Chapter One
The tallest lawman Lily Roslyn had ever seen walked through the batwings at sundown. An air of strength and sureness surrounded him, like no harm could befall any worthy body in the room while he was there. He looked across the saloon at Kitty, and seemed not to notice Lily, though she stood by Kitty at the bar.
A slim fellow with a limp and a short older man followed the lawman. The slim one saw Lily at once and smiled at her. She liked his eyes at first glance, and thought him a nice sort. The older man looked keen and distinguished yet unassuming, and Lily sensed that he was good.
"Here come my best friends," said Kitty. "I'll introduce you."
"Are they married?" said Lily. When her father died a year after her mother, Lily sold their Nebraska farm, moved to Dodge, and hired on at the Long Branch solely to catch a husband, as she confided to Kitty.
"No," said Kitty, her gaze fixed on the lawman. "All unmarried."
"You love the tall one," said Lily, her pretty mouth with its fuller lower lip pouting. "He's the best one."
"Course he is," said Kitty. "But I love all three of 'em in different ways."
"Hello, Kitty," said the lawman, tipping his hat.
"Lily, this is Marshal Dillon," said Kitty. She slipped her arm possessively around Matt's waist in an impulsive gesture. Showing affection in front of folks made him uneasy, so Kitty was relieved when the marshal's hand moved to her arm.
The marshal tugged his hat brim again. "Lily," he said.
"Marshal," said Lily.
"And that's Chester Goode," said Kitty.
"Miss Lily," said Chester. He had artless brown eyes which eagerly admired her, like she was a lady instead of a gal.
"Lily Roslyn. Just call me Lily, Mr. Goode," she said. Her large round eyes were soft yet clear like russet crystal.
"Lily Roslyn. That's a pretty name. Just call me Chester."
"And this is Doc Adams," said Kitty.
"How do," said Doc.
"A doctor," said Lily. "I knew you were important. I saw it soon as you walked in."
"Well, I don't know about that," said Doc.
"Neither do I," said Chester.
"I know I'm pleased to meet you," Doc said to Lily.
Matt, Chester and Doc gazed at Lily, and Kitty felt pleased, a little anxious and a bit jealous. Though Lily was good for business, Kitty had no doubt the young woman would work only a short time at the Long Branch. Lily would have her choice of men seeking a wife. So far as Kitty knew, Matt wasn't thinking of marriage, and she hoped Lily got nowhere with the marshal.
Slightly taller than Kitty, Lily was twenty-two years old, and slender yet shapely. She had wavy chestnut hair, thick and silky, a flawless light-tan complexion, and a delicate nose. Her face glowed with a depth of feeling which illuminated her eyes. Doc later described Lily's expression to Kitty as profoundly theatrical.
"Can I buy you a beer, Lily?" said Chester.
"I'd like that," said Lily. "If Doc will join us."
"Be happy to," said Doc. "I'll buy for you and Chester. Save Chester the trouble of asking me to loan 'im twenty cents."
"You're holdin' me to embarrassment, Doc," said Chester. "I wasn't gonna ask you, anyway. I was fixin' to ask Mr. Dillon."
"I imagine so," said Doc. "You already got a free supper outa me."
"Well, I . . . jest . . . ." Flustered, Chester looked at Lily.
"That's alright, Matt," said Doc, as Matt reached into his pocket. "This round's on me. Sam, five beers. Why don't we all set."
"You and Chester go ahead with Lily, Doc," said Kitty. "I'll stay here at the bar with Matt."
"Perhaps we can chat another time, Marshal," said Lily.
"Sure," said Matt. Lily took Chester's arm with one hand and Doc's with the other, and walked between them to a table.
"She's a very pretty young woman," said Matt.
"She's beautiful," said Kitty. "She's also lookin' for a husband, if you're interested."
"She's a little young for me," said Matt. "And I'm not lookin' to get married any time soon."
"I noticed," said Kitty. Chester slid his chair close to Lily's and laid his hand on hers. Kitty couldn't hear what they said, as the Long Branch was noisy from the night crowd and player piano. Lily moved her face near Chester's until their noses almost touched, and said something that made him laugh. Sitting on Lily's other side, Doc spoke, and Chester frowned and said something to Doc that made Lily laugh.
"They're havin' a good time over there," said Kitty.
"Wanna join 'em?" said Matt.
"No," said Kitty. "I wanna stand here with you, for some reason."
"Nice to feel wanted," said Matt. He drank from his beer.
Kitty wondered how Matt would react if she kissed him there at the bar. Her eyes twinkled at him, her smile close-mouthed and crooked.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and shifted his weight. "What is it, Kitty?" said the marshal.
"Nothing." She touched her hand to his face. She wanted to say "I love you," but thought better of it. Matt attended to his beer.
"There's Lance Prescott," said Kitty, as a handsome young man walked through the batwings. "He should like Lily. He's what she's searching for. Their names match. Lance and Lily."
Watching the batwings for new arrivals, Lily looked stunned when she saw Lance. He stood still as he sighted her, then removed his hat and held it to his chest, his expression mirroring Lily's.
"Mr. Prescott doesn't mind Lance patronizing saloons," said Matt, "but he doesn't want his boy keeping company with the gals. Lance is too young and . . . dreamy . . . to know what he's gettin' into."
"My guess is he'll be gettin' into Lily," said Kitty.
Matt looked at Kitty and felt a jolt. With a few breaths, he recognized the jolt as mild shock, an emotion that rarely came over the marshal, even when a gunman got the drop on him. Kitty could comport herself like a gentlewoman when she wanted to, and usually showed good breeding except when riled.
Matt and Kitty watched Lance approach the table where Lily sat with Chester and Doc, introduce himself to Lily, bow, and kiss her hand. "Lance is no boy," said Kitty. She wasn't sorry that she'd shocked Matt a little. He was so strait-laced. "He's two years older than Lily, and far more experienced," Kitty said. "She just came from a Nebraska farm in the middle of no place; grew up there. Lance went to school in New York and he's been to Europe. Places like Paris and Rome. Not to mention my upstairs rooms."
Lance moved to the bar beside Matt. Of medium height and trim build, Lance had finely cut patrician features and expressive eyes with long lashes. A strong jaw and decidedly masculine aspect saved him from looking pretty.
"I'll have a beer at Lily's table, Sam," said Lance.
"Comin' up," said Sam.
"Lance," said Matt.
"Marshal."
"You know there'll be trouble if your father happens in and sees you with Lily," said Matt.
"I don't care what my father thinks," said Lance. "He's hard and judgmental, and conceited. And I'm a grown man, Marshal. I may live in my father's home, but I make my own decisions. Not meaning any disrespect, but what I do is my business."
Lance walked to Lily's table, seated himself and spoke to Chester, who started chatting with him. Doc and Lily joined the conversation, and after a moment, Doc rose from his chair next to Lily and offered the seat to Lance. He scooted the chair near Lily on one side, while Chester remained just as close at her other side. Doc took his beer and moved to Matt and Kitty at the bar.
"Now, I could be wrong," said Doc, "but I don't think Chester's odd man out over there. Take a look." Lily gave Lance a quick light kiss, then turned and kissed Chester the same way.
"Well, Chester has the sense not to get serious about her," said Matt. "Can't say the same for Lance. His head's in the clouds. Mr. Prescott's a widower, and Lance is his only child. Prescott spoils the boy so he's never done a lick of work in his life."
"Lance doesn't need to work," said Kitty. "Jefferson Prescott's a rich landowner. They're from old money. Prescott came to Dodge to build new business. Besides, what's so dreadful about Lily that makes Lance too good to court her?" A pucker appeared between Kitty's brows and her mouth tightened.
"She's beautiful; I know that much," said Doc. He sipped his beer. "If young Prescott is too snippety good for Lily, I'm next in line. Don't think he is, though. I'd say he's anything but."
"Lily said courtin' words to me and Doc, Kitty," said Matt. "And she's over there sparkin' Lance and Chester."
"What of it?" said Kitty. "How else will she know who her best match is."
"It's proper for a woman to let the man do the courtin'," said Matt.
"Lily won't have any lack of suitors," said Doc. "She won't be able to stop 'em."
"Oh, really, Matt," said Kitty.
"Speak of trouble," said the marshal. He straightened up, gulped from his beer, and put the mug on the bar. "Jeff Prescott just came in," said Matt.
Lance resembled his father, except that at forty-eight years of age, the older Prescott was a little taller and heavier, with a slightly larger frame than his son; and unlike Lance, Jeff had flinty eyes and a hard mouth.
Lily sat with Lance and Chester at a table farther from the batwings near the wall, and Jeff Prescott walked to the bar without seeing his son.
"Lance, is that man your father?" said Lily. "You look like him."
"My goodness," said Chester. "It's your daddy, Lance, sure 'nough."
"It's alright," said Lance. "He never hit me, Chester. Not in my life. Never laid a rough hand on me."
"Your pa doesn't hold with drinking?" said Lily.
"Father's got nothing against drinking or saloons," said Lance. He took Lily's soft hand with its red-painted nails in both of his. His hands were smallish, soft as her own and paler. Some time had passed since she'd worked her parents' farm, and with the help of creams and pumice, her hands had smoothed and the calluses vanished. Though Lance's hands were gentle, they lacked the comforting strength she'd always felt in her father's hands, and sought in men who courted her.
Lily looked at Chester's sun-browned hands cupped around his beer mug. As Lance held her right hand, she took Chester's hand with her left.
"Here now, why don't you set your mind on me, honey," Lance said. "I'm the one wants to marry you. I knew it soon as I laid eyes on you. I figure Chester's got something on his mind, alright. It's not marriage."
Chester reddened. "You oughtn't talk thataway afore Lily."
Lance gazed at his father's back as Jeff Prescott leaned on the bar and sipped beer. "Father hasn't seen us," said Lance. "Hopefully he won't."
"Why not?" said Lily, rubbing her fingers around Chester's. Neither soft or work roughened, his hand was stronger than Lance's, though not as strong as she liked. Marshal Dillon had big hands; Lily didn't need to hold them to know their strength.
"Father hates it when I court saloon women," said Lance. "He's mighty prideful."
"Could he convince you not to marry me if I accepted you?" said Lily.
"He won't take away my inheritance," said Lance. "I'm his only son, and he has no daughters. And he wants Prescott Properties and the family line to survive. That means a lot to him. He owns millions in land, businesses, mines, you name it. Everything goes to me when he dies."
Lance pressed Lily's hand, and she let go of Chester's hand to put her other hand over Lance's. She wanted a rich man, and he was wealthy beyond imagining. Chester looked too poor to provide for a wife.
"I don't want you near Father, though," Lance said to Lily. "He hasn't any use for women, even society ladies. I suppose that's why he didn't remarry after my mother died. I don't remember her, but I suspect a broken heart weakened her too much to live when she got sick. Father's cold around women. I'm not at all like him. I just want to give my heart to the woman I love, long as I live."
Lance's eyes were luminously dark, earnest and craving. Lily gripped his hands and kissed him with all the tenderness she could muster.
Chester ruefully looked on. "I'm in the way . . . here," he said. "I'll go back to the bar, maybe." He had an urge to stand by Kitty.
"Oh, Chester. No," said Lily, taking his hand again. "I like your company, too. I have no friends in Dodge, except Kitty's sort of a friend. You're my friend, Chester, aren't you?"
"Lance might have somethin' to say 'bout it," said Chester.
"Makes no never mind to me," said Lance. "Long as you're my friend, too, Chester."
"Oh." Chester studied a cricket on the floor. "Well. Then . . . I think I'll have, I'll have another beer. At the bar." Chester stood, raised his empty mug, and went to Kitty.
"Oh, dear," said Lily. "I'm afraid we made him feel awkward."
"We didn't mean to," said Lance. "He's a nice fellow, but I do want to talk just you and me."
The marshal and Doc flanked Kitty at the bar. " 'Scuse me, Doc," said Chester, sliding in between Doc and Kitty.
"Well, go on and take the best spot in the room," said Doc.
"You been standin' by Miss Kitty quite a spell, now, Doc," said Chester. "It's my turn." He leaned on the bar and contemplated his empty mug.
"Didn't go well, Chester?" said Kitty, patting his back.
"She wants to be my friend," said Chester. "So does he."
"Nothin' to mope about, when a beautiful woman wants to be your friend," said Doc. "She didn't ask me to be her friend."
"You're lucky, Chester," said Matt. "Lily will trouble young Prescott's life instead of yours."
"Matt," said Kitty. "I'll buy you another beer, Chester."
"Thank you, Miss Kitty," said Chester. "I could use one."
"I want to travel with my wife," Lance said to Lily. "Move from place to place. To California, and the islands and Europe. I'll hire solicitors to run the businesses when Father gets old, and after he dies. I don't like business; I've no head for it. Father made me study it at New York University, and I flunked out first year on purpose."
"Oh, I'd love to travel the world with the man I love," Lily said wistfully.
Jeff Prescott turned and leaned back against the bar, watching the men and gals. He stiffened when he saw his son with Lily, their fingers intertwined. Jeff headed for their table.
"Prescott's seen them," said Matt. He took a big swallow of beer, set his mug down, and trailed Jeff. Chester likewise gulped beer, put his mug on the bar, and followed the marshal.
"Good heavens," said Lance. "Father's coming." Lance squeezed Lily's hands. "He can get fierce," said Lance. "I saw him slap one of our maids once when he thought I wasn't looking." Lily gasped and pulled one of her hands away from Lance, covering her mouth.
"Don't worry, honey," said Lance. "I won't let him hurt you." He and Lily rose from their chairs, and Lance put his arm around her as he faced his father.
"What do you think you're doing with this gal, Lance?" said Jeff Prescott.
"This is Lily Roslyn, Father," said Lance. "I'm courting her with the intention of marriage."
"You young fool," said Jeff. "Women like her see men for what they can get from 'em. She wants your money and respectability."
"There's nothing wrong with that, Mr. Prescott," said Lily. "I do want wealth and position."
"What'd I tell you," Jeff said to his son.
"But I also have a lot of love to give a man," said Lily. "And your son is easy to love."
"You mean he's easy to know in the carnal way," said Jeff. His hard mouth curled in disdain. "Your breed has no conception of love.'
"And neither do you," Lance said to his father. "At least not for women. Stop looking at Lily that way. She's a beautiful woman, not dirt under your boots."
Jeff stepped close to Lily, and Matt stepped close to Jeff. "You stay away from my son, understand?" Jeff said to Lily, his voice biting.
"Stop it, Father," said Lance. "You'll scare her."
"I mean to scare her," said Jeff.
"I'm not afraid of you," said Lily, her face flushed and her eyes blazing. She was afraid. Her heart pounded so she could scarcely breathe, making her light-headed. She also felt like she could beat Jeff Prescott with her bare hands and leave him bleeding on the floor.
One side of Jeff's mouth curved in a scornful grin, and his eyes wandered with slow deliberation over Lily's body. Her hand itched to slap him.
"Don't look at her like that," said Lance. "I'll hit you right here."
"You'd hit your own father on account of some cheap woman?" said Jeff.
"I'm not cheap," said Lily. "I work here because I need the job. I'm not that kind of woman."
"It doesn't matter. Any woman that'd take a job here is cheap. Now get your dirty hands off my son and your sweet hind end away from this table," Jeff ordered menacingly.
"Confounded, Father," said Lance. "I'm gonna—"
Matt collared Jeff, jerked him away from Lily, and backhanded him, hard enough to sting without knocking him down. "Go home, Prescott," said the marshal.
"I will not," said Jeff. "At least not without my son. You've no right to order me, Marshal."
"You threaten a woman in this town, that gives me a right," said the marshal. Now go home."
"I'll go if Lance comes with me," said Jeff.
"Why don't you go on with him, Lance," said Matt.
"No," said Lance. "He's a beast; he frightened Lily. I won't leave her here with no man to comfort her except these dregs who want to take advantage of her."
"You call me a beast?" said Jeff. "Your own father?"
"I need to not see your face awhile, Father, or I'll hit you," said Lance. "I'm not going home yet. I'll stay at Dodge House a spell."
"Alright," said Jeff. "But at least leave the Long Branch with me. Walk home with me to pack your bag. Come away from this gal; she's no good for you."
"No, Father," said Lance, his arm around Lily. "I won't walk with you or talk things out, not so long as you speak to Lily that way."
"You see what you've done," Jeff said to Lily, his voice gravelly with fury. "You tore a rift between me and my son, and I won't stand for it." He grabbed Lily's arm and yanked her away from Lance.
Matt punched Jeff, and he fell on his back. The saloon went quiet. Lily held her arm, which throbbed where Prescott grabbed her. Her shoulder hurt. She felt Chester's hands on her arms, his touch gentle as he leaned over her.
"Alright, Lily?" said Matt.
"I think so," she said, gazing up into the marshal's eyes. "I'll have a bruise.
"Will you walk out with me, Chester? I need some air," said Lily.
"Night's warm," said Chester soothingly. "We'll set a bit. You jest take it easy, Lily. It'll work out.
"You best tend yer pa," Chester said to Lance.
Doc appeared at Lily's side. "Alright, Lily?" he said. "Need me to take a look at your arm?"
"I'll be fine, Doc, thanks," said Lily. "I just need some air. I'm going out to sit with Chester."
"Well, I'll come with you; how's that?" said Doc. "I could use some air myself."
"Lance, help your pa up and get 'im home," said the marshal.
"Come on, Father," said Lance. He bent over Jeff, put his arms around his father, and pulled. "Try harder to get up," said Lance, tugging. "You're bigger than me." Jeff staggered to his feet, and Lance slung his father's arm around the son's shoulder.
"You're my son," Jeff mumbled. "Fine and sweet like your sainted mother, though you're a boy. I won't let that gal ruin you."
"I never heard you speak of my mother like that," said Lance, supporting his father toward the batwings. "I always thought you hated her, on account of you're so cold and distant with women."
Jeff shrugged off his son's arm and paused before the batwings, tidying his suit. Matt waited a few steps behind them. "My mother was cold and distant," said Jeff, smoothing his hair. "But I loved your mother, son. Her death soured me more on other women."
They pushed through the batwings, trailed by the marshal. Down the walk from the Long Branch, Lily sat between Chester and Doc. Jeff stopped by the bench.
"Leave Lily alone, Father," said Lance.
"You best remember what I said in there, young woman," said Jeff to Lily. "I meant every word. Stay away from my son."
Matt pushed Jeff. "Get movin', Prescott."
"I'll see you tomorrow at the Long Branch, Lily," said Lance. Lily couldn't summon the courage to say goodnight with Jeff scowling at her. Her arm still hurt where he'd grabbed it. Lance walked away with his father, and Matt headed back to the Long Branch.
Lily watched the marshal move off, thinking how easily he'd protected her from Jeff. Lance was fine-looking and rich and she liked him, but she despised his father. She wished Jeff would catch fever and die, or be killed by a stray bullet. Even if Jeff died, though, Lance could never make Lily feel safe as Marshal Dillon did. When she kissed Lance, she'd sensed a yearning in him, like that of a lost child.
Lily felt keenly aware of Chester sitting quietly beside her. Some four inches taller than Lance, Chester seemed not to need Lily at all, yet he was helpful and obliging, and had a settled way about him that young Prescott lacked.
Doc sat comfortably at Lily's other side. Much older than herself, he'd admired her without sparking. Even so, an unmarried doctor of any age made an eligible suitor.
Inside the Long Branch, Matt and Kitty sat at a table. "Jeff Prescott should be ashamed, picking on a girl like Lily," said Kitty. "He's a hard nasty man. I don't know why he bothers comin' here, since he hates women. He oughta do his drinkin' in that fancy house of his."
"Well, Prescott did love his wife, Kitty," said Matt. "I heard him tell the boy so."
Kitty frowned at the marshal. "Why do you keep calling Lance a boy," she said. "To paint Lily as a gold digger, I suppose, even though she's younger and just a farm girl."
"Kitty, I'm not painting Lily as anything," said Matt. "But I do understand Jeff Prescott's position. He's prominent in business, not just in Dodge, but across the country and in Europe. Makes sense he'd want Lance to marry befitting his station."
"I don't care what Jeff Prescott wants," said Kitty. "And you shouldn't, either, Matt. I only care what happens to Lily."
"I don't like Prescott, believe me," said Matt. "But you have to admit Lily's somewhat of a player. Chester sparks her cuz she's pretty, but I don't see him fallin' for her, she's too young for Doc, and I'm not interested. Lance on the other hand is young and moony enough to get caught in her trap."
"Lily has no trap," said Kitty. "She's just a girl lookin' for a good match. Please be nice to her, Matt. She needs friends here."
"I have no problem bein' nice to a pretty young woman," said Matt. "And I'll look out for Lily long as Prescott's son courts her."
"You think Jeff'll try to hurt her, Matt?"
"I don't know, Kitty," said the marshal. "I'll do my best not to give him a chance to hurt her."
Jeff spent most of his days on business trips, riding in his carriage with his personal driver. He hadn't the time or inclination to track his son's movements.
Lance squired Lily around on her days off, and passed nights with her at the Long Branch. She realized Doc had no intention of courting her, and Chester soon stopped his attentions, seeing Lance as her special beau. As for Marshal Dillon, he wasn't Kitty's husband, which made him fair game. He was so self-assured and fond of Kitty, Lily had no notion how to kindle his interest other than looking intently into his eyes, which just seemed to amuse him.
The day Jeff saw Lance walking Front Street with Lily, Matt rode to a farm to break up a fight between a young sodbuster and his wife, both under twenty years of age. With no children to distract them, they bickered loudly and often and hit each other, prompting their neighbors to send for the marshal.
Walking to the livery to go riding, Lance and Lily were so immersed in their own company, they didn't see Jeff striding toward them. Passing by the marshal's office, they greeted Chester sitting outside, and nearly collided with the older Prescott.
"Mercy," Lily gasped, touching her palm to her chest.
"Father," said Lance. "What are you doing out here." Chester stood up.
"You'd better not bother me, Mr. Prescott," said Lily. "Or I'll scream for Marshal Dillon to come out."
"Mr. Dillon rode to the Laramie farm," said Chester. "I won't let Prescott hurt you none, Lily." Chester glowered at Jeff, who stared fiercely at Lily.
"Keep out of this, Chester," said Jeff. "It's not your business."
"Don't you even think 'bout layin' a finger on Lily," Chester warned.
"Why aren't you out riding to a business meeting in that ridiculous black carriage, Father," said Lance. "It's a wonder folks don't mistake you for the undertaker, for all that coach looks like a hearse. I sure wouldn't be caught dead in it. Normal people take the stage."
"That isn't funny, Lance," said Jeff. "Stop disrespecting me on account of this gal."
"Why should I," said Lance. "You don't respect Lily."
"Women like her deserve no respect," said Jeff. "I told you to stay away from my son," he said to Lily.
"Leave her alone, Father," said Lance. "We've been keeping company since that first night at the Long Branch, and I still intend to marry Lily if she'll have me."
Jeff's face twisted in a silent snarl, and he slapped Lily hard, moving too fast for Chester or Lance to stop him. Lance's fingers balled into a fist to hit his father, but Chester got to him first, backhanding him. He reeled, keeping his footing.
Lily clutched her cheek, her eyes burning rage at Jeff. "You . . . rotten . . . swill," she said. Her voice, normally light and melodious, sounded sonorous. Chester and Lance gaped at her, and even Jeff looked shocked. Uttering a screech to put more strength into it, Lily slapped Jeff back. "I wish I had an iron mallet," said Lily. "I'd beat you to death right here."
"Lily," Lance whispered.
"See what sort of creature she is, son?" said Jeff. "She's like a witch."
"Shut up, Father," said Lance. "You started this. You made her mad."
"You go ahead on, Prescott," said Chester to Jeff. "You lay a hand on Lily again and I'll throw you in jail."
"You have no authority to jail me," said Jeff, his eyes fixed piercingly on Lily. "You're no deputy."
Chester moved in front of Lily, blocking Jeff's view of her, and bumped against him, forcing him to step back. "I said move on," said Chester.
"How dare you give me orders," said Jeff. "Get out of the way."
"Just walk around him in the street and get out of here, Father," said Lance. "Lily's staying right by my side. You try to hit her again, you'll be fighting Chester and me."
Jeff moved into the street. "You think you've sunk your claws into my son, but you're mistaken," he growled at Lily. "You better leave town if you know what's good for you, gal. And I mean now. Don't take your time about it, or you'll be sorrier than you've ever been in your life."
"Get away from her, Father!" Lance shouted.
"I ain't gonna tell you again; now go," said Chester, following Jeff into the street.
"You try to jail me, and I'll knock you out, Chester," said Jeff.
"Yeah, well, we'll see about that," said Chester. "I'm minded to fight you right now, you don't git. You oughter be ashamed, hittin' a woman."
"I got no fight with you," said Jeff. He hitched his pants and tugged his vest, squared his shoulders and jerked his jaw at Chester.
"No, you'd ruther fight a woman," said Chester.
"Stop wasting my time," said Jeff. "Dunderhead." He rubbed his face where Lily had slapped him, a cunning look replacing the contempt in his hard eyes.
"You pack quite a wallop in that soft little hand, don't you," Jeff said to Lily. "Fiery gal like you'll please a man one way, anyhow. Nothing to do with marriage in your case."
"I've never hit you in my life, Father," said Lance, "but if you don't—"
"Don't try it, Lance," said his father. "I won't muck up my day tussling with you. I've things to do, but if I wanted to stand in this spot 'til nightfall, I would. I'm bigger than you, and I'll be stronger than you a long time to come. Remember that.
"As for you, gal," Jeff said, his eyes boring into Lily's, "I warned you, and you didn't listen." He stalked away.
As Lily was a woman, Lance and Chester figured she needed comforting. Though she welcomed their attentions, she felt no fear or hurt, only an invigorating agitation that warmed her all over. Lance encircled her in his arms and stroked her hair, while Chester patted her back.
"You're both so kind," said Lily. She put her hands on Lance's shoulders. "Lance," she said, "I don't want to harm Jeff Prescott as he is your father, and . . . I don't like hurting people. But when he grabbed my arm at the Long Branch, and just now when he slapped me, and those horrid things he said—"
"Oh, honey, I'm no end sorry," Lance said, shaking his head.
"No, listen," said Lily, her round eyes wide. She raised her hands before his face. "I could hurt your father terribly with just my two hands, Lance," she said. "Without you or Chester or Marshal Dillon to protect me. I could kill Jeff Prescott. Just with these." Her hands formed fists. Lance's mouth opened a little and he stared at her, speechless.
"My goodness," said Chester in a hushed tone, his hand falling from Lily's back. His hand was warm and gentle, and she wished he'd pat her again. He seemed to her more chivalrous than Lance.
Lance's hands closed around her fists, and he kissed her knuckles. "You talk like a wildcat when you're riled," he murmured. "You're so wonderfully spirited. Darling Lily. Let's not allow Father's meanness to keep us from our riding trip," said Lance. "Please, Lily."
"I never let anyone stop me from anything I want to do," said Lily. "And I want to go riding with you."
Lance beamed at her, his soft dark eyes shining, and she thought him rather too pretty at the moment. He had finer features than Marshal Dillon or Chester. The marshal and his friend weren't pretty, and she found their faces pleasing no matter what feeling was behind them.
Lily turned to Chester, who gazed with a patient, distant look over her and Lance's heads. Now that she was safe a spell from Jeff, and had stopped ranting about beating and killing him, Chester seemed to have lost interest in her. "Chester," said Lily, a bit forlornly.
He looked at her and blushed. Lily took his hand. "Thank you for rescuing me," she said.
Chester averted his eyes and tried to pull back his hand. Lily tightened her hold. "T'weren't nothin'," he said. He looked at Lance. "Not meanin' ta be unmannerly, but yer paw sure 'nough needs to mend his ways respectin' women," said Chester.
"I know, Chester," said Lance. "I can't change him. He doesn't pay me any mind."
Lily touched her hand to the back of Chester's head and kissed him. "Waal, gracious," he said. "I should maybe rescue you habitual."
Lance looked wounded. "I thought I was your fella, Lily," he said.
"I bought her a big topaz ring to match her eyes and hair," Lance said to Chester. "She'll accept it from me. Soon as she sets her mind to have me."
"She hasn't," said Chester, smiling at Lily. "Set her mind."
"Well, she will," said Lance.
"Oh, don't get het up, Lance," said Lily, taking his arm. "Let's get our horses from Mr. Grimmick's."
As they moved down the walk, Jeff Prescott peered around the corner from a passage between two buildings and watched Lily's retreating form. She wore a hip-length jacket, and riding pants fitted to her legs and backside.
Jeff figured Lily was the kind of gal that needed breaking, and as Lance's father, he bore the responsibility of subduing her body and crushing her spirit for the good of his son. Jeff would bide his time until he caught her alone, and when he was through taking her, she'd never go near his son again.