was marked by Matt Carter.

The next seven shooters came close to the bulls-eye, one even hit just on the edge, but the last two shooters where what everyone in town was waiting for. Jess could feel the tension growing, and glanced across the street to see Herman Daniels standing with his arms folded across his chest, watching as Tex moved to the line. "Next to last shooter: Tex Daniels," Carl announced.

The boy seemed to let the suspense grow before finally drawing his gun and firing. Matt ran out as Tex returned the gun to its holster, announcing, "Just right of center. Best so far."

Nick put has arm around Jess, pulling her close to him as Cole glanced their way before moving toward the center of the street. "Last shooter: Cole Everett."

"Make us proud, Cole!"

"Good luck!"

Cole seemed to have shut out all of the good wishes as he stood there, arms at his side. Then he stopped and turned from the targets, speaking loudly. "I've heard that some of you have placed a bet that I'll win this contest." The crowd murmured quietly. "Before I shoot, I want each of you to promise now that whatever you win - over the amount of the initial bet - you'll give it to Bro. Andrew for the church."

Nick turned his head to look at Jess. She felt his stare, but didn't look away from Cole as he continued.

"Promise?" He asked, and several people answered in the affirmative. So Cole turned back to the firing line, drew, and fired. There was an almost audible gasp from the crowd, both at the speed of his draw and fearing that his actions were too hasty. Holstering his gun, Cole took a deep breath. Even Herman Daniels took a few steps onto the street as Matt went to examine the target. "Dead center!" he declared, ripping the target from the bales of hay and bringing it back to the shooting line as the crowd erupted in shouts of congratulations.

"Good shooting, Cole!"

"Knew you could do it, boy!"

Daniels went over to Tex, speaking to him, shaking his head while everyone else was moving to congratulate Cole. By the time the family got to him, Jess was still teary eyed. "Nick told me you were fast, but -"

Cole shrugged. "I knew I could do it. But he *is* good. Another inch to the left, and it would have been a tie. I thought we'd end up that way anyway. Someone told me we were going to be shooting by twos."

"Well," Nick told him, scratching behind his ear, "I had a chat with Mr. Collins and some of the other council members about that plan."

"Didn't think I could beat him in the pattern shooting?" Cole asked.

Ernie moved to Daniels and Tex as Herman turned and saw him. "Well?" Ernie asked, holding the paper with the story.

"I'm not going to make any money off this!" Daniels told him, keeping his voice low in the hope that no one else would hear. "I don't even have enough to pay out to the winners!" He turned around and crossed the street to where Cole was standing.

Ernie pulled another piece of paper from his pocket, holding it out to Tex. "You might be interested in this, young man. It's the answer to a telegram I sent your father last Monday, asking if your uncle had sent him any money."

===============

"Congratulations, young man," Daniels said to Cole. "I'm sorry that Tex wouldn't come over here with me, but - well, he doesn't take well to being bested, I'm afraid. There are times when I'm ashamed to say that he's my nephew, honestly. He said some terrible things about you - and about your Pa - He said your Pa was a coward - That he's hiding behind you -"

Nick's eyes narrowed dangerously, and Jess put a hand on his chest in case he wanted to call Daniels out. "He's not wearing a gun, Nick," she reminded him.

"That's right, Ma," Cole said. "He's not. But my Pa is," he told Daniels. "He doesn't have to hide behind me or anyone else. You're the coward, Mr. Daniels, hiding behind your nephew's gun. But if you'd like to strap one on, I'd be more than glad to -"

"Uncle Herman!" Tex called out, coming toward him with a look of anger on his young face.

"Now, Tex," Daniels said. "You need to calm down. This boy beat you fair and square -"

"I don't care about Cole," Tex said. "You lied to me! You told me you were sending money to my Pa - but you lied!"

"Now, my boy, you have to understand -"

"Someone give him a gun," Tex called out.

"He can use mine," Cole said, taking out his gun and turning it to present the grip to Daniels, who backed away, nearly falling as he did so.

"You're both crazy!" he said. Taking some money from his coat pocket, he threw it into the dirt, declaring, "Here's the bets I was holding!" before turning and running back into the hotel.

==================

"Long, tiring day," Nick said as he watched Jess brushing her hair.

"At least it won't be as bad tomorrow," she told him. "I'm glad Cole talked Tex into going to church tomorrow and joining the town for dinner."

"Ernie told me that he offered to send that story to his father, but Tex has decided to go back home and help him on the farm. Says he's had enough adventure to last a lifetime. He's even going to sell his gun."

She checked on Caleb before joining Nick in bed. "That's probably for the best. I feel sorry for him. His uncle forced him to kill how many men for no reason?"

"Five, I think is what he said." He tangled his fingers in her hair. "Now, I wonder where Cole got the idea about donating those bets to the church?"

"What?"

"Only two people know about that," he said, raising himself up to look at her. "Andrew - and you. Now, I can't see him talking to Andrew about it, so that -" he kissed the tip of her nose "-just-" another kiss, this time on her left eye, "-leaves-" the next kiss was on her right eye "-you, darlin'."

"I just thought he should know that you're not the hard-case that you pretend to be," she told him, adding "Darlin'," as she slid her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her.

The End

Jess, Nick and the rest will return in the next installment of "The Donager Saga".