Kid's conscience railed against him, leaving Lydia in the place she called home, but there was no help for it. He went straight to Camille's saloon afterwards.

"Couldn't go a day without seeing me?" Camille taunted in her phony French accent as soon as he stepped through the door.

"I'm here to talk to the girl who's seen that impersonator of mine."

"Of course you are," her smile, saying she had known it already. "Fortunately for you, business has yet to get in full swing or you'd be paying to talk to her. I've half a mind to make you pay anyway." As if she hoped to make him squirm, she paused for a moment. Then she said, "Second door on the left at the top of the stairs. Don't take too long"

He knocked and was greeted by an angry but attractive young woman. "This is my time off," she told him unequivocally.

"I just want to talk. Camille says you seen a young man that told you he was using Kid Cole's name to rob stagecoaches."

She reluctantly let him in and shut the door behind him. "Yeah, what of it? You the law or something?"

"Not at all. Might be that I want to get in on it. There can be more than one Kid Cole, can't there? Makes it that much harder for a man to be caught, don't it? With supposed sighting that are miles apart."

"You do look the part," she conceded. "He's smooth faced or he was. Hasn't quite lost his baby fat either and gotten a man's lean features like you. Blue eyes, light brown hair. Shorter than you by about a foot. His name is Colt Phillips. Said he was going to Jefferson City."

He inwardly sighed. It was a bit closer than Franklin but still no quick trip. It would take him 2 days just to get there if he went horseback. "Then I reckon that's where I'm headed. Thank you, ma'am."

"He'll be back here if you want to wait. He's promised to come back and get me as soon as he's set up in a new life."

Kid thought that was not very likely. A lot of men said things they didn't really mean to women in the heat of things even if they thought they meant it at the time.

She sensed his doubt and argued even harder, "Him and me ain't going to be poor all our lives and the money's going to make us upright townsfolk. You just wait and see. He wouldn't lie to me."

He felt sorry for the woman, especially if she thought money would redeem her. He had never strung any women along purposely, but he hoped none had walked away with any false expectations. They were many ways to tolerate selling your body to strangers night after night. Lydia's mother chose liquor, Camille chose working her way to a higher position in the trade, and others like this one chose self-delusion. He felt shame that he had at one time been a part of it all. He'd been too caught up with his own demons to see the harm he was causing to these women. "God forgive me."

"What's that?" she asked sharply.

"Nothing. Just don't wait for some man to come rescue you. You want out, you get out yourself."

"That ain't as easy as it sounds."

"I know it ain't, but with God, it's possible."

She turned angry again as she realized he'd been lying about what he wanted with Colt. "If there's one thing I can't abide, it's a liar! Get out! Out!"

He went willingly and closed the door behind him. He heard what must have been her shoe strike the door. He had his information. He was more than happy to get away from here all things considered, but he didn't get away as quickly as he hoped when he saw Camille drinking down brandy and flirting with some miscreant downstairs.

It grated on him. Everyone knew a mother's state of mind had a bearing on the child's health. If she were to become frightened or angry, both rampant emotions in such an environment, who knew how the child would turn out?

"You shouldn't be down here," he said interrupting them, his voice tight with anger.

She reddened mostly with anger. "That's none of your affair. Go home."

"It is my affair and you know why."

She repeated again, "Go home."

The man beside her had already lost patience. He was equal in height to Kid but much wider in girth. By the looks of him, he'd been in many a bar fight and his ham-sized fists were aching and ready to pummel someone, namely him. "I don't like it when my fun gets interrupted. I'm going to take it back out of your hide." He proved his words by moving closer.

Kid wouldn't wave a gun even though it would be much easier and quicker with women present unless he absolutely had to. Instead, he picked up a nearby chair, using it like a shield and sword by turns.

The bull of a man grew more and more enraged and managed to rip a leg off the chair and get a hit into Kid's arm with his oversized fist. It hurt like the dickens. Pain flashed down his arm almost rendering it useless, but it gave him the vigor he needed and speed, at least, was on his side. Furniture was overturned and bottles were broken during the ruckus.

The giant of a man fell at last with a thud and then Kid turned to walk away, thinking his assailant had had enough, but while his back was turned, the man picked up one of the broken bottles by the neck and got to his feet stumbling toward Kid with deadly intent.

"Kid!" Camille screamed.

He turned and sidestepped just in time. It was just enough to keep the jagged bottle from raining down over his head. He received only a glancing cut above the eye, the bulk of the broken bottle hitting empty air. This time he showed no mercy and was sure that the man was out cold before walking away.

His only thought as blood trickled into his eye was that Ruth wouldn't be happy about the cut.

"You want me to take care of that for you?" Camille asked.

"No, but I sure could use some whisky."

She smiled as if she'd caught a glimpse of the old Kid at last and ordered him the requested drink. "On me," she said.

Instead of drinking it though, he soaked his handkerchief into the cup. Then splashed what hadn't soaked in onto the wound. It stung, but he'd seen enough of the result of infections at Ruth's revivals and he was eager to clean it.

That out of the way, he asked, "Can't you keep out of here until your time is up? Running a saloon is hard work with the ruffians that darken the door every night, who knows what could happen, and it's even more dangerous to be alone with a man. As owner, you ain't forced into doing this. Put whoever you had in charge while you were away in charge again and manage from a distance."

"But it's good for business to be seen, and it's my livelihood. I cannot put my life on hold because I'm with child, not even for a childless couple."

"I can understand that and you're right, you don't owe Ruth and me anything, but you do owe it to the baby you carry. You're his mother even if only for a few months. Do right by him and see that he is born as he should be."

"Don't order me around or you just may never see this child," she bit back.

His temper flared again in response and he clenched his sore hands and looked hard at her before walking out.