Disclaimer: I don't own Frank, or any of the characters from the film "Hidalgo". I am just giving him a few story, with a few new friends. I hope that's all right with everyone . . .

Part 9

"Honey," Frank ventured, holding Lilian close. "I have to check this guy's horse." It wasn't a very romantic thing to say but he had to know something more about the stranger.

She smiled at him. "Yeah, I know you do. But do you have to, right this minute?" She was warm, and close to him, and he felt comfortable with her there. But yes, he had to. He loosened his hold on her and she stepped back, uncomplaining.

"Give me just a minute. I'll be right back."

"I'll keep watch." She stepped backwards to the door. "But I'm counting you down on that minute."

"Yes, Ma'am." He saluted her, making her eyes dance and her grin widen, and he had to use all his considerable self-discipline not to go to her immediately. He pulled on the reins of the large, black horse and tied him off in a stall.

He was a big, well-muscled gelding, and he had been expertly cared for. He'd come a fair way, judging by the mud splatters and the sweat on him, and Frank felt down each of his legs, checking for any problems. He'd taken note of the animal's gait, is this the right word? I'm not sure!!! and he seemed sound. The horse was marked, a running B brand on his flank, matching the mark on the saddlebags.

For a moment, Frank felt bad about opening them. But his instincts told him something was wrong about the man – the way his gun was strapped, or the way he rode or walked or looked. If someone had asked him, he couldn't have pinned down his impression to any one thing. But something was wrong and he felt he ought to help out Mr. Watson in any way he could. He unbuckled one saddlebag and glanced inside. Spare shirt, tinder box, knife and fork, tin plate and cup. Nothing else. The man was travelling, but travelling light.

He patted the horse's rump and moved around to the other side. He had just started to ease the first strap through its buckle when he heard a quiet, "Frank," from Lilian. He did up the buckle again, grabbed a currycomb and began to work it down the horse's leg. The stranger was back, a whole lot sooner than he'd expected.

"That's all right, son – I'll take him now. You given him anything to eat?"

"Not yet," said Frank, trying not to bridle at the casual use of the patronising name. "You didn't give me much time."

"No. Didn't take as long as I thought. Well, I guess he can wait till I get to town." The stranger untied his horse and led him out, leaving Frank standing with the curry comb in his hand.

He passed Lilian, who had to stand back out of the way of the horse, and Frank heard, "Ma'am," as the man walked away. Frank threw down the brush and walked quickly to her side. In the bright sunshine, the stranger wheeled his horse, mounted and kneed him into a walk.

"Be seein' you both, I reckon," the man said, grinning at them. He didn't say anything else as he rode away.

Lilian leaned into Frank. "Should we go back to the house, make sure everything's all right?" she asked. "Or can I meet your horse first?" She smiled, and he knew which option he was meant to choose.

"You didn't trust him either?" he said, taking up the currycomb again and going over to Hidalgo. "Yeah, you're a good boy, ain't you," he soothed, running his fingers down his horse's nose. Hidalgo nodded his head. Frank laughed softly, glancing at Lilian, who was leaning back against the stall railing. She grinned back.

"He always agree with you?"

"Nah. Mostly we just get along best we can, him puttin' up with my faults, me puttin' up with his."

"Like a marr – like old friends, huh?" She laughed at what she had been going to say, then coughed, then laughed again, until her eyes were watering.

He looked at her, a slow smile quirking the corner of his mouth and his eyes shining. Hidalgo took advantage of his loss of attention and grabbed his hat, only to drop it casually onto the stable floor.

"Is he saying," she managed to croak out after her fit of laughing and coughing, "that you ought to take your hat off to a lady?"

"Ah, ma'am, you know, he could be. I could try askin' him." He reached down, picked up his hat and jammed it back on his head. "Quit it, now, you hear?" he told his horse. "I ain't got time for games today. You want me to look stupid in front of Miss Lilian?" He began to examine his horse, feeling down the legs and over the horse's back, running an expert hand over his muscles and sinews, looking for tell-tale signs of heat or discomfort. "Someone bin lookin' after you, little brother? You're gettin' fat and sassy."

Lilian came closer, bending to get some oats out of a bin then holding them in her open hand.

"Watch out, ma'am," Frank warned. "He'll nip ya if he don't take a likin' to ya." He watched carefully as Hidalgo nibbled delicately at the oats.

She seemed to be holding her breath and he realised he was too, sympathetically.

"Does this mean he likes me?" she asked.

"He likes his oats," he dead-panned, wanting to hear her laugh again. She didn't disappoint him but she didn't respond in words to his joke.

They played with Hidalgo for a while, both fussing over him, grooming him, and getting to know each other with his presence to make it easier. They had to stop, just once or twice, when their hands happened to touch and they had to smile at each other, or she had to cough and he had to pull her close to comfort her. Finally, she reminded him they ought to go to the house to check all was well and he noticed she looked cold, even with the hat and coat. He backed Hidalgo into his stall, though the horse danced his annoyance.

"I'll ride you tomorrow, 'Dalgo. Not today. You just settle down, now."

Hidalgo allowed himself to be settled.

Frank brushed off his coat. He had his back to Lil, but he felt her standing there. She was watching him. Not long before, he would have warned anyone off if they had been watching his back. Now he wanted her to be there and that feeling scared him a little.

"Frank?"

He lowered his head but was unable to turn around.

"Frank? What's wrong?" She sounded worried but didn't step any closer to him.

He took a deep breath, knowing his next words were important. "Lilian – how d'you feel 'bout – what d'you think 'bout . . ." He couldn't finish the sentence for the life of him.

At last she stepped closer, and he felt her hands on his shoulders. "I think it's time you stopped turning away from me, Frank."

Maybe there was a lot more she could have said, but it was enough, and then she was there close to him, as close as she could be with his busted arm in the way and they were happy in each other's company for a little while. Holding her was sweet, kissing her sweeter, and his heart hurt as he tried to let his new feelings wash out the stain of the last months. It was forgotten, it was all forgotten there in the security of their small, shared world.

They had to go back to the house eventually. They had been interrupted by two hands, who came in to tend to the other horses. It was Lil who had stepped away, and he noticed their badly-suppressed grins. He couldn't do much to save her from their stares, except gather her back to him and lead her to the house.

It was a little warmer in the bright sunlight, and the world seemed more golden, less washed-out and pallid than it had done.

"You know," she said faintly, as they walked up to the steps. "You know we're always going to get looks like that. There's no one around here who doesn't know my past."

"They don't know nothin' about you," he replied firmly. "You remember that. Life starts here, now, for us. Maybe we was trapped into some things neither of us wanted but that was before." In the sea of doubts in which he had been drowning, this was his straw – this spark of a relationship, this urging inside him to join with another, to be with another.

She looked up at him, still flushed, and nodded. Something dark between them had gone and the sunlight was blinding. They walked into the house together.

Inside, it was warm and shady. They both took off their hats, and Lil went in search of Mr. Watson. Frank walked through into the great room, shrugged off his coat and hung it back near the fire. He heard quiet voices and Lil and Mr. Watson came in, Lil's arm linked through Mr. Watson's, causing Frank a moment's pause. He nodded his greeting to the old man.

"Frank," Mr. Watson said. "You met Eagleton, then?"

"Yup. Met his horse, too, but I didn't find out much. Who is he?" Frank sat on the couch and stretched out his legs, glad to be resting again. He did not have much in the way of reserves of strength.

"Oh – a rival. In business. He's bought the next ranch downriver but it doesn't pay like this one does. Maybe because he doesn't have much of an eye for the business. Haven't you seen him in town, Lilian?"

"No – not yet. Now you say the name, though, I have heard a couple of people mention him."

"He wants to expand and buy me out. I don't feel inclined to move - this is where I intend to be when I die." Mr. Watson sat down heavily, leaving Lilian standing. She still held the fur coat in her hands. Frank was more than gratified when she came to sit next to him, setting the coat on the arm of the couch. But it was clouding his thoughts, this attraction to her, and he was barely listening as Mr. Watson told him something more about Eagleton.

Lilian looked him in the eye. "Frank? Do you want something to eat? It's past noon."

It would be like this. Life with her could be – like this, with her watching out for him, and him taking care of her. It could be so good, to come in from work with the horses on his own place, to find her there with his dinner ready and that smile, that look in her eyes. She stood but paused before she left.

"We'll be careful, Charlie. Really, we will."

Be careful about what? Frank was lost but felt too foolish about that to question either of them.

"Okay. I'll get back to my paperwork. You two take it easy this afternoon – you both look peaked still. Going out in the cold don't do my old bones any good and you need to keep warm, both of you. Looks like it might snow." And, grumbling and warning by turns, the old man left them and retreated through a door Frank guessed led into his office.

Frank waited for a moment, then Lil came to stand so close as he sat that he felt her knees against his.

"You didn't hear a word he said, did you?" she said quietly. "Frank – don't get lost now. It's important you hear this. Eagleton – we have to watch out for him. He's a danger. You hear me?"

He nodded. "I hear. Eagleton. Man with the horse. Okay."

She smiled and took his good hand in hers. "Food. You need lots of good food. You're skinnier 'n' me."

He let himself be pulled to his feet and marshalled towards the kitchen and all thoughts of Eagleton dropped away from him.

That afternoon, after a good meal, he slept again, though he hadn't wanted to. He had been planning to look over Lil's prospective horses again, maybe get someone to ride them round for him, while she got some rest. In the end, though, his need for sleep overwhelmed his good intentions and it was four o'clock before he woke again. Mr. Watson had been right about the snow. It fell, just a light flurry, graying the room.

The house had good indoor plumbing, and he made use of the facilities before he went in search of someone. Lilian was nowhere to be found in rooms he felt he could enter but he did find Mrs. Watson in the kitchen. He avoided talking to her for too long. In his current state of mind he was afraid he'd be asking the old lady for her advice about where to get married before he'd had a chance to ask Lilian what she thought about the matter. He knew it was too soon, but then, when was too soon? If you knew, just knew, then wasn't now the right time? As he returned to the great room, he snorted at his impatience.

He sat down again, taking the first book that came to hand and attempting to read it.

Lilian announced her entrance with a husky, "Hi there. Do you need feeding again?"

"No ma'am. These pants are staying up better than they've done in a while." His hands were shaking and his heart was beating a little too fast. He was afraid of saying something stupid.

"Yes? Well – I think I have to rest my throat." In that short time, her voice had become a whisper. "I'll have to write everything down."

"You come and sit here. Let me wait on you awhile. Lilian . . ."

"Yeah? Whatever it is, Frank T., spit it out so I can reply before I lose my voice altogether."

He couldn't do it. It was too soon. He'd startle her or worse, drive her away. He shook his head. "Nothin'. Nothin' important."

Did she look disappointed? Instead of coming to sit next to him, she chose a large leather chair by the fire and curled up in it, her head propped on her hand, and her elbow resting on the arm of the chair. He could not guess what she was thinking.

"Ma'am," he said, suddenly shy of her again. "You need to get to bed. Least until you got that bad throat cured."

She looked at him. "I need – I need you to say something, Frank."

His heart pounded. He felt as if he had been taking steps towards a precipice all day, and he was reluctant now to go further than he had. There was too much holding him back to make that free, bold reach for her that he knew she was inviting him to make. But how to hold back, without once again hurting her feelings. He searched for the right words and finally found something to fill the gaping silence.

"Lilian – you and me – we have to come to an – understanding." He was leaning forward, his elbow on his knee, his hand reaching out for her, though she stayed where she was.

"We have, Frank. We have. We had that, oh, I don't know when it started, a long time ago."

He knew what she meant. They had always understood each other, since the beginning of their time together, however short or long that had been. He knew she wanted him to say more but she was already beginning to cough again, a wretched, choking cough which held all her attention. It wasn't fair on her to keep her from her rest for something he couldn't say that day. Maybe tomorrow, but not tonight.

"Well, I wasn't plannin', I mean, I hadn't thought I would find someone. Lilian – please, you need to get well. When you're well, maybe then, we can think of the future. A future – for both of us." There, he'd said that much and it was as far as he was going. He wiped his hand across his mouth, trying to ease the temptation to be more specific and watching her closely.

To his enormous relief she nodded, coughed again, and began to uncurl from the chair. She smiled and came over to him, to stand as she had stood before. He put his arm round the back of her knees and they stayed like that a moment.

"I'll see you in the morning," she whispered.

He let her go, watching as she left the room, and, as the fire burned and the snow petered out, remembered how it felt to have her and hold her. He had not given his promise, nor had she given hers, but they were nearly there. Nearly a new life. It was a precious moment and, as he took himself off to his bed later that evening, it was with a hope he had not felt in a very long time.