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The canoe-shaped moon was just bright enough light for Woody to pick out the shape of the buildings around town. He rolled the sugar-candy in his mouth over his tongue and mused that Malden's tour had served its purpose. However, Woody was smart enough to know there was more than one side to every story. Adding Tallulah's observations, he wanted to take another walk around, without the whole town watching. Tallulah's sidewalks were firmly in place but there was something bad going on here. He could just feel it.

He had the town's players. Lord Townsend was on his short list...even though after his little talk with Mrs. Simmons he was a notch lower. The fancy accent and manners didn't mean anything. For a dandy he moved like a cat. Woody would bet the $500 expense money he rode in to town with that Lord Townsend had some military training somewhere in his past...and most probably he was some kind of spook. His house was dark, but that didn't mean anything. Tallulah said he was a mystery. Was he really who he said he was? Woody was going to pay the man a visit in the morning and make his own judgment.

As he swung past the laundry the strong smell of boiled bluing and lye soap from the day's labored still wafted through the night air. Woody had to smile. Mr. Vijay's no-nonsense manner made the young law man comfortable during his disastrous first night in town. He matter-of-factly listed off his services, the prices, rules and regulations...all the while trying to coerce Peter in his own tub with all kinds of vile, parasitic descriptions of what happens to a man's body if he doesn't practice proper hygiene. It didn't take a genius to see that Mr. Vijay took great care and pride in his business...and that he most definitely had an obsession with bugs. "Bug" wasn't a man that had time to deal in guns.

Across the street the saloon stood quiet. The doors were shut. Once again, there was a place that looked well cared for and profitable. Still, there were some questions about Cavanaugh. Why did he resign as sheriff? He seemed like a man more suited for the job than Malden. What was he hiding? What happened to his wife? What was the story behind his daughter?

Woody sighed. He was spending far too much time thinking about Miss Cavanaugh...far more than just the passing embarrassment of mistaken identity. A half a decade ago he might have formally talked to her father about courting her. Woody blindly ran his thumb over his badge. Now, he was planning on talking to her father...but it was about his possible involvement in gun smuggling. A half a decade ago he was a bright young man ready to take on the world. Well, he did...and the world chewed him up and spit him back out, leaving him too rough around the edges to think about proper women. He had chosen his path in life and as a United States Marshal, home and hearth couldn't part of it.

He looked over his shoulder at the boarding house. The window of his room was dark but he knew Tallulah and all her cool, delicate blonde beauty as there waiting for him. It kicked him in the gut that when he thought about bedding her, all he could picture was chestnut hair, fiery eyes, and a right hook that made him see stars.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a light on at the doctor's office. It was too late to make a social call, but the questions he needed to ask Dr. Macy were far from the normal pleasantries. Then again, the sooner he had talked to all the village leaders the closer he'd be to doing the job he came to town for. And the sooner he could ride back out to the next town, the next assignment, and forget about the woman with a boy's name...

A quick look though the lightly covered windows proved that the light was coming from a room off the back of the building. Woody cut through the alley between it and the telegraph/stagecoach office and rounded to the back of the building. He stood in the shadows as Jordan and the man whom he assumed was Dr. Macy walk out to the stoop.

"Thanks for sticking around Jordan. When are these green farmers going to realize these Texan long horns are not the milk cows they are used to back east?"

Woody shook his head. He could only imagine one of the settlers had a run in with one of the big beast's sharp horns.

"I'm sure this one with be more careful from now on...Good night, Garret."

"You be careful getting home Jordan. I better get back inside and double check his dressings. I'll see you in the morning."

Jordan stepped off the small porch. Woody melted further into the shadows and watched Jordan stride off toward the stables located behind the telegraph office. Woody noticed she had changed her dark skirts from the night before in for a pair of men's trousers. The denim encased a pair of unbelievably long legs that looked like they were made to wrap around a man's waist perfectly. He closed his eyes and moaned at the pictures floating across is mind.

"Who's there?"

Woody opened his eyes to see Jordan coming toward him with a small but deadly looking gun pointed in his direction. His first thought was how blindly stupid she was walking into a dark alley and how incredibly easy to would be over-powering her.

It wasn't past him to teach the bewildering Miss Cavanaugh a lesson.

Woody ducked around the corner and bided his time until she was within reach. Before Jordan could even draw in a breath to scream, she was locked in a pair of strong arms … one of which nabbed the weapon out of her hand. She didn't have time to think about her missing gun when she felt the whisper of peppermint-scented breath against her ear.

"Don't scream and I'll let you go..."

It's you! Jordan recognized the new marshal's voice and willed herself to go limp.

Woody didn't realize she was playing possum until it was too late. He was seeing red after she bit the palm that covered her mouth and used the sharp heal of her boot to crush his instep. To insult to injury, she pivoted on her heal and kneed his groin rendering him paralyzed. The string of words that came out of his mouth should have any "proper" woman running for the hills. But then again, not all proper women were like the formidable Miss Cavanaugh.

"I don't need to scream." she said calmly fishing her gun out of the waist of his pants. She didn't quite hold it against his head but she didn't holster it either. "What the Sam Hell are you doin' out here? Are you following me?"

"Does you father know you talk like that?" Woody said trying to clear his senses. "I'm sure Mr. Vijay has some nice strong soap if need be."

"Just answer the question."

"I was out for a walk. I saw the light. The question, Miss Cavanaugh, is what are you doing walking through dark alleys in the middle of the night?"

"I was working. You, marshal, are lurking."

"I was hoping to have a word with Dr. Macy."

"He's busy and it's late. Come back tomorrow," Jordan said turning away. Woody's arm snapped out to stop her. "Do you always make it a practice of manhandling women Marshal Hoyt?"

Woody left her go but didn't make a move to get out of her way. "Tell me about Dr. Macy, Miss Cavanaugh. I understand you're the person who knows him best around here."

Jordan arched her neck and quite affectively looked down her nose at the taller man. If he wasn't still feeling nauseous Woody would have laughed. He gave her a charming smile nonetheless.

"He's a fine physician if you should ever need his services." she said haughtily.

Woody's tone was cool and businesslike. "I'm sure. I understand he's makes a fine pine box too, but I don't think I'm be needin' that. What else is he involved in Miss Cavanaugh?"

Jordan couldn't hide her confusion. "What do you mean?"

"It's a nice set up he's got here. It looks like business is booming enough for him to afford extra help. Or is it that he's got some outside concerns that take him away from his duties? Tell me Miss Cavanaugh, does your Dr. Macy have anything to do with those six men dying yesterday?"

Woody knew he stuck a nerve by the fire that came out of her eyes. Either she didn't have a clue, or she was the best actress outside of the beautiful Laura Keen, whom he saw on stage before he left Washington. Miss Keen herself recognized a murderer when she pointed out John Wilkes Booth, calling him an assassin. Maybe Miss Jordan Cavanaugh would have similar insight.

"You do know who could be responsible for these deaths?"

There was pause before Jordan answered. She also couldn't look him in the eye. "...No."

This time he did chuckle. Lying wasn't one of Miss Cavanaugh's long suits.

"What about Lord Townsend? What can you tell me about him..."

"I'm afraid I don't have time for your inane questions, Marshal Hoyt. Our business here is done. Now if you'll excuse me..." This time she did brush past him.

Woody followed her into the field between the telegraph office and the stable. Miss Cavanaugh bore more scrutiny then just passing fancy. He couldn't help but think that she would somehow lead him to whomever was responsible. But first he needed to win her trust.

"I'm afraid we still have some unfinished business Miss Cavanaugh. We need to talk about what happened last night."

"A gentleman wouldn't bring that up."

"I never claimed to be one. About that gold piece..."

Jordan stopped cold. How could she forget about that? When she went to change out of her clothes the night before her modification doubled when the shiny coin fell on the floor next to her bed. Half the day it burned a hole in her pocket while she thought of a way to return it with out having to face her assailant. The other half she worried it between her thumb and forefinger trying to forget the feel of his warm lips against her chapped hand.

"Here, " she said fishing it out of her pocket. "I'm sorry I took so long to return it...Honest... I didn't know where to take..." She wasn't about to humiliate herself worse by taking it to the Simmons place.

He stopped her holding his hands up in front of him in surrender. "Don't be. I wanted to tell you to keep it."

"I can't!" she hissed in outrage, pressing it in his palm. "I'm not that kind of woman!"

His chuckle was quick and warm. It felt good. He hadn't laughed in a long time. "I know. Believe me, you're father was very clear on that point. Let's call it penitence, Miss Cavanaugh. Maybe next time I'll remember how to treat a lady..."

Jordan snorted. Her heart was still pounding from him attacking her in the alley. She swung open the gate to the coral and whistled for her horse.

"I want to apologize again."

"Accepted." she said curtly.

Woody saw a chance to use this moment to even further his investigation. "It's dangerous this time of night. Let me escort you home." He would take her home and get his take on her father's claim. The guns needed a safe house. What better then a small spread in the middle of nowhere?

Over my dead body... Jordan may only give Rev. Stiles' sermons half an ear...but the half she did listen to, she believed. It was dangerous alright. There was no way she was going to ride out on the range with the devil himself. "I can take care of myself Marshal Hoyt."

Woody cleared his throat. She did get the jump on him...twice. "I'm well aware of that fact but I'm trying to prove I do have some manners." The look in his eye said he wasn't taking no for an answer. "And as a gentleman, I must insist."

"You just claimed you weren't one." Jordan forgot about her horse and slammed the gate only to march through the very alley he had just finished warning her about. "In that case, I'm staying in town." She didn't have to turn around to know he was right behind her. "I'm going to stay with my friend Miss Lebowski."

This wouldn't be the first time Jordan imposed on Lily in the middle of the night. With all the strange goings-ons around town Max wasn't comfortable with Jordan riding home alone at dark. The schoolmarm offered to let Jordan stay with her in her rooms above Walcott's on those nights. . Jordan liked being in her own bed at night and rarely called in the favor. If she did it was because she was just too tired to make the trip...or she knew Garret would need her before morning.

Tonight was different. Jordan's nerves were stretched tighter than the silk-covered corset she had to wear under her good dress. She probably could ride all the way to the border before she felt sleepy.

"I haven't had the pleasure yet," Woody said from behind her. Jordan stopped so quick Woody had to jump off the sidewalk as to not run into her.

"She may be juggling a handful of beaus at the time...Lily's not one of your kind of woman either." she said sharply.

"I'd never meant to insinuate..." Beaus? I thought Malden said there was just the telegraph operator. The little schoolmarm sounds sociable. Maybe one of her "beaus" told her something...

"Yeah right..." Jordan muttered mounting the first step on the flight that led up the second floor side entrance to the mercantile.

"Miss Cavanaugh?"

Won't he leave me alone! Jordan turned around and found herself eye level with the new marshal. His eyes seemed bluer in the pale moonlight. She was overcome with that feeling that she was looking at the face of a fallen angel. Washed and shaved, Woodrow Hoyt was easily the prettiest thing she had ever laid eyes on. He smiled and her heart did a flip. He reached for her damp palm and placed the twenty dollar piece back in it. The metal was warm from his hand.

"Good night ma'am," he said tipping his hat and once again melting away in the shadows.

Jordan cursed herself for standing there looking like a fish out of water. As gracefully as she could, she marched up the stairs and knocked on the door. She didn't doubt he was still standing there, somewhere in the shadows, watching her.

"Lils, it's me..."she said trying to keep the panic out of her voice.

"Jordan?"

Jordan heard the lock on bolt and waited for the door to open. Lily opened it just enough for Jordan to squeeze in. Jordan didn't say anything back simply walked over the window that looked out over the main street. The street was deserted. She worried the coin in her fingers.

"Jordan. What's going on?"

"Nothing," Jordan chuckled nervously. "Just paranoid I guess. Can I stay here tonight?"

"Of course," Lily smiled. "You're always welcome."

Lily rushed to her trunk and pulled out a night gown for Jordan to wear. "Here, do you want something to drink? I still have some tea...it's cold but I can heat it up..."

There was something about Lily's gracious fidgeting that made Jordan relax and feel safe. She let the curtain drop and slipped the coin in her shirt pocket "No, thank you...but you can tell me about your day..." she said as she began to take her clothes off to get ready for bed.

"Mrs. Frankin kept the oldest out of school today. I guess she needs some help with this one, but the other two older girls were there. I understand Mr. Frankin is on cloud nine now that he finally has a son..."

Jordan smirked thinking about the seven Frankin girls. The Frankin's had one child for every year the couple had been married. "Now maybe he'll leave poor Mrs. Franklin alone," she quipped pulling the borrowed nightgown over her head.

It took Lily a second to process Jordan's innuendo. Her face blushed as bright as the locks hair that she had wrapped tightly in rags around her head. "Jordan!" she gasped...before she started giggling. "Maybe so..."

"Speaking of randy men," Lily smiled coyly. "I understand you made quite an impression on the new marshal last night."

It was Jordan's turn to blush. "What actually did you hear?"

"I heard the marshal made indecent advances at you," Lily leered.

Jordan laughed. "You sound like you're talking about one of those dim-witted penny-dreadfuls again."

Lily's lips twitched. It wasn't a secret to Jordan that Lily enjoyed reading the dime novels Nigel habitually ordered from Walcott's...on the sly of course.

"Come on. You've read some too..."Lily teased.

Only the racier ones, Jordan had to admit to herself. "I put him in his place," she smiled thinking with some satisfaction of the faint bruise she noticed on his chin while standing on the stairs. The tender spot on her knee told made her doubt he'd have much to do with Mrs. Simmons that night either. "W...Who told you?"

"Mahesh." Lily was one of just a handful of people in town that used Bug's given name and the pronunciation rolled off her tongue flawlessly.

Jordan nodded. How could she think word wouldn't get around?

"So..." Lily climbed into bed and made room for Jordan. "Tell me about him. Is he good looking?"

Jordan shivered as she turned down the lamp pulled the blankets up over them. "I guess...if you like that sort of thing."

"Hmmm...better than I thought..." Lily hummed in the darkness. "The Fourth of July celebration is next Sunday. There's going to be a box lunch auction after church and dance later on that night...You don't suppose he'll be there do you?"

Jordan turned her head and looked at her friend's profile. Of course she knew about the picnic and the dance...and everything else. The town's been planning it since the snow started to melt...and if that wasn't enough it seemed like Lily mentioned it in every breath.

"I don't know. Marshal Hoyt's indecent advances didn't include a look at his social calendar."

"I hope so..." Lily said not biting on the insult. "You know Jordan, maybe you should get ready with me that day. Mahesh has already promised me I can have the big, new copper tub he had shipped in from Chicago last month. He's ordered in some French milled soap from New Orleans that's supposed to smell like roses..."

"You need to just marry that man..." Jordan snorted.

"And give up everyone else? I'm having too much fun. You ought to think about sprucing up a little more Jordan. You could be having fun too. You're beautiful but nobody can see it through those hand-me-downs you wear. And those hands..." Lily held up her own, which were covered with light cotton gloves. "A little Dr. Houghton's miracle lanolin cream every night and you'll have hands as soft as a baby's. I hear he's staying over at Mrs. Simmon's place..."

The segway in the middle of Lily's patented I-can't-believe-your-father-made-you-wear-long-john's-as-a-kid lecture was far from subtle. Jordan rolled over presenting Lily with her back and hoping she'd take the hint and go to sleep. "It is the boarding house..."

"Aren't you the least bit...curious? I mean he's obviously attracted to you and yet he's saying with her."

Jordan punched her pillow trying to find a more comfortable spot. Lily wasn't fooled. Jordan was dazzled, flustered and frustrated. Something she rarely was when it came to the subject of men.

"He can't very well sleep in the stable can he?" Jordan replied irritably.

Lily couldn't help one last dig. Jordan teased her about her "men" more often then not. "True..but still...I'm sure Mrs. Simmons is going to look nice for the dance..."

"Mrs. Simmons looks nice while she's hanging her laundry. Go to sleep Lily."

"I can't wait to meet this one..."