Murder in the West
By Pamala Rush

All Disclaimers apply.

	Steve ate half of the pizza he and his father had 
ordered himself before burying himself in the loads of 
case files. The case he was working on was pretty cut and 
dry. Either the man's daughter had done it, or his son. 
The case files were of similar murders and he was 
comparing them to the one he worked on now.
	His mind kept wandering. Somewhere above him, Mark 
was watching an old western and he could hear the music 
floating down the stairs and into his apartment. It was a 
little loud, but Steve knew that it was just Mark trying 
to entice him into joining him for viewing of the movie. 
Too much time had passed as it was, and Steve was way past 
letting the matter drop.
	He sat on his couch, bare feet propped up on the 
coffee table. Files were laying everywhere as long as it 
was within reach. His shirt wasn't even buttoned, Steve 
having been a bit too lazy to button it after throwing it 
back on after a quick shower. He yawned and lay his head 
back on the couch, listening to the shoot-out that was 
taking place on his father's TV. Somewhere in there, he 
drifted off to sleep.

	The dirt road was long and narrow with ruts that 
were deep and muddy. Steve's horse picked it's way through 
the worst of the mud clumps as they made their way towards 
town.
	'What am I doing here?' Steve thought as he pushed 
on through the trees and to the crest of the hill where he 
looked down on the town.
	It was the place where the ex-lawman had grown up. 
Once a bustling city in the height of the gold rush, 
Serenity was now a town of barely 100 souls. The railroad 
was the only reason it hadn't become a ghost town the way 
so many others had in the days of the early 1880's.
	He pulled his hat down a bit on his forehead and the 
collar up a bit more on his neck. The rain was relentless 
in it's desire to make the last leg of Steve's trip 
unbearable.
	His pants were soaked clear through and his long 
riding coat a mess of water and mud. He felt like he had 
an inch of water in the bottom of his boots and the chill 
he felt only sought to hurry him on.
	By the time he reached the outskirts of the town, 
the rain had gone from downpour to sprinkle to drizzle and 
finally to nothing. The sun tried to peek through the 
clouds with some success, but it did nothing the heighten 
the mood that Steve was in.
	His mother had died some years back. His father, 
Mark, had sent him a telegram in Deadwood telling him 
about the accident which had taken not only Steve's 
mother, but his sister's husband as well. He had almost 
returned home then, but the time had not been right.
	The house where he grew up was at the other end of 
town. He had to go though town to get there. Mark was the 
town doctor, and people had called him 'Old Doc Sloan' for 
as long as Steve could remember. Steve was probably 
looking forward to seeing his father the least.
	The first house on the edge of town was Sheriff 
Masters' home. Masters sat on the front porch, watching as 
Steve's horse carried him into town. For some reason, just 
seeing the Sheriff always made Steve sit up straight. Even 
now, a full grown man, Steve couldn't stop the sign of 
respect for the man.
	Masters recognized Steve instantly, even though the 
younger man had grown more rugged and was a bit dirty and 
unshaven.
	"Steve Sloan," Masters said as his face broke into a 
smile. "Long time no see."
	"Yup," Steve replied. "Long time."
	Masters moved down the front stairs and to where 
Steve had halted his horse. "Doc's been scared he'd get a 
wire sayin' you'd died before he ever saw you agin."
	Steve took a breath. "I've been away too long. It's 
time for me to come home."
	"To stay?"
	Steve nodded. "To stay."
	Masters nodded shortly and headed back into the 
house so that Steve could continue his trip home.
	On his ride through town, Steve noticed that there 
were some new faces and some faces that he knew but had 
grown older in the time he had been gone. Those that he 
knew smiled and nodded as he passed.
	The horse brought him to his father's gate and he 
slid down the side and stood there waiting for the courage 
to come. His choice was taken away when his sister came 
out the front door saying, "Yes it has stopped raining, 
dad...." She stopped mid sentence when she saw Steve 
standing at the gate of the picket fence.
	Carol stopped and looked at her brother. She was as 
beautiful as Steve had remembered her.
	Carol was speechless. She had never thought she 
would ever see him again. "Steve?" she said questioningly 
when she found her tongue.
	Steve smiled. This was the part he had been looking 
forward to. He pushed the gate open in time to catch his 
sister as she flew into his arms.
	"I can't believe it's you," she said as she pulled 
back to look at him. "You're a bit grungy, but the same 
old Steve."
	That was the moment that Mark Sloan chose the exit 
the house. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs that led 
to the screened porch where they used to sit on warm 
summer nights when they were children.
	"Steve," Mark said. "How have you been?"
	Steve shrugged. "Fine. You?"
	"Fine," Mark replied then fell silent.
	Steve glanced down at Carol, who nodded slightly, 
then went through the gate and stood before his father. 
"It's been a long time," he said.
	"A very long time," Mark acknowledged.
	They just stood looking at each other until Mark 
decided he couldn't just stand looking at his son any 
longer. He reached out and pulled the man to him in a 
strong hug which Steve returned.

	Warm water unexpectedly poured over Steve's head and 
he jumped. "Dad, that's enough!" he exclaimed as he pushed 
the hair out of his eyes.
	Steve sat in the large metal bathtub waist deep in 
water. The tub sat in the middle of Steve's old bedroom on 
the second floor of his father's two story house. The bed 
stood off to one side of the room. While Steve got cleaned 
up, Mark filled the bathtub for him.
	"Do you need me to scrub your back?" Mark asked him 
eagerly. 
	Once upon a time when Steve was a kid, his father 
had come in to scrub his back during his bath, and usually 
a bit too hard. Fortunately, Steve remembered what it felt 
like for his father to scrub his back.
	"No thanks dad," Steve said as he took the rag in 
one hand and the soap in the other. "I can reach."
	Steve soaped up the rag and began washing, starting 
at the top and working his way down, rinsing as he went.
	Mark stood for a second to see if Steve needed 
anything else, before asking straight out, "Need anything 
else?"
	"Yeah," Steve replied. "Tell me about the town."
	Mark pulled a chair up next to the tub and thought 
for a minute. "Well, Carol is running the boarding house 
next door. She's got some regular borders, one being a 
woman named Amanda Livingstone. Amanda's got a cute little 
boy that everyone calls CJ. She came out here with her 
husband, who was the town undertaker, some years ago, but 
he died in a smallpox outbreak last year. Amanda has kind 
of taken over the job." Steve nodded his head and Mark 
went on. "Then there's the young man I'm grooming to take 
over when I retire...."
	Steve snorted. "You'll never retire."
	Mark ignored him and went on. "Until then, he's a 
great kid and a big help. He came just before the outbreak 
last year. His name his Jesse Travis. You'll probably be 
meeting him at dinner. He's living in the boarding house 
too, and seeing one of the dancers at the dance hall." 
Mark paused for a moment before going on. "You remember 
Maggie Masters, the sheriff's daughter?" Steve nodded. 
"She owns the dance hall now. She just bought it from Jake 
Dennis."
	"All grown up now, I take it?" Steve said as he 
cleaned out one ear with the cloth.
	"And then some," Mark said. "Her brother Pete is 
helping out at the general store."
	"What about Kathrine Masters?" Steve asked as he 
moved the soapy rag down to wash his chest and arms.
	"Their mother? She died in the outbreak last year as 
well," Mark replied. "Almost everyone in town lost someone 
to small pox."
	"I suppose I'm lucky I wasn't here," Steve said as 
he lifted one leg out of the water and washed behind the 
knee and worked his way down.
	Mark watched him wash his toes. "Maybe," he said. 
"But I wish you had at least come for a visit when your 
mother died."
	Steve put the leg back into the water and rinsed it 
before lifting the other leg out to wash it. "I almost 
did," he said. "I don't know why I didn't."
	"Well you're here now," Mark said as he watched his 
son rinse the other leg. "That's all that matters."

	Jesse Travis watched as Carol broke the stems off of 
the green beans in a bowl that was sitting on the counter. 
When he thought her attention was averted, he stuck his 
hand in the bowl and started to pull out one of the 
tempting vegetables only to have it smacked by Carol. 
"I've told you about that," she said without looking up.
	Jesse rubbed his hand and a gave Carol a dirty look. 
Footsteps were heard behind them and they turned to see 
Steve, cleaned and shaved and changed for dinner.
	Carol gave him a quick hug and turned to Jesse. 
"This is Dr. Jesse Travis," she introduced as her brother 
took the young doctor's hand and shook it. "Jesse, this is 
my brother Steve."
	Jesse shook Steve's hand strongly. "I'm glad to 
finally meet you," he said. Jesse sneaked his hand back 
and stole one of the stemmed green beans before Carol 
could do anything about it and retreated to the other side 
of the room.
	"Jesse," Carol scolded and turned to Steve. "Would 
you get him out of my hair before he eats _all_ of my 
green beans!"
	Steve chuckled at Jesse's boldness. "Where do you 
want us to go?"
	"I don't care," she replied with a wave of her hand. 
"Go to the bar and get a beer or something. Just get him 
out of here and don't come home drunk!" She eyed Jesse 
with a look that would have killed if looks could kill.
	Jesse popped the bean into his mouth and smoothed 
the jacket to his well tailored suit. He was a well 
dressed young man. That was something Steve was certainly 
forced to admit. With a clap to the younger man's shoulder 
he turned to leave.
	"Let's get out of Carol's hair," he said. "Maybe we 
can find other trouble to get into."
	"Good idea," Jesse said and followed Steve through 
the house and out the front door, stopping only long 
enough to grab his hat from the coat tree.
	Steve put his own hat on his head as the pair wound 
their way through the yard and into the street. "Where we 
headin'?" he asked.
	"Maggie's place," Jesse said with a mile wide grin. 
"Suzie's working tonight."
	"Who is Suzie?"
	"Suzie Hilliard. She came to town with her family 
several years back," Jesse explained. "Her ma and pa died 
in the epidemic last year and she took a job dancing at 
Maggie's."
	"Then she's the girl my father said you were 
seeing," Steve said with understanding.
	"That's her," Jesse said as they stopped in front of 
the bar in question. "You first."
	Steve gave Jesse a slight nod and led him into the 
barroom. Inside was different from what Steve remembered, 
but the place was like the hundred other bars he had been 
in. A large common room had gambling tables situated by 
the bar and there was a stage complete with oil lamps and 
shades at the other end of the room. Red velvet curtains 
decorated the stage and a piano sat nearby, painted a red 
that almost perfectly matched the curtains. Steve followed 
Jesse to the bar and leaned against it.
	"Hey, Doc Travis," the barkeep said. "You want yer 
usual?"
	"Yeah," Jesse said. "Half a glass of beer."
	Some of the men within earshot heard this and began 
snickering. Steve smiled slightly as the bartender filled 
a glass exactly halfway with beer and turned to Steve. 
"Who's yer friend?"
	"He's not my friend," Jesse said. "Yet. He's Doc 
Sloan's son, Steve."
	"So this is the Steve Sloan I've heard so much 
about," came the reply. "Maggie had a bit of hero worship 
for you."
	Steve nodded. "She was about ten when I left. Her 
hobby was gettin' into trouble and havin' me get her out."
	The barkeep chuckled. "Sounds like Maggie, all 
right. She's goin' ta be surprised to see you," he said as 
the piano began to play.
	Jesse poked Steve's shoulder and pointed at the 
stage. Steve turned to see the object of their discussion 
and another woman on stage singing and dancing. Maggie had 
more than grown up. She wore a yellow garment-- dress just 
wasn't the word for it-- that showed off her pair of 
lovely long legs which were encased in a pair of fishnet 
stockings complete with yellow garters. Yellow sequins and 
feathers decorated the outfit and the head piece she wore 
in her golden hair. It was pulled up off her shoulders and 
wound into the headpiece. The outfit was tight, something 
Steve wasn't sure he would stand for if she were his 
daughter. She had grown up into a beautiful woman.
	Jesse interrupted Steve's perusal of Maggie with a 
jab to the ribs. "Pretty ain't she?" he said.
	"Yeah," Steve replied. "Maggie sure has grown up."
	"Maggie?" Jesse said with surprise. "I was talking 
about Suzie."
	Steve looked again at the women on the stage as they 
danced and sang in perfect harmony. The other woman was a 
pretty blonde, younger than Maggie, but no less pretty. 
Her outfit was identical to Maggie's, only the colors were 
in a muted pink.
	The song ended and Jesse left Steve to join the 
woman in pink. She threw her arms around his neck and 
kissed his cheek before the woman in yellow caught Steve's 
eye as she made her way to the bar.
	"Hey, Jake," she said as she came up next to Steve, 
taking Jesse's place at the bar. "Howdy stranger," she 
said to Steve. "What are you...." Steve smiled as she 
stopped. Recognition had set in.
	"Hey, Maggie," he said softly.
	Maggie obviously didn't know what to do. She stood 
looking at him until Jake interrupted with, "Your usual?"
	Maggie looked over at him. "Yes," she said then 
turned back to Steve and shook off the shock. "Steve 
Sloan. When did you finally drag your sorry butt back 
here?" she said with a touch of hostility.
	"Do you have something against me?" Steve asked with 
surprise.
	"You left without telling anyone," she said as Jake 
sat her glass of wine in front of her. "You disappointed 
your mother and upset your father and I hated you for a 
long time." She turned to look him in the eye. "I don't 
know if I can forgive you for not coming back when your 
mother died."
	"I'm sorry if I hurt anyone," Steve apologized.
	"Well, you hurt everyone," she said as she took her 
glass and headed into the back room stopping on the way to 
talk to several patrons. With a glance back at Steve she 
disappeared.
	Steve watched her go as Jesse joined him. "You ready 
to go home for dinner?" Jesse asked him.
	Steve looked at his companion. "You got to talk to 
your girl?"
	"Yeah," Jesse said noticing the look on Steve's 
face. "You all right?"
	Steve nodded and downed the last of his beer. "Let's 
go."

	Steve blew out the lamp next to his bed and lay back 
down, pulling the covers up over his bare chest. Unable to 
sleep, he just looked at the darkness over his head and 
listened to the rain as it fell on the roof. Things had 
definately changed in the eighteen or so years since he 
left.
	No one had changed more than Maggie. He still 
remembered her as a little girl with pigtails down her 
back, following him everywhere as he worked as the town's 
deputy. The dream of a job as sherrif had been why he 
finally left. He left without warning to work at various 
jobs in law enforcement throughout the west. He'd been a 
ranger in Texas, a deputy in California, a judge in 
Wyoming, and a sheriff in Deadwood, South Dakota.
	He had been in Deadwood for only two months when he 
recieved a wire from Maggie telling him that his mother 
had been killed in an accident on her way back from Fort 
Collins where she had visited her sister. Amanda's husband 
had been giving her a ride back when they ran into a 
spring blizzard. The wagon they were riding in slipped on 
some mud and plummeted into a ravine just one mile from 
town. Two years and some months passed before Steve got 
the knerve to finally return home.
	Maggie had begged him to come home in her wire. He 
just didn't want to deal with her.
	His thoughts ran in circles and finally ended on 
Maggie and her bar. She had grown into a magnificent young 
woman that Steve couldn't believe was really that little 
girl in pigtails that stuck her tongue out at him when he 
scolded her for the trouble she got in. He didn't tell her 
father half of the things she did, probably never would. 
He could just imagine her as a teenager.
	His thoughts were interrupted by a pounding on the 
door downstairs. He slipped his shirt and britches on and 
opened his door in time to see his father placing a pair 
of wire rimmed glasses on his nose as he exited his own 
room down the hall.
	"What's going on?" Steve asked.
	"Probably Mrs. Simms' baby coming," Mark replied as 
he headed down the stairs. "Go back to bed."
	Steve started to do what he was told, but seconds 
later his father's voice came up the stairs with an 
urgentness he had never heard before.
	"Steve get down here," Mark yelled.
	Steve pulled his boots on and ran down the stairs to 
find Maggie standing in the sitting room, in her robe and 
slippers soaking wet.
	"What's wrong?" Steve asked.
	"Pa's been shot," Maggie replied calmly.
	"I need you to come along just in case whoever shot 
him is still around," Mark told him.
	"Let me get my gun," Steve said and sprinted back up 
the stairs.
	In his room, Steve buttoned his shirt and pulled his 
six shooters out of the top drawer of his dresser. He 
buckled them around his waist and went back down the 
stairs where he started to pull his overcoat on, thought 
better of it and put it on Maggie instead.
	"I don't...." Maggie began.
	"Don't argue," Steve replied and followed his father 
out the door with his arm wrapped around Maggie.

	Sheriff Masters lay face down on the floor in his 
own sitting room, a bullet through his back. Blood pooled 
around him.
	"How long has it been?" Mark asked.
	Maggie looked up at her mother's old grandfather 
clock. "Twenty minutes," she told the men. "Maybe more."
	Mark leaned over the sheriff and shook his head. 
"I'm sorry, Maggie. I'm afraid we're too late."
	Maggie gasped in shock and her knees began to 
buckle. Steve caught her and led her to a chair where he 
sat her down. "Where's your brother?"
	"He went after him," Maggie replied.
	Steve gently pulled his coat from Maggie's shoulders 
and pulled it on. "Which direction?"
	"I don't know, south I think."
	"Steve, what are you going to do?" Mark asked as he 
headed for the door.
	"I don't want Pete to end up like his father," Steve 
replied as he buttoned up his coat. "I've got to find him 
before he gets himself killed."
	Maggie stood and turned, forcefully grabbing his 
shoulder. "Be careful. Bring him back in one piece." She 
paused. "And while you're at it, bring yourself back in 
one piece, too."
	Steve gently removed her hand from his shoulder and 
kissed it. "Don't worry. I will." Then he was gone.

	The rain almost made it impossible to track the boy 
and the man he was chasing, but Steve did it. He had 
learned how to track from Wild Bill Hicock himself. Of 
course, that had been a long time before he had been shot 
in Deadwood while playing a hand of poker. Steve had 
helped track the man that time, only to see him hung 
before the judge could arrive for his trial. This mission 
seemed a bit more important.
	He hadn't gone far before he found the boy laying 
face down in a puddle, a hole in his shoulder. He picked 
him up and slung him over his shoulder before walking back 
the way he had come.
	The Masters house had a light on, as if the house 
were waiting for his return along with the occupants. 
Amanda Livingstone's hearse stood in front of the house 
and Steve passed it on his way in.
	"Dad," he cried as he pounded on the door with his 
foot. "I'm back!"
	The door flew open and his father stood in the 
doorway. "Is he OK?" he asked as he helped Steve inside.
	"He's alive," Steve told him. "He's been shot, but I 
don't know how bad it is."
	"Let's get him to his room," Mark ordered and led 
Steve up the stairs to Pete's room.
	Steve lay the boy on the bed and stood back so his 
father could examine him. Both Steve and the boy were 
covered in mud from head to toe, but Mark ignored their 
state to deal with Pete's wounds. "Go get Dr. Travis from 
downstairs," Mark ordered.
	Steve ran downstairs to where the young doctor was 
conferring with Amanda. "Jesse, dad needs your assistance 
upstairs," Steve told him. "Second door on the left."
	Jesse sprinted up the stairs two at a time as Steve 
joined Amanda and Maggie, who were waiting. Sheriff 
Masters had been wrapped in a sheet and put on a stretcher 
and was laying on the floor waiting for someone to take 
him out to Amanda's hearse. Maggie sat in the same chair 
that Steve had left her in with a look of shock on her 
face.
	He knelt down by her and touched her cheek. She 
looked up at him, but didn't say a word at first. Her face 
had completely drained of color and she looked like she 
would be viciously ill.
	"Is he going to be OK?" Her lips moved and sound 
came out, but it seemed as if someone else were talking.
	"If dad has anything to say about it, he'll be 
fine," Steve replied.
	Amanda joined him. "I hate to interrupt, but the 
rain is letting up and I need your help. I want to get the 
sheriff's body to the funeral home. I'd like to get it 
prepared for burial tomorrow." She put a hand on Maggie's 
shoulder. "Unless you feel otherwise."
	Maggie nodded her head. "I'll be OK," she said.
	Steve stood and walked to the other end of the 
stretcher and picked it up by the handles sticking out at 
the end. Amanda did the same at the other end and 
carefully turned around. They went out the door and down 
the walk to where the hearse waited, the horses hitched to 
it prancing nervously. Amanda put her end in and helped 
Steve slide the body into the back of the wagon before 
closing the etched glass door.
	"Thanks for your help," Amanda said with a look 
around. The sun was beginning to peek above the horizon 
and the sky was turning from black to blue. "Soon, 
everyone will wake up and find that the town doesn't have 
a sheriff anymore."
	"I'm surprised the shot didn't wake anyone else," 
Steve said.
	"Maggie said that she thought it was lightning at 
first," Amanda explained. "Probably what anyone else who 
heard it thought."
	Steve nodded and escorted Amanda around the hearse 
to where he helped her into the driver's seat. "Good 
morning, Amanda," he said.
	"It's never a good morning when my services are 
required," Amanda said before she drove away.

	Steve sat across the room watching Maggie. She 
didn't move from her chair, just sat staring at the blood 
stain on her sitting room rug. Steve was waiting to find 
out if Pete would be all right, and hoping that Maggie was 
all right. They had been waiting for almost an hour when 
the light from the sunrise came through the windows and 
Mark came down the stairs.
	He knelt down by Maggie and looked into her pale 
face. "He'll be fine," Mark told her.
	It was then that Maggie finally broke down crying. 
Mark held her for a long time as Steve watched helplessly 
from the other side of the room. Finally, Mark helped her 
stand and gestured to Steve. "Take her to the house and 
put her in Carol's old room," he ordered.
	Steve took her by the arm then, remembering her robe 
and slippers, pulled his coat off and put it on her, 
buttoning it up the front. She walked slowly down the 
street, leaning heavily on him as they made their way past 
the people who were just learning of her father's death. 
Sad faces looked in her direction, but the two simply 
ignored them.
	Carol was waiting for them on the front porch when 
they got there. "Amanda stopped by the boarding house on 
her way to the funeral home and told me what happened." 
Steve nodded as he led Maggie up the front stairs. "I had 
Dave Miller go for Reverend Briggs." This time Maggie 
nodded. Carol put her hand on Maggie's shoulder. "Are you 
OK?" Maggie shook her head as Carol took her hand and led 
her into the house.
	Inside, Carol and Steve helped Maggie out of his 
coat and Steve hung it on the hook near the door. "Good 
grief, Steve!" Carol exclaimed. "She's soaked clean 
through!" She rubbed Maggie's arms a bit. "Let's get you 
upstairs and into something dry." She started up the 
stairs with Steve close on her heels. "Steve, get me one 
of your old shirts. It'll be too big on her, but at least 
it's dry."
	Steve went into his room on one side of the hallway 
while Carol led Maggie into the room straight across from 
him. Steve got the shirt and was back across the hall 
before Carol could even get Maggie out of her robe. He 
handed the shirt to Carol and went back into the hall 
where he waited for his sister to come back out.
	"She's exhausted," Carol said and noticed her 
brother's appearance. "You don't look to energetic 
yourself. Get changed and get some sleep. I'll get some 
breakfast fixed and have it waiting for you when you wake 
up."
	Steve was hardly in any state to argue, so he opened 
his door and went inside. He peeled off his boots and 
shirt before he poured some water from the pitcher on the 
dresser into its bowl and set it on the floor. He washed 
himself a bit before taking his pants off and falling into 
bed. He wrapped himself in the old quilt his mother had 
made and drifted off to sleep.
	When he woke, he could smell bacon and coffee 
drifting up from the kitchen. The old clock on the wall 
told him that an hour had passed. He hadn't gotten a wink 
of sleep all night, but now he had other problems. His 
stomach was growling like a wolf, demanding sustenance.
	Steve groaned and unwrapped himself from the blanket 
before standing and scratching his head. He padded across 
the room in his bare feet and pulled open his closet door. 
The clothes he had brought with him were in no condition 
to be worn. Both sets were filthy from the trip here and 
his adventure in the wee hours this morning. He hoped the 
clothes hanging in the closet still fit. Fortunately, they 
did and he dressed.
	Carol sat across the table from Jesse when Steve 
came down to the dining room. Carol smiled slightly and 
got up to fix him a plate of food and a cup of coffee. He 
gulped down the coffee first, much to his sister's 
chagrin.
	"Since when do you like your coffee black," she 
said.
	"Since Wild Bill was shot in Deadwood and I was up 
all night tracking his killer," Steve replied as he handed 
the cup to her for a refill.
	He ate in silence as Jesse told him about Pete's 
condition and the reactions of the town. "Reverend Briggs 
said he'd be here later today to check up on Maggie," 
Jesse told him. "He's taking care of funeral arrangements 
and he's going to make sure what he plans is OK with her."
	Steve nodded. "Is Pete going to  be able to attend 
the service?"
	"Don't have a clue," Jesse stated.
	"I hope he can," said a voice from behind him.
	Jesse and Steve looked up. Maggie stood in the 
doorway in Steve's shirt. "I couldn't find my robe," 
Maggie explained.
	"Carol's washing it," Steve said as he stood.
	Maggie nodded. The shirt came to just above her 
knees, but still covered more than the outfit she had been 
wearing the night before at the dance hall. That seemed 
like an eternity ago.
	He stuck his head into the kitchen and called to 
Carol. "She's awake," he told her.
	Carol handed him a cup of coffee and passed him as 
she went into the dining room. Steve turned to watch her 
lead Maggie out of the room before sticking her head back 
in. "Would one of you put the plate on the back of the 
stove on a tray with some coffee and bring it up while I 
run back to her place to get her some fresh clothes?"
	Steve gulped down the coffee in the cup. "I'll do 
it," he said.
	Later, he sat with Maggie as she was curled up in 
the old bed under the covers eating her breakfast. He 
stood by her bed and smoothed her hair before he turned 
and walked down the stairs and out of the house.

	Steve watched Maggie as she watched the grave digger 
pile the last of the dirt high on her father's grave and 
pat it down with the shovel. The man shouldered the shovel 
and walked to the fence that surrounded the little 
graveyard.
	Maggie gripped her brother's hand as he sat next to 
her in a wheelchair that Mark had found in his attic. 
Maggie was dressed conservatively, in black, and more like 
Steve had expected her to dress in the first place.
	Half the town had shown up for Sheriff Masters' 
funeral this morning. Mark stood at Steve's side while 
young Dr. Travis stood across the grave from them next to 
Suzie Hilliard who in turn stood next to her friend 
Maggie. Jake the bartender from Maggie's bar stood on 
Pete's other side. Reverend Briggs stood at the foot of 
the grave and read from the black bible he held in his 
hands.
	Everyone bowed their heads for a prayer and the 
service was over. The congregation headed over to the cafe 
for a dinner that the town's mayor, Lyle Maddock, had 
donated free of charge. Steve started to head in that 
direction as well, but Mark stopped him for a minute.
	"I need to talk to you, son," he said. He gestured 
in a different direction and led his son that way.
	Steve nodded and followed his father in the intended 
direction. He was dressed in his old church clothes, 
surprised that they still fit. He shoved his hands into 
the pockets of the pants that Carol had freshly pressed 
before the funeral and followed his father out of ear shot 
of the rest of the town. "What's up, dad?" he asked.
	"Lyle asked me to ask you something," Mark said. "I 
told him I didn't know if you'd give him the answer he 
wants, but I told him I'd ask you." Mark stopped walking 
to pull something out of his pocket. He held up the 
sheriff's star that had belonged to Sheriff Masters since 
Steve had known him. "Lyle wants you to take over Masters' 
job."
	Steve looked at the star as light from the sun 
reflected off the metal's surface. "Dad, that's not what I 
came back for," Steve said. "I'm retired as a lawman."
	Mark sighed. "Steve, this town has no lawman. 
Masters hasn't had a deputy since Duck Phillips died in 
the epidemic last year." Mark shifted on his feet. 
"Whoever shot Masters knows that, and they might return to 
cause trouble."
	Steve shook his head and started to walk away before 
turning back to his father. "I've seen more than my share 
of crime," he said. "I don't want to go there anymore."
	"I understand, son," Mark said. "But will the town? 
Will Maggie?"
	Mark had hit a sore spot there. He knew that Maggie 
had always been special to him, even when she was a 
ten-year-old in pigtails.
	"Aw, dad," Steve said. "You always knew just what 
strings to pull."
	Mark smiled and stepped forward to pin the star to 
his son's chest. "I got that from your mother. She was the 
real expert at pulling strings."
	"And teeth," Steve commented as he clapped his 
father on the back and they headed for the cafe.

	John Masters had very little trouble finding his way 
back into town two days after his midnight fight with his 
brother. 
	Maggie was at the dance hall getting ready for the 
night and Pete was staying at the doctor's house until he 
could take care of himself. Meanwhile, the town was 
without a sheriff and John hoped to ingratiate the people 
of the town and get them to make him the new sheriff. He 
had always been jealous of his older brother's leadership 
qualities. Now he would steal those qualities and sucker 
the town into believing he was a great guy. The only 
trouble was, he didn't know that Steve Sloan was who the 
town had made sheriff.

	"This is not a whorehouse and my girls are not 
whores," Maggie was yelling at one of her patrons when 
John entered the dance hall. "If that's the kind of 
service you want, go down the street. There's a very nice 
whorehouse across town!" She paused to take a breath 
before she continued. "Now get out and don't come back!"
	"Problem, Maggie?" John asked as the man who she had 
been yelling at exited the barroom past him.
	"No, I..." Maggie began before she realized who it 
was. "Uncle John?"
	John smiled at his niece. "Yep. What's it been? Ten 
years?"
	"At least," she said with a smile as she approached 
to hug him.
	"You have grown up," John said with an appreciative 
eye to her attire.
	Maggie wore a tight, long gown of lavender satin. It 
was sleeveless and shoulderless with lavender chiffon 
around her shoulders. It hung clear down past her ankles 
to her toes and was decorated with sequins. The dress had 
no headpiece, but she had her hair done and a bright 
lavender feather stuck in it.
	"That I have," Maggie replied. "Come sit down. Tell 
me why you left so suddenly last time you were here." She 
dragged him across the room, past Suzie, and to a table 
near the stage and away from the other patrons.
	Suzie followed them to the table to ask, "You want 
me to bring you anything, Maggie?"
	"Sure," Maggie replied. "Bring a couple of glasses 
and a bottle of whiskey."
	Suzie scuttled off to comply and Maggie looked back 
at her uncle. "So, why did you leave without saying 
good-by?"
	"Your father asked me to leave," John told her. "By 
the way, how is he?"
	Maggie's face fell and she leaned back in her chair. 
"He's dead," she said. "He was shot in the back two days 
ago.'
	John's face fell. "I hadn't heard," he said. "How're 
you doin'?"
	"I'm fine," Maggie replied. "Pete was shot too. He 
chased after whoever did it, but he says he didn't see who 
it was."
	"Pete going to be OK?"
	"Doc Sloan says he will," Maggie told him as Suzie 
put the whiskey and glasses on the table then left.
	Maggie was quiet for awhile, watching her uncle 
watching her, then filled the glasses and handed one to 
him. "It's good to see you again," she said as she raised 
her glass in a toast.
	John clinked his against hers and drank the warm 
liquid down. Putting the glass down on the table, he 
smiled a smile which suddenly gave Maggie chills.

	Sheriff Steve Sloan walked through town on his way 
to the jail house next door to the house of the former 
sheriff. As he went, people smiled and nodded, said a 
howdy or two, and went along their way. Steve would tip 
his hat for the women, most of whom looked very 
appreciatively at him, for he was still a handsome man.
	The jail was old and faded. It had been one of the 
first buildings built in Serenity, long before his father 
had come to the town. Built with only a wooden floor and 
lead bars to discourage break outs, Steve had spent a lot 
of time there when he was in his twenties. Those memories 
were good. He had never thought he would set foot in the 
tiny building again, much less, be the town sheriff.
	Here he was, standing on the threshold of the 
building looking into the main office and one of the 
building's three rooms. The office was separated from the 
other two rooms by bars instead of walls, which were 
across the room. There was a hook on one side of the door 
for his coat, which Steve removed and hung before closing 
the door. In on corner was a gun case stocked with rifles 
and six shooters. These Steve could see between the slats. 
On the other side of the room in front of the hook which 
held the keys to the gun case and cells was the desk. A 
desk in which a visitor sat at.
	John Masters sat in the desk's chair leaning back 
with his feet propped up on the desk. He was smoking a 
cigar and flicking the ashes into the spittoon next to him 
on the floor.
	"Well, well, well," John said. "Former deputy Steve 
Sloan finds his way into the desk he's been after for so 
long." He tossed the stub of his cigar into the spittoon 
where it hissed quietly on the liquid in the bottom of the 
container.
	"I was never after Masters' job," Steve said. "If I 
was, I never would have left."
	John rubbed the stubble that was about to become 
beard on his chin. "Well, whatever you say," he said. 
"You've got my brother's job, now."
	"What do you want?" Steve said.
	John took his feet off the desk and stood. "Nothing. 
Just lookin' around my brother's old office." He paused. 
"I would have thought that with my brother's death, the 
town would be without a lawman. You came around just at 
the right time." He paused again, a bit longer this time. 
"Kind of makes one wonder, don't it?"
	Steve decided not to dignify that with a remark. 
There was something he had never liked about this Masters 
brother. Something about him that made Steve's stomach 
turn.
	John smiled slyly and tipped his hat before brushing 
past Steve and walking down the street towards Maggie's 
place.

	Maggie was dressed in a red velvet dress with an off 
the shoulder collar that was trimmed in red satin. Her 
hair was down, but had a red feather and headpiece in it. 
Suzie was dressed in an identical dress, but a beautiful 
yellow.
	The lights were lit and the room was full as Maggie 
and Suzie sang in perfect harmony. Steve leaned on the bar 
with one eye on the girls, and the other eye on John 
Masters, who sat at a table right up next to the stage. 
Jesse stood next to him with both eyes on the lovely Suzie 
Hilliard.
	The song finished with notes so pure that many of 
the men in the bar wiped a tear from their eye, Jesse 
included. Maggie and Suzie smiled and bowed before 
stepping off the stage. Suzie came right over to join 
Steve and Jesse at the bar before she uttered a greeting 
to Steve and Jesse swept her away. Steve nodded with one 
eye on Maggie as she made her way to the bar. She stopped 
at a few tables, but to Steve's surprise and relief, 
completely ignored her uncle.
	Jake had her wine waiting when she approached the 
bar to stand next to Steve. Steve turned around to face 
the bar. "How's Pete?" Steve asked her before she could 
get away.
	Maggie looked him in the eye and said a stiff, 
"Fine," before retreating to her office and the seclusion 
that she would find there.
	"Nothing like the old cold shoulder," Jake 
commented.
	"Yeah," Steve said and he took a drink of his beer. 
"She'll come around."
	"I wouldn't count on it," Jake said with a gesture 
over Steve's shoulder.
	Steve looked to see John go back into the office. He 
ground his teeth for a minute before downing the remainder 
of his beer and going to stand near the door to Maggie's 
office. "Just in case she needs me," he told himself.
	John wasn't in the room long. Maggie's face was red 
when she scooted him out. "I want you out of my father's 
house tonight," she said. "Go stay at the whorehouse if 
you want to act like that."
	John grinned evilly and tipped his hat at her. With 
a glance at Steve, he left the bar. Maggie turned and 
started to go back into the office when she spotted Steve 
standing next to the door. She glared at him for a minute 
before standing toe to toe with him.
	"I know what you're doing here," she said. "I can 
take care of myself. I have since you left."
	She went into her office and tried to slam the door, 
but Steve had stuck his toe in it. She growled at him as 
he came into the office. "Don't think that you have to 
keep an eye on me just because you were a friend of my 
pa's."
	"I'm not," Steve protested. "I just want to know 
what he did that's got you so all fired mad."
	Maggie looked at him them took a deep breath. "He 
is... I don't know, different from the way I remember 
him."
	Steve came into the room and closed the door behind 
him. "That happens," he told her. "You're different from 
the way I remember you."
	"I was ten," Maggie said with the beginnings of a 
smile on her face. "Ten-year-olds become 
twenty-eight-year-olds."
	"Not as quickly as you seem to have."
	Maggie shook her head. "You still see me as a 
ten-year-old, don't you?"
	Steve took a very deep breath. "I can honestly say 
that I don't see you as the kid you were when I left. 
You've dealt with the past few days as an adult would."
	"Does that mean I can cry now?"
	Steve looked at her for a minute before taking her 
in his arms in a hug. She didn't cry, just stood there 
being a ten-year-old again.
	She would have stayed ten a bit longer if someone 
hadn't pounded on the door about then.
	She stepped back, took a breath and said loudly, 
"Come in."
	Suzie and Jesse came in a bit excitedly. "Maggie!" 
Suzie exclaimed breathlessly.
	"Calm down, Suzie," Maggie said as she crossed to 
the younger woman's side. "What's wrong?"
	"Nothing," Suzie replied. "Jesse asked me to marry 
him and I said yes!"
	Maggie smiled and hugged her friend while Steve 
slapped the young doctor on the shoulder. 
"Congratulations," Maggie said to them both.

	John lay back on the bed wrapped in a blanket which 
a naked blonde was also wrapped up in. He had taken 
Maggie's advice on going to the whorehouse, but he still 
thought Maggie was the prettiest girl in town. 
Unfortunately, she hadn't seemed to like it when he had 
told her so.
	"Maybe it was the way I said it," he murmured and 
yawned.
	He didn't think he deserved the slap she had given 
him either. Luckily, the rest of the town seemed to like 
him.

	They still had the sunday picnics out beyond the 
church that Steve remembered from his childhood. A big 
table was laid out with food and people sat on table 
cloths and blankets that they had brought from home. 
Children played tag between the picnic areas like Steve 
and Carol used to when they were children. Now, the people 
who he had played those games with were grown up and had 
children of their own.
	Mark had asked Pete and Maggie to join them on their 
patch of grass. It had grown with the addition of Jesse 
and Amanda and CJ and today included for the first time 
Suzie Hilliard. Jesse and Suzie looked dreamily into each 
other's eyes, the world around them having completely 
disappeared.
	Maggie stood next to her brother's wheelchair in her 
Sunday best, blue calico sprinkle with pink flowers and a 
hat that was as stylish as he had seen on the other women 
in town. Today, she actually looked respectable.
	Steve was in his Sunday finest as well, a suit that 
he had worn a long time ago which still fit. 
	Maggie came up to him with a smile and polished the 
star he wore on the right lapel of the jacket. "You clean 
up good," was all she said to him.
	Steve smiled at her and glanced down at the star. It 
was pinned on upside down. Steve rolled his eyes. He had 
never made such a mistake before. Maggie shook her head 
and removed the star, turned it over and reattached it to 
the jacket lapel.
	"Much better," she said with a smile.

	John Masters walked through the crowd with a fake 
smile pasted on his face. He saw Steve kiss a blonde 
haired woman who had a passing resemblance to Mark and 
watched as she came toward the table where he stood. When 
she was close enough for him to see the color of her eyes, 
he took of his hat and introduced himself.
	"Howdy, ma'am," he said. "I'm John Masters."
	Carol smiled. "Sheriff Masters brother. I'm Carol 
Hilton, Doctor Sloan's daughter."
	"That would make you Sheriff Sloan's sister, now 
wouldn't it?" he asked with a mile wide grin.
	"That it would," Carol replied. "Would you like to 
join our group?"
	John shook his head. "I'm 'fraid not. Maggie's a bit 
miffed at me."
	"Why in the world for?"
	"Cause I told her she wasn't the prettiest girl in 
town," he said. "I didn't know her name until today, but I 
believe her name is Carol Hilton."
	"Not true," Carol said. "But certainly very nice of 
you to say." She gestured back to her family where Maggie 
was effectively keeping Steve's attention. "I've got to 
get back."
	She set her basket on the table and almost got away 
before John grabbed her hand. "Might I invite you to 
dinner?"
	Carol smiled again, pleased with the attention. "I 
would be glad to join you for dinner. I'm at the boarding 
house."
	He kissed the hand in a gesture of chivalry before 
releasing it. Carol blushed and went back to her family, 
tossing glances his way every so often for the rest of the 
day.

	Steve stretched and began the process of undressing 
for bed. He had removed his shirt and was getting ready to 
pull off his boots when he glance outside disturbed him 
enough to make him take a second look.
	Carol was walking in her Sunday best on a tuesday on 
the arm of a man. What disturbed him was the man who's arm 
she was on.
	Steve watched as his sister turned to face John 
Masters at the gate to the boarding house next door. She 
smiled up at John as if she were telling him that she had 
had a wonderful time, and doing it as much with her eyes 
as with her mouth. John leaned down and kissed her cheek 
before opening the gate and watching as she went into the 
house.
	John turned to walk away, but stopped suddenly and 
looked straight up at Steve as he stood looking out the 
window. He gave Steve a snide smile before walking off 
down the street.
	Steve had his shirt back on and tucked in to his 
britches in record time. He went down the stairs and out 
the back door, leaped over the back yard fence into 
Carol's yard and was in her back door lickety split. He 
called her name a couple of times before she answered him 
from the only bedroom down stairs.
	"Just a minute," she called. A few minutes later, 
she came out of her bedroom to face Steve in the kitchen.
	"What's wrong?"
	"You just came home with John Masters," Steve 
stated. "What were you doing with him?"
	"We just had dinner and took a nice walk," Carol 
told him. "What's the big deal?"
	"I don't trust him," Steve told her.
	"What's to trust?" Carol asked. "I'm the one who had 
dinner with him."
	"Don't see him again," Steve ordered then his face 
softened. "Please."
	Carol rolled her eyes at him. "Steve, I can handle 
myself." She paused. "You trusted Sheriff Masters with 
your life. Why won't you trust his brother."
	"Because he never did," Steve said.
	"He's been nothing but nice to me," Carol said. "I 
like him."
	Steve could see that he was losing this fight, so he 
let it go and went back out of the house the way he had 
come. He didn't go home though.
	He walked down the empty street towards the hotel. 
John sat on the front porch smoking a cigar as if he had 
been expecting Steve to appear. "Something I can do for 
you?" he asked.
	Steve grabbed him by his shirt front. "If you hurt 
my sister whether it's physically or emotionally, I will 
make you pay for it."
	"Sure you will," John said snidely. "And break your 
sister's heart."
	Steve was mad enough to punch the man out now, but 
instead, he released him with a shove and stalked off.
	"Too bad they made a coward into the town sheriff," 
John called after him.
	Steve stopped for a second and was tempted to turn 
around and deck him anyway. He decided against it and 
stalked off.

	Steve came into Maggie's place the next morning 
looking like hell.
	"You look like hell," Maggie told him as she stood 
from the table where she was doing her books as she did 
every Wednesday morning.
	Steve had taken her father's place taking the money 
to the bank in the mornings. On Wednesday, Maggie did the 
books then accompanied him to compare her figures with the 
bank's. She was never wrong with her figures, at least 
that was what the bank's owner, James Simms, had told him.
	"I feel like hell," Steve returned. "Carol had 
dinner with your uncle last night."
	Maggie looked disgusted. "After he spent most of the 
afternoon at the brothel," she commented.
	"I didn't know that," Steve said.
	"You'd better tell her," Maggie said.
	"She wouldn't believe me," Steve replied. "She'd 
just think I was trying to run her life like she did when 
she was a teenager."
	Maggie sighed. "I could tell her."
	Steve shook his head. "It would probably be better 
if she found out who he really is on her own."
	"She may get hurt."
	"If he hurts her, I'll kill him," Steve growled.
	Maggie handed him the bag with the money in it and 
tucked her book under one arm. Before she could brush past 
him to leave, Pete came in, his right arm in a sling. 
"Pete, you're supposed to be in bed."
	"I'm tired of being in bed," Pete protested. "I need 
to get out for awhile."
	Maggie shook her head. "OK, little brother. You can 
come with us to the bank, but don't get too excited or 
anything."
	Pete stood straight and saluted his sister with his 
good arm. "Whatever you say dear," he said with a touch of 
sarcasm.
	The walk to the bank was, as always, uneventful. 
Steve stood behind the counter waiting to walk Pete and 
Maggie back to the dance hall as Maggie and Mr. Simms went 
over the books. Second later, Steve hit the floor as shot 
rang out from the guns held by the masked desperadoes 
standing in the door. He pulled his gun from its holster 
and peeked around the counter to see two rifle men 
standing with their guns trained on poor Mr. Simms.
	"Open the safe," one demanded through the red 
handkerchief he had covering his mouth and nose.
	Mr. Simms shakily went over to the safe and twisted 
the combination in. Maggie glanced down at Steve with her 
hands up in the air, and he shook his head. She looked 
back up at the gunman and waited.
	Steve waited as well. He waited for them to get 
their weapons off Mr. Simms and the other patrons of the 
bank. Simms opened the safe and the man who had been 
holding his gun on him balanced it on his hip with one 
hand as he pulled the money out of the safe and piled it 
into the bag that Maggie had brought her money in. The 
other's attention was averted and he pointed his gun at 
the ceiling. Steve took aim and shot the gun out of the 
hands of the man at the safe. The other man took aim at 
Steve with his rifle, but didn't shoot. Steve's aim had 
been perfect and the man dropped to the floor with a 
bullet hole in his head.
	The man at the safe decided not to take any chances 
and ran out the door with what money he had. He climbed on 
his horse and held on with his injured hand as he pulled 
out a six shooter with the other hand. Steve started out 
the door behind him, but ducked back down behind the 
counter when a couple of wild shots came his way.
	When he heard the man gallop off, he came back up 
and ran out the door to watch the would-be bank robber 
gallop off.
	Maggie and Pete came out of the bank behind him and 
watched with him as the man rode off. Maggie looked at 
Steve and noticed the blood coming from his arm.
	"Steve you're bleeding!" she exclaimed.
	Steve looked down at the blood soaked sleeve. "I 
can't feel it. I think it's only a graze."
	Maggie ignored him and wrapped her fingers around 
his upper arm and applied pressure. Pete watched for a 
minute before he spoke.
	"Maybe I _should_ have stood in bed," he commented.

	Mark Sloan tied the bandage in a knot and handed his 
son a fresh shirt that Maggie had brought down from his 
room. "You going after him?" Mark asked.
	"I would already be after him if Maggie hadn't 
insisted I get fixed up," Steve replied as he carefully 
slid the shirt over his arm.
	"Your horse is waiting," Mark said. "Maggie had the 
blacksmith saddle him while I was patching you up. I would 
have taken you as much time to saddle him up as it took me 
to fix you up, anyhow."
 	"Good point," Steve said as he buttoned the shirt up 
and walked out of his father's exam room. He made it 
outside just in time to see John Masters walk up with a 
bundle on his horse's back.
	"You don't have to go after the other bandit," he 
said and tossed Steve the bag from the robbery. Steve 
caught it with just a bit of pain which John seemed to 
enjoy creating. "I got him already."
	"Thanks for your help," Steve said diplomatically as 
Amanda came down the steps of the boarding house to take 
charge of the horse with the bundle. He still didn't trust 
the man as far as he could throw him, but tipped his hat 
at him and headed back to the bank with the money.

	"Every penny that was taken is here," Mr. Simms 
said.
	Maggie nodded. "We counted three times."
	Steve nodded and went past the counter, past the 
pool of blood which still stained the floor and out the 
door. Maggie was calling after him, but Steve was mad 
enough to spit nails, and he knew that Maggie would just 
try to calm him down, so he headed for the jail without 
stopping.
	"Steven Sloan!" Maggie yelled with a demanding voice 
as she followed him. "Stop this foolishness!"
	"Not until I get back to the jail house where I can 
throw something!" Steve yelled back.
	Maggie followed him all the way back to the jail 
where he stomped in and slammed the door behind him. He 
picked up the spittoon and it sailed across the room, 
hitting the opposite wall.
	"Steve, knock it off," Maggie demanded. "I'm just as 
angry as you are."
	"I doubt it," Steve said as he stood in the middle 
of the room fuming.
	Maggie decided to show him just how angry she was by 
picking up the desk chair and tossing it at the same wall 
the dented spittoon now sat at the base of. Steve ducked 
as it splintered into a million pieces, then stood just 
looking at the mess she had made in shock.
	"See how mad I am?!" she yelled at him.
	Steve was quiet for a minute before turning and with 
a straight face told her, "You'll have to pay for that."
	Maggie looked at him incredulously for a minute 
before she broke down into laughter. Steve joined her for 
a minute before shaking his head. "I'd ask you to sit, but 
you just broke the only chair in the place."
	Maggie giggled at that. "I thought I was supposed to 
calm you down."
	Steve shook his head and slid into a seat on the 
desk. He took a deep breath. "Lyle Maddock stopped me on 
the way to the bank with the money that John Masters 
recovered."
	Maggie took a seat on the desk next to him. "What 
did he want?"
	"He wants me to make your uncle my deputy."
	Maggie wrinkled her nose at him. "Isn't that a bit 
like putting the cat in charge of the canary?"
	Steve nodded. "I don't trust the man and told 
Maddock as much."
	"What did he say?"
	"'What's not to trust?'" Steve told her.
	"He's my uncle ," Maggie said. "And I don't trust 
him." She pause for a second before continuing. "So what 
are you going to do?"
	"Tell Mayor Maddock that I don't trust the man and I 
would rather not give him the job," Steve said.
	Maggie patted his knee as she stood. "Well, good 
luck. You're gonna need it."

	Two weeks passed, and it was time for the town's 
Fourth of July celebration. Steve was not looking forward 
to it. He had always hated the celebration when he was a 
kid. Even the fireworks were not fun for him.
	This year, there would be a huge town picnic and a 
dance before the fireworks started. The whole thing was 
his sister's idea. "To help the town get reaquainted with 
you," she said.
	He stood in front of the small square mirror that he 
shaved in most mornings trying to get his tie just right 
when his father came in and helped. "You nervous?" he 
asked.
	Steve grumped. "No. Do I have to do this?"
	"Yes, you do," Mark replied. "Carol worked very hard 
setting this event up. The least you can do is show up."
	"Is she coming with _Deputy_ Masters?" Steve asked.
	"I think so," Mark replied. He finished with Steve's 
tie and helped him into the jacket of the suit. Carol had 
insisted that he have a new suit for the celebration, 
church, and Jesse and Suzie's upcoming wedding. He looked 
pretty good in it, too.
	Steve slipped the jacket over his arms and 
straightened it. He turned to his father and said, "How do 
I look?"
	"Handsome," Mark said. "I know you don't like John, 
but your sister does, and so does half of the rest of the 
town."
	"I told Lyle I didn't want him as my deputy," Steve 
said as he buckled his gun belt around his waist. "Lyle 
didn't listen."
	"Forgot something," Mark said as he picked it up 
from the dresser. Pinning the shiny silver star to Steve's 
chest he said, "Just remember who the sheriff in this town 
is, and make sure he remembers it too. Then don't worry 
about the rest."
	Steve nodded. "I'll remember."
	"Maggie's waiting downstairs for you," Mark said. "I 
think she want's you to take her to the dance, but she 
won't come right out and say it."
	Steve looked back in the mirror and placed the new 
hat on his head. Maggie. He hated himself for not coming 
back when his mother had died every time he looked at her.
	"Sharp," Mark said. "But not as sharp as I am."
	Steve looked at his father with a mile wide grin. 
Mark was dressed in a similar suit to Steve's, but it was 
a navy blue instead of black. His hair was combed 
perfectly except for the one group in the back that had 
never laid down no matter how much grease Mark put on it.
	"Like father like son," came a voice from the 
doorway.
	Both men turned to see Maggie standing by the door 
in her new dress. It was made of plain light blue fabric 
and trimmed with blue satin and white lace. The shoulder 
came just slightly down past her shoulder and showed her 
graceful neck off. Her hair was pulled back, but not up 
and clipped in a blue barrette, the curls spilling out of 
the decoration and down her smooth shoulders. In her hands 
she held a straw bonnet shaped like a scoop which was 
trimmed with ribbon the same color as her dress.
	She smile at the two speechless gentlemen and took 
Mark's arm. "Come on," she told them. "We'll be late."
	Mark allowed himself to be led from the room and 
down the stairs. Steve shook his head as if to clear his 
mind and followed.

	A short platform had been built near the church and 
was decorated with lights and colors. At one end of the 
platform, a raised stage would hold a band when the dance 
began later in the evening.
	Maggie joined the crowds of people with the two 
Sloan men, one on each arm. Steve could hear people 
whispering that the were the most handsome threesome in 
town. Maggie had put her hat on and she looked so much 
like an angel that no one would have guessed that she 
owned the town dance hall and bar. No one would have 
guessed she had just lost her father a few short weeks 
before either.
	They stopped to talk to several people as they wound 
their way through the crowd to where the tables were laid 
with food. Steve looked over and saw John and Carol 
standing near one of the tables. John spied them and 
turned to kiss Carol on the lips. Carol smile up at him as 
he looked into her eyes with a fake sincerity that Steve 
could see, even if his siter couldn't.
	He started forward toward them, but was stopped by 
the hand of the young woman beside him. "Let it go, 
Steve," Maggie said. "He's just trying to rile you."
	Steve lokked at Maggie, glanced up at his father 
them back to Maggie. "Well, it's working," he said.
	Mark touched Steve's shoulder. "She'll be all 
right."
	Steve looked back up at John and his sister. Carol 
was giggling. GIGGLING! Steve wanted to turn away, but 
couldn't, so Maggie planted a gentle kiss on his lips. She 
had stolen his attention, as well as the attention of 
everyone around them.
	"Let it go, Steve," She said quietly.
	Steve took a deep breath and nodded before turning 
away to talk to James Simms and his wife who were proudly 
showing off their two week old baby.

	Steve was laughing at his father as he danced a 
pretty hectic square dance with Amanda. Mark looked as if 
he might keel over and fall asleep right where he stood, 
but Amanda took his arm and kept him going until the music 
ended.
	"What are you trying to do?" Mark asked her as they 
rejoined Jesse, Suzie, Maggie and Steve. "Kill me?"
	"Admit it dad," Steve said. "You're having a ball."
	"That I am," Mark replied with a grin.
	The music started up again, this time with a soft 
waltz. Mark leaned against the railing which went almost 
all the way around the dance floor. "You go ahead," he 
said. "I'm gonna take a nap."
	Jesse and Suzie had already begun to waltz to the 
music, so Maggie grabbed Steve's arm and pulled him onto 
the dance floor.
	He put one hand on Maggie's waist and the other in 
her hand while her hand rested on his shoulder. She pulled 
him a bit closer than he was comfortable with and they 
waltzed around the floor. They got lost in the music as 
they twirled around the floor, not noticing that everyone 
who wasn't dancing had their eyes on the dance hall girl 
and the sheriff.
	As the song ended and the spell broke, Maggie looked 
over Steve's shoulder to see John drag Carol rather 
forcefully away from the crowd. Maggie decided to follow 
them without telling Steve what she had seen, just in case 
it wasn't what she had thought it was.
	"Excuse me, Steve," she said. "I'll be right back."
	Maggie grabbed Suzie's arm as she passed, said 
excuse me she needed her friend to Jesse and pulled her 
out of earshot from Jesse. "Suzie, I'm going to follow my 
uncle for a minute," she told the girl. "If I don't come 
back in time to alliviate worry tell Steve which direction 
I've gone."
	Suzie nodded and watched as Maggie walked away in 
the direction she had seen John and Carol walk in. Several 
feet away from the lights and noise of the dance in 
amongst the grove of trees, Maggie tripped over something. 
The object had give and she reached out to find what it 
was in the dark. She closed her eyes momentarily to get 
them better accostomed to the dark them looked down at the 
object.
	It was Carol, alive and breathing, but unconsious. 
She stood to go back for help when she felt the cold steel 
of a gun in the back of her neck, then heard the click 
which signaled that he had cocked his pistol.
	"Hey, Maggie," he asked. "Is there a problem?"
	Maggie swallowed hard and hoped for rescue.

	"What was that all about?" Jesse asked Suzie.
	Suzie shrugged. "She said she was going to follow 
John. I can't figure what for, but she told me to tell 
Steve if she didn't come back soon."
	Jesse nodded, but didn't say anything about the knot 
that had formed in his stomach. He had learned to trust 
Steve's instincts within a few hours of meeting him. If 
Steve didn't trust John Masters, well, Jesse didn't trust 
him either.
	The knot in Jesse's stomach grew, and before a few 
minutes had even gone by, he dragged Suzie over to Sheriff 
Sloan and made her tell him which direction Maggie had 
gone off in. Steve looked panicked for about two second 
then ran off in the direction that Suzie had indicated.

	Steve crept through the woods looking sharply in the 
dark for John Masters, his sister and Maggie. He could 
hear John talking gently to Maggie seconds before he made 
them out through the dark. He quietly pulled his own gun 
from it's holster and cocked it before putting it into 
John's neck.
	"Drop the gun," Steve ordered.
	"I could just pull the trigger and kill her now," 
John said softly.
	"You'll be dead a few seconds later," Steve said 
through clenched teeth.
	"Go ahead, you've wanted to shoot me since I came 
into town," John said. "I would shoot you if our roles 
were reversed."
	"You're not me," Steve said.
	John lowered his gun from Maggie's neck and Steve 
could see her visably relax just a bit.
	Steve still held the gun on him as he turned around, 
but took a step back. John held his gun up and dropped it 
to the ground with a laugh at Steve. He lit a cigar and 
the clearing for a moment, but when the match went out, 
Steve couldn't see again. John knocked the gun out of 
Steve's hand and punched him.
	Steve fell to the ground before getting up and 
listening for John as he came after him again. Maggie had 
taken refuge on the ground, he could hear he there, so 
Steve knew that any movement he saw and heard would be 
John. John's head suddenly came into view, and Steve's 
fist hit it before it could disappear back into the 
darkness.
	He could hear Maggie whispering to Carol, then saw 
the movement of them moving out of the area. Unfortunatly, 
while Steve's attention was averted, John chose to strike 
again. Steve grunted as John put his fist into his 
stomach. Steve hit him in the face and he went flying into 
a tree.
	"You know, you were right not to trust me," John 
said as he wiped blood from his nose. "After all, I killed 
my brother in a fight. He wouldn't make me his deputy 
either. He said I was a no account swindler."
	Steve hit him again as he heard people and saw the 
light from several lanters come in their direction. He 
could barely see his opponent in the dim light, but at 
least he could see him now.
	"You are a no account swindler," Steve told him as 
he hit him again. "That one was for Sheriff Masters." He 
hit the man again. "That one was for Maggie." He hit him a 
third time. "That on was for Carol." He paused. "And this 
one's for me." He slugged him again.
	John slid down the tree as Lyle Maddock came into 
view followed by Mark, Jesse, and the rest of the people 
from the dance. Maggie pushed her way through the crowd to 
take Steve by the arm and lead him away from her uncle. 
Two of the burlier men grabbed John and Lyle ripped the 
Deputy's badge from John's shirt.
	"I'm sorry I never listened to you Steve," Lyle 
said. "I'm listening now."
	Steve's eyes was swollen shut, but he looked at the 
mayor anyway. "John said he killed his brother," Steve 
told him. "Take him to jail."
	Lyle turned to the burley men who had the beaten 
man. "You heard him," he said. "Take him away."
	Steve watched as they dragged him away and the crowd 
began to disperse. Mark came up, lantern in hand, and 
slapped his son's shoulder. Steve winced and Mark quickly 
apologized.
	"Good work, son," he said then joined the others as 
they left Maggie and Steve alone.
	Maggie slowly began to lead Steve back towards the 
dance floor. Steve walked a few feet with his hand around 
her shoulder then stopped her in the near dark around the 
edge of the trees. The music started up again and he 
leaned in and kissed her, his fingers tangled in the mass 
of curls on the back of her head.

	Marshal Davis pulled the lever to see if the trap 
door was working on the hanging platform before pulling it 
back up and positioning John Masters in the middle of it. 
Judge Rowland covered the mans head with a pillowcase and 
slid the noose around John's neck.
	"Do you have any last words?" Davis asked as he held 
his hand on the lever.
	"No," John said simply.
	Davis took a deep breath and pulled the lever. John 
fell through and went limp, his neck broken.
	Steve stood next to Maggie as they watched the 
visiting lawmen hang the convicted murderer. Maggie buried 
her head in Steve's shoulder, and he led her away. Pete 
had been standing next to them and he followed them away.
	Mark and Amanda stepped forward to collect the body 
and pronounce him dead. He was to be buried in an unmarked 
grave in the graveyard, away from the others, and away 
from the man he had killed.

	Detective Steve Sloan woke with a start to find that 
the sun was shining through the window. He could remember 
every part of the vivid dream, and even ached in the 
places where he had been hurt in the dream.
	He glanced at the files around him on the coffee 
table and couch and picked up the one that he had listed 
the murdered man's family in. One son, one daughter, and 
one.... brother. Could it be? Steve just had to find out.

	"Well, who did it, the son or the daughter?" Jesse 
asked Steve as he poured a cup of coffee.
	They were in the doctor's lounge at Community 
General Hospital talking about the case.
	"Neither," Steve replied. "The brother."
	"The brother," Jesse said, clearly not 
understanding.
	"I couldn't find evidence that one of his kids 
pulled it off because there was none," Steve explained. "I 
went back and looked at the evidence again, then talked to 
the wittness again, and come to find out, the man's 
brother killed him."
	"Okay," Jesse said. "Now tell me why."
	"Money," Mark interjected. "A stipulation in the 
will stated that the brother gets it all if the kids are 
unable to collect."
	Steve shrugged. "Your regular run of the mill 
framing-someone- else-so-he-gets-the-money deal."
	At that moment, Dr. Amanda Bently, formerly 
Livingstone, came in followed by another doctor. "Mark, 
Jesse, Steve, I want you to meet Dr. Maggie Marcus. She's 
started today as my assistant in the path lab."
	Steve almost choked on his coffee. He had seen her 
before.
	Maggie shook hands with Mark and then Jesse before 
holding her hand out to Steve. As he took it, she got a 
bewildered look on her face. "Do I know you?" she asked.
	Steve shook his head speechless. She was the woman 
from his dream. He swore to himself he would never eat 
that much pizza that late at night again.