Ok, I give in! Here's another story for you enjoy before my sixteen years later one!

Colorado Springs

1876

Preston A. Lodge III was rather pleased with himself. It was quite a coup in terms of banking to have managed to secure the services of such a well-respected and well known member of the New York community. Not being from that city himself, he had had to rely on his counterparts to tell him of the gentleman's prowess and success and from what he had heard, it was a miracle that the man in question hadn't already been elected to Congress. Yes it was indeed quite a coup, although he doubted very much if anyone in Colorado Springs would recognise it for the coup it was, them all being frontier people after all.

"Preston!" the sharp voice of his wife brought him out of his reverie and caused him to turn around quickly, knocking a stack of very important papers to the ground. As he scrambled to pick them up, he caught sight of the toe of Sarah's very expensive new shoe and sighed heavily.

"You don't have to sneak up on me," he protested, gathering the pages together and dumping them rather unceremoniously on the desk.

"I didn't," Sarah replied, "I've been calling to you for the last five full minutes only you've chosen to ignore me." She glanced around, "This room is ridiculously untidy."

"Yes well, it is a place of business my dear, and good business requires a man to be organised," Preston replied pompously, "I have everything I need close to hand."

"Other than your ears obviously," Sarah said, "Cook tells me that dinner is ready."

Preston's stomach grumbled in response, "I had no idea how late it was," he replied, crossing the room and backing her out of the door. He closed and locked it behind him, "I do hope she's made something quite delicious."

"Stew, I believe," Sarah replied as they walked down the hallway towards the stairs, "although really, Preston, it's high time we had our own dining room. Eating with the guests is dreadfully common."

"Perhaps if you spent a little less money on shoes and dresses from Boston, then we could afford to expand the Spring Chateau a little further and provide you with a private dining room," he replied, nodding to several of the guests as they walked past.

"What would you have me wear?" Sarah retorted, "surely you don't expect me to dress in material from Mr Bray's store, do you? I mean, it might be all right for these frontier women, but I was raised in Boston!"

"As was Michaela Quinn," he reminded her, "and Emma Jane Lawson in New York."

"Yes well," Sarah sniffed, "I doubt very much you would enjoy my behaving like either of them. Michaela Quinn struts around doing a man's job and not apologising for it or her wilful manner and behaviour. And as for Emma Jane Lawson, well, she lives in a drinking den and is married to one of the most ill-mannered men I have ever had the misfortune to meet." She sat down at the table, "Oh I know you'll say it's a hotel the same as this, but really Preston, it isn't."

"I'm well aware of that fact, darling."

"I mean…the rougher element of town frequent it regularly. And there are always fights and the entertainment…" she raised her eyebrows, "I refuse to this very day to understand how the woman can possibly live there."

Preston picked up his cutlery as the dinner arrived, "Well, no-one's asking you to live there, Sarah, so you need not understand."

Sarah paused and looked at him, "Are you mocking me?"

"Of course not."

"I think you are."

"No, I'm not," he lowered his voice, "You're very lucky that you made such a good match that you don't need to live in a place like the Gold Nugget."

"Huh," Sarah mumbled, "I still was persuaded to come and live with you in this…town. I don't know what came over me."

Preston didn't want to remind her that she spent most of her time, and his money travelling back and forth to Boston so that she was very rarely in Colorado Springs for any more than a few months at a time.

"Are you listening to me?" she demanded.

"I'm sorry, what?"

Sarah sighed, "Honestly, Preston, I don't know why we bother having dinner together at all. Your mind is always on other matters. I suppose you're still thinking about him."

"Sarah, I can't tell you how thrilled I am at the prospect of working with him!" Preston's eyes lit up like a child in a candy store, "I mean, he really does have the most wonderful reputation."

"So you've said on numerous occasions. I'm just surprised he agreed to come at all. You did tell him what sort of a place this is didn't you?"

"He knows all about it," Preston waved aside her concern, "Frederick Brown was able to tell him all about it, naturally."

"Well, he probably painted it in a very favourable light seeing as his daughter lives here," Sarah commented.

"You're not going to dampen my mood, Sarah," he responded, "You might not see the potential in this appointment, but I do. It's going to put my little bank on the map and show everyone in town, and in Colorado, that we mean to do good business."

Sarah calmly speared another piece of meat, "I do wonder whether the wonderful Mr Frank Williams won't be bored out of his mind in this little town. He really must be used to much more excitement."

SSSS

It was a rather less sedate dinner time in the Gold Nugget. The hotel was completely booked up and it seemed as though everyone had chosen this precise hour to drink in the bar. Far removed from the tranquil gentility of the Spring Chateau, it was more like trying to hold back a stampeding herd.

"You'll just have to wait your turn!" Emma Jane Lawson shouted at the men who were all clamouring for drinks, "I've only got one pair of hands!"

"Where's Hank tonight then?" one of them asked.

"Good question," she replied through gritted teeth, wondering exactly where her husband was. He had told her he was going to collect the new shipment of whisky from Loren's store, but that was over an hour ago.

"C'mon, Emma Jane!" another one moaned, "Got a man dyin' of thirst here."

"So die," she retorted, "there's at least three people in front of you." She deftly poured three whiskies and sent them sailing down the bar. A trick she had learnt over the last nineteen years.

"Emma…"

"Can't you go to Grace's café and have dinner first?" she pleaded, "Come back later."

"But I want a drink now!" the man demanded.

"Need a hand?" She turned to see Jake coming behind the bar.

"Oh, thanks Jake," she replied gratefully, "I know it's your evening off, but I'd be very grateful. I'll kill Hank when I get my hands on him."

Jake grinned and started to serve alongside her, until everyone was finally happy. Sighing, she leaned back against the counter and ran a hand across her brow, "Is it just me, or is it absolutely roasting in here?"

Jake looked at her quizzically, "Ain't goin' through one of them womens' things, are you?"

"What womens' things?" she retorted.

"You know…the change," he emphasised the last two words as if he were referring to the plague.

"I'll thank you not to ask me such questions," Emma Jane replied, "I'm thirty-five years old, not fifty-five!"

Jake shrugged, "Whatever you say."

"And I'm not always hot," she continued, "but it's very warm in here." Her protests sounded feeble, "I mean, isn't it?"

"Ok," he replied.

"But…"

"Why don't you go outside and get a breath of air. Maybe you can find Hank and kill him. I'll watch the bar."

"Thank you," Emma Jane replied, taking off her apron, dumping it on the bar and stepping out from behind it. She hurried over to the doors and threw them open, glad to be stepping out into the cooler evening air. She pushed a lock of hair away from her damp forehead and ran her hand under the back of her hair to pull it away from her neck. It wasn't true, she wasn't always hot, and besides, she was far too young to be going through any kind of change, wasn't she?

She was just thinking about perhaps going to see Michaela about it, when she saw Hank and Loren emerge from the store, deep in conversation. Annoyance took over and she strode over.

"Look out," Loren said, catching sight of her.

"Where have you been?" Emma Jane demanded, "In fact, don't answer that, I know full well. You've been gossiping with Loren like two old women, haven't you?"

"Don't drag me into this!" Loren protested.

"What's all the yellin' for?" Hank asked, "Ain't like I disappeared off the face of the earth."

"You might as well have done!" she retorted, "I've been stuck in there with a restless crowd on my own for the best part of an hour. If Jake hadn't come to help me behind the bar I think I would have faded away." She folded her arms, "It's like an oven in that bar."

"Ya don't look too well done," he joked.

Emma Jane didn't smile back, "It's not funny, Hank," she replied, "I don't think it's too much to ask for you be there when you say you're going to be there. I didn't even get a chance to check on the children and you know what Will's been like today. He's been coughing like an old man!"

Hank's smile dropped, "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, just get back over there and help me!" With that, she turned and strode away back over towards the hotel.

"Got you right under her thumb, don't she?" Loren joked.

Hank didn't join him, "She's right though." He tossed away his cigarette, "See ya." He made his way back over to the Gold Nugget and inside the bar where Emma Jane was clearing away some dirty glasses.

When she saw him, she mouthed, "Thank you," and then headed for the stairs to check on the children. She hadn't been exaggerating about Will, it hadn't been one of his good days. His cough had been very bad and she had almost run for Michaela before reminding herself that there was nothing she could really do for him. It was just a matter of looking after him.

She made her way to the children's room where she had left them to play and paused at the door. Victoria was directing Will on how to build the perfect structure with some building blocks. Emma Jane had to smile. Victoria was fiercely protective of her little brother, a fact she was proud of. It reminded her of her own relationship with Thomas.

"How are you two doing?" she asked, walking in and crouching down on the floor with them.

"Fine," Victoria replied, "I'm teachin' Will how to make a castle."

"A castle, really?" Emma Jane feigned impressed, "who's going to live there."

"We are," Will chipped in, shooting her a radiant smile.

Emma Jane grinned back and pulled him into her lap. As they watched Victoria add her own unique design to the structure, Emma Jane rested her chin on the top of Will's dark head and kissed it gently. She loved him with every inch of her being, not more than she did Victoria, but perhaps more fiercely, for she knew there was every possibility she might lose him. Although it had been six years since his traumatic birth, and her vision, she hadn't stopped thinking about it once. She still remembered the words of Lydia and Abigail, trying to get her to choose not to stay with Hank. She was still sure she had made the right decision, yet sometimes, she wondered.

"Can we play cowboys and Indians?" Will asked, turning in her lap to look at her, his eyes begging, "Please?"

"It's time for your dinner first," she replied, "maybe after."

"Will Pa play?" he asked again.

"I don't know," she replied, "but you can always ask him." He grinned at her again and she forced herself to smile back. Sometimes, she hated seeing him smile, because he looked nothing like Hank.

SSSS

He had read the financial papers at least twice and yet the second time around, had found things he had missed. A whole story in fact. But as he started to read them for a third time, he had to stop. Cursing himself for not bringing more papers, he folded it up and placed it on the seat beside him. The scenery would do just as well.

Frank Williams was still asking himself if he had done the right thing. Upping sticks and moving to some backwater frontier town in the middle of nowhere to work in a bank he had never set eyes on. It seemed like madness. Many of his colleagues at Brown and West had thought the same, unable to fathom why he should wish to leave New York.

It was when he thought about Olivia that he realised he was doing the right thing. He had loved her, so very much, and to be betrayed so cruelly was almost too much to bear. He didn't want to run the risk of meeting her in the street anymore, especially not on the arm of her new love. At least she had been kind enough to give him the ring back. It had cost a pretty penny. It was his new start in Colorado Springs that was giving him the urge to go on, and not wallow in self pity.

It had been pure chance that he had been speaking to Preston A. Lodge II who had told him of his son's bank in Colorado Springs. It was a small outlet, of course, Lodge had told him, but there was also a hotel that was part of the Lodge empire and endless possibilities. Frank had been rather taken with the idea, and when he had gone to Frederick Brown to discuss it, he had fully expected to be laughed out of the office. Instead, to his surprise, Frederick had laughed and asked him did he not remember that Colorado Springs was where his daughter, Emma Jane, lived with her husband? Frank had had to reply that yes, he had forgotten that fact. Frederick had assured him it was a nice town, although would take a bit of getting used to. He had promised to wire Emma Jane to tell her, and he was sure she would make him most welcome.

Frank knew little about Emma Jane, except that she was married to a man from the town and had two children. He had never had the pleasure of meeting her, but he looked forward to it. From the one occasion he had met Preston A. Lodge III's wife Sarah, at a lunch in Boston, he had found her rather standoffish. He only hoped Emma Jane wouldn't be the same.

SSSS

"Will! Victoria! Time for bed!" Emma Jane stepped out of the back of the hotel to where her children were playing with Hank, "Come on, hurry up!"

"Just five more minutes?" Victoria pleaded.

"No, it's bath night, come on!" she stood her ground.

"C'mon, Emma, it's still light. Let 'em have a bit longer," Hank protested from where he was crouched with Will on his shoulders.

"No," she repeated, "now. Come on!" Reluctantly, Will and Victoria made their way over to where she was standing, "Go on, inside. I'll be in in a minute." They disappeared and she turned back to Hank, "That wasn't very helpful."

"They're just kids," he told her, "they wanna play."

"It's way past their bedtime as it is!" she told him, "it's not good for them to be up so late, especially on a school night. I don't want Theresa Slicker to be able to say anything about my children."

"She ain't gonna," Hank replied, stepping up in front of her and putting his arms around her waist. "S'ides, more we tire 'em out, more likely they'll fall asleep and give us some peace," he pulled her into him and made to kiss her.

"Stop it," she protested pulling away, "honestly. Don't you ever think about anything else?"

"Like what?" he replied.

"Like the fact that maybe if you pulled your weight, I wouldn't end up so tired and annoyed every night." She glared at him, "We're barely breaking even in this place, Hank, what with the Spring Chateau and everything."

"Hotel's fully booked, and ya said it was jumpin' at dinner time."

"It was, for once. But it isn't always like that. That's the first night this week we've been as busy. I've seen the books. We're spending more than we're making."

He shrugged, "It'll be a'right," he moved to kiss her again, "Promised ya we'd be a'right."

Emma Jane moved back, "Well, a promise is one thing. But unless you want us all to go under, you're going to have to think about something that doesn't involve using the lower half of your body!" With that, she turned on her heel and stormed back inside.