The Cowgirl

by Bronwyn Celtia

How far will Annie Anderson's desperate niece go to keep herself safe? (rated Mature for implied nastiness)

40

The Cowgirl

The spring day was fine with birdsong, a sweet-smelling breeze, and a bright sun. Branding time was just about to start at the Anderson Ranch, and repairs after winter's storms already had. In those things, the Anderson spread was no different from any other such establishment.

A stranger to the ranch might wonder where the workers were. One woman, faded a bit from the years, hung laundry out on a long line. One black man was chopping wood hauled in from winter blow-downs. The other nine denizens of the ranch, engaged in various chores, ranged from eighteen down to ten. 'Miz Anderson's Boys', they were called in town even by their own parents. Every one of them had more than proved they could do the jobs of adult men. All had earned their place here.

"Clyde said he'd be glad to give us a hand with the branding, Mr. Nightlinger," Charles 'Slim' Honeycutt reported to the foreman, Jebediah Nightlinger. "And Richard Williams and Liam Turcell."

"That's three. Might take a bit longer, but we'll get it done," Jebediah nodded complacently. There were strong young men returning to town, now most had realized there weren't any fields of gold for the picking. Jebediah wished them well. He'd rather work with people he could count on.

"David Wrainwright asked for a job," Slim continued. "But if it's all the same, I told him we've got enough help."

"I've seen David Wrainwright," Jebediah snorted. "I'd rather put my trust in young Weedy to get the job done right the first time."

"That's unanimous," Slim grinned. "Besides, putting David and Cimarron together for too long wouldn't be pretty."

"Rider coming!" Hardy sang out from the front. "Hey Mr. Nightlinger! Come see this horse!" Slim and Jebediah exchanged looks. To most of the boys, a horse was a horse, although they all had a fond spot for Crazy Alice, and each had his favorite. Only Cimarron ever actually got excited about a horse.

"Let's take a look, shall we?" Jebediah swung the ax to set it in the wood, and waved Slim around the side of the building.

The stallion entering the yard was a credit to his breed. Tall, well-formed, with wide, intelligent eyes, the grey moved as if he wore the finest tack, and carried some richly-appointed rider. Cimarron, standing by the hitching rail, was already taking in every point of confirmation.

The horse's rig and rider were a direct contrast to the well-groomed, open beauty of the animal. Clean but worn, Jebediah noted. Most of the stranger's face was obscured by a floppy-brimmed hat, worn low, which looked too large for the small head beneath it. The denim pant legs were cuffed over battered boots. Even the faded work shirt and long dusty trail coat appeared to be a few sizes too big for the sparse frame wearing them.

"Can I help you?" Jebediah couldn't put a finger on it yet, but something about the shabby figure didn't seem quite right. Something more than just the visual differences between horse and rider.

The rider dismounted with a sort of jumping motion, and held out an envelope. It was addressed simply with Annie Anderson's name.

"Slim, take this 'round to Miz Anderson," Jebediah instructed, handing it on. The dismount had dislodged the hat a bit, giving a glimpse at a horribly scarred face, a faded bandanna, and two shadow-filled grey eyes. "Go ahead and water your horse. Yourself, as well."

"What happened to his face?" Weedy demanded hoarsely of Cimarron. Jebediah shot him a quelling look, but if the stranger even head, he gave no indication. He merely led the stallion to the watering trough.

"Miz Anderson, this was just brought for you," Slim handed Annie the envelope. "The fella that brought it looks young, hard on his luck, and like he's come a far piece."

"Really?" Annie opened the note, and scanned it. Slim noticed her eyes widened, and she went over it again. "Oh good lord!"

"Trouble?"

"That remains to be seen," Annie refolded the note, and returned it to the envelope, heading for the front of the house. "HL!"

The stranger turned to face her, and Annie checked her steps, drawing a sharp breath at the sight of the scarred face.

"Miz Anderson?" Jebediah frowned.

"It's alright, Mr. Nightlinger. I just…haven't seen the child in a few years, before that happened," Annie said tersely. "Cimarron, see to the horse, please. HL, in the house. I want a few words with you."

"Wonder who he is?" Dan mused, watching the mysterious HL soundlessly follow Annie inside.

"When Miz Anderson wants us to know, she'll tell us," Jebediah stated. He was just as curious, but he wasn't about to let any of the boys know that. "Back to work, all of you! Steve, go finish hanging that wash out for Miz Anderson. It's your clothes she did this morning. Weedy, make sure there's fresh straw in that empty stall. Dan, don't you leave those tools laying about like that!"

"What happened to your face?" Annie demanded, as soon as she closed the door.

"Nothing really. It's mostly dried chicken skin," a very feminine voice replied, as one gloved hand removed the hat. "And theatrical make-up. I am hiding from Jerome. This seem the best way to do it."

"Your hair?"

"Had to cut it. Unfortunately, it's so blasted curly, it still looks like a girl's hair," the tone was slightly disgusted. "But with the bandanna and the make-up, I figure Jerome will be tearing his hair out, looking for me. After all, he's looking for a sixteen year old girl with long, wavy red hair and freckles; not a scarred teen aged boy."

"Hannah, Jerome Parker has no right to hound you for a runaway, regardless," Annie stated. "I know full well your grandmother did not name him as your guardian in her will."

"No, she named Michael, whose comment was if Jerome wanted to accept responsibility for me, that was just fine by him," Hannah Louise Metcalf replied. "He's never believed anything against Jerome, because Jerome was always very careful how he dealt with Michael. And now that Jerome's supposedly a respectable businessman, well…" Hannah shrugged. "Money talks, Aunt Annie."

"Jerome isn't even related to you!" Annie made a face. "What about your Aunt Irena?"

"She'd love to have me, but there's no room, now Beth and her three are there," Hannah shook her head. "Beth is even more afraid of Jerome than I am. I can't expose her to him, let alone little Mary or the boys."

"You do realize Jerome may well think to look for you here," Annie pointed out.

"I'm lucky if I'm two weeks ahead of him," Hannah nodded. "Although, I did actually leave town on an east-bound train, hoping he'd think I went to Uncle Henry. Can't something be done to make you my legal guardian? If it was just for two years, I'd be willing to keep this rig, and keep moving if I needed to. But he and Michael have set it up so he'd have control over me until I'm twenty-one! If I wasn't dead by then, I sure wouldn't be me anymore."

"Agreed. I'll go to town tomorrow, and find out what Marshall Winter and Judge McDaniels have to say about it," Annie promised. "What do you do in the meantime?"

"Work for my aunt," Hannah grinned. It crinkled the chicken skin horribly, and Annie grimaced. Hannah laughed. "It works, Aunt Annie. And this horrendous scarred face gives me the perfect reason to be quiet, solitary, and sleep in the house rather than the bunkhouse."

"I know Ellen said you're a wonder with animals, and hard work," Annie looked doubtful. "But that was a small farm, not a ranch…"

"I've dug holes for fence posts, I've dealt with stubborn mules and one very nasty rooster," Hannah listed. "I've helped birth calves, lambs and foals. I can't do any less than that little blonde you've got out there."

"Weedy is tougher than he looks."

"So am I," Hannah's tone was serious, "I also have more reason to keep up, keep hidden, until you're my legal guardian. I spent the last two weeks of Gran's life avoiding Jerome by not leaving her side…and he wasn't allowed in the house. For two weeks after that, he was on his best behavior because Michael, Reverend Carlisle, and Mr Brayton were there, watching his every move. You know what will happen if he gets his hands on me, Aunt Annie." The haunted look in her grey eyes made Annie want to hide her away from the world.

"Yes, I do," Annie nodded. Ellen had written long letters, telling her about her step-son's unhealthy obsession with Hannah, even back when Hannah was ten, and newly orphaned. "If you're sure you can handle it, we'll give it a try…" She was cut off by shouts, laughter, and the sound of one angry horse outside.

"Magnus!" Hannah jammed the hat back on her hear and ran out. Annie followed.

Hannah's saddlebags were on the porch. Cimarron was just getting back to his feet. Slime, Steve, and Dan were trying to corner a very irate stallion.

Hannah darted past the startled boys, grabbed the reins, and put one hand on the proud grey neck. Magnus stopped rearing, snorted once, and lowered his head to her face.

"What happened?" Annie demanded.

"Cimarron got in the saddle," Jebediah was grinning slightly. "It didn't go over well with the grey. He came out of the saddle a good deal faster."

"You just have to ride every horse, don't you, Cimarron?" Annie rolled her eyes.

"Sorry, Miz Anderson," Cimarron dusted himself off.

"Mr. Nightlinger, boys, this is HL…my nephew," Annie said. "He'll be working here from now on. HL, stable that beast. Slim will show you where. After that, report to Mr. Nightlinger. I'll put your bags in your room. You can unpack after supper."

"Ever work cattle before?" Jebediah wished he could figure out just what about HL bothered him. Hannah shook her head. "Horses?" She nodded. "How are you with a hammer?" Hannah grinned, and held out her hand for the tool. "Get up on the barn roof and give Dan a hand with those new shingles."

Whatever HL was hiding, he wasn't afraid of working, or heights. Hammer in hand, he was halfway up the ladder before Jebediah finished speaking.

"The nails are there," Dan pointed. "You want to start from that side, and meet up in the middle?" Hannah nodded. "Fine. I'm Dan, by the way." Hannah extended her hand. Her voice was a sure give away, but she didn't need to be surly in her silence. "Don't you talk?"

"Not well," Hannah basically disliked lying. So, she whispered, making her voice as raspy and hoarse as possible. "Smoke."

"You got caught in a fire?" Dan's eyes widened. Well, it wasn't a lie. A fire had claimed her parents' lives. It was pure luck Hannah had gotten out. Luck and a brave man breaking through her bedroom window, when he saw her standing there. "Wow!" Dan let it drop, and they got to work.

"How far did you two get with the barn roof, Dan?" Jebediah asked at the supper table.

"We've got two rows of shingles left to do, sir," Dan replied.

"Is that all? You two work fast together."

"But will the shingles they already put on, stay on?" Cimarron asked lightly. Hannah, sitting next to Dan, leaned closer to her new friend and whispered in his ear.

"Longer than he stayed on my horse."

Dan almost choked laughing.

"But what happened to his face?" Bob asked, later that night in the bunkhouse. Most of the boys were doing school work. It was a condition of their continued employment that they kept up with their education. "And why does he only whisper?"

"And that, only to Miz Anderson and Dan," added Hardy.

"He got caught in a fire," Dan replied. "The smoke ruined his voice, so he can't talk above a whisper, and even that sounds like it hurts."

"It must have been bad, the way his face looks," Homer said. "Reckon his hands look like that too?"

"Maybe worse, considering those fancy gloves he wore at supper," Steve shrugged.

"Scarred or not, he makes good use of them," Dan noted.

"Seems stand-offish to me," Cimarron said.

"Seems that was said about someone else we know, not even a year ago," Slim grinned slightly. "Give the guy a break, Cimarron. He probably gets pointed at and teased and whispered about as it is. And you did try riding his horse without asking."

"Tried is right!" Hardy started laughing. "That Magnus sure showed you who's the boss!"

"He wasn't used to my weight. It spooked him," Cimarron insisted. "I'll bet HL don't weight much more than Weedy, even if he is as tall as Steve. Looks like a walking scarecrow in those baggy clothes."

"If he's covered with scars, maybe anything better fitting hurts," Dan suggested.

"If the rest of him is as scarred as his face, I don't never want to see!" Weedy stated firmly.

"You'll get use to it," Dan told him. "HL is a good worker, and he's got a good sense of humor."

"I'm glad to see you are not judging by his looks, Dan," Jebediah said approvingly. "It's a lesson I thought you'd all learned already."

"I never knew Miz Anderson had a nephew," Slim sat strumming his guitar.

"She has several," Jebediah shrugged. "With the current exception, they are all back east, so there's little reason you would know about them. Lights out! Dawn comes early, and we need to start branding tomorrow."

Branding was something Hannah had never done, and, although she gamely did her share, it made her ill at first.

"You kinda get used to the smell," Slim told her sympathetically. "Well, not really used to it. Your uncle told us you never really get used to it; but enough so you don't get sick every time. Here, water helps." Hannah wasn't too sure about that, but she accepted the canteen, saluted Slim with it, and sipped cautiously.

"You two are wasting daylight!" Cimarron called to them. "Too much for you, HL?"

Hannah made a face, gave Slim back the canteen, and headed for another calf.

"Still think you can do this?" Annie asked that evening, when they were alone in the house. Hannah was flat on her back on the floor, sore in places she hadn't known could get sore.

"I can do this," Hannah vowed. "If only someday to wipe that smirk completely off Cimarron's face! He's having a fine time, picking on the new guy."

"Mr. Nightlinger…"

"Let it go, Aunt Annie. It's not like I didn't expect something of the sort, and he's actually the only one," Hannah sighed, closing her eyes. "And it's all just verbal."

"So, where did you get the stallion?" Annie continued with her mending. "You never mentioned Magnus before, and you would have."

"I won him," Hannah chuckled. "The first town I hit as HL. I had to have a decent horse to get here, but it wasn't like I had a lot of cash I could flash around. It would have caused too many questions. The man who had Magnus said he was only good for stud, that he couldn't be ridden. He could barely handle him at all. I bet him I could stay in the saddle better than a minute. If I won, Magnus was mine. If I lost, I wouldn't expect him to pay any doctor's bills."

"Is Magnus really dangerous?"

"No, Aunt Annie, he isn't dangerous," Hannah smiled. "At least, not to me. I was in the saddle a good five minutes before the man finally gave up waiting to see me thrown. He'd still be waiting. Magnus is only five, and he was never really trained. His first owner imported him from Europe somewhere. The fella I won him from had a loud voice, a heavy hand, and a short temper."

"He's a fine looking animal."

"He's more than just looks! He's strong, fast, intelligent, and all heart," Hannah praised the stallion. "Finding him was probably the best thing that's happened to me in the last six years."

"Cimarron is going to want to try riding him again," Annie warned. "Magnus, as far as I know, is the first horse to ever throw him."

"I may just let him try. It might be worth it, watching him land in the dirt. I missed that yesterday," Hannah said. "The minute he starts getting heavy-handed, I might knock him out of the saddle myself."

"Cimarron is probably the best rider around. He doesn't tend to be heavy handed with horses, just some people," Annie said. "He can be a bit of a hot head, a bit rash, and impulsive at times…"

"Sounds familiar. We'll either end up as friends, or trying to knock each other's brains out," Hannah laughed.

"You are not to fight with the boys," Annie snapped. "Not with any boy!"

"Aunt Annie, the males of our species fight. It's inbred, I think. Don't worry about it. On the occasion I cannot avoid it, I do know how to fight dirty enough to protect myself," Hannah told her.

"And what about the girls?" Annie asked.

"What about the girls?"

"How do you plan to deal with things if some young miss from town takes a shine to my new boy?" Annie challenged.

""With this face? They'll be running the other way, whispering behind my back," Hannah snorted.

"Not everyone judges by appearances. You don't."

"That's because I learned young how deceiving they can be," Hannah pointed out. "I won't be talking to girls much, if at all. So, hopefully, by the time any of your local starry-eyed belles think to look beyond the scars, it will be a moot point."

"We'll see," Annie smiled slightly.

"Yes, we will."

"Do you still play your flute?"

"Yes, and yes, I brought it with me. I didn't trust Jerome not to sell it," Hannah sat up slowly. "My flute and some sheet music, the pearls from Great-grandmother Mella, Gran's favorite broach, and my book of poetry. That's all I dared even try to save. Lord knows what Jerome's done with the rest."

Branding took several hot, muscle-pulling days. Hannah never let Cimarron see her pause again after that first time. In fact, as soon as she released her last calf, she was looking for another.

"Easy HL. We're finished," Jebediah patted her shoulder. "That was the last of them. Clyde, you take Richard and Liam up to the house. Miz Anderson will pay you. Weedy, go on with them, and help get things set for supper. Cimarron, put those branding irons away. Slim and Steve, get these cattle back where they belong. The rest of you, let's get this mess cleaned up."

"Don't HL ever talk?" Clyde had originally been one of the boys hired by Wil Anderson for the previous year's drive. The death of his boss, his friend Charlie, and several rustlers had put him off the job full time.

"Not much. It hurts his throat," Weedy replies. "It's 'cause of being caught in a fire."

"He doesn't have to talk to work," Liam shrugged. "And he surely does that."

"Takes him too long to pull down a calf," Cimarron stated.

"No, it doesn't," Weedy disagreed. "You just don't like him, 'cause Magnus threw you."

"Cimarron got thrown?" Clyde's jaw dropped. "By a horse?"

"And we missed it!" Liam sighed theatrically.

"Like you've never gotten thrown by a horse?" Cimarron glared at him.

"Sure, I have. I'm not you," Liam grinned. "I know Slim's thrown you all across this yard. We all reckon Elsa's gonna throw you sooner or later. But you, get thrown by a horse? Didn't think that could happen!"

"Leave Elsa out of it!"

"Take it easy, Cimarron," Richard stepped in between them. "He's just teasing, and you know it." Cimarron, still glaring, headed for the barn with the branding irons. "Are you trying to get your head knocked off, Liam? You know damn well he won't hear a word against Elsa Wrainwright."

"More the fool he is," Clyde snorted. "She was hanging all over Miz Marisey's nephew from Charlotte, when he came to visit. Widow Beecher's grandson, too."

"Most of the town knows it, but he won't believe it," Liam said. "Because Elsa's got him wrapped around her pretty little finger."

"Right where she had you, until she noticed Cimarron," Weedy pointed out. "I sure do wish she'd stop stringing him along. Your temper was never as touchy as his is over her!"

That Friday, Ellen Price, the school marm, had organized a picnic for her students, including Miz Anderson's Boys, who were on Independent Study. Hearing about HL, she gave Slim firm orders to bring the newcomer along

"I'll ask him, Miss Price," Slim looked doubtful. "He may not want to come. He isn't very talkative, and he was badly scarred in a fire…"

"If he is going to be part of this community, Slim, he can't just hide away at the ranch," Miss Price insisted. "And as his friends, you boys shouldn't let him."

When Hannah saw Slim hanging his guitar off his saddle, she ran back for her flute. If she had to go…and it seemed Annie and Jebediah agreed with Ellen Price about that, she might as well make the best of it.

"What's that?" Dan asked, when she brought the case out. She opened it to show him the flute. "Hey Slim! HL's got a flute!"

"Great!" Slim smiled. "It'll be nice not to be the only one with an instrument."

"Just full of surprises, you are, HL," Cimarron swung into his saddle. Hannah ignored him, stowing the flute case into her saddlebag, then pulling herself up onto Magnus's back.

Hannah had sort of gotten used to the stares and the whispers her appearance caused in towns, so the twittering of a group of girls around her own age hardly mattered. Especially upon further observation of Elsa Wrainwright and her two cronies, Jennifer Carter and Maureen O'Connell. Elsa was apparently the 'Town Beauty', with long, fair hair and big blue eyes. Based on her clothes, her parents had some money, and saw themselves as leaders in the community. Hannah knew the type.

The thing that bothered her about Elsa was the way the other girl latched onto Cimarron, and proceeded to treat him like a lap dog. To Hannah, Elsa's insincerity was blatant. Cimarron seemed to buy every line.

"It's because he's considered the best-looking boy in town," a girl with long chestnut curls commented softly, stopping by Hannah. "Elsa can't find any rich boy here, so she'll dangle a handsome one around for a bit. I like Cimarron, but she isn't serious about him, and there is no way her parents would let her be." The girl smiled. "I'm Teresa Jones. Dam's told me about you. Welcome to town, HL."

Annie's challenge about how Hannah would deal with besotted females briefly crossed Hannah's mind. Only briefly; this was the girl Dan talked about constantly. The feeling, according to Hardy, was mutual. Teresa, Dan's girl, was just trying to be friends with another of Dan's friends.

"Amazing how well he plays that flute, considering how scarred he is," Jennifer commented that afternoon, while most of the students were listening to Slim and Hannah play.

"He plays better than your sister ever did and she wasn't scarred at all," Teresa pointed out.

"I don't mind listening to him, but I simply cannot look at him," Elsa was sitting slightly turned away from the two musicians. Spoiled and a bit petty, she'd been trained young by her mother to use her looks to get her own way most of the time. Her mother had plans for an Eastern finishing school, and a rich husband. For the time being, Elsa found Cimarron an acceptable 'target' for keeping her 'skills' honed. Besides, with his dark, half-wild good looks and catlike grace, and her own fair-haired beauty, they made a striking couple at dances.

"Don't recall HL asking you to look his way," Dan said flatly.

"Don't be rude," Elsa glared at him briefly. "I mean, honestly! How can you tolerate that sight over a meal table? I'm surprised Weedy doesn't have nightmares!"

"Weedy has dealt with worse than HL's scars."

"We don't have time to notice the scars when we're working," Cimarron shrugged. HL's scars didn't bother any of them by the end of that first week. His problems were less easy to pinpoint. "When we're eating, we're eating. And being family, HL sleeps in the main house, not the bunk house."

"Is he Miz Anderson's heir, then?" Maureen asked, eyeing the battered hat above the flute speculatively. She wasn't as pretty as Elsa or Jennifer, nor did her parents have as much money. She'd make the best of local possibilities. And the Anderson Ranch was one of the biggest around.

"No idea," Dan stated. "He's not the only kin." Still, a word of warning to his friend wouldn't be out of order.

Dan was doubly sure of that after watching Maureen take a slice of pie and a large cup of milk over during a break in the music.

"HL, I thought you could use this," she said, sitting down in the grass next to Hannah. "Playing the flute is hard work, or so Alice was always complaining."

Now why, Hannah wondered, was one of 'Queen Elsa's Court' targeting a scarred scarecrow? Still, the milk was cold and the pie wasn't bad.

"Maureen's getting ideas, HL," Dan warned on the way home. "She figures you might end up with the ranch, and that's a good prospect in her eyes."

"Stupid female," Hannah practically growled. "Two faced!"

"You reckon all girls are?"

"No," Hannah shook her head. "Elsa's crew, yes. Teresa, Lizzie, Helen, Janice…they're nice girls."

"How can you tell the difference?" Steve asked.

"Because I can."

"Judge McDaniels has granted me temporary custody, and he's working at making it permanent," Annie informed her one evening. "Marshall Winter is keeping an eye out for Jerome, but he thinks you need to keep on as is until the legal work is all settled."

"At least that long," Hannah agreed. "Even if it is a bit harder than I thought it would be."

"Stringing fences too much for you?"

"No, it's not the work," Hannah sighed. "It's not being able to have any girl friends my own age that I can talk to and giggle with. Dan's great, and if I'm careful, I can hold a conversation with him, at least. But I'd love to be able to walk into Mr. Peterson's store with Teresa, and talk about dress goods and patterns and bobbles and boys…"

"By the end of the summer, dear," Annie promised. "It has to be before the cattle drive. I can't let you make that trip."

"No, I suppose not."

Hannah had to go into town with Annie to speak to Judge McDaniels and Marshall Winter herself. After that was a trip to Anse Peterson's General store. Hannah couldn't help eyeing a bolt of apple green taffeta, wishing for a pretty dress.

"Hello Miz Anderson," Maureen's voice broke into Hannah's day dream. She quickly edged away from the table of fabrics to a display of men's shirts. "Hello, HL!"

"Good afternoon, Maureen," Annie hid an amused grin. She had warned her niece, after all!

Hannah moved closer to Annie, and growled a single word' "Mail." Then she practically bolted from the store.

"That nephew of your sure can play the flute, Miz Anderson," Maureen smiled prettily. "It was such a pleasant surprise for the picnic."

"Oh, HL is full of surprises," Annie agreed. "Now, Anse, I'll be needing some dress goods…"

"HL!" Teresa came hurrying up the street. "Thank goodness! Please hurry!"" She latched onto Hannah's arm, and dragged her back the way she'd come. "I need your help. Cupcake's gotten her silly self stuck!"

Cupcake was a bundle of brown and white puppy that belonged to Teresa's little sister, seven year old Frannie. Right now, Cupcake was literally up a tree, whimpering.

"How?" Hannah demanded.

"Out the bedroom window, onto the porch roof, and across that branch," Teresa pointed to a broken branch laying on the ground. It was so thin, Hannah was surprised it hadn't broken with the puppy still on it. "Frannie is throwing a fit. I can't get up there…"

"Back," Hannah motioned Teresa to safety, then shimmied up the tree. She stuffed Cupcake into her shirt. "Silly mutt."

"Thank you so much, HL," Teresa beamed, accepting Cupcake from Hannah once both were safely down again. "Frannie, take this foolish critter."

"Thank you, HL!" Frannie hugged Hannah first, then happily carried her puppy around to the backyard.

"I really didn't know what I was going to do," Teresa sighed. "If anything happened to that fur ball…Thanks again, HL." Impulsively, she kissed Hannah's cheek. "Why, you're wearing…" Hannah slapped a hand over her mouth.

"My, my. Courting Teresa, are you, HL?" Elsa demanded from behind them.

"No, he's not," Teresa stated firmly. "I was thanking him for saving Frannie's puppy. Come have a glass of lemonade, HL." She dragged Hannah into the house, to the privacy of the kitchen. "Now, there's no one to hear us. So tell me why you're wearing make-up and why your face smells funny."

"The smell would be the chicken skin," Hannah sighed, speaking in her own voice. "You're the first person to get close enough to smell it."

"You're a girl!" Teresa almost dropped the lemonade jug.

"Not so loud, Teresa!" Hannah warned. "You are now one of four people in this town who know, and I don't want there to be a fifth."

"Why the disguise?" Teresa poured two cups of lemonade.

"It's only until Judge McDaniels finalizes the paperwork naming my Aunt Annie my legal guardian," Hannah explained. "My parents died six years ago, in a fire. I went to live with my grandmother and her second husband. Gran was Aunt Annie's sister. Pop died three years back. Gran died three months ago. I was supposed to go to my father's cousin, Michael. But Pop's son convinced Michael he could do better for me."

"And you don't like him," Teresa guessed.

"That's putting it mildly. Jerome Parker is a bastard in every sense of the word," Hannah replied frankly. "He's been sniffing after my skirts since I was ten, trying to corner me all the time, pawing at me. Michael's never seen that side of Jerome, and didn't believe it. There was no way I was going to live under the same roof as Jerome Parker!"

"So, you disguised yourself as a boy, and came here. That makes sense," Teresa nodded. "I wouldn't have thought of the disguise, myself. I'd have just run."

"Being HL allowed me to travel alone, unquestioned," Hannah explained. "Not to mention, covered my tracks. I fully expect Jerome to show up here, eventually, which is why Sheriff Winter knows the whole story. But if no one's seen a reddish blonde girl, I keel hoping Jerome won't just try to drag me back."

"And none of the boys suspect anything? Or Mr. Nightlinger?"

"I think Mr. Nightlinger might," Hannah admitted. "He gives me funny looks sometimes, like he's trying to figure me out. But if he does, he'll just ask Aunt Annie about it first, so I'm safe there."

"Are you sweet on Dan?" Teresa demanded.

"He is my friend, Teresa," Hannah stated. "No, I am not sweet on him. Besides, what good would it do me, when he's completely gone on you?" Teresa blushed. "I see the feeling is mutual. Hardy thought so, and so did I."

"He's so shy, I don't know if he'll ever say anything," Teresa mourned. "And I can't. It isn't ladylike."

"At least you letting Dan know you're interested in him would be a damn sight more honest than how Elsa Wrainwright treats Cimarron!" Hannah snorted.

"Or Maureen O'Connell's reasons for trying to get your attention," Teresa agreed. Then she burst out laughing. "Oh my! I want to be there to see Maureen's face when she finally finds out you're female!"

"Serves her right, chasing after someone because she thinks he might inherit a ranch someday," Hannah grinned. "I have to go get the mail. That's where I told Aunt Annie I was going when I bolted from Peterson's. Maureen was there."

"When dealing with Maureen, just keep in mind what a nasty shock she's in for," Teresa advised. "Oh, I so want to see her face!"

Jebediah watched Hannah jump from the wagon and turn to help Annie down. Some had looked wrong, but what was it?

It was when Hannah bent over to pick up a fallen parcel the truth jumped at Jebediah. No boy had hips or a butt like that!

"So, Mrs. Anderson," Jebediah grabbed a box of supplies, and followed Annie into the kitchen. "When were you going to tell me HL isn't your nephew?" Annie shot Hannah a look.

"Why, whatever do you mean, Mr. Nightlinger?" Annie asked.

"I mean, the title 'nephew' indicates a male child," Jebediah said quietly. "Which HL is not."

"Told you he'd figure it out, Aunt Annie," Hannah set the package in her hands on the table. "I'll unload. You'd better tell Mr. Nightlinger the whole story."

"While I have to admire the girl's wits and spunk, it was a very dangerous gamble she took," Jebediah commented, after Annie had told him all about Hannah's disguise and the reasons for it.

"Not as dangerous as having to live with Jerome," Annie disagreed. "Wil and I went when Raymond died. We saw what Jerome was like. Wil threatened to break every bone in his body, when he caught Jerome bothering Hannah then. She was barely thirteen! And Jerome was twenty-eight, considered one of the most eligible bachelors in town. I wouldn't wish him on a diseased whore."

"How long do we keep up the pretense?"

"As long as it takes."

"She cannot go on the drive," Jebediah stated. "Yes, she can handle the work, but I don't want to risk nine boys finding out number ten is actually a girl."

"Agreed, not that the boys would be the resulting problem," Annie said. "Hannah knows it, too. Hopefully, it won't take that long."

A few days later, Hannah realized Dan had over-night started giving her the cold shoulder. Usually, they worked together, making a very good team. This morning, Dan volunteered to help Cimarron replace a length of the corral fence. Hannah and Weedy ended up with wood chopping duty.

"Wonder what's bugging Dan," Weedy saw Hannah glancing quizzically in Dan's direction. "He and Cimarron were up and out before the rest of us this morning. When I saw him, he looked really mad." He looked over at Dan. "He still does."

Hannah knew Cimarron had gone to town the evening before to see Elsa. A nasty suspicion formed in Hannah's mind. She handed Weedy the ax, and headed for the corral.

"I'm outta here," Dan wheeled and stalked off. Hannah looked at Cimarron.

"Can't blame him for not wanting to be around you," Cimarron smirked slightly. "If I found out you were sparking my girl behind my back…"

Hannah didn't think, she just swung, connecting with Cimarron's jaw.

"I thought you said Teresa knows?" Annie asked when Hannah fled to the house, leaving Cimarron out cold on the ground.

"She does, and she was never interested in HL," Hannah scowled. "Elsa Wrainwright is a lying, two-faced, manipulative…"

"I don't suggest you let Cimarron hear you talking about his girl like that."

"She's as much his girl as Maureen O'Connell is mine!" Hannah snapped. "Elsa is a spoiled brat who demands attention, and must be better than everyone else. Her sole interest in Cimarron is how good he looks and how good he makes her look. She has absolutely no intention of getting serious about a nameless ranch hand. And I heard her mother tell Mrs. Carter that Elsa's been accepted to some finishing school in New York, where she'll meet 'the right sort of people'."

"Did Mrs. Wrainwright know you were listening?" Annie asked.

"Mrs. Wrainwright makes the assumption that, since HL is badly scarred and she has never heard him speak, he must be a bit deaf and more than a little bit stupid," Hannah shrugged. "It's not like Cimarron would believe anyone telling him, Aunt Annie. He believes only Elsa about Elsa."

"I suppose we'll just have to let Cimarron find out the hard way," Annie nodded. "What about Dan?"

"I am going to drag his butt into town, to see Teresa," Hannah decided. "It means telling him the truth, but I can't see any other way. Part of this is his own fault. He has yet to tell Teresa he's sweet on her."

"You're going to have to deal with Cimarron, too. He won't be happy about that sucker punch," Annie warned.

"Dan first. His good opinion of me is more important," Hannah replied. "Dan is my friend. Cimarron and I…well, you have noticed Mr. Nightlinger doesn't leave us alone too often. He gets snotty and I get sneaky."

"I had noticed, yes," Annie rolled her eyes. For every remark Cimarron made, Hannah tended to retaliate with some prank. The rest of the boys found it amusing. Annie found it telling, at least on her niece's part. "It will be interesting to see what happens when he finds out the truth."

"Teresa said that about Maureen."

"She will need smelling salts. I'm a little concerned Slim and Steve may have to haul Cimarron out of the saloon.

Dan was less than thrilled when Annie ordered him to ride into town with Hannah.

"But Mr. Nightlinger said…" Dan began.

"I will speak to Mr. Nightlinger," Annie stated. "HL's got the horses. Go!"

"Afraid I'd go after HL, Miz Anderson?" Cimarron asked, watching the two ride out.

"HL had every right for decking you, Cimarron," Annie said sternly. "Repeating gossip the way you did can cause a lot of trouble."

"Elsa saw HL with Teresa…"

"Elsa saw what it suited her to see. I am telling you right here and now to drop it," Annie looked at him. She was fond of all her boys, and she loved her niece. She could easily see Hannah and Cimarron being close, but he'd never be able to handle it if he hurt her, thinking she was a boy, then found out the truth. "I really do not want to find out which of you would win in a fight."

"Will you please stop acting like an idiot?" Hannah demanded in exasperation half way to town. She also spoke in her normal voice. Dan reined in sharply. "Yes, Dan. This is my real voice."

"You…you're a girl!" It came out as an angry accusation.

"I am a girl," Hannah nodded. "So there is no way I'd be courting Teresa, or any other female."

"Miz Anderson…"

"Aunt Annie knows exactly what is going on. So do Mr. Nightlinger, Judge McDaniels, and Marshall Winter. I am sixteen. My grandmother, Aunt Annie's sister, died a few months ago. Her so-called stepson is a controlling, abusive bastard who tried raping me when I was thirteen. He also managed to get himself made my legal guardian. I am terrified of Jerome Parker, Dan. So, I disguised myself and ran. And until I am sure he is no longer a threat to me, I am going to stay disguised."

"Cimarron said Elsa saw you kissing Teresa!"

"Elsa saw Teresa kiss my cheek for rescuing Frannie's dog. She twisted the situation to suit her. You know what Elsa's like, even if Cimarron can't see it for daylight!" Hannah stated. "Elsa Wrainwright is a vain, spoiled, two-faced, silly child with delusions of importance. For a moderately intelligent person, Cimarron is unbelievably stupid when it comes to her. He can do a lot better than a lying hussy who's only using him to mark time until she goes off to finishing school. And she picked him because of his good looks…and maybe his stupidity. Once she goes off to New York, I doubt she'll even remember his name."

"What if Teresa's sweet on you, or rather, HL, like Maureen?" he demanded.

"Did I not tell you to stop acting like an idiot? That seems to be Cimarron's job." Hannah snorted. "First of all, Maureen O'Connell is not sweet on me, she's angling after what she sees as the biggest fish in a small pond. Secondly, Teresa is not sweet on me, because she is crazy about you! Besides which, she knows I'm a girl."

"What? I'm supposed to be your best friend here, and I'm the last to know?" Dan shook his head.

"Teresa knows because she got close enough to feel and smell the make-up," Hannah started moving Magnus forward again. "Mr. Nightlinger figured it out on his own. We had to tell the Judge and the Marshall."

"So, where are we going?"

"Town, like Aunt Annie told you. You are actually going to talk to Teresa," Hannah informed him. "I may just take a coal shovel to Elsa's backside."

"They'll be in school. I can't talk to her in front of the whole school!" Dan panicked.

"It's almost dismissal time. You can walk her home. Carry her books. Or let her ride behind you, so she doesn't have to worry about all the mud from last night's rain," Hannah said. "Males! If you're not overbearingly arrogant in your own conceit, you act as if talking to a girl is harder than dragging a calf in for branding!"

"It is!"

"Dan, you've been talking to me for almost a month, every day."

"But I didn't know you were a girl!"

"Proving my point that it's all mostly in your head."

The students were just filing out of the little one-room school when Hannah and Dan arrived. Teresa spotted them, smiled, and waved.

"Go on!" Hannah ordered lowly. Blushing slightly, Dan rode right up to Teresa and offered his hand from the saddle.

"Would you like a ride home, Teresa? It's pretty muddy yet."

"I'd love one…but Frannie…" Teresa glanced at her sister.

"Frannie can ride with HL," Dan offered. "Can't she, HL?" Hannah nodded.

"Some people shouldn't be allowed around young children," Elsa sniffed loudly. "They might cause nightmares!"

Hannah rode Magnus right past Elsa, Jennifer and Maureen to reach Frannie. Maureen smiled hopefully, Jennifer just looked bored. Elsa took a step back, slipped, and fell into a large mud puddle.

"How clumsy of you, Elsa," Teresa looked down from her perch in front of Dan. Hannah was pulling Frannie from the steps to the saddle in front of her, keeping the little girl sideways. "And your new dress, too! What a shame." The look on her face said she found it anything but.

"You…you beast!" Elsa struggled to her feet. "HL Anderson, you did this deliberately!"

"He did no such thing!" Maureen contradicted her. "Jennifer and I were standing much closer than you, and we didn't even get splattered, let alone pushed in the mud."

"Elsa has a guilty conscious," Dan said, turning his horse away. "Ask her what lies she tried spreading about MY girl and my best friend."

Cimarron was not amused when he heard about the incident. It didn't help that he was still angry over his own run-in with Hannah. He went looking for his quiet co-worker with fire in his eyes.

"HL, I ought to knock your block off!" He caught Hannah's shoulder and spun her around to face him. She'd been speaking softly to Dan, who would have intervened now, except for the warning look she gave him. "Where do you get off, knocking Elsa into the mud?"

"Elsa fell in the mud all on her own," Dan said flatly. Hannah was just looking at Cimarron. She knew she had to be ready to duck, and strike fast.

"When he damn near rode her down!" Cimarron exploded, finger pointed in Hannah's face.

"That is another lie," Dan said coolly. "Jennifer and Maureen were a lot closer to the path. They never moved, and never even got splashed with mud. Elsa panicked from a guilty conscious, tried to bolt, and fell flat on her ass."

"Elsa has no reason to have a guilty conscious."

"Oh really? How about the lies she's been telling about Teresa and HL?" Dan asked. "Not that Elsa usually seems all that bothered about lying, I'll admit…"

"Why would Elsa lie about Teresa and HL, especially to me?" Cimarron challenged. Hannah snorted, motioned to Dan, and started to walk away. "Hey! I'm not finished with you yet!"

But when Cimarron grabbed her this time, Hannah was ready. She wheeled back, swinging, catching him up from the bottom of his jaw, sending him staggering back. Before he could recover, Hannah rammed into his stomach with her head, knocking him to the ground. She moved fast, and was kneeling on his chest, the toe of one scruffy boot pressed lightly to his throat. Grey eyes full of hurt, frustration, anger and exasperating stared down into glaring brown. She was careful not to let her face get too close to his.

"To be honest, Cimarron, neither of us care why Elsa does what she does," Dan stated, hoping he sounded calmer that he felt. He'd been afraid Hannah would end up getting hurt. He was glad to see Jebediah coming. "But her lies almost had me going at HL, and made you part of the reason for it. Now her lying has you ready to have a go at HL, who has never once instigated any of the little games between you two. Maybe what you should ask yourself is what you have against HL."

Cimarron couldn't answer that, because he really didn't know. He'd felt a bit uncomfortable around the scarred newcomer from the start, but not because of the scars. Maybe it had something to do with the ease the walking scarecrow dealt with the grey stallion.

"Boy?" Jebediah's voice held a warning note. Hannah made a sound of disgust, got to her feet, and extended her hand to Cimarron to help him to his feet. She had no desire to fight him. She didn't eve like being at odds with him.

For a long moment, Cimarron just glared. Dan held his breath, daring a look at Jebediah. The foreman's black face was expressionless. Then Cimarron grinned ruefully, accepted the offered hand, and let himself be hauled up. For some reason, he felt the hand helping him was a lot smaller than it should have been.

"I won't say Elsa deliberately lied," Cimarron said. "But, she is a girl, and does tend to exaggerate on occasion. She may just have misunderstood what she saw. Girls do that." Hannah rolled her eyes at Dan, who had to cough to hide his laughter. Jebediah thumped him helpfully on the back. "You alright, Dan?"

"Dust," Dan managed to choke out. "Need water!"

"HL, make sure he doesn't choke," Jebediah ordered. The two hurried off.

"I thought you were going to hit him again when he made that comment about girls," Dan snickered.

"I was so tempted," Hannah admitted. "But what good would it do? I can't hit him hard enough to knock any sense into his thick skull. I haven't even figured out how I knocked him out the last time!"

"Where'd you learn to fight? You're sneaky!"

"I have to be," she shrugged. "If I can't get my opponent to give up fast, I'd be in a world of hurt. If Cimarron ever landed even one punch, you'd have to cart me to safety, because I would be useless."

"Cimarron, you aren't chopping that wood, you're attacking it," Jebediah noted a few days later.

"Sorry Mr. Nightlinger," Cimarron sighed, setting down the ax, and collecting the slivers of log he'd sent all over the area. "Mr. Nightlinger, what do you think of HL?"

"HL is a hard worker, and is very intelligent," Jebediah said carefully. "Has a very strong sense of humor. But you know that, since most of his pranks have been aimed at you."

"How'd I get so lucky?" Cimarron grumbled.

"Oh, you know the answer to that."

"I guess," Cimarron admitted ruefully. "I know it's not really fair to HL, but almost from the start, there was just something…" he shook his head. "I just don't know, Mr. Nightlinger. He does his share, and sometimes more. He's got it harder than I do, with all those scars. But there's just something…"

"My advice is you stop worrying about it," Jebediah grinned slightly. "Eventually, you'll figure it out."

"I think I am getting an ulcer," Hannah complained to Annie one bright Sunday morning. "Jerome is bound to show up sometime soon, and we still haven't heard anything from the Pennsylvania courts. And the longer this whole thing goes on, the more likely it is other people will find out about my disguise."

"Well, most teenage boys can't cook up a stew like you did the other day, or bake a cake like the one you made for Cimarron's birthday," Annie smiled.

"I just couldn't believe he'd never actually celebrated his birthday before," Hannah said innocently. She checked the bandanna before plopping her had on her head.

"Lord, I truly don't know what the Reverend Simmons makes of you in that hat, child," Annie sighed. Hannah just grinned. "Oh, come on! Maybe Judge McDaniels will have some good news for us."

It was Dan who saw the stranger first. While Annie and the boys, Hannah included, had gone straight to church, Dan had gone to walk with Teresa and her family. The stranger was whip thin, nattily dressed, and walking with the Wrainwrights. Elsa was strolling along on the man's arm, smiling up at something he'd said.

"One way or another, today is gonna be the last of HL," Dan whispered to Teresa. "See that fella with Elsa?"

"Do you think that's Parker?" Teresa asked.

"He's the right age, and fits the description Hannah gave me," Dan nodded. "I don't think it's going to be pretty. I may not be able to walk you home later."

"As long as you come as soon as possible, and let me know what happens," Teresa eyed the man with Elsa. "He looks…wrong. A man his age shouldn't be fawning over a girl Elsa's age."

"He shouldn't be trying to run Hannah's life, either," Dan replied. "I bet he's pumping Elsa and her folks for all the information he can get about Miz Anderson and the ranch and what goes on there."

"There will be trouble when Cimarron sees Elsa draping herself all over Parker like that, too," Teresa warned. "We have to tell Hannah he's here."

"We may not get the chance, before she sees him. I just hope she doesn't panic," Dan said. Teresa snorted, and he grinned. "Okay, so maybe we don't have to worry about that so much. But she is afraid of him, Teresa. She's more afraid of him than I ever was of those rustlers last year, and that is bad."

Jebediah was in the last row with Slim, Cimarron, Steve and Hannah when the Wrainwrights and their gust, then Dan, Teresa, and her family, entered. Cimarron was glaring daggers at the backs of Elsa and her escort. Hannah had managed to stifle a gasp, but she swayed against Slim.

"HL? You sick or something?" Slim demanded softly. Her face white beneath the make-up, Hannah nodded. "Mr. Nightlinger, something's wrong with HL."

"Let's get you some air, HL," Jebediah stood, and helped Hannah out of the building.

"The man with Elsa Wrainwright," Hannah leaned against a buggy. "It's Jerome Parker."

"He's already walked right past you once, child. Stay with the boys, and all he will see is another boy," Jebediah said. "He'll no doubt confront your aunt, but she has the upper hand now." The letter and the legal documents had arrived the day before. Judge McDaniels had been waiting when they'd gotten to church to give Annie the news.

"To be honest, Mr. Nightlinger, right now, I am more worried about Cimarron," Hannah said. "Especially his temper. Elsa is playing with fire in two directions. Someone is going to get burnt. And Jerome doesn't fight fair. He's got a knife in a wristband. Tells anyone who notices the outline it's just a brace for a weak bone in his wrist."

"I'll keep an eye on Cimarron," Jebediah promised. "Come on, we'd better go back in. It wouldn't do to have Elsa or her mother make some idle, malicious comment about you leaving before services. Parker might just get suspicious."

"Yes sir."

At the end of the service, Jerome once again walked right past the back pew without noticing the people sitting in it.

"Slim, find Marshall Winter before he leaves," Jebediah requested as they stood to leave. "Tell him the man Miz Anderson's been expecting is here."

"Yes sir," Slim, a bit curious, went off in search of Bill Winter.

"The rest of you, stay close," Jebediah included Jimmy, Bob, and Homer, as well as Cimarron, Hannah and Steve. "No wandering off."

"I need to speak to Elsa," Cimarron announced.

"It can and will wait, Cimarron," Jebediah told him sternly.

Elsa, her parents, and Jerome had not gone far. Nor had Dan, who now moved closer to Hannah.

"Ah, here's Mr. Nightlinger, Mrs. Anderson's foreman," Andrew Wrainwright announced. "And most of her ranch hands. Mr. Nightlinger, this is Jerome Parker, Mrs. Anderson's nephew from Pennsylvania. He's come to see his aunt…"

"Mrs. Anderson is still inside," Jebediah inclined his head very briefly. "The boys and I have work waiting for us. You'll excuse us."

"That's HL, Mr. Parker," Elsa piped up, pointing at Hannah.

"Is it now?" Jerome's voice was mild. "I hear, young man, you claim to be Annie Anderson's nephew. How can that be? I have only one male cousin, and he's older that you are by a number of years."

"You never met my husband's side of this family, Jerome," Annie came out of the church on Judge McDaniels' arm, with Hardy and Weedy right behind her.

"Hello Aunt Annie…"

"That's Mrs Anderson to you, Jerome. I am not you aunt, and I sometimes wonder if Raymond Parker was really your father," Annie cut him off. "Edna Wrainwright, I thought you had more sense than to allow your daughter to attempt flirting with a man fourteen years her senior. Especially such a poor excuse for a man."

"I see you haven't changed much," Jerome said. "Where is Hannah?"

"What makes you think I'd tell you, even if I knew?"

"The law. You and your husband were always sticklers for the law," Jerome replied "And I do happen to be Hannah's legal guardian."

"As a matter of fact, you aren't," Annie almost smiled. "Mr. Brayton provided a very interesting letter to the courts, on behalf of both my sister and her granddaughter. Ellen never intended you to have any control over Hannah. For that matter, neither did Raymond. We now have all the legal work taken care of. I am Hannah's legal guardian, and she will be coming to live with me. Oh, and you'll be expected by law to hand over a detailed accounting of Ellen's estate. It belongs to Hannah, not you."

"You can't take care of Hannah the way I can!" Jerome insisted. "You're old…"

"At least in my house, she won't have to barricade herself inside her room, to protect herself from you," Annie stated. "Let you take care of Hannah? I wouldn't let you take care of a snake!"

"I'm the one who watched her grow up. I'm the one who's been waiting for her for years!" Jerome's face was turning shades of red. Hannah moved closer to Annie, not trusting him. "And you want to plunk her in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by filthy ranch hands!"

"She is far safer surrounded by my ranch hands constantly, that being alone with you for even a minute," Annie's voice was calm, tinged with disdain. "You are a disgusting maggot, Jerome. I should have let my husband snap you in half three years ago. Mr. Nightlinger, boys; it's time to go home." She turned away from Jerome dismissively. Elsa was looking at him in confusion.

"Hannah is mine!" Jerome started to follow, but Hannah, knowing what he was capable of, had already gotten between him and Annie. She saw the flash of steel, but figured she had a better chance facing him, than Annie's unprotected back.

Cimarron saw the knife too, and dove at Jerome from the side, driving the older man to the ground. Elsa screamed as they rolled into her.

"Get out of the way!" Cimarron ordered. That moment of distraction on Cimarron's part was all Jerome needed to break free.

"Cimarron!" Hannah threw herself forward. She shoved Cimarron out of the way, feeling the blade that had been aimed at the back of his ribs bite into her arm instead. Elsa went hysterical. A shot rang out, and Jerome, about to renew his attack, felt face first into the road.

"Hannah!" Annie reached for her, but Hannah was turning to face Elsa now, as Bill Winter bent over Jerome. She slapped the older girl as hard as she could with her good hand. Elsa shut up, eyes wide in shock.

"I've wanted to do that for at least a month," Hannah turned back to the others. Jebediah and Dan were both there when she collapsed.

"He can talk?" Cimarron looked at Dan as Jebediah scooped Hannah up in his arms and headed for the doctor's. Annie hurried along at the black man's side.

"She can talk," Dan nodded, his worried eyes on Jebediah's back.

"Slim, Cimarron, cart this sorry excuse to the undertaker's," the marshal requested. "Well, Judge, I reckon that is an even more definitive end to Hannah's problem than all those documents you got yesterday."

"I just hope the price wasn't too high," Judge McDaniels sighed. "I'll wire Brayton, let him know what's happened. He can inform whoever else needs to know."

"Dan?" Slim looked at his friend. "What's going on?"

"I'll explain later. I need to get to Teresa," Dan hurried off.

"Did you know anything about this?" Cimarron demanded, grabbing Jerome's feet.

"I still don't know anything about this," Slim shook his head. "I sure hope someone decides to tell us, though, because it's pretty sure HL ain't who or what we thought he was!"

Hannah's eyes opened just as Doc Barker finished bandaging up her arm. Gone was the heavy, over-sized shirt and the ever-present jacket. Her own camisole wasn't even bloodied.

"Cimarron?"

"Cimarron is fine," Annie told her. "In shock, I think, but he wasn't hurt."

"I think 'shock' is the word of the day," Barker commented. "Not that many people realized what they were hearing or seeing. I'm not sure which shocked Elsa Wrainwright more; Parker's actions or you slapping her. She has not realized the person who slapped her is female."

"I could not deal with her histrionics," Hannah sat up slowly. "I knew Cimarron wouldn't shut her up, and I doubt her parents have ever hit her in her life."

"You're probably right," Jebediah agreed from where he stood by the door.

"Tonight, you have an early night," Barker ordered. "You'll have to take it easy for a few weeks, young lady. No heavy lifting, no riding, and let someone else groom that stallion of yours."

"You haven't asked about Jerome yet," Annie commented.

"Mainly because I don't want to hear he's going to live," Hannah made a face.

"Don't worry, he's dead," Jebediah assured her. "Bill Winter doesn't waste bullets or time when someone is in danger, and you and Cimarron both were, at that time."

"I'm going to need a whole new wardrobe," Hannah commented, sounding almost excited.

"We already knew that, and I've already started on it," Annie smiled. "Now you can get your wish, though."

"Which one?"

"To walk into Peterson's store with Teresa, and go through patterns and materials and baubles while you're giggling over boys."

"Hey yeah! Maybe next week, though. Can we go home now?"

"Jerome Parker was one sick man," Slim shook his head. The boys were gathered in the bunkhouse, and Jebediah and Dan had just told them the entire story, with Hannah's blessings.

"I'll say this for Hannah," Steve said. "She's got nerve to spare. To come up with that disguise, do the work we do…"

"Loco," Cimarron shook his head.

"Desperate," Dan stated. "She's been terrified of Parker since she was four years old, doubly so the last three years."

"How come you knew?" Weedy demanded, looking at Dan.

"That was partly Cimarron's fault, but mostly Elsa's," Dan replied. "When Elsa told Cimarron that HL was sparking Teresa, it caused trouble. Hannah told me the truth then."

"Does Teresa know?"

"She knew before me," Dan grinned. "She spotted the make-up Hannah was wearing."

"Be interesting to see Hannah without the disguise," Hardy grinned slightly.

"I just realized something," Slim's grin was a lot wider than Hardy's. "Cimarron got bested by a girl…twice!"

"I got beat by sucker punches twice," Cimarron growled. "HL…or Hannah…is a sneak fighter."

"Hannah has had to be," Jebediah said easily. "She has had to be, to avoid getting hurt. Had you landed any blows against her, Cimarron, you might have found out the truth sooner. You would also be feeling very guilty,"

"So the scars are really fake, Mr. Nightlinger?" Weedy asked.

"Dried chicken skin and make-up," Jebediah smiled. "Although she's yet to tell anyone where she got the idea, know how or supplies."

No one but Annie and Dan even saw Hannah for most of the following week, although the boys collectively hauled enough water into the house to bathe four people twice her size.

Friday morning, however, when they all trooped in for breakfast, Hannah was at the big stove, cooking bacon. She wore a simple blue dress, with a matching ribbon threaded in her shoulder-length red-blonde curls, and her arm was in a sling yet.

"Good morning, Mrs Anderson, Hannah," Jebediah smiled. "Might I be allowed to say, Hannah, that I thoroughly approve of the change in your appearance. Other than the sling, of course."

"Thank you, Mr. Nightlinger," Hannah returned the smile. Most of the boys were trying not to stare. Dan, of course, had already seen her without the make-up and in a dress. Weedy was openly gaping at her. Cimarron never even looked her way. "Weedy, what's the matter with you?"

"Well, Mr. Nightlinger and Dan said the scars weren't real," Weedy replied honestly. "But Dan never said you were so pretty!"

"I'll take that compliment," Hannah laughed. "You'll have to forgive Dan. He's fonder of long chestnut hair and big brown eyes."

"It's not like anybody asked!" Dan defended himself.

"Even your eyes look lighter, Hannah," Hardy commented.

"That's partly because you can actually see them," Annie set a platter of flapjacks on the table.

"And because I'm not afraid anymore," Hannah piled the bacon on another platter. "Someone come shift this, please."

Two hours later, Bill Winter and Judge McDaniels rode into the yard.

"Well, you do look quite a bit different from the last time we saw you, Hannah," Winter smiled as he dismounted. "'Morning Annie."

"Bill, Judge McDaniels," Annie came out onto the porch to stand by Hannah.

"How's the arm, gal?" the judge asked.

"Sore. Gets itchy at times," Hannah admitted. "I'm told that's a good thing."

"Is this a social call merely to check up on Hannah's health?" Annie asked. "Or is there a problem?"

"Partly yes to the first part. Definitely no to the later," Winter replied. "We do need to talk to the two of you."

"Come on in," Annie opened the door. "You're in luck. I just made a fresh pot of coffee."

"You both know I wired Brayton about Parker's demise?" McDaniels inquired as the four sat in Annie's neat living room.

"Yes, Dan told us," Annie nodded.

"A special courier arrived late last evening. He had an interesting letter from Parker's lawyer for me, and this package for you, Hannah," McDaniels handed Hannah a large, thick envelope. "Jerome Parker was a sick, evil man. He was also ruthless, and is unmourned by business associates and employees alike, including Lawyer Hamilton Darcy. He also left no will. Mr. Darcy has decided, in such an absence, to list Hannah as the man's sole heir."

"You're joking," Hannah's jaw dropped. "What on earth would a sixteen year old girl want with any of Jerome's holdings? Which, by the way, include two saloons, a brewery, and three brothels."

"Four brothels, actually," Winter corrected mildly. "And the women who managed them on his behalf jumped at Darcy's offer to buy you out. He's also arranging the sale of the two saloons, but it wondering if you wish to keep the brewery and the loan office for future financial security."

"Hell no!" Hannah snapped. "Excuse my language, please," she blushed.

"This time, I'll let it slide," Annie said. "Looks like you've just become a very rich young lady, Hannah."

"Judge McDaniels, I take it Mr. Darcy looks to you as my legal council? Or at least adviser?" Hannah asked.

"He does," McDaniels nodded.

"Tell him to sell all the businesses off. The money from the brewery is to go to the Houghton Children's Home," Hannah instructed. "They can always use the extra funds."

"It could be a secure future you're throwing away, Hannah," Winter cautioned.

"More likely a long line of headaches, Marshal," Hannah shook her head. "Maureen O'Connell made sheep's eyes at HL, just because she thought he might inherit this ranch. If I have too much money in the bank, every lazy, conniving, greedy little tramp and con man is going to start knocking on this door. No thank you. And I would just as soon not have anyone knowing I was his only heir."

"Wise," McDaniels nodded. "Apparently, that package contains the proceeds from the sale of your grandmother's estate, and the brothels. There's still the saloons, the loan office, Parker's private assets, and some assorted stocks and bonds…"

"The stocks and bonds cane be held in trust for Beth's children," Hannah decided quickly. "The money from one saloon can go to Aunt Irene and Beth. The money from the cheaper saloon can go to Michael. I'm sure we can make use of the rest here, can't we, Aunt Annie?"

"I can think of a few improvements around here that would be nice," Annie smiled. "If you're sure that's what you want."

"This is my home now. I'm not moving ever again, if I can help it," Hannah stated firmly. "Is Mr. Darcy taking care of any and all debts Jerome might have had?"

"Already done," McDaniels nodded. "Mrs. Anderson, this is an incredible young lady you have here."

"I agree, sir," Annie nodded. "And I am rather proud of her."

Hannah was intent on some serious shopping, and she wanted both Annie and Teresa with her. Mrs. Jones had agreed to let Teresa miss a day of school to meet her friend at the General Store. She'd been flabbergasted when Teresa and Dan had explained the confrontation outside of church, proud of Teresa for keeping the secret, and quite willing for the two girls to continue their friendship. She had met HL, and was looking forward to meeting Hannah.

"Good morning, Miz Anderson," someone greeted Annie as she drove the wagon into town. Dan rode along at one side, and Cimarron rode on the other. They were to provide the muscle for the day. Dan had cheerfully volunteered for duty. Cimarron was still scowling about it. "How's that nephew of yours? Looked like a pretty bad cut, from where I was standing."

"It's healing nicely, thank you, Mr. Niven," Annie replied.

"Good! Seems like a good lad, and he's definitely fast on his feet," Niven smiled. "And who is this pretty young lady?"

"My niece, Hannah," Annie said, with a perfectly straight face. As HL, Hannah had met Niven several times. "Say hello to Mr. Niven, Hannah. He runs the livery stable."

"Good morning, Mr. Niven," Hannah's face was serene, but Dan could see the laughter in her grey eyes.

"Well, we have shopping to do. Good day, Mr. Niven," Annie drove on. "I don't believe it!"

"Neither do I," Hannah agreed. "I thought it would be all over town by now that HL was really a girl!"

"Even if it were, no one's gonna recognize you, Hannah," Dan grinned. "Bound to be a few noses out of joint, they get a good look at you now." He swung out of the saddle in front of the mercantile, and hurried to lift Hannah down from the wagon. Her arm was healing well, but too much jarring still hurt.

"It's just as well Teresa's meeting us here," Hannah grinned. "Before Elsa sees us together, and tries causing more trouble, claiming you're sparking the boss's niece!"

"Elsa wouldn't…" Cimarron began.

"Elsa already did," Hannah cut him off, her grin vanishing. "And for no other reason but to stir it up. You believe what you want to, Cimarron. Maybe someday, those blinders you're wearing will get torn off."

Anse Peterson, who owned the store, smiled in welcome as they entered. Teresa and her mother were already there.

"'Morning Annie, boys," Anse greeted them. "How's that nephew of yours doing, Annie?"

"I haven't heard from Michael in months, Anse. I have no idea," Annie's lips twitched. Teresa stifled a giggle. Her mother's eyes danced.

"I meant HL."

"But I'm not her nephew, Mr. Peterson. I'm her niece," Hannah grinned. "Hannah Louise Metcalf."

"Well, I'll be…"Anse's jaw dropped.

"I still can't believe it hasn't gotten out yet," Annie shook her head. "Is everyone who was there Sunday blind?"

"Well, I doubt Judge McDaniels or Marshal Winter were about to blab it, Miz Anderson," Mrs. Jones smiled. "And my husband and I both felt it wasn't our place to say anything."

"And I want to see Maureen and Elsa's faces when they see the real Hannah," Teresa chimed in. She hugged Hannah carefully. "And your hair doesn't look too bad at all, Hannah."

"It's grown some since I cut it," Hannah told her. "I just hadn't realized how much. It's still do short to do much with, though. Aunt Annie pinned it up for me yesterday, and in less than an hour, it was all over the place!"

"It looks pretty down," Teresa stated. "Come see this new shipment of dress goods. And yes, the green taffeta is still here!"

"Oh good, because I have plans for that taffeta!"

"How did we get this job?" Cimarron grimaced, leaning against one corner of the counter while the ladies proceeded to pick apart Anse's entire stock.

"I volunteered," Dan reminded. "It beats digging holes or swinging a hammer, and I get to see Teresa."

"So we get to cool our heels for hours, waiting to cart half this place out to the wagon."

"You gotta admit, Hannah in a dress and without the chicken skin is a lot nicer to look at than HL's scars and baggy britches," Dan pointed out. "And I reckon to get a new shirt while I'm here. I'll need it, taking Teresa to the Fourth of July dance."

"If she says she'll go with you," Cimarron snorted.

"There's a point. Hey Teresa?"

"Yes Dan?" Teresa turned, a bolt of bright red material in her hands.

"Two things. First, I think that colour would look real pretty on you," Dan smiled. "Second, will you go to the Fourth of July dance with me?"

"Thank you, and of course I will," Teresa smiled back at him, then turned to her mother. "Could I have this to make a dress for the dance, Momma?"

"Yes you may," Mrs Jones nodded. "Dan has a very good eye." Dan grinned smugly at Cimarron. Cimarron scowled.

"Aunt Annie, may I go to the school with Teresa to get Frannie?" Hannah asked much later. Dan and Cimarron were just loading the last of the parcels into the wagon. The General Store looked like a few mini-twisters had gotten inside.

"Of course," Annie nodded. "I'll drive Mrs. Jones home, and meet you there. And yes, you boys may go with the girls."

"Who is that?" Jennifer was the first to see the four teens coming toward the school. Cimarron was trailing behind the other three. Dan had Teresa on one arm, and Hannah on the other.

"What a terrible hairstyle," Elsa sniffed. "Totally unfashionable, and far too short for a lady."

"Hannah! Hannah!" Frannie darted past the two of them and Maureen. "Hi Hannah! You look much nicer in a dress, without those icky scars!"

"Thank you, Frannie," Hannah laughed. "It feels nicer, too. How's Cupcake? Not climbing out anymore windows, I hope."

"No, she learned better."

Cimarron continued on to Elsa's side.

"Who's Dan's new friend?" Elsa demanded lightly.

"They've been friends for a while now," Cimarron replied. "That's Hannah, Miz Anderson's niece."

"Why is her arm in a sling?" Jennifer asked.

"That's the arm she took a knife in two weeks ago, saving my neck," Cimarron said.

"I thought HL…" Maureen frowned.

"HL stands for Hannah Louise."

"No!" Maureen went white, then red, then white again. "HL is a boy!"

"HL looked like a boy. A character I created to serve a useful purpose." Hannah had heard the startled exclamation. "Jerome Parker is no longer a threat to me, or anyone else, for that matter. Therefore, Hannah can stop hiding behind HL."

"You slapped me!" Elsa's eyes narrowed.

"You were hysterical," Hannah shrugged. "Someone had to. Besides, you were giving me a headache. I didn't need that, on top of the blood I was losing."

"It wasn't my fault you got stabbed," Elsa snapped. "Young ladies don't get involved in such vulgarities as knife fights in the streets."

"Given the choice between the title of young lady and saving a friend's life, I'll go with making the same choice I did that day, Elsa," Hannah stated. "We'll leave Chinook at the General Store, Cimarron. You'll be expected home for supper." She turned, taking Frannie by the hand, and walked away.

"Of all the…" Elsa sputtered. "How dare she talk to me like that?"

"HL's been here almost two months, most of it as a boy," Jennifer's tone was sly. "In the bunkhouse?"

"Never," Cimarron said shortly. "Not even to bring in firewood or clean laundry."

"She did your laundry?"

"Miz Anderson does all the laundry," Cimarron didn't like what Jennifer seemed to be implying about Hannah.

"But to live and work surrounded by all males…" Jennifer shook her head.

"You have four brothers, and no sister."

"I don't do boy's chores!"

"Work is work. Hannah always did what she was told, no complaints. She does a good job, too," Cimarron stated.

"You're defending that…." Elsa demanded.

"She doesn't need defending. I am stating facts," Cimarron replied. "There has never been anything improper about Hannah being at the ranch, not as HL and not now."

"She wore pants!"

"You three are lucky. You've never had a sick, twisted man like Parker hounding any of you," Cimarron's voice was quiet, but with a note of controlled anger. "Hannah found a way to hide, to protect herself and escape before he ruined her. Would any of you have been able to do that?" He settled his hat back on his head. "I've got to get going. Miz Anderson doesn't like it when we're late for a meal."

"By the way, Teresa," Hannah glanced sideways at her friend. "Has Queen Elsa heard for definite about that finishing school yet?"

"Only Jennifer is supposed to know," Teresa replied. "She's not even telling Maureen yet, and she's sworn her parents to secrecy. But yes, she's going."

"If no one's supposed to know, how come you do?" Dan asked. Frannie giggled.

"'Cause I told her!" The little girl announced. "Elsa and Jennifer act like they own that old maple tree. They're always sitting there, gabbing. The tree is almost completely hollow, and there's a big hole in it, right over their heads when they're on the bench. I was in the tree, and I heard them talking."

"And when she told me, I washed and mended her dress before Momma saw it," Teresa smiled fondly at her sister. "Seems Elsa will be leaving town come mid August. She doesn't plan on telling Cimarron until after the Fourth of July dance, if at all."

"Said if she did, he might get silly and not take her to the dance," Frannie nodded. "Then she told Jennifer she might not bother at all, because it's only Cimarron, and he can't really expect her to worry about him when she's got more important things to worry about."

"That spoiled, two-faced, conceited, conniving little…" Hannah's eyes darkened. "I so do not want her to have the satisfaction of hurting him like that!"

"No matter how it happens, he is still going to be hurt and angry," Teresa pointed out.

"When it comes to Elsa, Cimarron's kinda…stupid," Dan said. "If we tell him she's going away, she'll either deny it outright, or find some way to justify why she didn't tell him. And he'll buy it, forgive her, and get mad at us."

"I know," Hannah sighed. "It just makes me so mad! Cimarron is a good person, a hard worker, and honestly likes the twit. She doesn't deserve such a decent man. He deserves a lot better than a lying little user like that dolt Elsa!"

"Hannah Louise Metcalf, are you sweet on Cimarron?" Teresa demanded. Hannah blushed. "You are!"

"I have been, from the start," Hannah admitted. "Not that it does me any good. First, he only saw HL, another boy. Now… now he barely looks at me at all."

"I think he's wondering if there's anything he said to HL he shouldn't have said around Hannah," Dan suggested.

"That's silly. None of you did!"

"Even when Steve told you about those gals we met last year on the trail?" Dan asked lightly.

"For heaven's sake!" Hannah snorted. "It's not as if I wasn't aware of the existence of whores before that!"

"But it's one of those subjects we aren't supposed to talk about in mixed company," Teresa pointed out. "It doesn't matter if we talk about them in one group, and the boys talk about them in another. Miz Anderson expects her boys to be gentlemen."

"It's not like that crew is ever out of control, even without my aunt or Mr. Nightlinger around," Hannah said. "Oh, let's drop it. Until Elsa either leaves or blows it on her own, I don't stand a chance. Maybe not even then."

"Maybe we can hurry things along a little," Teresa glanced over her shoulder. Cimarron, now mounted, was heading in their direction. A few feet ahead was Edna Wrainwright.

"Teresa, you are as devious as I am!" Hannah brightened. "Oh bother! She doesn't know about me yet!"

"Hello Mrs Wrainwright," Dan hailed the woman politely.

"Hello Dan, Teresa," Mrs. Wrainwright looked at Hannah.

"Mrs Wrainwright, you haven't met Miz Anderson's niece, Hannah, properly yet," Dan smiled. "This is Hannah Louise."

"I didn't realize you were in town yet, although I can understand…" Edna broke off as the name registered. "Hannah Louise? HL?"

"Yes ma'am," Hannah nodded. "Now you know just how frightened of Jerome Parker I was."

"I can only begin to imagine, you poor child," Edna said sympathetically.

"Well, it's over now," Hannah shrugged. "And, in any case, I understand you're to be congratulated. Elsa, to attend one of those posh young ladies schools. They're very particular, I understand."

"But…"Edna looked confused.

"Oh, we heard it straight from Elsa," Teresa assured her. Dan noticed Cimarron had stiffened, his whole face going dark. And Elsa and Jennifer weren't far behind him. Close enough already to hear what was being said.

"Oh!" Edna relaxed, smiling. "Yes, Miss Prior's School is very selective. We were thrilled when the acceptance letter came. Of course, we'll have to start east early, and stop in Philadelphia to make sure Elsa's wardrobe is quite up to par."

"And just where is Miss Prior's School?" Cimarron asked, his voice carefully neutral.

"New York City. Didn't Elsa tell you?" Once again, Edna looked a bit worried.

"No, Mother, I didn't," Elsa said through clenched teeth. She could hardly pass it off as a lie, or even laugh it off as a slim chance, now her mother had confirmed it. She'd have to do some fancy talking to keep Cimarron sweet. She'd kill the person who let her secret out in the first place!

"You'll have to head east pretty early, to get your shopping done before classes start," Hannah was enjoying watching Elsa squirm.

"Mid August by the latest," Edna agreed.

"Come on, you two. Miz Anderson is waiting on us," Dan tipped his hat to Edna. "Good day, ma'am."

When Hannah dared glance back over her shoulder, Elsa was batting her eyes up at Cimarron, talking rapidly. Hannah snorted.

Cimarron arrived back at the ranch barely in time to wash up before supper. He was silent and preoccupied during the meal. Occasionally, he shot enigmatic glances at Hannah, who usually pretended not to notice. Exposing Elsa had been the right thing to do for his sake. For Hannah's own, she was very afraid she'd burnt her last bridge with him.

That night, she sat in the dark on the porch, and tried to play her flute. Because of her injury, she hadn't touched it in two weeks. Her arm wasn't really up to a long session tonight. With a sigh, she lowered the flute to her lap.

"Why did you set Elsa up like that this afternoon?" Cimarron stepped out of the darker shadows at the side of the porch.

"She set herself up, Cimarron," Hannah carefully put her sling back on.

"If you knew about the school, you could have told me in private, instead of embarrassing her in public."

"No we couldn't. You wouldn't have believed us," Hannah shook her head. "Even now, you're finding excuses for her, or accepting the ones she's given you, aren't you?"

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Because Elsa rarely, if ever, told you the truth about how things stood between you," Hannah almost snapped. "You go around thinking the moon, sun and stars hang on that girl's every word. Do you know what you are to her? A handy, handsome practice dummy. A local male so far below her socially, she can safely practice her flirting skills so she's at least nominally prepared to charm some decent-looking rich fool when she gets to New York. And that is something she and her mother have been planning for at least three years."

"You don't know Elsa…"

"And you think you do? Sorry, my friend, you only know what she chooses to tell you," Hannah said bluntly. "I grew up with someone just like Elsa Wrainwright. The face she shows eligible or beneficial males is very different from what everyone else sees. Elsa never cared what she said in front of a scarred, mute flute player and other girls, because she figured HL couldn't tell you, and Teresa and Frannie wouldn't. Elsa is convinced Teresa's interest in Dan runs no deeper than her own interest in you, since Dan's not rich, either."

"Elsa isn't like that, Hannah," Cimarron insisted. "And her parents like me…"

"As long as there's nothing serious between you and their darling! Cimarron, listen to yourself, for God's sake," Hannah sighed. "You're a good man. You work hard, you're well mannered most of the time, you're generally intelligent, you take most people as you find them, and you're good looking. You've earned the respect you have here. But to people like the Wrainwrights, you are still just a dusty saddle tramp, with no family name, no social connections, no advantages. They demand the money, the connections, the impressive name…all the things that really don't mean a damn thing in the long run. Just look at Jerome. He had the money, all the right affiliations…and he was still a sick, twisted bastard. He would have killed Aunt Annie, just because she wouldn't tell him where I was. He'd have killed you just for getting in his way!"

"I still think you're wrong about Elsa."

"Fine, don't listen to me. Look inside, and listen to yourself, if you dare," Hannah got to her feet. "But trying doing that without listening to her first." She headed for the door.

"Hannah, did you mean what you said?" He stopped her. "About saving a friend's life?"

"Your life is more important than what other people think of me, Cimarron," she replied quietly. "I thought you knew me better than to have to ask."

"I don't know Hannah at all."

"Under the skin, HL was always Hannah," she informed him. "Good night, Cimarron." She vanished inside.

"You've been quiet the last few days, Cimarron," Jebediah had tapped Cimarron to ride fence with him. "Got something on your mind?"

"That's an understatement," Cimarron snorted. "Elsa is going to a fancy girl's school in New York. She wasn't planning to tell me face-to-face. She says she couldn't face the thought of hurting me. Hannah and Dan both claim it's not my feelings she was worried about, it was the dance. That Elsa didn't want to end up without an escort for it."

"What do you think?"

"That's part of the problem. I don't know anymore," the youth admitted. "Elsa has lied to me before, and always came up with some excuse I bought at the time. Looking back, I think I was a damn fool. Thing is, this time, I didn't buy it, but it didn't bother me as much as it might have."

"Why do you think that is?" Jebediah probed.

"Maybe because Elsa isn't as important to me as I thought she was," Cimarron shrugged.

"Then why are you treating Hannah and Dan as if this argument with Elsa is all their fault?"

"I don't mean to. I'm still trying to work things out in my head," Cimarron sighed. "Dan's never lied to me. None of the fellas here have. And it's not like any of them were interested in Elsa themselves. I should have kept those things in mind. I can't figure Hannah out, Mr. Nightlinger. She confused me as HL, and it's only gotten worse since I found out she's a girl!"

"What did you find so confusing about HL?" Jebediah asked. Cimarron shifted uncomfortably in the saddle. "Let me guess. You caught yourself watching the way HL moved, wondering what he was hiding in those baggy clothes…"

"It got to where I couldn't relax around HL much at all," Cimarron admitted.

"It was because part of your head was trying to tell you it was looking at a girl," Jebediah smiled slightly.

"I thought I was losing my mind…or at least my self-respect."

"Now, why is it worse, knowing she's a girl?"

"Because Hannah can do, and does things well, that I'm not used to seeing a girl do at all," Cimarron informed him. "She rides better than almost everyone I know. Her aim is lousy, but she can shoot a gun and she's meticulous about cleaning them. She was so terrified of Parker, she hid herself and ran, yet she got between us and took a knife meant for my back. And she'd do it again. She doesn't seem to care what people think of her…"

"What some people think of her matters very much to her," Jebediah amended. "Including the two of us. As for her fear, and saving you…her fear for herself was a long running nightmare. The results of him winning would just get worse over time. Her fear for you was instant, and she reacted to it, rather than thinking about it."

"In a way, I am glad of that. I just wish she hadn't gotten hurt in the process."

"Her arm is healing. The nightmares are fading," Jebediah said. "I think she finds the price was worth it."

"I thought you wanted the green taffeta for your dress for July?" Annie asked, watching Hannah work on her party dress.

"Too warm," Hannah shook her head. "Teresa, Lizzie and I came up with an idea."

"Oh let me guess. Lizzie's dress is white?" Annie's lips twitched.

"Have to admit, we'll make a patriotic-looking picture!" Hannah grinned. "I still have plans for the taffeta, but for the harvest dance, when the boys get back from Belfush."

"I hear Cimarron isn't taking Elsa to the Fourth of July dance."

"He isn't taking anyone. He wasn't even going to go, but Slim and Steve convinced him otherwise," Hannah shrugged, as if it didn't matter to her.

"Dan's taking Teresa."

"And Bob is taking Lizzie. I think Jimmy asked Helen."

"What about you?"

"Ah, I will be the most envied girl in town!" Hannah laughed. "I have two escorts! Slim and Steve."

"That will certainly cause a stir when you walk in," Annie said dryly. "Some of the girls will hate you for it."

"Maureen O'Connell already does, only she doesn't know it's me," Hannah said. "Once she got over the shock of me being female, she went right back to trying to catch Slim's attention."

"Fickle," Annie shook her head, eyes dancing. "I hope your little plan doesn't cause trouble between Slim and Steve."

"It better not! It's their plan, not mine!"

"What about Cimarron?"

"Despite the fact he's refused to ask Elsa to the dance, he's apparently still stuck on her," Hannah sighed. "So it doesn't matter. If I get one dance out of him, I'll count myself lucky."

"How's your arm?" Cimarron helped Hannah down from the wagon.

"Good as new!" She beamed. "Stitches are out, no more restrictions. Means I can groom and ride my own horse!"

"Magnus will be thrilled," Cimarron made a face. "He doesn't mind me brushing him, but if he sees a saddle blanket or saddle in my hand, all bets are off." Hannah laughed. "You spoiled a perfectly good horse, young lady."

"Magnus is not spoiled," Hannah tossed her curls. "He just knows I think he's the most perfect horse…"

"Like I said, spoiled," Cimarron teased her, grinning. Hannah rolled her eyes. "Anything else new and exciting in town?"

"There's a new family just moved in," Hannah nodded, as the two of them began unhitching the team. "Rory Douglas is a blacksmith, and is he ever a mountain! His son is almost as big, and he's not quite twenty. Malcolm works with his father. Aileen Douglas reminds me of a little songbird. Then there's Linnet, Marian, and Nora."

"Plenty of work around for a good blacksmith," Cimarron said.

"Oh, and Elsa Wrainwright demanded to know if you've been sick, since you haven't been around to see her in over a month," Hannah led Lark from the wagon. "She wasn't happy when Aunt Annie told her you've been perfectly healthy. She wanted me to bring you a note."

"Hope you told her you aren't a message girl," Cimarron snorted, following with Robin.

"Something like that." Hannah wasn't sure telling him she'd laughed in Elsa's face was a good idea. They'd been getting on much better the last few weeks, and she wasn't risking it.

"Want to go to the dance with me?" He didn't look at her as he asked.

"What, so you can keep me between you and Elsa?" she snorted. "You are weeks too late in asking, in any case. I already have my plans for the dance. I'll save you one, though."

"Just please tell me you didn't say yes to David Wrainwright," Cimarron requested. "I know he asked."

"And I laughed in his face," she replied promptly. "If he honestly thought, for one second, that I'd forget how he treated me with that chicken skin on my face, he's not only delusional, he's down-right stupid!"

Despite every gentle probe, Cimarron couldn't find out who Hannah was going with.

"Hey Cimarron, mind holding that, not leaning on it?" Slim's teasing voice cut in on his thoughts. "What's with you, anyhow?"

"Do you know who's taking Hannah to the dance?" Cimarron asked. Hannah hadn't told him. Dan had told him to ask Hannah.

"Yup," Slim pounded a new fence pole into place, and started back-filling the hole.

"Who?"

"You'll find out at the dance," Slim replied.

"You're honestly not going to tell me?" Cimarron was surprised. He and Slim had not gotten off to a good start when they'd first met, but they'd become the best of friends since.

"I am honestly not going to tell you," Slim agreed cheerfully. "If Hannah wanted you to know, Hannah would tell you. You've obviously asked her about it, since you know she's going with someone."

"I asked her to go with me. She told me I asked too late," Cimarron grumbled. "She also knew I was asking her so Elsa would have to deal with her to get to me."

"Was Hannah mad about that?"

"She seemed to think it was funny."

"You're lucky she has such a good sense of humor. Most gals would have slapped your face for something like that," Slim pointed out.

"Hannah isn't like most gals."

"No, she doesn't appear to be," Slim agreed. "Come on, we're wasting daylight. We still got a dozen posts to go here."

"My word, just look at you three!" Mr. Jones smiled as Teresa, Hannah, and Lizzie came down the stairs from Teresa's room. "There are going to be three very lucky young gentlemen knocking on my door…"

"Four, Poppa," Teresa grinned. "Slim and Steve are both coming for Hannah."

"Though I may end up with only Steve by the time the night is over," Hannah chuckled. "Slim had a very hard time not staring at Linnet Douglas all day."

"You don't sound as if it bothers you, Hannah," Mr. Jones noted.

"Why should it? Slim is my friend, and I like what I've seen of Linnet so far," Hannah shrugged. "The whole idea behind me having two escorts going in tonight is to let a certain female know she is not the local favorite she thinks she is. It wasn't my idea, but I can't say I mind it."

"Hey Steve," Slim noticed the time as he, Steve, Homer, Hardy, and Cimarron stood by the still-empty dance floor. "We better get a move on."

"Where are you two going?" Cimarron demanded.

"We aren't attending stag tonight," Steve grinned. "Don't eat all the food before we get back!"

"Steve doesn't even dance," Cimarron looked at Homer and Hardy.

"Hannah and Miz Anderson have been teaching some of us," Homer replied. "It's kinda fun."

Elsa arrived with her parents before Slim and Steve returned. A few couples, including Homer and Bob's sister Margaret, were already on the dance floor.

"Since when does Homer Wheems know how to dance?" Elsa demanded of Jennifer, who met her by the door.

"I don't know, but he sure is good at it now," Jennifer replied. "You look stunning, Elsa! Cimarron won't be able to ignore you for long."

"Is he here yet?"

"Over by the tables," Jennifer pointed. Cimarron was scanning the room. He saw Elsa, and she smiled. He turned completely away without even acknowledging her. Jennifer bit her lip.

"He's still in a snit," Elsa pouted. "Well, he's here, and so am I. I'll just have to sweet talk him out of it. I am not going to the town picnic in two weeks without an escort, nor am I going to have it said he ditched me!" She headed in his direction, confident she could bring him back to heel in short order. She was the prettiest girl in town, and she had the best dress. She could have any male under twenty-five at her side with a smile, and a number of the older ones, as well. Or so she believed.

"We're about to get company," Hardy warned. Cimarron tensed, but did not turn.

"Hello Cimarron," Elsa glided up to his side, and claimed his arm. "Hardy, be a dear and fetch me a glass of punch."

"I'm not here to wait on you, Elsa," Hardy shook his head. "And right now, I am waiting for someone."

"Cimarron, I really need to speak to you," Elsa batter her eyelashes at him.

"So talk," Cimarron shrugged. "It isn't going to change anything. You're going to have to find some other fool to do tricks for you, Elsa. This one smartened up." He pulled away and turned toward the door. "Hardy, here come Dan and Teresa."

"Now that is a pretty dress," Hardy grinned. "Look, Lizzie's matches it."

"I wonder…" Cimarron began. That's when he drew a sharp breath, his eyes narrowing slightly. Elsa turned to see what he was looking at.

Hannah had just entered between Slim and Steve, obviously with both. Her blue dress, Teresa's red dress, and Lizzie's white dress were all the same style.

"How utterly tacky," Elsa snorted. "Plain and home made…"

"Simple and sweet," Hardy corrected. "And they aren't trying to look years older than they are. And if Hannah looks so tacky, why is your brother practically drooling?" He tapped Cimarron on the back, and headed over to greet his friends. Cimarron started after him.

"Cimarron!" Elsa grabbed his arm. He shook her off.

"Don't waste your evening on a nameless ranch hand, Elsa," he said, not even looking at her as he walked away.

Slim and Hannah were already on the dance floor.

"It takes two of you to bring Hannah to a dance?" Cimarron asked Steve.

"Yup, since we're not protecting our own interests," Steve nodded. "You meet the Douglas family yet?"

"Not yet."

"Come on, I'll introduce you," Steve offered. "But I am asking Marian to dance, so don't even think about it."

"May I have this dance?" Cimarron asked softly, stepping up behind Hannah. A waltz had just been announced. "I promise I won't step on your toes."

"I wasn't dancing when David did that," Hannah grimaced. "You're not as clumsy as he is, in any situation."

"I think that was a compliment," Cimarron's eyes twinkled. "Steve claims it takes two fellas to bring you to a dance."

"They aren't protecting their own interests," Hannah shrugged. "They brought me, but it looks like I may be on my own going home. " Slim was dancing with Linnet Douglas, and Steve with her sister Marian.

"Steve said something like that," Cimarron glanced at his friends, then focused back on Hannah. "If I'd asked you first…"

"You would have been protecting your own interests, so I wouldn't have needed a second escort," Hannah replied.

"My own interests, hu?" he smiled.

"Of course. Protecting yourself from Elsa," she said lightly. Cimarron laughed.

"What about your ego?" he asked.

"My ego isn't quite that frail," she told him. "I couldn't let it be, could I?"

"You could now."

"No, I'm well out of the habit now," she shook her head. "My ego has different demands these days."

"Oh?"

"These days, my ego is more secure, so it doesn't need the fanciest, most expensive dress," she explained. "It doesn't need to make a grand entrance on the arm of the handsomest man. It doesn't need total control, as long as it isn't fighting someone whole does. I don't need to hide anymore, but I don't need to be the belle of the ball. I am interested in having one fella to concentrate on, who wants to concentrate on me. There are some people who are fairly important to me, and I know I'm fairly important to them. I'm not looking for broader horizons."

"So you have everything you want."

"Mostly," she looked up at him. "There seems to be one hold out, but for now, that's alright. I can wait a bit to figure it out. I'm young, and I'm not going anywhere."

"Oh yeah?" Cimarron challenged lightly, glancing over her head. He danced her out the door.

"Cimarron!" Hannah protested lightly.

"Now, maybe I can do something about that one holdout," Cimarron backed her into a corner of the balcony railing. "I think I like the idea of my girl being one of my best friends."

"You think?" she demanded.

"I'm positive," he smiled.

"Well, isn't this a cozy little scene?" Elsa demanded from behind Cimarron.

"It was, until you stuck your nose out," Hannah's tone was still light. "Come on, Cimarron. Let's go tell Slim and Steve they're free to walk the Douglas girls home tonight." She wrapped her hands around his arm. "Enjoy your evening, Elsa."

"Cimarron, you can't be serious!" Elsa protested. "This…tomboy over me?"

"A real cowgirl," Cimarron smiled down at Hannah. "Cowgirls are perfect for cowboys, Elsa. Have a nice time in New York."

They re-entered the dance, leaving Elsa staring after them.