A FILLY OF SPIRIT

 

PART OF THE BEN WADE TRILOGY:

Better Luck Next Time (Set 4 years after 3:10 to Yuma)

A Mother For Tommy and Lilly (Set 4 years after Better Luck Next Time)

 

By ALWrite

 

Ben's daughter is falling in love with Johnny Ryan. But is Johnny good enough for Ben's precious girl?

 

 

"Daddy! Sunshine has dropped her foal!"

 

A young girl of sixteen with light brown hair and blue-green eyes was storming into the house and hurled herself at Ben Wade a.k.a. Ben Warner.

 

Ben put the coffee pot down just in time to catch his daughter Lilly in his arms. Swinging her around he could see a light of mischief in her eyes.

 

"It's a colt. And he is black! That means I was right!" the girl declared after he had put her down.

 

Someone had been careless enough to put the young mare together with some of the young stallions. It had already been at the end of the year, but with the close proximity of so much testosterone the mare had come into heat again, and what Lilly had seen as youthful antics of youngsters when she had observed the horses teasing each other had turned into mating when the horses had been on their own. It hadn't been planned that way, but it had happened. When it became clear that the mare was with foal nobody knew which of the stallions had been the sire. Ben had bet on the young chestnut because he always picked fights with the others, and it was already apparent that one day he would be the undisputed alpha male of his group. But Lilly had astonished him when she had declared that the foal's father had to be the black stallion, a beautiful newcomer her father had bought only weeks earlier and which still tried to find his rank in the group of young stallions.

 

"Simply because he is your favourite, sweetie?" Ben had asked his daughter.

 

"No, because the mare likes him better than your chestnut," Lilly had answered.

 

Ben had laughed aloud at that. "It's not the mare who decides, sweetie. In nature, the stronger wins. And the black is no match for the chestnut."

 

"You'd be surprised. The mare was kicking at the chestnut whenever he got near her. She clearly favoured the black."

 

"Yeah? So, now you know why I don't leave pairings to nature."

 

Ben had pinched his daughter's cheek before he had continued, "Just like with obstinate little girls it should be a grown-up man who decides who they pair with."

 

His daughter's eyes had blazed fire. "Are you saying you are going to decide who I will marry?"

 

Ben had only smiled at that. He knew his daughter well and could predict what was coming.

 

"There is no way anybody but me will decide that!"

 

"Yeah? You sure?" he had provoked her with a wide grin.

 

"Yeah!" she had mimicked him, her hands on her hips.

 

Sitting at the breakfast table with his daughter Ben couldn't help but smile at the memory. Lilly immediately picked up on the smile.

 

"I hope you haven't forgotten what you promised me," she said.

 

"Promised you? When did I ever promise you anything?" Ben asked innocently.

 

"When Sunshine was with foal we made a bet. You said if I was right I could quit school. Remember?"

 

Ben made a show of trying really hard to remember his words. "No."

 

"Oh...!" Lilly picked up a piece of bread from the basket and threw it at her father, who started laughing.

 

"Are you sure you want to quit school? You'll miss it, you know. Who would you fight with if not Miss Hargrove? And who would teach you to be ladylike?"

 

"Ha! I can be ladylike if I want to!"

 

Ben laughed. "You've yet to prove this, Lilly."

 

Lilly was chewing on a hard chunk of bread and couldn't answer. But the look she gave him spoke volumes.

 

Ben watched her gleefully, smirking at her. Lilly swallowed but couldn't keep up her indignation and started laughing. "You know, Daddy, Miss Hargrove will be sooooo glad to get rid of me."

 

"She sure will," her father confirmed her words. They both had a history with Miss Hargrove. Both laughed merrily. It was settled.

 

"Shouldn't you be getting ready, Lilly? It's an hour's ride into town, and you said you wanted to take your old mare, so we'll have to take a long break."

 

"I had forgotten how beautiful it is here," Lilly said when they enjoyed a break at the banks of a river.

 

The territory of the 'Horseshoe Ranch' had been considerably reduced after Tommy's wedding five years ago. But the years since then had been good, and Ben was steadily buying back everything he had sold previously.

 

There had been a time when Ben had hoped that Tommy might one day take over the horsebreeding, but Tommy wasn't interested in horses. Numbers, arithmetic, and the flow of money was what fascinated him, and Ben had seen to it that he could pursue his talents. And so Tommy had become a banker.

 

When Tommy had been twenty he had fallen in love with the daughter of a banker from Chicago who happened to visit Nevada. The banker had been very fond of Tommy, and he had seen his potential both as a banker and as son-in-law. When it had become evident that Tommy would follow his love and his future father-in-law to Chicago Ben had sold part of his lands and nearly half his horses to give Tommy a substantial dowry and a comfortable start for his life in Chicago.

 

Now at 25 Tommy was already a wealthy man, a family father, and a successful banker. His letters were few and far between, but they were always full of tales of his latest investments and profits, and huge figures were strewn in. Ben barely recognised the fragile little boy who at eight years of age had entered his life in Tommy's tales of money, success and status. Lilly usually ignored the fact that she had a brother. He was just too different to be of any interest to her.

 

Lilly was looking at her father, who to her embodied everything a man should be. Ben Wade was 61 now, and he was still as imposing as ever. The years had added a few pounds to his stocky frame, and new lines were etched in his face. His beard was completely white now. His hair had retained its colour longer; once the colour of chestnuts it was now streaked with white, and when one looked closely one could see that there were actually three different colours present: a mixture of the still dominating chestnut colour, a few hairs bleached golden by the sun, and more and more white hairs. The colours gave the hair an intriguing appeal. As a child Lilly had loved to cuddle in his lap, and with her little fingers she had traced the white hairs in his beard as if she wanted to count them.

 

As she looked at her father now who was deeply lost in thought, there were too many white hairs in his beard to count. But with each new one he had grown dearer to her. There simply was no man to match her father.

 

"What are you thinking about, Daddy?" Lilly inquired.

 

"Sorry, sweetie, I was lost in thought. – I was thinking about Tommy. He sent me a telegram mentioning that Elizabeth Ann is pregnant again. It’s already their fourth child. I just wondered if she is well."

 

"Poor Elizabeth Ann," Lilly said.

 

"Why do you say that?" Ben inquired.

 

"I wouldn't want to be married to my brother."

 

"Why not, Lilly? He is young, good-looking, has loads of money..."

 

"Is that what I should be looking for in my future husband, Daddy?" Lilly asked her father. "Money?"

 

Ben smiled at that. He knew that his daughter didn't bother about this. But then, she had never had to face life without money like he had to.

 

"You'll find money becomes very important when you haven't got it," he said.

 

"There are more important things in life than money."

 

"Undoubtedly."

 

"How can you choose a husband because of his money, anyway, instead of knowing him first?" Lilly asked.

 

"What? You mean 'know' as in the Biblical sense?"

 

Lilly nodded.

 

"You must be kidding."

 

"No. I'm not! Men are allowed to... well... touch women. They even brag about it. Why shouldn't women have the same experiences? They would learn a lot, wouldn't they? Practice would make them better." Lilly got quite worked up over the matter and Ben decided to stop her.

 

"Wrong! Just because a man has f... touched many women doesn't make him a good lover or husband."

 

"What makes him a good lover and husband then?" Lilly asked.

 

Ben blushed. It didn't happen often, but his daughter had a talent of stirring up feelings and thoughts he didn't know he had inside himself. He lowered his head so Lilly couldn't see his face – and the inevitable smirk that her provocative question had elicited. Was he a good lover? He wondered himself. There was no way of knowing. If he asked a whore she would tell him yes because she wanted the business. Any respectable woman wouldn't even contemplate evaluating. However, there had been one... Jennifer... early after he had bought the ranch and started to breed the first horses...

 

When he looked up from his thoughts he saw Lilly looking at him expectantly.

 

"I'm not answering that question."

 

"Why not?"

 

"Because this isn't a subject fit for discussion between us."

 

"And whom should I ask then?" Lilly asked.

 

"Ask what?"

 

"Why shouldn't a woman have experiences like a man does?"

 

"Because she can be left behind with child. That's why. A man can't. He can always ride on."

 

"It's still unfair," Lilly insisted.

 

Ben sighed.  "No one ever said life was fair, sweetie." He looked up at the sun.

"Come on. We should be getting into town, or Thanksgiving will start without us."

 

A mile into town Lilly's mare started to limp. They checked her hoof for stones but they both knew the limping stemmed from an injury that the mare had suffered years ago. They dismounted and walked but it was still hard on the animal. When they reached the livery they were both glad that the horse's ordeal was over. Hanson wasn't in the stable. Instead there was a new stable hand Ben hadn't seen before.

 

"Afternoon. Where's Hanson?" he asked the young man.

 

"He's gone to fetch something. Will be back soon. – What happened to her?" he asked, indicating Lilly's mare.

 

"She just needs rest. The ride was a bit too much for her," Lilly answered.

 

The young man touched the mare's head and murmured soothingly. Then he touched her leg and lifted it to look at her hoof.

 

"It's not the hoof. It's her leg. She strained it too much, the ride was a bit long," Lilly said.

 

The young man touched and probed along the mare's leg. When he touched a certain spot she reared her head and whinnied.

 

"Shhh..." the young man immediately reassured her, caressing her neck and head, murmuring to her. Then he turned to Lilly, outraged indignation on his face.

"How could you ride her so hard without paying attention? She's hurting!"

 

 

At his angry voice Lilly turned to face him. "I did NOT ride her too hard! We had a break, but it wasn't long enough for her. She once had the leg broken, and sometimes it still gets sore when she is using it too much!"

 

The young man left the horse and advanced upon her. He was clearly angry now.

"Don't lie to me about something like that! Have you no shame? First, you ride your horse so hard it hurts its leg, and now you want to make me believe that she had a broken leg?"

 

Ben was watching the exchange and could see that Lilly was steaming with anger. He decided to interfere. In this mood his wilful daughter might well attack the young man physically.

 

"Lilly, you should go and see Mrs. Reed," he cut in just in time. Lilly had already taken her hands from her hips for further use. "It will take some time for you to get ready for tonight."

 

Lilly turned to look at her father with an 'I-am-not-finished-with-him-yet'-look, but when she saw his determination she just gave a frustrated cry and stormed out of the stables. Ben turned to the young man and took a close look at him.

 

The boy was 20, perhaps 22 with brown hair and eyes. A good-looking young fellow, actually. He was as tall as Ben but slender in build and still a bit coltish. He hadn't quite lost that puppy-look of very young men. Only his eyes showed how adult he was. They radiated a self-assurance Ben had rarely seen in such a young man. He was like a young thoroughbred, one of those racehorses Ben had once seen in Kentucky. He smiled. The way the boy had stood up for the mare – an animal he didn't own and had never seen before – had impressed him. After Lilly had left the stable the young man had turned to the mare again and taken off saddle and tack. He kept stroking and talking to her. Ben approached him.

 

"She was right, you know. The mare really did have her leg broken once. It took months to heal, but she finally made it. – Now, if you have some water and hay for her and a cloth to rub her down with we can make her more comfortable."

 

Ben guided the mare into one of the empty stalls. The boy must be a good worker, he noticed. Hanson's stalls had never looked so clean before. He tied the mare up and crouched down to touch her leg. She was very sensitive and skittish, afraid that his touch might hurt her. He patted her neck and scratched her to calm her down. The best medicine would be rest.

 

The young man set down a bucket full of water and a bowl with oats. He had also brought a particularly soft cloth. He caressed the mare with the soft cloth, rubbing her whole body slowly and rhythmically. He was totally self-absorbed and ignored Ben's presence, murmuring to the mare the whole time. Ben watched the young man tend to the horse. The mare did not know him, but under his ministrations she completely relaxed and didn't seem to worry about her pain any longer.

 

"What's your name, boy?" Ben asked.

 

"Johnny Ryan, Sir."

 

Ben nodded. He had seen enough. He carried their bags to the hotel where they would sleep tonight after the festivities, and then decided to get cleaned up and find his daughter at the seamstress'.

 

"How do you like it, Daddy?" Lilly asked, turning in front of him.

 

Ben wasn't sure what to answer. There she was, his little flower all grown up, in a splendid green evening dress. The dress had once belonged to her mother but to his knowledge Rachel had never worn it. Lilly's light brown hair had been done up artfully, and she looked older than her girlish sixteen years. With a little sting somewhere inside his heart Ben had to admit to himself that he was no longer looking at a child. Lilly was almost a woman.

 

"What is it? What are you looking at?" she inquired. Laughing. she launched herself at him, and he caught her and swung her around as was their ritual.

 

"Miss Warner, you are not supposed to run when you are wearing a dress like this."

 

Ben put her on her feet.

 

"Why not, Mrs. Reed?" Lilly asked.

 

Ben lifted his daughter's chin with his hand and answered instead. "A lady doesn't run. But then, what would you know about the proper behavior of a lady?"

 

Quite predictably her smile turned into indignation and she smacked him with her hand. He laughed out loud. Mrs. Reed watched their exchange. She didn't know the girl very well since she almost never came into town, but she was very fond of Ben Warner, who did not only still look extremely handsome at his age, but was also a gentleman – in the good lady's opinion one of the very few that could be found.

 

"This was mother's dress, wasn't it?" Lilly asked.

 

Ben nodded.

 

"Am I as beautiful as she was in it?" she inquired.

 

Mrs. Reed sniggered behind her hand at such a question, but Ben knew his daughter and understood what was going on inside her. She wasn't fishing for a compliment. Lilly hadn't really known her mother. When Rachel had died Lilly had been four. She was asking for an image of her mother that she might conjure up in her mind, an image of a beautiful alluring woman, an image based on his description. Ben had no memory of Rachel ever having been alluring. But he would never tell Lilly that.

 

He looked at her. If Lilly had been older and experienced enough to interpret his look she would have known that it meant that there was no woman in the world like her. As it was she believed him to see an image of her mother in the very dress the seamstress had altered for her. Lilly knew that she had her mother's hair. Her father had often told her so himself. His unwavering gaze and the love in his eyes... he simply had to think of a happy time with her mother...

 

"What was the first compliment you paid her when you saw her in this?"

 

"I never saw her in this dress. She never wore it," Ben said softly.

 

"Never?"

 

He shook his head.

 

"Not even just for you?"

 

Ben smiled – a little sadly but Lilly didn't catch the subtleties. Rachel had never bothered about giving him any attention. In fact, she had been at odds with her own femininity. But he wouldn't tell his daughter this. Lilly's image of her mother was that of a nice and good woman. Why taint it?

 

"You know, the festivities will start soon, and we have promised the banker Mr. Jones and his wife to pay them a visit beforehand," Ben reminded his daughter of the social obligations they occasionally had to honour.

 

Lilly wrinkled her nose in disgust. Ben shook his head; this was not negotiable. Lilly heaved a sigh. With an exaggerated bow and an honest smile at her loveliness Ben extended his arm to her. Lilly answered his cue with an accomplished curtsey, and took his arm. Ben tipped his hat at Mrs. Reed, and actor and actress... and father and daughter left the shop.

 

When they arrived at the festivities hours later with the Joneses, everything was already under way and people were celebrating. A large wooden platform had been constructed in the middle of the street to enable dancing. Two fiddlers were playing music, and the first couples could be seen turning to their lively tunes. Along the side of the street tables full of food had been placed. There were several stands with refreshments – beer, punch, and lemonade. After sunset the whole place would be illuminated by torches.

 

Within minutes Ben and Lilly were in lively conversation with several people. Lilly hadn't been in town for some time, and everybody wanted to catch up on the latest news. In her elegant outfit she drew the eyes of both men and women – the former looked entranced and excited, the latter mostly envious. Ben was acutely aware of the young men eyeing up his daughter while Lilly chatted away completely oblivious of the effect she had on them. But it wasn't long before one of them made the first move and asked her to dance.

 

Ben kept glancing at Lilly surreptitiously throughout the small talk the banker and grocer involved him in. She looked simply stunning, and Ben wasn't the only one noticing.

 

"Quite a filly you have there, Mr. Warner," the banker said.

 

Ben laughed. "A spirited filly, I can assure you, Mr. Jones," was his reply.

 

The banker laughed. "Like father, like daughter, eh?" he remarked.

 

Both he and the grocer laughed at that.

 

"Can't deny that," Ben admitted with a proud smirk.

 

The three men watched the young couple on the dance floor. Another young man was cutting in, but he moved Lilly around without sense of rhythm or guidance, and Ben could see that she didn't enjoy the dance. He decided to interfere.

 

"If you don't mind...I would like to dance with my daughter," Ben growled at the young man, who swung Lilly around clumsily.

 

Ben Warner wasn't a man to challenge. The young man backed off immediately. Relieved, Lilly slid into the arms of her father.

 

"Thanks, Daddy," she whispered. Ben smiled down at her and started to move her around to the music.

 

"No need to thank me, young lady. All I wanted was a chance to dance with the prettiest girl tonight."

 

"You really think so, Daddy?" She tilted her head and gave a coy smile.

 

Ben laughed. Perhaps his daughter was not above fishing for compliments.

 

"Are you telling me nobody has used this line on you? I'm surprised that I should be the first to tell you. I would have thought it the perfect compliment for a young man to say when he dances with you."

 

"Each of them said it," Lilly admitted, "but it didn't ring true."

 

Ben looked at her, astonished.

 

Lilly shrugged her shoulders. "It was as if they had learned the line by heart to make an impression," she explained.

 

Ben's lips were twitching, his eyes smiling as he bent over her and placed his lips at her ear, his voice soft and caressing. "It is true, you know." And with a sigh he added "I'm not sure if I should be happy and proud about this or rather jealous and sad because I'm... only your father."

 

It was Lilly's turn to be astonished. They looked at each other. Ben didn't want to discuss this, so he exerted just the slightest pressure with both his hands on Lilly's back and her hand as warning, then he swung her around in some moves that demanded nothing but her following his lead. He felt her go soft and pliable in his arms. She followed every move easily, smiling up at him at his dare, enjoying the difference to the calm and measured dancing of her former partners.

 

They were the center of attention. But whereas the men merely noticed how beautiful the young girl looked and how yielding she was in the arms of her dancing partner, inspiring them to dreams of a somewhat more intimate surrender, some of the women watched the scene with a suspicious mindset. It was almost indecent how the man was smiling down at his daughter. And her smile was for him, not for any of the young men who were around. It was almost... scandalous. More than one woman in town wondered about the family situation on the 'Horseshoe Ranch'...

 

Their suspicions were mollified a bit when the son of the hotel owner, Arthur Burns, asked Lilly for the next dance. Now there was a young man to pair up with the girl. His father made good money – not just with the hotel but also with his side-business. Most of the townspeople didn't know exactly what this side-business entailed, but the whole family was very well-to-do. A good match for the rancher's daughter...

 

Lilly had heaved a sigh at having to dance with the young man but Ben had winked at her and had let her go as soon as he had approached. He walked off and aimed for the beer stand when he spotted someone standing nearby.

 

"Married life suits you, Sandy. You look beautiful," he whispered into the ear of a woman in her thirties. Sandy, wife of the farmer William Evans, turned and beheld Ben.

 

"Ben!" Her voice conveyed her joy. Sandy had once been a saloon girl, and when William Evans had asked her to marry him they had faced some hard times with people gossiping about their union. But it had only made them grow closer.

 

Sandy smiled at Ben, ready to hug him, but Ben had caught quite a few stares of 'decent' women in town, and instead he took her hand and raised it to his lips. They shared a smile. After all, Ben and Sandy had known each other intimately while she had still been working in the saloon.

 

Then Ben turned to William Evans. "William."

 

William nodded a greeting. "Ben."

 

They had been on first name terms ever since Ben had helped William and Sandy when their union had been disapproved by the townspeople and William’s family.

 

"Where is your mother?" Ben asked William, looking around.

 

"She isn't feeling too well and decided to stay with my brother’s children."

 

William sounded worried and Ben meant to find out more, but others listened in on their conversation, and so Ben left to get himself a beer.

 

Standing aside and looking as if he didn't belong was Johnny Ryan, the livery boy. The young man's eyes scanned over the people as if looking for someone. Instead of one, Ben was getting two drinks and walked over.

 

"Johnny..." Ben addressed him and handed him a beer.

 

Johnny was happy to see a face he recognized. Gratefully, he took the offered drink.

 

"Thank you, sir."

 

They drank in silence watching the townspeople.

 

"How long you been in town, boy?" Ben asked him.

 

"Only three weeks. I'm from Kentucky."

 

When Johnny looked at Ben he found Ben looking at him intensely. A nod of Ben's told him to go on.

 

"My parents had a small farm close to a race course. I always sneaked off to spend time in the stable."

 

"So that's where you learned about horses," Ben smiled.

 

Johnny didn't answer. He had spotted a girl coming towards them. The girl wore a beautiful green dress. Her light brown hair reflected the sinking sunrays. The image was stunning, and he was totally smitten. Ben smirked. No chance getting the boy to talk. And it hadn't been small talk for him either. Ben wasn't interested in small talk. He wanted to learn about the boy's knowledge of horses.

 

Lilly had approached the men and reached for her father's beer. "Daddy, can I have a sip of your beer?" she asked.

 

Her father smiled and handed it over. "Why don't you get your own?" he asked her.

 

She snorted.  "Do you think I want to queue up there to discuss the question if it's 'seemly' for a woman to drink beer? They'd chase me off to the lemonade stand. And I HATE that sweet stuff!"

 

She took a long gulp. Ben shot a glance at Johnny, who was still mesmerized. It was only after Lilly had spoken to Ben that Johnny had actually realised she was the same girl he had had a fight with in the livery stable earlier that day.

 

"Johnny Ryan... my daughter, Lilly," Ben did the honours.

"Lilly, I'll get myself a fresh beer while you can keep Johnny company," Ben said. Then he bent towards his daughter and spoke softly in her ear, "I don't think any of the men queuing up for their beer would chase you off, though, sweetie."

 

Lilly smirked at Ben's retreating back, a smirk that looked suspiciously similar to Ben's own smirk, Johnny thought. When Lilly turned and beheld Johnny looking at her admiringly, she blushed.

 

They didn't really know what to say to each other so merely glanced around and into their beers, too shy to look into each other's eyes.

 

 

Then, out of the corner of her eye, Lilly saw that Arthur Burns was walking towards them. That bore! Lilly hated the young man. He was so full of himself, the perfect younger image of his cocky father, Don Burns, who owned the hotel Lilly and Ben were staying at this night. She had been obliged to say hello to them both when she had arrived at the festivity, and there had been that one dance after she had danced with her father, but there was no way Lilly would actually contemplate talking to this young man if she could help it. Arthur Burns was blissfully unaware of Lilly's feelings. He had seen her peek at him. His smile took on a smug look, and his stride took on a slight swagger. Lilly dreaded the worst.

 

"Do you dance, Johnny?" Lilly asked.

 

Johnny shook his head. "No."

 

Lilly wasn't at all happy with his answer. She looked at him. "Yes, you do. Now!" she whispered urgently.

 

Johnny wasn't getting it. She had to grasp his hand, dragging him away towards the platform.

 

"I can't dance," Johnny managed to say. "I don't know how."

 

His look said 'Don't take me up there in front of everyone'. And Lilly understood. She re-directed him along and beyond the buffet and away from the people to stand near a barn door.

 

"Sorry. I just wanted to get away from that bore," she said by way of explanation.

 

Johnny smiled. "Why didn't you tell me? I would have chased him off."

 

"You would?"

 

They dived into each other's eyes. Johnny nodded.

 

A few minutes later Johnny was getting his chance. Arthur Burns had noticed that they weren't dancing but talking. That livery hand talking to Ben Warner's daughter? Who did he think he was? With a superior smile he approached them.

 

"Excuse me," he cut into their conversation.

 

Lilly turned and beheld the very man she had wanted to avoid. Not only had he interrupted the story she just told about her beloved mare, she also felt repelled by the superior smile on his face. Involuntarily, she had taken a step towards Johnny. Her hands clenched in frustration, and she was taking a deep breath. She didn't want to be polite to this oaf! Suddenly she felt Johnny's hand enfold hers, warm and reassuringly.

 

Johnny looked at Arthur Burns while Burns was deliberately ignoring him, trying to get the message of Johnny's inferiority across to Lilly.

 

"How would you like to..." he started but was cut short by Johnny's words.

 

"Excuse me!"

 

Johnny's words were so sharp Lilly held her breath. The two young men looked at each other. Arthur Burns felt sure in his status. After all, he was the hotel owner's son, one of the richest men in town. Anybody who crossed him also crossed his father. But Johnny never moved an inch or displayed any insecurity. He looked at Burns steadily.

 

"The lady is with me."

 

Lilly looked at him. Johnny gazed down at Lilly, and for a moment his eyes turned soft. He squeezed her hand, and Lilly smiled at him. Johnny didn't smile back. Instead he took her smile as a cue to fix Arthur Burns with another stare.

 

Burns took the hint. "Oh... well..." he said, turned and walked without another look or word at Lilly.

 

Lilly looked at his retreating back and twisted her mouth in disgust at his abrupt retreat. Johnny saw it and smiled. His hand still held hers. For a second he bent a little closer to her until his mouth could touch the elaborate curls of her hairstyle. But then he became aware of the fact that they might be watched and backed off softly.

 

And watched they had been.

 

Nothing of what had happened had escaped Ben's notice. His daughter Lilly was never far from his mind, always visible out of the corners of his eyes. It was mostly unconscious, something he had developed while she had still been a toddler, stumbling from one mischief into the next. But it had never completely left him. And even now, at sixteen, there was always a level of awareness in him where she was concerned.

 

After Johnny had chased off Arthur Burns he and Lilly took off into the direction of the livery. Unknown to them Ben decided to follow.

 

Johnny shut the creaking door as softly as he could. Lilly had walked over to her mare, but the mare stood in a stance of complete relaxation, her once-injured leg lifted to take her weight off it. She was okay. No need to worry about her.

 

Cautiously, Johnny had come closer, walking up to her from behind. Lilly felt his presence. The warmth of the stable and the smell of the horses made her feel at home.  The music and the sounds of the townspeople could be heard far-off, like a faint reminder that somewhere out there life was going on while within the warmth and security of the stables she felt herself fall into a languid mood...

 

Johnny's hands lightly touched her shoulders. But it was when he buried his nose in her hair that she wanted to see and feel more of him and turned around to face him.

 

Her movement made Johnny drop his hands. He stood awkwardly in front of her, looking down into her face in the semi-darkness. Her eyes were a dark, blue-green sea, her cheeks wore a rosy blush, and her lips looked so full and soft he wished he could just dive down with his mouth and kiss them...

 

His thoughts were visible in his eyes. The way he looked at her mouth made Lilly self-conscious and heightened the colour in her cheeks. They were both inexperienced, and Lilly's heart was in her mouth. Somehow she found the courage to slowly raise her hands and place them on Johnny's cheeks...

 

Ben had come into the livery silently, just in time to see Johnny standing nervously in front of Lilly and Lilly's hands reaching out to pull Johnny's face towards hers. Ben's first impulse had been to interfere, but then he restrained himself. Lilly was in control of the situation, and as long as nothing serious happened, he wouldn't deny her a first kiss.

 

It was a strange feeling, though. Just as he had felt when he had seen Lilly at the seamstress', his heart constricted, and he became aware that she was leaving behind that sweet and willful girl that was entirely devoted to him. Soon she would want more of life than games on winter evenings or outings in summer with her father. He wouldn't be enough for her any longer.

 

Standing at the door in the darkness, handle still in hand, Ben fought with these new emotions, not sure he was really prepared to let her go just yet.

 

Their kiss was tender. They were barely touching each others' lips before they came apart again. But that first taste had been enough to fire their curiosity. Their second kiss was harder, more intimate. Lilly's hands, which had cupped Johnny's face, went around his neck and she pressed him to her lips. Johnny's hands sneaked around her waist drawing her into his body.

 

They broke the kiss and looked at each other – in their eyes a silent understanding that it still wasn't quite enough...

 

At that moment the door to the livery was opened loudly. Someone was coming. They moved apart.

 

"Are you here, Lilly?" Lilly heard a familiar voice. Johnny froze.

 

"Yes, Daddy," Lilly said, masking her embarrassment with a slight cough. "We wanted to have a look at the mare. She's ok. Nothing to worry about."

 

The raised eyebrow Ben gave to Lilly's words showed plainly that he didn't believe a word. Johnny was getting nervous. They had done nothing wrong, but being found alone with the young girl – especially by her father - could mean trouble. Lilly had turned away from Ben lest he could see in her face that she was lying. Ben cast a look at Johnny. The boy did definitely look nervous. His hand combed through his hair, a gesture of insecurity, but then he straightened his back and took a step towards Ben, looking him straight in the eye.

 

 

Ben held his gaze. Johnny's reaction had astonished him. Most young men wouldn't dare stare back at him. It would have been easy for Ben to outstare Johnny, to make him acknowledge Ben's superiority. But Ben didn't feel like playing that game. He actually liked the boy. The way he had taken a stand for the mare against Lilly, and even more the way he had taken a stand for Lilly against the Burns boy was a sure sign: the boy could and would stand up for himself and anyone he cared about. Not bad. Not bad at all.

 

Ben smiled, and his smile made the tension that had charged up the stable evaporate.

 

"I think it's time to go back to the festivity again, don't you, Lilly?" he said.

 

Lilly made a face. "Oh, Daddy! It's so boring! Everybody's gossiping about other people, and I don't want to dance with those... those... oafs!"

 

Ben laughed. "If you were taking the gossip a bit more seriously and listen to it, young lady, you would learn a lot of interesting news," Ben remarked to his daughter.

 

"Oh yeah?" she asked, placing both her hands at her hips again.

 

Ben smirked widely and nodded. "The women are already marrying you off to young Arthur Burns," Ben said softly, poking right into one of his daughter's weak spots. He gave a wink to Johnny behind her back, who caught on immediately and smiled at Ben's plot to rile Lilly a bit.

 

"What?!!" Lilly shouted.

 

Both Johnny and Ben laughed out loud at her predictable reaction.

 

"You're teasing me, Daddy, aren't you?" she asked when the two men had calmed down again.

 

Ben shook his head. "No. It's true. They think he's a perfect match for you. And you should really think about it, Lilly. You know, he's got a lot of money."

 

Ben had accentuated every word. His voice had been soft, too soft for Lilly not to pick up on the hint to their talk earlier.

 

"Yeah, come to think of it, I need a lot of money," Lilly countered.

 

Ben was unfazed by her comment. "However..." he said and started to approach her, "...as I told you only this morning..."

 

Now he stood right in front of her, bent down and looked into her eyes, his nose almost touching hers. "I don't leave things like this to just anyone. I am the one deciding this."

 

Now this was guaranteed to provoke her wrath, Ben was sure of it. And Johnny, who had been mesmerized watching the banter of father and daughter unfold, cringed, too, and prepared for some sort of attack. Instead Lilly smiled one of her 'all-teeth'-smiles at Ben.

 

"That's okay, Daddy. Then I know I won't ever have to marry Arthur Burns. You hate his guts, don't you? " His face was still close, and so she gave him a quick peck on his cheek. Then she crossed her arms in front of herself, smiling and looking like the cat who had just licked the cream dish.

 

Johnny laughed. Lilly definitely knew how to score points against her father, and he was entranced. Those two were unlike any people he had ever met.

 

Ben threw him a glance that said 'At least you could be on my side,' but then he had to laugh, too. After all, Lilly was right. If he could help it, she would never walk down the aisle to meet the likes of Arthur Burns at the altar.

 

"It's late. If you don't want to go back dancing, then I think it's time to get some sleep," Ben said, holding out his hand to her and concluding the conversation. Lilly gave Johnny a last smile, then she reached for her father's hand, and together they walked out of the livery and to the hotel.

 

When they stood in front of their rooms in the hotel Ben turned to his daughter.

"Little Flower...?"

 

"Yes, Daddy?"

 

His tone of voice had been strange, and she was looking expectantly at him.

 

"Promise me that you won't leave your room tonight, and also that no one enters..."

 

Didn't he trust her? But then Lilly smiled inwardly when she realized that his words implied something else. They spoke of his concern for her. And even more. Her father believed her to be a grown-up woman already, a woman a man might want to...

 

She smiled, reached up to him and kissed him on his cheek. "I promise."

 

When they collected their horses the next morning, there were a number of people in the livery, collecting or leaving their horses, and Lilly didn't even get a glimpse of Johnny Ryan. Ben saw that she was disappointed.

 

When they reached the ranch Lilly vanished in her room and didn't reappear until supper-time.

 

The next day Lilly was up as early as usual. Ben was more than a little astonished when she arrived at the breakfast table all spruced up in her best riding skirt, blouse, and vest.

 

"What's this? I would have thought you'd enjoy sleeping in from now on," he greeted Lilly.

 

"Why would I do that?" Lilly asked. playing innocent.

 

"Weren't we agreed that you could quit school?  You changed  your mind, sweetie?"

 

Lilly blushed. "No. But Miss Hargrove doesn't know yet. Don't you think it impolite if I just stay away? I thought I should at least go there and let her know."

 

Ben nodded, his look saying he didn't believe a word.

 

"You have to do that this early, Miss 'Let-me-sleep-a-little-longer-Daddy'?" he inquired.

 

Lilly stuck her tongue out at him. "I'm just trying to be polite."

 

Ben's look was serious. "And you have to get dressed up for this conversation?" he asked.

"I meant to go to Mrs. Miller afterwards and have a chat with her. I didn't get to talk with her at the festivity," Lilly countered. It was a lie. But she simply HAD to go and see Johnny.

 

Ben nodded vigorously. "Yes, I see you getting dressed up for a talk with Mrs. Miller. Just the thing you'd do, Lilly."

 

Lilly wanted to counter this with another witty remark, but a fierce blush brought on by the thought of who she really wanted to see and talk to prevented it. Her father knew too well how to look behind all her masks. She had never found a way to outwit him.

 

"Your dressing up wouldn't have to do with a certain young man called Johnny Ryan, now, would it?" Ben asked softly, his voice taking on that honey-timbre that could mean anything from provocation to caress, depending on how you chose to react to it.

 

Lilly chose to use one of her better tactics with her father: head-on confrontation. "Why don't you accompany me?" she asked.

 

"There's no need for you to go into town, Lilly," Ben informed her, his voice still soft, "'cause I saw Miss Hargrove at Thanksgiving and already told her that you are done with school, and you'll be staying on the ranch from now on."

 

Lilly's eyes filled with tears. He had taken the wind right out of her sails.

 

Ben swallowed. The tears in her eyes threw him off his course. Always did. He simply couldn't handle her like this. His wish to tease her along into telling him what she was up to went right out of him. Left behind was a sadness that numbed him. Apart from the usual childhood antics of telling outrageous stories, Lilly had never lied to him. There had never been the need for her to hide from him. Why now? All he wanted from her was honesty.

 

"Why don't you tell me the truth, sweetie," he whispered, his eyes fixed on his plate.

 

Lilly's tears were running along her cheeks now. "I want to see Johnny, Daddy," she whispered back. She hadn't meant to lie to him – couldn't if truth were told – but she HAD to see Johnny! And her father had looked right through her little ploy.

 

Ben smiled, a little sadly since he had been forced to wring the truth out of her.

"You scared to tell me this?" he asked her softly.

 

Lilly swallowed. "I was scared you might forbid me to go."

 

Ben looked at her. Would he have done that? Maybe. She was right.

"Let's get going," was all he said.

 

When Ben and Lilly arrived at the livery Ben saw another example of expert horsemanship at work. Johnny was taking care of an old gelding, a horse that was obviously neglected by its owner. Johnny had brushed it and was checking its body for wounds, touching and caressing bit by bit.

The horse was not used to being touched nicely, and again and again the gelding's head turned towards Johnny in an attempt to bite him. Again and again Johnny evaded the bite, calming the horse before touching it again. No matter how often the gelding threatened, Johnny wouldn't tie him down or beat him. He wanted the horse to learn by itself that he wasn't hurting it.

 

It was a long lesson, and both Ben and Lilly watched as the horse slowly changed its stance and clearly found it too tedious to always threaten to bite when there was actually no point. In the end the gelding stood, calmly enduring Johnny's touches. Johnny patted his neck, and left the stall.

 

"Well done, boy!" Ben commented, and it was only then that Johnny realized he wasn't alone.

 

He turned, saw Ben and Lilly, and nodded a greeting. "Sir."

 

His eyes swept over Lilly, and she smiled a shy smile at him, but Johnny didn't dare do or say anything. Instead he fetched plenty of oats and hay and fed them to the old gelding.

 

"I doubt that the owner will pay for that much," Ben remarked with a gesture towards the gelding's meagre body.

 

"I don't care," Johnny said. "The horse needs it."

 

Lilly and Ben exchanged a smile at that. Ben sat down on a bale of straw to watch Johnny, and Lilly stood beside him. Johnny bent over to check the horse's hooves.

 

"Remember our conversation at Thanksgiving?" Ben asked casually.  "You wanted to tell me where you learned about horses. Said you grew up near a race course."

 

Johnny nodded and looked at them. Lilly was standing beside her sitting father. Her arm was resting comfortably around his shoulder, and his arm was hugging her around her waist.

 

She looked beautiful and very elegant in her dark blue riding skirt, white blouse and light blue, richly embroidered vest. Elegant like a lady, Johnny thought, but also fresh like a flower, swaying around you in the breeze while you were lying in the grass dreaming. Johnny's momentary lack of focus was not lost on Ben who, for a moment, hugged Lilly tighter to himself – an unconscious gesture of protection... or was it defence of territory?

 

"Yeah," Johnny started his tale. "I always slipped away from my work on the farm and ran over to the horses."

 

Lilly smiled and nodded her understanding. She would have done the same.

 

Johnny fetched some grease for the gelding's hooves and while talking cleaned and then smeared the horse's hooves for protection.

 

"When I was sixteen they told me I could work in the stables. My father wasn't happy about it, although they paid good money. Took the belt to me, he did. But I went anyway. Worked in the stables for one year," Johnny continued.

 

Lilly's smile had vanished. Her father had never hit her, but she had heard from the other children she went to school with that it was a quite common occurrence. And Johnny had had to endure...  It was just awful!

 

"Then there was an epidemic," Johnny continued his tale. "Measles. My parents died. After that I left. Just didn't want to stay there any more."

 

Measles. She had lost Mattie, her dear dear friend, to measles. Lilly had a good idea what Johnny had gone through.

 

"So where did you go?" she asked, tears in her eyes and voice.

 

"Don't know really," Johnny said. He was looking at Lilly, at her open face, her blue-green eyes full of compassion and realized that this was the first time he had ever told anybody about his life. Back home everybody had known, and since he had left Kentucky nobody else had ever cared. But now, for the first time in his life, he actually wanted to tell somebody. Wanted to tell this girl about who he was.

 

"In the beginning I just rode on. Wanted to get away. Forget it all. Rode for days. To... I don't know... everywhere." He stopped and his eyes looked into the past before he spoke on.

"To nowhere really. Stopped in Kansas City. Rode through the mountains of Colorado. Worked a while in Utah on a ranch that belonged to a Mormon. Then I went north. There's a lot of mining there. Didn't like it much. So I found work as a cattle driver and drove cattle from Utah to Nevada. Moved on from place to place. I wanted to work with horses again. Sometimes I worked in a livery stable. When I came to Pah-Rimpi I learned about the 'Horseshoe Ranch', and so I came here to Indian Springs."

 

Lilly looked at her father, but he gave a slight shake of his head. No. It wasn't the time to tell Johnny who they were. Not yet. Johnny could not see Ben's gesture. He was combing his hair with his hand, a habit of his when he was nervous or scared.

 

"The 'Horseshoe Ranch' is the biggest ranch of its kind around here," Ben said, probing. "Why haven't you tried to find work there if you want to work with horses?"

 

Johnny hesitated. Again, he ran his hand through his hair. "I heard the owner expects quite a lot. I don't know if I'm good enough."

 

Lilly smiled and looked at her father but he didn't take his eyes off Johnny.

 

"Well, why don't you go there and ask, boy, instead of hanging around here doing all the work alone and making all the decisions that Hanson should make," he said to Johnny. Then he got up.

 

"Lilly, I'll go send that telegram to Fort Gibson. I'll meet you at Mrs. Miller's, all right?"

 

Lilly nodded.

 

"In five minutes," he added with a threatening look.

 

Lilly smiled up at him. "Yes, Daddy."

 

Her smile disarmed him as usual. With a smile of his own and an 'I-mean-it-young-lady'-look he shook his head and held out his hand to Johnny. "See you soon, Johnny," he said.

 

Johnny stood opposite Ben, a bit confused about Ben's words and gesture.

 

"Yes, sir," he answered, shyly shaking Ben's hand.

 

"I'll have to be at Mrs. Miller's in five minutes," Lilly said when her father had gone.

 

Johnny had watched Ben leave. Now he turned and looked at her with a sweet smile. He was thinking back to their first meeting. How blazingly furious and passionate she had been. And even later, back here in the stable, she had been the one in control. Hearing those words of obedience from her and seeing her give in so easily to her father gave him a completely new idea of the girl opposite him, and it made Johnny feel all soft inside. Five minutes? What was he to say or do that might make an impression on her in just five minutes?

 

"Five minutes is not much," he said, looking down at his hands a bit bashfully.

 

"No," Lilly confirmed, "but it is enough."

 

She stood before him. He didn't know what to do, didn't dare touch her, so he put his hands in his pockets, standing awkwardly. Lilly's hands touched his wrists and ran along the sleeves of his shirt right up to his shoulders. He had stiffened at her touch, his breathing faster than before, his eyes searching hers for an answer to a question he didn't even know he was formulating.

 

Lilly raised herself on tiptoe to be able to reach his mouth, then she planted a soft kiss on his lips.

 

"Bye, Johnny," she whispered and lowered herself down again.

 

Johnny didn't dare move his hands, he knew if he did he would crush her in a powerful embrace. He swallowed hard. "Bye, Lilly," he whispered back, and when she smiled he added, "come back soon."

 

It wasn't a question, more a plea, and the smile and the nod he received as answer fired his blood. He felt hot all of a sudden, too hot to stand still, too hot even to watch Lilly walk away.

 

 

November. The winter weather had closed in, storms and rain were abundant, and there was nothing to do except sit in front of the fire with a mug of hot ale or a coffee and a good book.

 

"You've been silent all afternoon," Ben said. "You allright?"

 

Lilly looked up from the book she was pretending to read. "'Course I am."

 

But Ben knew better. He had been watching her. She hadn't turned a page in more than half an hour, only staring right in front of herself, day-dreaming. A small smile had played at the corners of her lips.

 

It had been four weeks since she had last seen Johnny, and every night her dreams were filled with his eyes, his shy smile and the way his Adam's apple moved when he was nervous and swallowed. In her dreams he was standing in front of her like he had been that last time in the livery. But his hands weren't firmly stuck in his pockets. He was grabbing her into a forceful embrace and a passionate kiss...

 

"Lilly...?" Ben's voice penetrated her thoughts.

 

She looked up. Her father was looking at her, waiting for a response. He must have asked her something.

 

"What?" she asked, a bit defiant since she had been caught day-dreaming.

 

"I asked you to bring me another mug of hot ale."

 

"Oh..."

 

She got up and refilled his mug. Ben followed her. The stove was cold. Lilly was so completely lost in thought she forgot to heat the ale. She just filled the mug, then put it aside on the table. Ben touched her shoulder to get her attention.

 

The way she stood in front of him... as if she was a little lost child. It made him nervous.

 

"Baby..."

 

Baby. Her father only called her that when she was sick. Perhaps he was right. There was something wrong with her. She didn't feel too well.

 

Lilly just laid her head on his chest. Automatically, Ben stroked over her hair. Her arms came around his back and she cuddled up into his embrace, hugging him softly, all small and fragile, as if trying to hide.

 

"That bad, Little Flower?" he asked. She nodded against his chest. He answered with a tight hug and bent down to her. "What is it? Tell me," he whispered in her ear.

 

Lilly shook her head. But Ben already had a pretty good idea what was wrong with his little girl...

 

 

As the days wore on Lilly got worse. Her day-dreaming intensified, and led to food being badly burnt, unfinished laundry, and even horses forgotten to fetch from the paddock for the night.

 

Two days before Christmas Ben decided to act.

 

Lilly was astonished when she found him in the stables saddling his horse. "Where are you going?"

 

"I've got a Christmas present to pick up in town," he said.

 

"Today? It's too cold and windy, Daddy. Can't it wait till tomorrow?"

 

"No, it can't."

 

When he was riding into town, the wind was eating at his face. Damn. Why hadn't he made up his mind sooner? But then he smiled, anticipating his daughter's face when he would present his surprise. This was the right thing to do. The wind didn't matter any more.

 

When Ben entered the house late that afternoon Lilly was standing at the stove, stirring the stew she was preparing for dinner. The table was already set, a water jar and two glasses standing beside their plates.

 

"Lilly, you gotta put another plate on the table. We have a guest," Ben said. He walked up behind her, and hugged her around the waist, looking over her shoulder into the pot.

 

When Lilly turned to discover who the guest was she saw Johnny Ryan. He was dressed in an old woollen coat that was too big and sported some holes. His eyes were sparkling when he saw her, and the edges of his mouth turned up in that shy smile of his. Somewhat ill-at-ease, he turned his hat in his hands. Lilly was still in her father's arms. She smiled at Johnny, then turned and looked at her father. He wore that smug look that told her he was pleased with himself.

 

She snuggled into his embrace, rubbing her soft cheek on his bearded one.

 

"You call this a 'Christmas present'?" she asked him softly so only he could hear.

 

"Well, isn't it?" he countered.

 

"And for whom is this present? For you?"

 

Ben gave this some thought, then lowered his lips to her ear. "No. For Johnny."

 

Lilly hadn't expected that answer. She wound out of his embrace and looked at him, a question in her eyes.

 

"I told him that he can work here," her father explained. He took a spoon and tried the stew, then made a face. "That needs more time," he said.

 

Lilly placed her hands on her hips. "It's five o'clock. Give it two more hours and it will be fine."

 

"I'm hungry!" her father complained.

 

"Well, get yourself some bread and an apple, then," she countered half-heartedly, her gaze returning to Johnny, who was still standing there in his coat watching them.

 

"Nah, I'll get Johnny settled in. – Come on, boy. Grab your bag."

 

Johnny wasn't accommodated in the men's quarters. Ben put him into one of the upper bedrooms in the main house. Johnny placed his meagre bag on the bed. There wasn't much to unpack. He didn't own much more than the clothes on his body and a few mementos from his family.

 

"I told him who we are, and that I needed a good horseman," Ben explained to Lilly while both fetched essentials like a washing basin, blankets and pillows to make Johnny's bedroom habitable.

 

"At first he didn't believe me. But then he realized we were really riding to the Horseshoe Ranch. Guess he'll think twice from now on before he doubts my word," Ben teased. "We can do with a good horseman, don't you think?" he asked Lilly.

 

"Now? In winter?" Lilly asked. "There's almost nothing for him to do."

 

"Yeah, well." Ben was well aware of the fact that Lilly was looking right through him. His hauling Johnny to the ranch had nothing to do with them needing a ranch hand. "I didn't want him to be hired by anyone else."

 

"And so you brought him here," Lilly finished his tale.

 

"Thought you might appreciate having help for your Christmas preparations," Ben joked.

 

"Christmas!" Lilly exclaimed as if December 25th was coming as a total surprise this year. "You know, Daddy, I haven't baked any cookies yet!"

 

For two days Lilly was working non-stop. From the moment Johnny set foot on the ranch Lilly was completely changed. She was up from dawn till past dusk to prepare the house and to provide the sumptuous Christmas dinner that had become a tradition ever since she had learned to cook, and that the ranch hands – and particularly her father - expected by now.

 

Traditionally, the dinner was consumed in the ranch hands' quarters, and as usual the men had done their utmost to clean the place up. They had even made an effort to decorate it: someone had hung a cross on one of the nails which held clothes, belts, bags, and other things.

 

Dinner was delicious, and everybody ate as much as they could, groaning in their satisfaction and toasting Lilly. After dinner some bottles of whisky were opened, and it didn't take long till the first jokes and outrageous stories were told. The men didn't mince their words, and Johnny's face sported a blazing red at some of the more daring jokes. Ben and Lilly, however, only laughed out loud. Lilly was used to the men, and had grown up among them. They loved her and they knew which lines not to cross.

 

It was already late when Ben, Lilly, and Johnny left the men's quarters and walked back to the house.

 

Inside Johnny watched a version of the ritual he had come to admire unfold: Ben and Lilly working together as a team. Each of them knew exactly what to do, and between them they lighted the fire, got some extra cushions and blankets, and set everything up until each of them was sitting in one of the comfortable armchairs, a hot mug of wine and a plate of cookies within easy reach, and a book to read from at Ben's side.

 

"I never tried hot wine before," Johnny said.

 

"It's from Mr. Miller, the grocer," Lilly said. "The Millers are Germans by origin, and each year they give us some of their gluhwine. It means 'glowing wine'. You heat the wine and put some spices in it, and it warms you on a cold day."

 

"It does," Johnny admitted and took a large gulp.

 

"And it also gives you a headache when you drink too much," Lilly warned Johnny. He kept looking at her, and when she realized it she blushed and buried her nose in the bouquet of her wine.

 

"Don't you think it's time for the presents now, Little Flower?" Ben asked his daughter.

 

"Yes!"

 

Lilly jumped out of her armchair and ran up the stairs to her bedroom. A minute later she came back with two parcels.

 

"Merry Christmas, Daddy." She handed Ben a small, book-like parcel, lovingly wrapped in soft cloth with a red ribbon tied around it.

 

When Ben opened it he beheld a leather-bound notebook and a pencil.

 

"For your drawings," Lilly explained. "You haven't done anything in ages."

 

Ben smiled, then he reached into his vest pocket and took out a tiny present, wrapped in thin paper. He placed it on his open palm and held it out to Lilly.

 

Carefully her small fingers unwrapped the many layers of paper until finally she could see a chain with a pendant on it that held a lot of meaning for both Ben and Lilly. It was a tiny, golden horseshoe.

 

Father and daughter smiled at each other. Ben motioned for Lilly to turn around. He fastened the chain around her neck. When she turned to face him he opened several buttons on her dress so the pendant would come to lie directly on her skin below her throat and would be displayed just right.

 

Johnny was entranced. He only had eyes for Lilly. Her simple light blue dress had drawn his eyes all evening. Lilly wasn't a girl for dressing up, and the green dress he had first seen her in at Thanksgiving was the only elegant dress she had ever worn in her life. The blue dress she was wearing this evening was a concession she had made to her father, who wished to see her in a dress – "Show me you are indeed a girl, Lilly, or I'll have to doubt that." – and who hadn't given in on this point. The light blue colour complemented her hair and went well with her eyes. Having lived in a man's world Johnny hadn't seen many girls in his life. His mother and sister had both worn cheap clothes of dark, homespun cloth. The flames of the fireplace toned the girl's face, and the tiny horseshoe reflected them and came alive. Lilly from the Horseshoe Ranch...

 

His smile was still in place when Lilly turned to him, holding out the second parcel she held in her hands.

 

"Merry Christmas, Johnny," she said and handed him the parcel.

 

Johnny took it from her, but he was at a loss what to do. He hadn't thought of bringing a present. When Ben had invited him to come and work at the ranch Johnny hadn't thought about Christmas or gifts.

And now he had been given a present by Lilly.

 

"Don't you want to open it?" Lilly asked.

"Yeah... sorry," Johnny muttered. It was a new and shining belt buckle in the form of a horseshoe. He had never owned anything so elegant. And he wouldn't wear it. His trousers and belt were both far too shabby for such an expensive gift.

 

Lilly was enjoying herself. Johnny's face was like an open book, and you could read his emotions right off it. Unlike her father whom she knew well but who always managed to hide some of his deeper layers even from her, Johnny was no riddle, no secret. She found it endearing.

 

Johnny was overwhelmed. She had given him something, and he had nothing to give to her. Or, perhaps...

 

Ben and Lilly exchanged amused glances when Johnny suddenly put down the belt buckle, and he, too, raced up the stairs, vanishing in his room.

 

"Sorry, Daddy," Lilly turned to her father. "The belt buckle was meant for you, but then I wouldn't have had any present for Johnny, and I couldn't give him the drawing-book..."

 

At her confession Ben's eyes had become soft.

 

"...and so you decided your father doesn't really need a new belt buckle, but Johnny does."

 

"Do you mind, Daddy?"

 

He shook his head. "No, sweetie. – The horseshoe is nice, though."

 

"Yes, well, I thought, since your ranch is the 'Horseshoe' Ranch..."

 

"Our ranch, Lilly," her father said. He touched the horseshoe she wore around her neck with his finger. "Seems you bought into the symbolism just as I did. Or perhaps there is another symbolism at work here..." he said softly, not sure if he meant it for her ears or for himself only.

 

"What symbolism?" Lilly asked but Ben didn't answer.

 

Putting a chain on a woman's neck is like making a claim, Ben thought. And you are still mine.

 

At that moment Johnny came down the steps, hiding something behind his back. He stepped in front of Lilly and held out his hand. His present was covered with the towel he had in his room. Slowly Lilly pulled it off - and gasped at the sight: It was a wooden carving of a thoroughbred racehorse, standing proudly on its legs, its tail swishing, its neck curved, the slender body moulded to perfection.

 

"Johnny... that's wonderful!" Lilly breathed.

 

Ben took it in his hands and looked at it closely before handing it back to Lilly. "Did you make that, Johnny?" he asked.

 

"Yes," Johnny nodded. "Whittling is about the only thing I really can do," he added.

 

Both Ben and Johnny watched Lilly. She was stroking over the body of the wooden horse as if it was a real one. When she looked up and saw their gaze she blushed and pressed the horse to her heart with both hands.

 

"Thank you, Johnny," she whispered and turned to the stairs to take Johnny's gift up to her room.

 

"It's late," Ben said to Johnny, "we should all get some sleep."

 

"Choose one of those horses over there, Johnny," Ben said, pointing to the corral in front of the house. As usual, the working horses were placed there.

 

Johnny stood at the fence observing the four horses inside the corral. There was a bay gelding who stood apart. He wasn't particularly beautiful – his neck was too short and his head a bit square, but his ears flicked backward and forward, listening to the sounds around him, and he was eyeing Johnny.

 

Johnny stretched out his hand. "Come, boy," he said softly to the horse. The horse snored and took a step back. Who was this man he had never seen before?

 

Johnny made a few clicking sounds with his tongue. He flexed his hand, his arm still outstretched.

 

The horse was shaking his head, taking a tentative step forward.

 

Again, Johnny used the clicking sounds to entice the gelding.

 

Meanwhile, Ben had led Fetlocks out of the barn. When he saw that Johnny still hadn't gone inside the paddock, he wondered why. Patiently, he watched the young man.

 

The bay gelding knew that Johnny's attention was on him, and it made him nervous. He pranced around, as if he wanted to make a show of himself – he felt threatened - but at the same time he was constantly eyeing Johnny. He wasn't sure what to expect of this human.

 

Johnny only smiled at the horse's antics. He fetched a halter lying nearby and slowly walked inside the paddock, halter in hand. He was heading straight for the water trough, not the bay gelding or one of the other horses. At the water trough he washed his face and hands, turning his back to the gelding.

 

The gelding, now blatantly dismissed by Johnny, got curious and walked over to the water trough.

 

Johnny could hear him advance, but he didn't pay any attention to the horse at all. When the gelding arrived at the trough Johnny bent down seemingly straightening his boots out. The gelding edged closer, watching the young man.

 

From afar Ben smiled: Johnny was trying to make the gelding want to be touched, tacked up and ridden.

 

Johnny straightened his back, ever-so-softly turning towards the gelding. The horse didn't know what to do; he didn't want too much attention. He had learned that being tacked up and ridden wasn't always a good experience. On the other hand he was curious and wanted to get to know this newcomer. Torn between staying and running he decided to put his head into the trough and pretend to drink.

 

Johnny smiled. He knew exactly how the horse felt. Murmuring softly, he extended his hand and touched the horse's neck affectionately. Then he  scratched the horse all over its neck. The gelding turned his head and sniffed at him. That human seemed to be okay. He turned his head away to the trough, and this time he really took a long drink. Johnny patted him, still murmuring.

 

Ben chuckled. It had been a nice show, and a good lesson for everybody who was willing to learn. Patience was the most precious virtue you could have dealing with horses. This, and a calm decisiveness that never left you, no matter what the horse did. Johnny had both in abundance. Ben knew now that for Johnny it was always the horse that counted, or else he would have made haste saddling up to please his new employer.

 

Ben watched as Johnny waited for the horse to finish drinking. Then he placed the halter on the gelding and led him to the fence. With calm, steady movements he saddled up, then led the horse out of the paddock and towards Ben.

 

"What's his name?" he asked Ben.

 

"He has no name," Ben said. "We always call him 'the bay one'."

 

Johnny nodded. If the horse didn't even have a name, how could it feel special? Oh well... he would think of a name for his new friend...

 

"How do you like them, Johnny?" Ben asked. But it was an unnecessary question. Johnny's eyes were sparkling at the sight in front of him: more than thirty mares, heavy with foal, were bathing in the first sunlight, or nibbling grass, or grooming each other. It was a sight that never failed to impress Ben. And he could see that it worked its magic on the young man, too.

 

"When will the first foals been born?" Johnny asked. To him the mares looked almost misshapen and blown up. How was it possible for them to give birth as... bulky... as they were? Wasn't it already too late, the foals too big?

 

"Early February," Ben said. "We'll only take the young mares into the barn and make sure they are watched. But with the older, more experienced ones, it's not necessary to stay wake through the night."

 

Ben thought back to the years when during foaling season he had hardly got a good night's sleep... always watching when a young mare had grown a bit nervous, just in case she might start foaling, making sure the mares and their foals received the best possible care...

 

About six years ago - after John, his foreman and friend, had died - Ben had decided to let nature take its course. Most of the mares were capable of delivering their foals all by themselves anyway. Now it was only the very young ones, the first-timers, and the few who had had problems foaling before which were kept under surveillance.

 

"Will the foals be out in the cold?" Johnny asked. A harsh wind was biting at their faces, and his tender skin looked all raw.

 

Ben nodded. "No point in raising weaklings, Johnny."

 

Johnny shook his head, thinking back to his times in Kentucky. What a difference that had been.

 

Ben had seen the gesture. "Don't agree?"

 

"The racehorses I have worked with got a blanket for the night in winter, and they were inside!"

 

"Hm..." Ben confirmed, "... I know. Always inside, always alone in a box, seeing only people but not their own kind... That's why they are so vulnerable to disease. And also skittish," he continued. "When I bought my Kentucky mares and first brought them here among the others, they were so spooked they could hardly be touched. But being out all day and night, not really free, but free to graze and move as they want has been very good for them. Well... the first two winters weren't easy," he confessed, "but then they got used to the cold. Now you only recognize them among the others because they’ve got a different breeding. But they behave just the same."

 

"That one over there, for instance," Johnny pointed to a tall, thoroughbred mare, standing close to a smaller, stockier quarter horse. The two mares were obviously fast friends, grooming each other.

 

Ben nodded. "One of the first things in the morning is coming here and checking on the mares. You okay with doing that every morning before breakfast, Johnny?"

 

"Yes, sir."

 

"All right," Ben nodded, turning Fetlocks to return to the house, "then I can leave the job to you."

 

"During winter there isn't much work with the horses. It's mostly shoeing and teaching the young ones to get used to being handled by people." And this is where you come in, boy. You have a special touch with horses, and I'd like my horses to be trained and handled by you, Ben thought. But he didn't say it yet.

 

They were returning from the outer meadows. Johnny was still shy and didn't quite dare to ask Ben all the questions that kept bubbling up in him, but Ben understood, and he was more than willing to volunteer what he thought Johnny might be interested in.

 

"Winter is the time when the ranch hands get off into town. Two, three... sometimes four men are gone, and the rest take turns doing their job." A thought crossed his mind and he chuckled. "Sometimes they don't come back. Last winter I lost three men."

 

"How?" Johnny asked.

 

Ben laughed. "They stayed in town. Met girls there. At the end of winter they came to me, told me they wanted to leave the ranch, wanted to get married and work in town. – One came back, though." Ben added. "The job didn't earn him enough money for two, and he said he'd rather be with the boys on the ranch doing horse work than work in a sawmill. Guess working with the horses is better than cutting wood all day," he concluded.

 

Johnny smiled. How could anybody prefer cutting wood to dealing with horses in the first place?

 

"The work in winter is mostly checking on everything being all right, repairing what has been broken, replacing tools, making sure the barn and stables are okay. And dealing with the young horses."

 

"What is it that you teach them?"

 

"Well, most of them will be sold to the Army," Ben answered – the Army was still his best customer although during the last few years demand had gone down -, "so they are being trained to be calm and obedient mounts. Some will be ranch horses. If they have a talent for driving cattle, for cutting and turning, then Matt will teach them that. It's not many horses, though, who are really talented to do that type of work."

 

Above them an eagle screeched, and both Ben and Johnny stopped their horses and watched the animal float majestically through the air. Johnny patted the bay's neck.

 

"You like the horse, don't you?" Ben asked.

 

Johnny nodded. "He's a good one. How come he doesn't even have a name?"

 

"He belonged to a ranch hand who got killed. Everybody else has their own horse, so the horse only gets saddled and ridden when we need a spare one. He's not very bright, this one," Ben added. "We never managed to teach him the more complicated things. He bites when he's saddled, and he shies when he’s mounted. Doesn't make it easy. Can't sell him because of it." He smiled at Johnny. "Can't have the buyers think the quality of my horses has gone down."

 

The bay one hadn’t had any problem with Johnny tacking him up, and both Johnny and Ben realized that. Perhaps, Ben thought, the bay one was a one-man-horse.

 

"How can you make sure to breed good horses?" Johnny asked. "Isn't it luck?"

 

"Nah," Ben shook his head, "it's also about teaming up the right mare and stallion."

 

“And how do you do that?” Johnny asked.

 

Ben looked at him, a smile in his eyes. "You'll learn that in spring, when I decide about the pairings." 

 

Lilly and Johnny were standing at the fence of a paddock where Ben kept the very young mares and the ones he expected to have problems with their foaling. It was sunny but a nasty wind blew, and most of the horses stood huddled together or under a nearby shelter.

 

Lilly and Johnny watched in silence. Their relationship was developing and they grew closer – under the watchful eyes of Ben. With Johnny living on the ranch and being present every day, Lilly’s urgency to sneak into town to see him was gone, and Ben was content that his plan had worked out.

 

Both Lilly and Johnny were comfortable in each other’s company, and while Johnny soaked up everything Ben taught him like a sponge, Lilly was watching him and learning that not every man was like her father. Curious about their differences and drawn by his shyness, she singled Johnny out whenever she could, observing him while he was working in the barn repairing the tack, or tending to the stallions, or teaching the bay horse from the corral which had become his favourite.

 

"I've never seen a foaling," Johnny admitted, voicing his thoughts aloud.

 

"You haven't?" Lilly asked incredulously. "But you said you've worked with horses before."

 

"Yeah, but that was at a stable with race horses. They don't have mares and foals there, only geldings," Johnny answered.

 

"What about your travels?" Lilly asked.

 

"What about them?"

 

"You said you've worked all over Kentucky, Missouri, and Utah. Didn't you see a lot of foals there?"

 

"See, yes, but I haven't been close to them. And I never saw one being born." He felt embarrassed. What would she think of him now? His knowledge of horses wasn't so great after all.

 

"I remember 'Princess' being born," Lilly said pointing to a brown mare heavy with foal.

 

"It was winter, and it was dark. Daddy woke me for the event. He sat me on a bale of straw and told me to watch and stay quiet. I did as he said. First there was only the mare writhing in the straw. But then the foal came out of her. I was scared when the mare groaned and screamed. But Daddy explained everything to me."

 

Lilly remembered her father's soft voice. How he explained what happened, why the mare was anxious and in pain. He explained the miracle that was happening in front of their eyes and that only females were capable of.

 

"It was the most wonderful experience I've ever had." Lilly smiled at the memory. "The next day Daddy brought me into the barn again to visit the little filly. He described her marks to me, her white socks, the snippet on her nose and the star on her forehead. And we searched for a name. At the time Daddy was reading a fairy tale to me with a princess in it. And I remembered that and wanted the little horse to be named 'Princess'. Daddy laughed, and I felt very angry because he made fun of me, but he accepted the name."

 

Johnny smiled. "You could probably call every little filly 'Princess'," he said.

 

"Yes," Lilly laughed, "that's exactly what Daddy said."

 

"Hey, you two!" Ben's voice broke into their conversation and made them turn their heads. "Johnny is here to work, not talk!"

 

Johnny left and Lilly continued to watch the mares. A conversation she had once had with Mrs. Miller when she had been 14 years old was vibrant in her mind.

 

"Mrs. Miller?"

 

Mrs. Miller turned from scrubbing the pan she held and looked at Lilly.

 

"Do you think it hurts when a woman gives birth to a child?"

 

Mrs. Miller's sweet and always smiling face changed into flaming indignation.

 

"Lilly! Where do you get such ideas? You are only a girl. You shouldn't think about such matters. Why would you, anyway?" she added suspiciously, the possibility of improper behaviour lurking at the brink of consciousness.

 

"My favourite mare... she's with foal. When mares give birth to a foal, they scream. I once saw a mare who screamed terribly."

 

That particular mare had died at the birthing. Her father had told her that it happened sometimes, but that it wasn't the rule. Still... the image had not been easy to forget, and with her beloved mare in foal her thoughts kept turning to the outcome...

 

"Lilly, mares are animals. Animals are different from people. God made them the way they should be. Now dismiss any thought of women and childbirth. You shouldn't ask such a question until you are married yourself, do you hear?"

 

Lilly remembered the scene well. Mrs. Miller had turned back to the task of scrubbing the pans and pots, and Lilly had been sent to fetch more water from the river. Mrs. Miller's reaction had intimidated her enough not to ask that particular question again. Her mare's first foaling had gone well, but to this day Lilly was still waiting for an answer to her question.

 

"Please, mother, drink some tea."

 

The soft voice of her daughter-in-law brought Alice Evans around. She opened her eyes and turned her head but every movement hurt. Softly, Susan Evans placed a cup of tea at Alice Evans' lips. But after only a few sips she had to stop again, exhausted with the effort. A hacking cough announced that she wasn't getting better.

 

The door to the bedroom opened, and William Evans entered, his arms full of firewood. After he had fed some more wood to the fire he sat down on the bed beside his mother. His hand touched her hot forehead, and he frowned.

 

Alice only smiled at him and shook her head, but she didn't voice her thoughts. He needn't worry. She knew she wouldn't get any better, and she was not afraid of death.

 

"Where is Sandy?" she asked.

 

"She's taking care of the children," William answered.

 

"She is a good wife," Alice whispered. "I couldn't have asked for a better one for you."

 

Tears ran down silently along William's cheeks. He recognized the remark for what it was, an apology and a farewell. Alice Evans would not rise from this bed again.

 

 

"Careful with this one, Johnny," Ben said when Johnny led a fiery young stallion to be shod. "He's real scared of fire. Never been able to get that out of him."

 

Johnny watched the horse's reaction. Yes, the young horse wasn't just skittish around the still far-off flames, he was panicking. Johnny led him in a wide berth around the barn and approached the working area from the other side. But the horse only got worse. The stallion knew something was up, and realized that he and his reaction were the centre of attention, and so he only worked himself up even more. Ben approached and his hand gripped the halter from the other side. But neither himself nor Johnny were capable of calming the horse.

 

Johnny shook his head. "He shouldn't have to see the fire."

 

"It's part of being shod. What can you do, Johnny?" Ben asked.

 

"I'll think of something," Johnny said, then he turned the young stallion and led him away.

 

One after another the young horses were shod, and several other horses had their shoes fixed. The smithy worked until late and bunked with the ranch hands.

 

At dinner Johnny was quiet and lost in thought.

"What is it, Johnny?" Lilly asked him when he stared right in front of himself and didn't join in the conversation.

 

Johnny had heard her but was far away in a world of his own. Like he would have done with his mother years ago, he reached towards Lilly, patted her hand and muttered, "Nothing, I'm fine," and then mulled over whatever his problem was. Lilly had never been dismissed by him like this before, and she couldn't make head nor tail of his answer. She looked at her father for help. But he just shook his head slightly, as a sign for her not to worry. Johnny was working something out in his mind, and the boy needed to be left in peace.

 

Minutes ticked by, and Ben and Lilly were eating quietly when, suddenly, Johnny raised his head and looked at Ben, his eyes sparkling.

 

"I know how to do it."

 

Ben looked amused. He didn't yet know what Johnny had worked out, but he liked the dedication of this young man. Years ago he would have called it 'stubbornness', but whatever you called it you didn't get to the root of a problem without it.

 

"Do what, Johnny?" Lilly asked him.

 

Johnny turned to her enthusiastically. "The young stallion who was scared of the fire today. I know how we can make sure he doesn't panic."

 

"How?" Ben asked.

 

"He mustn't see the fire at all. We'll put a wall between him and the flames."

 

"Johnny, you tried that by leading him around the barn the other way."

 

"Yes, but he was still too scared. We'll teach him to go to the barn, and there we will pick his hooves each day and praise him, and when he is comfortable with that we can have the smithy come and shoe him."

 

"He won't come for just one horse, you know. We'll have to do it tomorrow."

 

Johnny shook his head. "That's too early."

 

"Johnny. The horse is sold. He's going north in two weeks. You don't have the time to teach him."

 

Johnny looked crestfallen. "Sold? To whom?"

 

"To the army."

 

"They camp a lot. The horse will be scared of every campfire."

 

"No." Ben shook his head. "In the beginning he will be scared, but eventually he'll get used to it. You forget, there are other horses around who won't be panicking. He'll learn from them."

 

He looked at Johnny. "Don't overestimate yourself, Johnny."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"You are like a mother-hen where horses are concerned. They are clever creatures, you know. It's okay to help them along a bit, but to shelter them from life like you sometimes want to do isn't good, and it doesn't help them in the long run."

 

Johnny didn't quite know how to react to Ben's words. 'Mother-hen'. Should he take offense at that?

 

Lilly felt his dilemma and stood up to divert his thoughts. "Coffee?" she asked, and both Johnny and Ben nodded. 

 

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion. For most men, it appears to me, are in a strange uncertainty about it whether it is of the devil or of God, and have somewhat hastily concluded that it is the chief end of man here to ‘glorify God and enjoy him forever’."

 

Ben closed the book on his lap and looked at his watch. Almost nine o'clock. Time to go to bed. Both Johnny and Lilly sat in their armchairs pondering the words he had just read to them.

 

"I don't understand how someone would want to walk away from people," Johnny said. "Be totally alone. What if he needs help? Gets sick or is hurt? Having to be alone when there's nobody around is hard enough. Why would he want to do that on purpose?"

 

Ben looked at him and searched his eyes. There had been pain in his voice. "You ever been alone, boy?"

 

Johnny nodded. "When I left home and rode from Kentucky to Utah. I was alone most of the time."

 

"But you said you worked in all kinds of places," Lilly reminded him.

 

Johnny nodded. "Yes, but in-between I was alone. While I was riding there was only the horse to keep me company. No other living soul. No one to talk to."

 

Ben was watching Johnny wistfully. In his experience the company of a good horse was preferable to human company. "Is that why you're talking to horses?" he asked.

 

Johnny again didn't know whether to take offense or not.

 

"I've never been alone," Lilly mused. Ben looked at her but she was looking at Johnny. "I wonder what it would be like. To do everything when you wanted to – not because other people tell you to do something."

 

"I know you," Ben remarked. "You would sleep late, eat something, read and sleep again, dream away your day, and then fall into bed completely exhausted."

 

Johnny took it for a joke and chuckled, but Ben hadn’t really been joking. Lilly was a dreamer. If she didn't have duties to perform on the ranch she would be dreaming away her days, not needing any company. It was one of the many character traits she shared with her father: she wasn’t afraid to be on her own.

 

Lilly, too, thought about similarities and differences, but she didn’t think about herself, she compared Johnny to her father. Although initially she had seen Johnny as a loner, she had learned that he wasn't really. He was quite good with people. In fact, he got along extremely well with all the ranch hands. The time he spent in their company working was a harmonious and productive one. Although he ate and slept with her and her father in the house, the ranch hands treated Johnny as one of their own. And Johnny's way of dealing with them was totally different from the authoritative and aloof way her father treated his workers.

 

“It’s late,” her father’s voice disturbed her thoughts. “Let’s get some sleep.”

 

“The sorrel over there for sure.” Ben pointed to a young stallion. “Then the black one and the chestnut right beside him. Not sure about the other ones yet.”

 

Johnny looked at the horses Ben had pointed out, but he didn’t see much difference between them and all the others. Ben had told him he wanted to show him the stallions he meant to keep on as breeding stallions, but Johnny didn’t quite understand why Ben would pick them. The few he had pointed out were the tricky ones, the trouble-makers. Why would Ben Warner pick them instead of the calm, reliable youngsters?

 

“How many will you pick altogether?”

 

“Four or five.”

 

“And the others?”

 

“They'll be gelded and then sold.”

 

“When?”

 

“In a couple of months. I need the space.”

 

Johnny nodded. He understood this. Once the foals were born, they would need all the space they had. Still, it was a pity. He was just getting to know the individual horses.

 

“That young bay one over there,” Ben pointed to a youngster who stood alone enjoying the sunshine, “might become a good breeding stallion. But he isn’t coming along the way I thought he would. Perhaps he’ll still come around. Some are a bit slower than others. So I’ll give him another two months. But after that the gelding will have to be done.”

 

"But what about those who haven’t ‘come around’ by then?" Johnny asked.

 

"Bad luck," Ben answered. "Once they are gelded, they won't make no breeding stallion no more."

 

He turned to watch the bay stallion again, who was just picking a fight with one of the others.

 

"Someone coming," Johnny suddenly said, pointing to William Evans who rode up.

 

"William." Ben nodded a greeting.

 

"Ben."

 

"Come off your horse. Have a coffee," Ben invited him. William dismounted, then looked at Ben, his eyes filling with tears.

 

"My mother just died," he said.

 

Ben's face changed. Losing your mother wasn't easy.

 

"Come inside, boy."

 

William and Ben went into the house while Johnny took care of William's horse.

 

Alice Evans' funeral was like a state occasion. She had been a well-known and respected woman, and the whole town was present.

 

The reverend’s sermon dragged on and on, about doing good, about sacrifice, about devotion to all kinds of things and people... Ben's thoughts drifted almost as soon as the man opened his mouth.

 

He thought of Alice Evans, of the woman he had seen for the first time in Bisbee, when she had still been wife to Dan Evans. And he thought of the woman he had met again a few years later here in Indian Springs, a widow who had aged beyond recognition after losing her husband. Her beautiful green eyes had lost their sparkle, and she had been nothing but an ageing woman for whom life seemed to be over.

 

"...devotion..." the Reverend droned on.

 

Yes, she had been devoted. To both her sons who had grown into men here in Nevada, and who were a credit to their parents. But even more so to her late husband.

 

Although there had been several offers, Alice Evans had never been interested in another man. Ben was no gossipmonger, but in a small town like Indian Springs news about courtship got around.

 

"... a pillar of our church..." the preacher's voice penetrated his thoughts.

 

Yes, that too. But she hadn't been one of the 'Christian women' who got together to gossip and to comment on the 'wrongdoings' of others. They liked nothing better than to lash a horsewhip on anybody – man, woman or child – who didn't conform to their strict and joyless rules. If it were for them, Ben thought, everybody in Indian Springs would live as chaste and as restricted a life as in a monastery.

 

Finally, Alice Evans' coffin was lowered into the still frozen ground and covered. Ben cast a look over the family: Sandy and William held hands; it seemed as if Sandy was giving William the strength he needed to go through this. Susan Evans, Mark's wife, was wide-eyed, her face shocked. It was known that she had loved her mother-in-law and taken care of her during her illness. She had grown into a pretty woman, although she still looked a bit mousy and plain, Ben observed. Mark's face looked strange to Ben. It was as if he didn't really register what was happening. But then, grief had many faces.

 

The line of people condoling Mark and William Evans seemed endless. Ben was one of the last. When he meant to shake Mark's hand, the young man refused. In front of the people still present he turned abruptly and left. His wife was staring at Ben with wide eyes. Ben couldn't determine whether she was shocked by her husband's behavior or whether she was scared by him, the ex-killer. Naturally, he assumed that, being a member of the family, Susan Evans knew who he was.

 

Ben moved on and shook William's, and then Sandy's hand. He could see that William was barely capable of keeping up a straight face. So Ben just nodded to him, and then turned to Sandy. "You need anything, let me know, all right?" She smiled and nodded.

 

Everybody mounted their horses or climbed into a wagon. Most people had already left the cemetery hill for town and a warm meal. When Ben walked to his horse he spotted Mark Evans standing beside a wagon. His wife was trying to talk to him, but he shoved her aside with a rough gesture. He wouldn't be consoled.

 

For a moment Ben remembered the young boy, who, at a very early age, had lost his father. And now, that same boy, albeit hidden inside the body of a young man, had lost his mother. So what if Mark had refused to shake his hand? Ben couldn't feel angry about it. He turned away from the sight and mounted Fetlocks.

  

That evening Johnny came running into the house from the stables.

 

"The young black mare is starting!" he announced breathlessly to Ben and Lilly.

 

Finally. Lilly was sheer excitement. The start of the foaling season was always special for her.

 

Ben’s excitement, however, was tempered by the knowledge that from now on there would probably be no more nights to sleep through for the next couple of weeks.

 

When they arrived in the stable the foreman, Charlie, shook his head.

 

"Doesn't look good," he said. “Nothing happening.”

 

Ben looked at the young mare, who was lying in the straw panting. It was her first foaling, and she was scared. Carefully, he entered the box and touched her reassuringly along her head, neck and body before moving to her rear. Slowly, he inserted his hand inside the mare.

 

Johnny, who had only dealt with male racehorses before, was mesmerized.

 

“Shhh... be calm, girl,” Ben murmured when the mare moved her head to find out what was going on. Ben felt around, and Lilly saw her father frown.

 

“What is it, Daddy?” she asked.

 

He looked at her. “Foal is the wrong way round. Bound to come out with its backside.”

 

Johnny looked at father and daughter. Ben’s face was serious and Lilly’s face wore an expression of fear.

 

"Everybody out, except Matt – and Johnny," Ben ordered. Matt was an experienced ranch hand who had helped at many foalings. Ben knew he would keep calm in an emergency and be helpful. Johnny was ordered to stay because Ben wanted him to learn.

 

The following hour was one of the most nerve-wracking of Johnny's life.

 

When the mare’s pain got worse and she started to panic, Ben instructed Johnny to sit at her rear end while he, Ben, kept massaging the mare and tried to keep her calm.

 

When the foal wouldn’t come out Ben instructed Johnny to insert his hand into the mare and feel around.

 

“There’s something strange,” Johnny said while carefully groping around.

 

“What’s strange?”

 

“As if... as if there’s one leg missing,” Johnny panted, his eyes staring into nothingness while his mind tried to see what his hand touched.

 

“Missing?”

 

“No. It’s there. It’s the wrong way.”

 

Oh no. Whatever Johnny meant with ‘the wrong way’, it didn’t sound good.

 

Ben breathed deeply. “Can you shift the leg?” he asked Johnny.

 

“I don’t know if I can find the room,” Johnny said.

 

Suddenly, the mare reared her head and whinnied in pain.

 

“Shhh...” Ben murmured immediately, scared she might panic but the mare just slumped down and didn’t move any more. It was as if she had given up. Ben scratched her neck but she just lay in the straw with her eyes closed.

 

“Get out your hand, Johnny,” Ben spoke. His eyes were still on the mare and Johnny didn’t realise that he had been addressed.

 

“Now, Johnny!” Ben said urgently.

 

Johnny jumped at the suddenly hard voice. He withdrew his arm and got up.

 

Ben prodded the mare until she opened her eyes again. Then he shoved her and urged her to stand up. But she didn’t want to – she had had enough of the pain that was wracking her body.

 

“Get up!” Ben shouted at her, at the same time pinching her hard. It was enough to make her scream and scramble up on all fours.

 

When she stood, Ben patted her again.

 

“Now, Johnny, try again. See if that changed anything,” he said.

 

Incredulously, Johnny looked at him, but then he inserted his hand obediently into the mare again. A wide smile blossomed on his face.

 

“It’s all right! The leg is right,” he said.

 

Ben closed his eyes and heaved a deep breath. “Now all we have to deal with is the wrong position.”

 

But that turned out to be not too much of a problem. The mare felt that something had changed for the better, and it didn’t take much to persuade her to lie down. Soon she was straining again, and after a few pushes the backside of the foal showed. The mare strained hard, but whenever she stopped to rest the foal seemed to slip back in. Ben used voice and gestures to encourage the mare to try again and again. Then, with a few hard pushes, the foal's backside came out, its behind being the first part of it to see the light of day. As instructed by Ben, Johnny helped the mare, pulling at the little creature whenever she gave another push, and slowly, steadily, the little animal’s body could be seen.

 

Finally, the mare gave a groan and another strong push, and the foal slid out of her body and right into Johnny’s arms! For a moment he was frozen with shock and exhaustion, but then reality kicked in.

 

It was done! The foal was out! The little creature writhed in the straw but Johnny just sat beside it, not capable of doing anything. He looked at it and tears started streaming down his face.

 

Ben stepped in and – with the mare weary from her ordeal and incapable of taking care of the foal herself – he tore the placenta to free the foal, and started clearing the mucus from the little animal's mouth and nose. Then he took some straw and rubbed the foal – a little filly - down.

 

Matt threw him a soft cloth, and Ben proceeded to dry the little animal.

 

After a few minutes of vigorous rubbing the little creature had had enough. With its system sufficiently stimulated it tried to wriggle out of Ben's grip and kicked to be free of his restraining arms.

 

Ben chuckled and let the little filly have her way. After a few unsuccessful tries she got up on her legs and stood beside her mother, who still lay exhausted in their box.

 

A desperate whinny from her baby announced to the mare that there was someone who needed her. She raised her head and beheld her offspring. It was encouragement enough.

 

Ben gripped Johnny's arm. "Let's get out, boy," he said.

 

Johnny let himself be dragged out of the box. His face was awash with tears. The mare heaved herself up and stood, still a little bit shaky. The little filly nudged her belly and searched for her mother's udder, and Johnny couldn't take his eyes off the pair.

 

"A miracle," he whispered.

 

Ben understood only too well what Johnny felt at this moment.

 

"That's why women are special, Johnny,” he said, “and why we love them. Not because they can give us pleasure, but because they give us life," he said.

 

Johnny didn't seem to listen, but it was a misconception. Ben's words had sunk right into his soul. Life. Women. Birth. He hadn't thought about these things before, well... yes, he had, but they hadn't seemed to be such a big thing. They just happened. But if you thought about it, giving birth truly was a miracle, wasn't it?

 

The budding foaling season kept both Ben and Johnny occupied. The little filly wasn't the only problem they encountered, but it had been the first to open Johnny's eyes to the miracles happening around him and to the magic of womanhood.

 

As his knowledge grew, the magic increased in his eyes. And watching Lilly go about her daily duties connected her to his budding understanding of the female world: Lilly, too, was a female, and she would become a wife and mother. She, too, would one day give birth. The thought left him quivering, and the more he thought about it, the more he imagined himself to be included in her future.

 

“I am the foreman here, not you!” Charlie Meeks shouted at Johnny. It was loud enough for everybody in the vicinity to perk up and approach. A few days ago Charlie and Johnny had almost fought over the treatment of a lame horse. Something was brewing, they all felt it. 

 

“Foreman or not, you can’t treat the animals like that!”

 

“They are animals, not people, Ryan! You behave like that back in Kentucky, treating them horses better than family?  No wonder they wanted to get rid of you!”

 

The ranch hands held their breaths, but Johnny didn’t attack Meeks at the insult. He just took a deep breath. His voice was calm again as he said

 

“If you treat people like you are treating those horses, then it’s just as well you haven’t got a family of your own.”

 

“That’s it! I’m not taking that from some Kentucky farmhand!”

 

Meeks was about to come for Johnny when a small pebble landed between the two men. Meeks froze.

 

Everybody turned and saw Ben.

 

“Back to work, everyone,” Ben said quietly, and the ranch hands obeyed. Ben walked up to the two men and looked at Johnny.

 

“You, too, boy. Get back to work,” he said softly, a tilt of his head in the direction of the barn the only emphasis to his words.

 

“He's too rough...” Johnny started justifying himself.

 

“Now!” Ben roared.

 

Johnny jumped. He had never heard Ben Warner raise his voice. It was intimidating! Johnny swallowed hard, then, with a quick glance at the foreman, he turned and left.

 

Ben looked at his foreman. Charlie got nervous under his gaze.

 

“Boss...” he started, but a quick jerk of Ben’s head shut him up.

 

“The boy is right. He knows about horses. From now on I want the Kentucky horses handled only by him and Matt. Understand?”

 

Meeks nodded.

 

Ben nodded a dismissal, and Meeks left. Warner wasn’t a man to make him lose face in front of the ranch hands, but still, how would they react once they found out that Johnny was to take care of the Kentucky mares? 

 

“A rock that looks like a bridge?”

 

 

“Yes,” Johnny said. They were sitting in front of the fire, and Johnny was telling Ben and Lilly about his travels.

 

“Where was that?” Ben asked.

 

“In Utah. I rode through the desert, had been riding some time, and I had only one canteen full of water left for both me and the horse. Suddenly I saw this rock. It was... it was... magical.”

 

Lilly looked into his face, all flushed with excitement at the memory he had conjured up. His light brown eyes sparkled, his mouth was open and smiling, his lips...

 

“What is it? What have I said?”

 

Johnny had caught her dreamy look at his lips and wasn’t sure what to make of it. Ben, too, had seen it but didn’t say anything.

 

“Nothing.” Lilly shook her head. “What happened then? Where did you go?”

 

“I was lucky. By the time I ran out of water I had reached Moab – that’s a small town where you can cross the Colorado River.”

 

Suddenly, Johnny fell silent and he frowned.

 

 

“What happened in Moab?” Ben asked. But Johnny didn’t answer – he was lost in thought. Ben touched him on the shoulder to bring him back to the present.

 

“Johnny... what happened in Moab?”

 

“I saw a bunch of men.”

 

Again, he fell silent.

“What did they do?” Ben probed.

 

“They dragged along another man. When I approached them they told me to get lost.”

 

While Lilly listened enraptured, curious as to what might have happened, Ben stiffened imperceptibly. He had a pretty good idea.

 

Johnny looked at his employer and mentor. “They dragged him to a tree. That’s when the man started fighting back.” He swallowed hard. “He fought for his life, but they were too many. They tied his hands and his feet, and then they flung a rope over a branch and put the rope around his neck.”

 

Johnny turned silent. Minutes ticked by. Neither Ben nor Lilly disturbed him.

 

“In the end they pulled him up.”

 

Lilly gasped but Ben motioned to her to stay silent. This was something Johnny needed to get off his chest.

 

“The man’s body twitched up in the air... it couldn’t do anything else. It went on and on, I don’t know for how long. His face... his eyes... then his tongue came out...”

 

His voice faltered and he fell silent again. Lilly placed her hand on his arm to calm him but he didn’t seem to notice. In his mind he was reliving the event he had witnessed.

 

“Yeah,” Ben said softly, “a death like that ain’t easy.”

 

For a moment they were all silent, then Lilly asked, “Why did they do it?”

 

“He had stolen a horse,” Johnny said.

 

Ben nodded. Stealing a horse meant stealing someone’s livelihood. People depended on horses. Losing them could mean death. Stealing a horse – or cattle - was an offense punishable by death. In small places without a sheriff or marshal – or any other figure of authority - people often took the law into their own hands.

 

In order for Johnny to get his mind off the scene Ben asked him to tell them more about his travels through Utah and Nevada, and again Johnny described the landscape that had fascinated him and the people he had encountered along his way. True to her nature Lilly couldn’t stop asking questions, and Johnny explained and elaborated on whatever she wanted to know.

 

As the two young people talked on, Ben watched them. Johnny, still a bit young and coltish, but much more mature than his looks would indicate – and Lilly. His beloved daughter. Willful, rash to judge, obstinate, and yet utterly feminine and soft. Their faces were illuminated by the flickering flames, and their looks and smiles indicated a connection beyond the things they were discussing, a connection that – given time and opportunity – could blossom into... a union.

 

Ben saw the future unfold in front of his very eyes.

 

“Susan... it is part of being married.”

 

“But what if I get pregnant again, Mark? I’m still nursing Jamie. If I get pregnant, the milk will stop flowing.”

 

But Mark Evans wasn’t swayed by this. After all, Susan had vowed to love, honor and obey him...

 

Over the next weeks Ben noticed changes in his willful daughter. She wore dresses more and more often, and took particular care to brush and pin up her hair properly. No more ponytails and wild curls around her face. It gave her a more grown-up look, and although she looked lovely and Ben could see that she felt very much at ease within her own skin, he wasn't sure he appreciated what it indicated.

 

But he couldn't help wonder at it all, how nature brought out what was necessary even in the most unlikely circumstances. Both Rachel and Lilly’s teacher Miss Hargrove had called Lilly a 'hoyden', and for years she had lived up to that reputation. But Ben had always known there was more to her true nature than just the rebellion she displayed. Inside his little girl was a true female, a caring and nurturing woman waiting to come out. The fact that this female was also passionate and explosive only served nature's purpose: a mother also needed to be ready to fight for her young ones.

 

Johnny, too, noticed the changes in Lilly, but his thoughts ran along other lines. He was still learning about women and their behavior, and for him Lilly became a model. More and more often he compared her to his mother and sister, and their differences couldn't be more pronounced. His mother had never been an equal partner to his father. When Johnny thought of her, all he could remember was her working her fingers to the bone. His sister hadn't been allowed to go to school on account of their mother needing her help in the house. His father had been very authoritative, and the atmosphere in their house had made his little sister extremely shy. To Johnny’s knowledge his sister – quite unlike Lilly - had never uttered an opinion on anything.

 

The winter evenings at the fire with Ben and Lilly were like a belated education for Johnny. They read and discussed books, and they talked about the world outside with the two men contributing their experiences. Those evenings created a feeling of ‘home’ in Johnny, a feeling he hadn’t experienced since he had left the place of his birth after the death of his parents and sister.

 

Ben and Lilly, too, welcomed Johnny’s presence at their talks and felt that they gained from it. They were alike in character and in their outlook on life, and they rarely disagreed. Johnny’s comments often provided a new insight into things for them both. His views spoke of the wide tolerance he employed when dealing with all kinds of people and that was a hallmark of his.

 

The three of them enjoyed their evening ritual. They knew that as soon as spring came, their workload would explode and those cozy evenings at the fire would become a thing of the past.

 

“And that’s why... I would like to quit.”

 

Jason stood there, hat in hand, his eyes glued to the tips of his shoes. He didn’t dare look into Ben’s eyes. For more than seventeen years he had been working on the Horseshoe Ranch, and now he was giving his notice without a warning.

 

“Lucy’s a fine girl,” Ben said. “You couldn’t do better.”

 

Jason looked up. His boss was smirking and raised his cup of coffee in salute.

“Congratulations.”

 

Jason heaved a sigh – of relief and contentment. A shy smile appeared on his face.

 

“Aye... she’s a sweet lassie.”

 

“So, when you wanna leave?” Ben asked.

 

“Lucy says she wants to make some more money, so we can find us a nice place,” Jason answered. “But I told her I don’t wanna have her do no more night-shifts.”

 

Ben nodded. Naturally. Lucy was a girl from the saloon. Nobody wanted his girl to fuck other men.

 

“Wanna get her out o’ there, but I ain’t not got enough money yet.”

 

“Tell you what,” Ben said, “you stay till after the gelding, I’ll give you a hundred bucks.”

 

“A... a hundred?” Jason almost choked on the words, and even Johnny and Lilly were amazed at Ben’s generosity.

 

Ben took another sip from his cup, then he smiled at Jason.

 

“You wanna have some money left over to get her a ring, don’t you?” he asked.

 

 

"Should you be here?" Johnny asked Lilly. The young stallions were due to be gelded.

 

Ben and Lilly looked at him as if they were seeing him for the first time.

 

"Why not?" Lilly asked him. "I probably know more about it than you do." Some of the ranch hands smirked at that.

 

"But... you're a woman!" Johnny exclaimed, his distress obvious.

 

Ben couldn't suppress a smile. Lilly had seen the procedure of gelding since she had turned ten. Sometimes her presence and touch helped to calm down a nervous young stallion. There wasn't much that threw his girl off her stride, and most certainly not the gelding of a horse.

 

"Don't worry, Johnny," Ben said, "it's only horses that get gelded on my ranch."

 

The ranch hands broke into laughter at that. Johnny, duly chastised, blushed like a boy.

 

"Daddy!" Lilly exclaimed angrily.

 

"What?" Ben asked innocently.

 

"That was mean!"

 

Ben smirked but Lilly wouldn't give in. Her hands found their way to her hips and she looked at her father provocatively.

 

"All right, Little Flower, no harm done. Let's get to work now."

 

The gelding left Johnny sick and in a state of shock. Young and sensitive, he identified with the animals. Once the work was under way, the horses picked up on the frightened whinnies of their playmates and started panicking. Johnny couldn’t bring himself to calm them down. He felt like he was betraying them. After all, they were being led to the slaughter, weren’t they?

 

It was Ben who led the youngsters to the scene of the crime, then backed off immediately. He didn’t want the horses to connect him with the pain that was to come. It would make it impossible for him to handle them later on.

 

When the day’s work was over and Ben asked Lilly to prepare supper for them, Johnny walked off without a word. He was incapable of taking any more.

 

Lilly saw it and followed him.  “Johnny...”

 

He sat on a bale of straw, hunched over, his head hanging. Lilly crouched down in front of him, placing her hands on his wrists.

 

“They will be alright, Johnny. Couple of days, then they have forgotten the pain.”

He shrugged her off. He didn’t want to be consoled. The shrieking of the young animals, their blood and pain stood in front of his inner eye.

 

“Johnny... what is it you are so bothered about?”

 

At this he straightened and looked up. His face still displayed the horror he had felt. She was right. He had to shake this off, behave like a man.

 

It was this effort of his that made Lilly understand. He wasn’t squeamish as she had first thought. He had identified with the horses. He was a man, too, and had felt their pain as if he himself had been...

 

She got up quickly, her face red with embarrassment.

 

“I’m sorry,” Johnny said. “I made a disgrace of myself.”

 

“No.” She shook her head. No, he hadn’t. She had understood this only now.

 

“You didn’t. All the ranch hands feel the same. They just don’t show it.”

 

He sat there staring in front of himself. Softly, she touched his shoulder. Then her hand moved up to his hair, stroking it. After a while, Johnny responded. Still sitting he hugged his arms around her waist and rested his head on her stomach. She continued stroking his hair.

 

He took several deep breaths to calm down, and they shifted his mood. He looked up at her.

 

His eyes were different... burning. What was on his mind?

 

In a flowing movement he stood up, his arms gathering her in an embrace. He waited only the second it took for her to look up at his face, and his mouth engulfed hers.

 

His kiss was passionate. It was an echo of the agitation and emotions still burning in him. But Lilly was too inexperienced to understand this. She was quite swept away. For the first time he had taken the initiative. For the first time his touch was not tentative and shy but decisive and bold. She felt her body respond in a way it hadn’t before.

 

Johnny felt her melt in his arms, and it fired him even more. After that first passionate, almost brutal kiss his anguish was spent, and the tenderness he felt for her swept up in him again. His tongue explored her mouth while his hand in her hair softly held her head in place. His other hand roamed all over her body, taking in her curves. He felt himself getting hard. If he didn’t stop this kiss soon, he wouldn’t be able to stop at all...

 

Lilly felt him back off and her arms clasped around his back. But carefully, tenderly – decisively - Johnny’s hands cupped her cheeks and he broke their kiss. As he looked into her eyes they filled with tears. He shook his head.

 

“I don’t want to stop, Lilly. But we have to.”

 

“Why?” she whispered.

 

That stunned him. “Why?” he laughed. “Your father would have my hide! – If he ever finds out about this...” he whispered, leaving the sentence unfinished.

 

A shudder ran through his body. But it wasn’t fear. It was an aftermath of the arousal he felt.

 

Lilly wasn’t convinced. She didn’t perceive her father as a threat to their love. But Johnny had broken their kiss, and it was the end of a long, hard day. Supper wasn’t ready yet... their mood had changed, the opportunity was gone.

 

“Let’s go inside, Johnny,” Lilly said.

 

He quickly embraced her and stole another kiss before preceeding her to the barn door to open it for her.

 

At that moment Ben entered the barn to look for Lilly.

 

“Hey... when do we get supper?”

 

“Now, Daddy.” Lilly left the stable.

 

“You okay, boy?” Ben asked Johnny.

 

Johnny blushed, but he nodded. He wasn’t really willing to tell his employer why he felt better.

 

“Yes, sir.” He, too, left the stable, leaving a somewhat suspicious Ben behind. Why was it Johnny had blushed? Had he been embarrassed because he had run off, or was there more to blush about?

 

"Daddy... It's spring. It isn't so cold anymore, you know. We just want to enjoy the sunshine."

 

"I said 'No', Lilly."

 

"But, Daddy..."

 

Ben was brushing Fetlocks, but at Lilly’s stubbornness he turned abruptly and faced her.

 

She was standing there – hurt by his refusal.

 

It wasn't about the warming weather. Ben knew how the two young people were cautiously watching each other's every move. With him – or one of the ranch hands – always in sight, they hardly had a moment to themselves. Even at dinner or afterwards in front of the fire Ben was always present, and Lilly and Johnny were never totally free to explore their feelings.

 

Lilly hung her head in defeat.

 

"Lilly... look at me."

 

When she looked up there were tears in her eyes. It was unfair.

 

"If you promise me that nothing will happen..."

 

"Happen...?" Lilly asked, not comprehending at first. Her eyes widened as she understood, and a fierce blush coloured her cheeks.

 

No. She hadn't planned anything. She was without guile.

 

Ben approached her. "All right, Little Flower. Take Johnny and have your picnic. The boy's been working hard enough. He deserves a day off."

 

Her radiant smile at his words made his heart contract again. He took a deep breath to control himself.

 

"Lilly... just a picnic..."

 

"I promise." Her words came quickly, perhaps a bit too quickly, but she didn't want to hear what he wanted to warn her about. She wanted to be with Johnny, have him to herself without the ever-watchful eyes of her father on them.

 

"Let's sit over there, Johnny, what do you think?" Lilly said and pointed to a large tree. Johnny nodded. The day was sunny, and although it wasn't hot yet the tree's shade looked cozy and was welcome.

 

"You brought a book?" Johnny said when they had settled down and Lilly took a volume out of her saddle bag.

 

"Hm... I thought we might read to each other."

 

"Good idea," Johnny said. With the days getting warmer, their cozy evenings at the fire were gone, and he missed them. "What book is it?"

 

"I brought the Bible."

 

"What?" Johnny was astonished.

 

"Why not?" Lilly asked.

 

Johnny laughed. "Come on. It's not exactly your favorite book, is it?" he said.

 

"I wanted to check out something."

 

"What?"

 

"Well... Daddy said something about the 'Song of Solomon' once."

 

"What did he say?"

 

"He said that there were really good things in it when you..." she fell silent, embarrassed by what she had almost said.

 

"When you... what?" Johnny asked.

 

Lilly blushed but didn't answer.

 

"You're not a coward, are you?" Johnny provoked her.

 

"When you are in love!" Lilly barked at him, scrambling up from the blanket and walking off a few yards, angry that he had forced the words out of her with his teasing.

 

After a moment she could hear and feel Johnny behind her. He placed his hands softly on her shoulders and buried his face in her curls.

 

"And are you... in love?" he whispered. She nodded.

 

His hands came around her shoulders and he hugged her, his face still buried in her hair hiding his smile.

 

"Here, look at this, Johnny!" Lilly exclaimed. They were sitting under the tree discovering the 'Song of Solomon'. Lilly raised the book from her lap and held it in front of her eyes. Triumphantly she read aloud: "'I am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys.'"

 

Her slight stressing of the word 'lily' wasn't lost on Johnny and he exaggerated making eyes at her. Giggling, and just a little bit self-conscious because of his reaction, Lilly blushed and put the book back in her lap.

 

"You're cheating!" Johnny exclaimed indignantly.

 

"No, I'm not!" Lilly was offended.

 

"Here, look!" She pointed to the verse she had quoted. Johnny came closer, and together they bent over the pages and read on. The next verse caught Johnny's eye, and he quoted aloud: "'As the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters.'"

 

He smiled, and they looked at each other.

 

"It's true, you know, Lilly," he said. Lilly felt her cheeks get hot and bent down again to read on. The next verse was spoken by the woman, and so Lilly quoted

"'As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste.'"

 

Her voice had become increasingly quiet. She was almost whispering the last words the image they conjured up strong in her. Johnny bent over her lips and kissed her softly. But then he grew shy again and withdrew.

 

"You know, Johnny," Lilly said, "I will never be able to eat an apple again without thinking of you."

 

This time it was Johnny who blushed. Lilly smiled and touched his hand. He wasn't quite as self-assured as he let on. Strangely enough, this made her feel safer and more at ease with her own insecurity.

 

"Listen to this, Johnny," she continued reading, "...'his left hand is under my head, and his right hand doth embrace me.' – Now how is that going to work?" Lilly was confused.

 

"That's easy, isn't it?" Johnny answered. He turned so that he sat in front of her and gingerly placed his left hand at the back of her head.

 

"Johnny... it says 'under my head'," Lilly corrected.

 

"Then you have to lie down." He pushed her lightly, and she sank back onto the blanket. He lay down beside her and put his left hand under her head.

 

"'...and his right hand doth embrace me...'," Lilly quoted silently.

 

Johnny didn't quite know where to place his right hand. How did you embrace someone with just one hand? It hovered over her form, over her breasts and her belly before it came down to lie on her hip.

 

"That's not 'embracing'," Lilly whispered.

 

Slowly, Johnny bent over her and covered her body with his, his right hand and arm snaking under her back. With his left hand still under her head he tried to hug her, but because he couldn't balance his weight on just one elbow he slipped and fell on her, his hug becoming a full body-hug, pinning her onto the blanket.

 

Lilly hugged him back. They were comfortable for a few seconds, but then they became self-conscious and drew apart. They were still too shy to take this any further.

 

To cover their embarrassment they picked up the book again, trying to find lines to read that wouldn't embarrass them. But it wasn't until the very end of the chapter that Lilly found the courage to softly quote the line she read: "My beloved is mine, and I am his: he feedeth among the lilies."

 

"'Feed'..." Johnny repeated.

 

They fell silent and didn't dare look at each other. Naturally, it meant 'consummation'. To have this act compared to something as elemental as food was a new thought for both of them, and they didn't dare look at each other, afraid their eyes would give away their feelings.

 

"I think we should pack and get back," Johnny said to fill the silence.

 

It was almost dark when they returned. Ben was standing in the ranch yard watching their approach.

 

"You are pretty late, young lady. Johnny. May I ask what you were up to?"

 

Lilly opened her mouth but didn't quite know what to say. She was positive she couldn't lie to her father, and she didn't want to tell the truth. "We... went for a picnic," she said lamely. "Then we started talking and forgot the time."

 

Ben raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms in front of his chest, waiting for more.

 

"We were reading," Johnny supplied support.

 

Ben looked at him. "Reading?"

 

"Yes!" Lilly had shouted it. Her temper didn't quite fit the situation, and it betrayed her feelings to Ben: she was guilty about something. Ben was sure she hadn't broken her promise. He knew them both too well, and Johnny’s behaviour towards him was much too calm for such a huge step. But why was Lilly so upset? He decided to probe a bit further.

 

"You must have read a real interesting book to forget time like this..."

 

To Lilly, this was pure provocation. But Johnny knew that Ben had every right to question them. After all, he had been very generous in allowing them to go off unchaperoned. Johnny was scared that Lilly might explode. She was so unpredictable, she could easily mistake Ben's rightful question as a challenge and launch herself into an argument with her father.

 

"We did nothing wrong, Sir. We sat under a tree and read. The Bible," he added to forcify his point.

 

Lilly closed her eyes. She groaned inwardly. That was precisely what she had wanted to hide. Now her father knew exactly what they had read about. After all, he himself had been the one who had recommended the ‘Song of Solomon’ to her years ago. She could feel anger bubbling up in herself. Lilly slid down from her horse and to occupy her hands she loosened the girth of her saddle.

 

Upon hearing Johnny's answer a whole myriad of emotions ran through Ben. His satisfied smile that he had been right was quickly replaced by a feeling of loss that cut right into him. He took several deep breaths to stay calm. And the overriding emotion that remained with him in the end was the knowledge that his little girl had begun to explore love.

 

Nobody wanted others to find out about their endeavours in love. Neither their father, nor anybody else. The knowledge of his daughter becoming a woman and leaving him behind might be painful to him, but it was embarrassing and humiliating to her to be bared to him with her most private emotions. Ben understood well how his quick-tempered child felt at that moment. In spite of their closeness it was still necessary to have a few personal secrets. He had them, too. Sometimes one needed to hide within oneself.

 

He didn't want Lilly to feel humiliated. But how to explain this to her in full view of Johnny?

 

Ben observed her.

 

The way she handled the saddle girth demonstrated how irritated she was over his knowledge. He approached her from behind and placed his hands on her shoulders – exactly like Johnny had this afternoon. Then he kissed her cheek, his beard scratching her soft skin.

 

"I am happy for you, Little Flower," he said quietly into her ear. He didn't want to let her go just yet, and for a moment he pressed his cheek to hers, squeezing her shoulders. Then he made for the stable, hiding from her and Johnny, trying to run away from his feelings and the fact that from now on Lilly no longer belonged exclusively to him.

 

Lilly was looking at his retreating back. He knew and he approved. No, more than that: he welcomed it and shared her happiness. Her eyes filled with tears. Was there any man quite like her father?

 

 

Susan Evans was nursing her youngest boy, Jamie.

Sweet Mother of Jesus! Her breasts were hurting so much! It was as if Jamie was sucking her dry. She had never had a greedier child. She just had to take him away for a minute and give herself a break.

Jamie cried; he was still hungry. But Susan had had enough. Her breasts were sore. And over the last days her occasional headaches had turned into a constant affliction. She poured herself a glass of water and drank it thirstily, but it didn’t help. No matter how much she drank, it didn’t get better. What she needed was rest!

 

She meant to sit down on the armchair for a brief nap but then she heard Daniel and Margret fight over a toy. Sighing, she rose from the chair.

 

The dishes weren’t cleaned. The laundry needed to be done. And she mustn’t forget to mend Mark’s shirt. He could be very unpleasant when she neglected her duties...

 

 

“That’s no good,” Ben said. “We need another man. Where’s that new man... what’s his name? Jack?” he asked Matt, but Matt just shrugged his shoulders.

 

“Last time I saw him he was in our shack,” he said, referring to the men’s quarters. Jack was a good worker, but he was easily distracted. If he got into a chat or a game with the other ranch hands he forgot everything around him.

Johnny saw Ben’s eyes grow hard, and in an attempt to avoid trouble for Jack he forestalled Ben and anything he might say or do.

 

“I’ll get him,” he said and headed for the men’s quarters.

 

"Riding out there all the way to read a book? What a joke! If you ask me there's only one reason a man wants to be alone with a girl..."

 

Laughter followed.

 

"Oh, and what reason is that?" Johnny asked.

 

Nobody had seen him come into the men's quarters, and at his words a silence settled over the room.

 

“Well...?” Johnny confronted the man who had spoken.

 

The sounds of someone crashing through a door and a yell of pain reached Ben and Matt and made them come out of the barn.

 

They saw Jack being hurled into the dust by Johnny. The men who had been inside listening to Jack’s witty remarks about Johnny and Lilly all ran out to watch the fight.

 

Johnny didn’t give Jack time to recover from his first blow. In a rage neither Ben nor any of the men had ever seen in Johnny he smashed Jack around without the older man having a chance to hit back. Blow after blow rained down on him.

 

This was strange, Ben thought. Johnny was such a calm and controlled man. He hadn’t shown any violence before. Whatever Jack had done to offend him, it must have been really bad.

 

The fight only lasted a few minutes. It wasn’t before Jack lay in the dust bleeding, his face and head hidden between his arms, that Johnny stopped and took in his surroundings again.

 

Ben walked over. "What was that about?"

 

Johnny used his sleeve to wipe the dust and sweat from his face. "Nothing."

 

He wanted to walk away, but Ben's hand on his chest stopped him.

 

"Nothing?" Ben asked, his voice soft and purring.

 

Johnny hesitated. How to tell his employer that he had had to fight for the honor of his daughter when it was Johnny himself who had put that honor in jeopardy?

 

Ben saw the determination in Johnny's face. The young man raised his chin, his whole body straightened and he took a deep breath.

 

"It was nothing," he said, waiting calmly for Ben's move.

 

Quickly, Ben's eyes darted to the man lying in the dust. Fear was written all over Jack's bruised face. Fear of him, Ben. Whatever it was they had been fighting about, Ben understood that at the moment Johnny – by putting himself in Ben's way – was actually protecting the ranch hand.

 

Ben looked at Johnny again. "You still don't want to tell me?" he asked.

 

Johnny thought about it a moment, but then shook his head. "No, sir."

 

'Sir'. The way the boy was standing there was way too stiff. Must be an honour thing or something, Ben thought.

 

"All right," Ben nodded, and with a jerk of his head he dismissed Jack, who was glad to be able to get away.

 

A last searching look into Johnny’s face but the young man gave nothing away. Wistfully, Ben nodded again. Well... he would learn about it all sooner or later.

 

Lilly never found out about their fight. For days now she had been living in a world of her own. Both the kiss she had exchanged with Johnny in the barn and the private outing they had had lingered in her mind and fired her fantasies. Daily they grew more exciting, more daring, and she was eyeing Johnny, feeling more and more frustrated that he wouldn’t make a move.

 

Johnny didn’t dare. He loved her too much, and he was scared any further closeness would make him forget himself. The fight with Jack had shown him how he really felt about Lilly. But it had been Ben’s reaction that had given him cause to pause and think about their actual situation.

 

He liked and admired his employer. To him Ben wasn’t only a good horseman; he had become a teacher and a mentor - almost a substitute father. As much as he felt drawn to Lilly, Johnny didn’t want to do anything that might put his relationship with Ben in jeopardy.

 

As the days grew warmer and the first mares started getting into heat Ben and the ranch hands grouped the mares together into several herds and drove them to the outer meadows. Johnny had stayed behind on the ranch. It was the perfect opportunity for Lilly.

 

She had cornered him in the barn and they had kissed again. She had felt him shake under her touch, and get hard. She knew what that meant. After all, she had seen the matings of horses since she had been a child of four. But again, just like before, Johnny had broken off their kiss before things could get out of control. She felt frustrated.

 

“Don’t you want... more, Johnny?” Lilly asked.

 

“More?” Johnny echoed.

 

Lilly nodded, and he understood.

 

Alarmed, he took a step back. “No.” Johnny shook his head. It was impossible. Ben Warner would kill him if he touched her. Johnny might be a good worker and horseman, but being caught while making love to his employer’s daughter was something else. A wealthy rancher like Ben Warner could never accept someone like Johnny for a son-in-law: he was a nobody from nowhere.

 

Lilly’s face fell at Johnny’s refusal, but then his hands gripped softly into her shoulders, and he drew her to him to hug her.

 

“That wouldn't be right, Lilly,” he whispered in her ear. He rubbed his nose in her hair. He loved her. There had to be a way to court her, to prove to her father that he was good enough for her. But how?

 

Lilly felt the tears escape her eyes. Hot tears of frustration. He wouldn’t take the first step. He was too honourable. She had to find a way to seduce him...

 

 

"Are you sure?" Sandy Evans asked her sister-in-law Susan.

 

"Yes!" Susan Evans started to sob.

 

Sandy stroked her head while she cried. Looking over Susan’s head Sandy and her husband William exchanged a glance. William frowned and shook his head. Another child. The sixth in six years of marriage...

 

"I don't know what to do!" Susan was desperate. "I'm still nursing Jamie, and little Margret is walking all over the place. I have to be after her constantly... And there's Charlotte and Daniel... there's so much to do. Sometimes I am so tired..." She shrugged helplessly and hung her head again.

 

Sandy only nodded. Susan had given birth each year of her marriage. To Sandy it seemed that she was pregnant all the time. And yet, she never seemed to question her lot in life, always seemed quietly content tending to her brood. It was the first time that Sandy realized how unhappy Susan was.

 

How different her own life was. Sandy had been married to William for five years now. So far they didn't have any children. It was their mutual choice. Being an ex-whore Sandy knew about preventing conception. Although those methods didn't always work, Sandy and William enjoyed a healthy sexlife without the threat of constant pregnancy. This and their success in building up their farm together had made them grow close... closer than Sandy had imagined it was possible to be. Recently, they had been talking about a child. But they had both agreed on the fact that Susan's lot was not to be imitated. Should she give Susan the chance to get rid of the child? Sandy wondered.

 

"Susan," she began and bent over her sister-in-law, hugging her arm around Susan's shoulders, "don't cry. Sometimes a child doesn't grow to be born..."

 

A gesture from William shut her up. They exchanged a look and William shook his head. Sandy could read his thoughts right off his handsome face. ’Don’t do it, Sandy. It’s too dangerous. She is too religious, and she will not be grateful for the knowledge you have to offer. If she or Mark learn that you know how to bleed a child from your body, they will report you to the Reverend. And he will humiliate you publicly in church and make you an outcast in this town.’

 

Oh, yes. Sandy understood the silent message William's worried look sent her. She sighed. Sometimes, religious people increased their own burdens.

 

 

“See, Johnny. They don’t get along with each other. No use forcing them.” Ben pointed to two mares who had started fighting – again. With a sigh he took a halter and opened the gate to get the lower ranked mare out.

 

Teaming up horses was tricky business, Johnny found. Some horses simply didn’t get along with each other. In the racing stable in Kentucky where he had learned about horses first, each horse had had its own box. If they didn’t like each other it didn’t matter: they couldn’t fight because they were kept apart. But since he had come to work on Ben’s ranch Johnny had understood how unnatural it was for a social animal like a horse to be imprisoned next to its mates without a chance for real contact. No wonder the racing horses were skittish when handled. And no wonder they tried to run off their frustration on the racecourse. It all made sense now.

 

Out in the wild when two horses didn’t like each other this wasn’t a problem. There was always space to avoid one another. But imprisoned on a meadow – no matter how spacious – they couldn’t get away, and it drove the animals to work out their rankings and their dislikes of each other in a much more violent way.

 

“Come on, girl. We’ll get you to the paddock.” Ben led the mare to Johnny and they both mounted their hoses. The mare would be taken to a paddock and teamed up with a stallion of her choice.

 

“Clever girl,” Ben remarked. “This way you get to pick your lover.” He chuckled and Johnny grinned.

 

“Is that how horses team up in the wild?” Johnny asked, no longer embarrassed to show his ignorance with Ben. “The mare chooses the stallion?”

 

“Nah. Horses aren’t people, Johnny. In the wild it’s the lead stallion who gets all the fun. But I have seen mares prance around another stallion when they were interested. – Don’t know really if they get lucky this way,” he added wistfully. “Can’t run off from the herd for their private fun like people can. It’s too dangerous for them.”

 

“How do you know so much about wild horses?” Johnny couldn’t help asking.

 

“Seen them when I was younger. I once followed a herd of mustangs for a few days,” Ben explained. “Were quite a lot of mares in foal in that herd. Beautiful animals,” he added.

 

“How did you come to be out in the wild on your own?” Johnny asked curiously.

 

Ben turned and smiled at him.

 

This was something Johnny would never learn. Naturally, it had been during his life as an outlaw. He had been between jobs... between gangs, really. With his pockets full of money and on his way to one of the flashy cities in the West he had camped under the stars when he had herd their whinnies: wild mustangs hiding in the mountains from their most merciless predators: men. He had observed and followed the mustangs for almost a week, indulging in a rhythm of life he had enjoyed hugely.

 

They passed the paddock where Fetlocks was housed. Ben whistled, and Fetlocks came to the fence. After he had released the mare into the paddock, Ben caressed Fetlocks.

 

Yes, a rhythm he had enjoyed very much...

 

Johnny was still looking expectantly at him.

 

The boy was a good worker. And a decent man. Over the last months he had grown fond of Johnny’s shy and friendly way. Johnny had grown into a friend, almost... a son.

 

“Sir?” Johnny felt uncomfortable under Ben’s suddenly scrutinizing gaze. He didn’t know what to make of it.

 

“Not ‘sir’,” Ben said. “Ben.”

 

“Huh...?”

 

“My name is ‘Ben’, Johnny.” Ben smiled at him.

 

Johnny swallowed hard. The offer took him by surprise. Ben was a secretive man, quietly observing everything and everybody but seldom letting on about his thoughts. That Ben offered to become friends was like a sign.

 

Perhaps Lilly wasn’t too far out of reach after all...

 

 

“You sure, Charlie?” Ben asked. His foreman had just come and told him that he wanted to leave the ranch and work for a cattle rancher in Arizona. Ben accepted the resignation without any further ado, his question only rhetoric. He had seen it coming.

 

“Aye, boss. Won’t do no good any more. Want to go before I go busting the boy’s head.”

 

A smile graced Ben’s lips. Busting Johnny’s head? - I don’t think you could, Charlie, he thought but didn’t say it. Another problem solved. With Charlie gone Ben could begin to build up Johnny as foreman and, perhaps, one day as his successor...

 

 

“Is that Mr. Simpson from the telegraph office?” Lilly asked, pointing to a man who just came out of the house. The man mounted his horse and left. Made curious, Lilly headed for the house. Johnny followed her.

 

When they entered they found Ben sitting in an armchair, a full glass in his hand. The bottle of whisky stood beside him.

 

Both Johnny and Lilly were confused. It wasn't usual for Ben to drink.

 

"Daddy, what happened?" Lilly placed her hand on Ben's shoulder. Ben looked up at her. His face wore a serious look, his eyes were dark, almost threatening.

 

"Daddy...?" Lilly was getting scared.

 

Ben handed her a letter. "From Tommy. Came with the last stagecoach. Mr. Simpson just brought it."

 

Lilly took the letter and unfolded it. Johnny had approached, and she read aloud so he would hear.

 

"Dear Father, dear Lilly,
This is to inform you that my wife Elizabeth Ann died in childbirth, giving birth to our fourth son Robert Ian Cole on April 7th. The boy is healthy, and with the help of a newly hired wet nurse I am assured he will thrive and prosper.
Your loving son and brother,
Thomas Dalton"

 

Lilly stared at Johnny, tears forming in her eyes. Johnny stepped up to her and gently enfolded her in his arms.

 

Ben rose, downed his whisky and said sarcastically, "He bothered to let us know after three months. Obviously there are no telegraph offices in the up and coming city of Chicago!"

 

Lilly was crying in Johnny's arms. Johnny held her tighter, both of them heedless of Ben’s presence.

 

"How can he be so heartless?" she sobbed.

 

"The boy has been gone too long. Chicago has gotten to his head," Ben said. "I've seen it before in young men: Money in your pocket in a big city, and you can have everything you want... everything you imagine yourself to need."

 

He put the empty glass on the table forcefully and walked up the stairs, vanishing in his bedroom.

 

Lilly didn't want to leave Johnny's embrace just yet. She held on tight, hiding her face in his chest.

 

Johnny didn't dare move. It was the first time that Lilly needed comfort. He wasn't sure what to do. He held her, murmuring softly, his nose and mouth in her hair until, very slowly, he felt her calm down.

 

The next morning at the breakfast table Ben announced,"I've decided to go to Chicago.”

 

Ben looked at the young man sitting across the table. “Do you think you can handle the training of the young ones and take care of the mares and the stallions for a couple of weeks?"

 

"Yes, sir."

 

"What are you going to do when you get there?" Lilly asked.

 

Ben sighed. "I don't know, sweetie. Guess I just have to see the boy again. It's been too long." He fixed her with a stare. "You make sure everything is running smoothly here?" he asked his daughter.

 

Lilly raised her chin. "Of course! What do you take me for?"

 

Johnny smiled his shy smile of amusement mixed with adoration. Ben caught it out of the corner of his eyes.

 

"Do you think you can keep her under control?" he asked Johnny with a provocative snarl. Johnny was so caught off guard he choked on his egg.

 

Ben and Lilly laughed heartily and Ben slapped Johnny's back a few times. Johnny's eyes were tearing up from the choking but he had to laugh, too. He loved those banters. But although he was slowly getting used to them, between them, Ben and Lilly always managed to completely stun him.

 

"Don't you worry, Ben. I'll do what is necessary to keep Lilly under control," Johnny said, keeping a straight face and helping himself to more eggs.

 

Quite predictably, Lilly's look changed to one of incredulity at Johnny’s words. She breathed in deeply...

 

"Good. Seems you're growing into a man," Ben remarked.

 

Whatever his daughter had wanted to say, Ben's line silenced her... for the time being.

 

When Ben said good-bye he took both Johnny and Lilly aside separately.

 

"You promise me nothing's gonna happen, Little Flower?" he asked his daughter. Lilly's chin came up. Why should she have to do that? Ben saw her gesture, but he stayed calm. His eyes held hers for a long time and conveyed his thoughts. Finally, Lilly nodded. Ben kissed her forehead and she stepped aside.

 

Johnny brought Ben's horse. "Take good care of her," Ben said to him. Johnny nodded. Of course he would. His eyes said it clearly.

 

Yes, of course, you will, Johnny. But you have no idea what it means to entrust your baby girl to an amorous young man for several weeks, however reliable he might be. Ben held out his hand, and Johnny took it with a serious look. Ben nodded and mounted. He had tried his best to impress a sense of responsibility onto both of them. He was well aware of the fact that what happened from now on was beyond his control.

 

 

“Now then, Mrs. Evans, this is the powder. All you do is put it in a glass of water and drink it. After an hour or so you will bleed – a bit more than usual, but that’s quickly cleaned up. You understand?”

 

Susan Evans nodded, a lump in her throat. The woman, a self-proclaimed curer of ‘women’s trouble’, handed her a small paper in which she had packed quinine. Susan eyed it warily, not quite sure what to make of it.

 

“Don’t worry about quality. The powder is fresh and strong. I just got a new delivery.”

 

Her customer didn’t seem convinced.

 

“You just ask the whores in the saloon. Some got their own recipe but most of them use my powder. ”

 

That earned the woman an incredulous stare from Susan Evans. After all, she was a married woman. A Christian woman. She didn’t like being compared to whores.

 

“You have the money?”

 

Susan nodded. She handed over five dollars. Five dollars! It wouldn’t be easy to explain where they had gone to – Mark supervised all her expenditures – but she simply couldn’t give birth to another child. She knew that Mark would never tolerate what she was about to do. This was her secret, a secret that no one would ever know about.

 

 

Carefully, Lilly opened the barn door.

 

“Johnny...”

 

The soft voice behind him ran all along his spine and made him shiver. He couldn’t turn for fear his resolve would crumble. To mask his shyness he continued putting away the tools he had been using.

 

Lilly approached him from behind.

 

“Did you send the hands away?” she asked, her voice carefully neutral. What if he hadn’t done what she had asked him to do? What if he didn’t want to lie with her?

 

Johnny swallowed hard. There was no way he could talk; he was all nerves. He just nodded.

 

She placed her hand on his back between his shoulders and marvelled at how small it looked against his frame. His temperature rose. Her touch was so soft.

 

“What did you tell them?”

 

He cleared his throat. “I told them to check the fences on all the meadows because we will be taking the youngsters and the foals there tomorrow. They'll be gone a few hours at least.”

 

With his little speech he had overcome his nervousness and he turned to face her. When he looked at her she cast down her eyes, embarrassed. He could see that her cheeks were all flushed. She was just as nervous as he was; it was all right! He raised his hands...

 

His smile was so soft. His hands, which cupped her face and his thumbs which stroked over her cheeks, were so tender.

 

Johnny bent and tilted his head to kiss her. For a long, sweet moment they did nothing except feeding on each other’s lips.

 

A warm feeling of safety washed over Lilly and took her by surprise. She had only ever felt like this in the presence of her father.

 

How sweet and soft she was. How feminine. How adorable... When he held her in his arms the gravity of what he had done hit him: he had sent the ranch hands away so that he could lie with her.

 

For a moment he hesitated again, but Lilly ran her hands all over his body, revelling in the knowledge that they couldn’t be disturbed, and that they could finally consummate their love. It was too much to stand still, and it wasn’t enough! He kissed her again, his hand in her hair this time, pressing her closer. When he felt her body pressing against him, his excitement rose. Cautiously, he disengaged himself. What if she had felt him getting hard? Wouldn’t it scare her off?

 

Lilly didn’t give him any time to think. She undid the buttons on her dress. When she shrugged out of her blouse Johnny became aware of the fact that he was staring at her, and to mask his unease he undressed, too.

 

He was beautiful! Lilly was glad Johnny had finally found the courage to take this step. She lowered herself onto the blanket she had spread over the straw and looked up at him. Overwhelmed by the situation Johnny just stood there and looked her at. Seeing her naked somehow made everything unreal. She held out her hand, and when he took it she pulled him down. As if in trance, Johnny let himself being pulled on top of her. But then he realized something.

 

"Lilly..." Johnny looked at her. "I've never done this before," he confessed.

 

Lilly stroked his cheek. "But you know how to do it, Johnny, don't you?" she asked.

 

He swallowed and nodded. She smiled at him encouragingly. He positioned his cock at her entry. Lilly could feel the tip at her folds.

 

"Johnny..."

 

Immediately he wanted to withdraw but she held his shoulders.

 

"I'll be careful, Lilly," he said to her, his voice a hoarse whisper.

 

But to his astonishment Lilly shook her head. "When you come into me the first time you must be firm and quick," she said.

 

"Why?" He didn't understand.

 

"There is a... barrier... sort of... you must break it. When you do it quickly it won't hurt," Lilly said to him.

 

"A barrier? How do you know?" He was confused.

 

Lilly smiled. A fond memory of Mattie Silk rushed through her. Mattie, who had died too soon but who had taught her everything she knew about men and women.. . well, apart from the things she had figured out by watching her father's horses and listening to the crude talk of the ranch hands...

 

"I know, Johnny," she simply said to him. Her hands cupped his cheeks and she pulled him down for a soft kiss. It was all the encouragement he needed. As soon as the kiss broke he made a strong push forward.

 

Lilly felt a sharp pain, then she could feel something trickle out of her. It was done. He was in her, not completely yet, but enough to fill her and make her wonder at the feeling. Tentatively, she squeezed to feel him better. It was an amazing feeling. She squeezed again, harder this time, and again. Above her she heard him gasp. Of course. She wasn't the only one to feel the magic of the moment. She looked into his face to see how he felt: his eyes were filled with tears.

 

After her words he had been scared. Scared of not doing it right, scared of being too strong, of hurting that willful girl who never ceased to amaze him. When she had spoken of what lay ahead, he had been willing to obey her in whatever she asked of him. He had just made up his mind when her kiss had triggered what was more an instinct than a conscious deed.

 

All that he had picked up from men bragging about their virility, all the images he had nursed in his head about women and sex, it hadn't prepared him for what he felt now. Being buried in Lilly was almost more than he could bear. He had actually entered her, entered another human being... no. Not another human being.

 

Her.

 

Lilly.

 

He had never felt like this before. His thoughts were whirling, and the blood that was pumping through his body was ringing in his ears.

 

 

When she looked at him and smiled, and when she then squeezed him again he couldn't control his body any longer. His hips moved, instinctively, pushing deeper into her before withdrawing again. After a few such pushes he could feel her respond. She had picked up on his rhythm and her body was moving in accordance with his. It was the age-old dance of mating, the most elemental expression of belonging to one another.

 

Aware of nothing but the friction at his body's most sensitive spot, Johnny moved without a thought. A fire coursed through his veins, warming his whole body. He broke out in sweat but at the same time he wanted more of this intoxicating feeling, needed more, and he conveyed his needs in thrusts that became stronger, deeper, more passionate.

 

Lilly tried to keep up with him but her emotions were different from his. She felt a huge tenderness and wanted nothing more than to cradle him in her arms. His body warmed hers, his movements and the friction they caused excited her, but they didn't yet elicit that special feeling her friend Mattie had spoken about. But then, Mattie had also said that a woman needed time to develop this feeling, and that it would come eventually. Johnny's body in and above her felt wonderful, and Lilly couldn't stop caressing him. His pushes became stronger and faster, and they warmed her and at the same time made her need more. It was like an itch that became worse the more it was scratched. But no itch had ever felt so good...

 

Lilly moaned, and it was the final trigger that pushed Johnny over the edge. He could feel his seed shoot out of him. It was an exquisite feeling, although so strong it felt almost like pain. At that moment his brain registered nothing except the white lights that were dancing in front of his closed eye-lids. Johnny felt as if his whole essence was streaming out of him and into Lilly, as if his very soul was flowing into her. Slowly he sank down to rest...

 

Lilly hadn't had an orgasm. Instead another feeling filled her heart: she felt the awesome power a woman had over a man in this intimate situation. Johnny's head lay on her breasts, his face was turned away, and his hair tickled her chin. He was still breathing heavily. Lilly ran her hands softly over every inch of his body that was within her reach, neck, shoulders, arms, back, hair... He raised his head and looked at her, the earlier tears in his eyes overflowing. It melted her heart. He was too shaken to be able to talk but his tears were message enough: he had given himself completely to her.

 

Was it important that she hadn't felt the same release? No. Inwardly she shook her head. There would be another time for it. Of this she was sure. The two lovers snuggled into each other's embrace for another moment of closeness. They knew there were many more of those waiting for them...

 

 

A week after its purchase the powder still lay hidden in the drawer which held the childrens' clothes. So far, Susan Evans hadn’t had the courage to use it. Lately, she was praying more and more often in front of their crucifix. Soon her pregnancy would begin to show, and then Mark would know. She had to decide soon. But could it be right to deprive a child of God of its life?

 

 

“I had no idea how beautiful it is here,” Johnny said.

 

Lilly had led him along the river behind the house to the very spot where her father had used to bathe with her and Tommy when they had both been children. She frowned. For a moment a memory crossed her mind, a painful memory of her father telling her that they couldn’t bathe together any longer because she was too old for it.

 

Johnny hadn’t noticed her pain. When Lilly had told him about bathing in the river, he had envisioned his girl naked in the stream, splashing water all over herself. His body tingled at the very idea of it.

 

“Lilly...” Johnny’s voice was soft, his hand gently touching her elbow, chasing away her memory, bringing her back to him.

 

“We could bathe if you want to...”

 

Ever since her father’s fateful words Lilly had refused to bathe in that river again. Suddenly, the desire to feel the cool water splash over her and the sun warming her skin afterwards was overwhelming. Her body felt as if it would expand at the thought of it, as if it were growing into that possibility.

 

“Yes! Let’s bathe, Johnny!”

 

Lilly chucked off her clothes faster than Johnny could react. Within moments she was naked. Without paying attention to Johnny, who was quite overwhelmed, she walked towards the river, and right into the water.

 

“Aaaaah... it’s cool! I had forgotten how wonderful it feels!” she exclaimed.

 

Johnny undressed and folded his clothes neatly beside the blanket and their picnic. His body betrayed him again. All he wanted to do was make love to his girl. He blushed and didn’t dare turn for her to see. Gingerly, he turned his head to see what she was doing.

 

Lilly was splashing in the water, paying no attention to him. The water was waist-deep. If he could get in without her noticing him he might be able to hide his rising erection...

 

The sun sparkled on the water, its movements reflected the sunlight. Lilly’s hands combed through the water, fascinated by the shimmering reflections brought on by the slight movement. Suddenly a shadow fell on her hands: Johnny.

 

How beautiful he was! Smiling, she reached for him, and he came to her...

 

“NO!” Shrieking like a child Lilly stomped through the water – running from Johnny. But Johnny merely laughed. It only took him a few strides, and he had caught up with her, embracing her, crushing her to his body.

 

Lilly let herself go limp and slumped in his arms.

 

“Lilly!” Johnny was scared and held her carefully above the water, walking towards the riverbank. What had happened?

 

Feeling his soft, careful embrace, Lilly suddenly ‘came to’. He stopped, holding her carefully. She found her footing, and struggled to stand up straight. Then, suddenly, she pushed him into the water and ran away again, laughing aloud.

 

Johnny surfaced, coughing water. For a moment he was dazzled. Then, when he saw her triumphant fact, he rose to his full height and feigned anger.

 

“You’ll pay for this, Lilly,” he said seriously, his hands clenching into fists. Then he walked towards her. Lilly screamed and stomped through the water, bracing the soft current of the river. But Johnny was in no hurry. He watched his girl trying to run away, his calm, efficient strides easily matching hers.

 

“You can run all the way back to the river’s source... I will get you,” Johnny threatened in a calm and serious voice.

 

She had to take a pause or she’d drop. Panting, Lilly stopped – and Johnny’s arms snatched her again.

 

“Gotcha!” he whispered, his mouth at her ear, his erection pressing against her cheeks. “I love you, my little ‘Lilly of the valley’.”

 

It made her melt. She turned and meant to hug him, but his eyes were so serious that the passion went right out of her. Instead, a tenderness for him filled her, and she reached up to cup his cheeks, dragging his face down to kiss him.

 

“Make love to me, Johnny,” she said after their kiss.

 

He bent his knees and tried to enter her standing in the water, but she couldn’t place her legs too far apart without losing her footing in the current. He didn’t realize this and in his impatience he used his own feet to pry hers apart. She lost her balance and clung to him, and he nearly lost his footing, too.

 

They both laughed. They weren’t so practised yet.

 

Their laughter made Lilly realize that in Johnny she had found an equal. Unlike her father, whom she loved dearly but who was always – always! – the superior one, Johnny was just like she was, young, inexperienced, bound to make mistakes, but courageous enough to try anyway. And as she clung on to him to gain a firm standing with him holding and helping her, she knew that he would support and protect her no matter what. That was the kind of man he was.

 

“Wait,” Johnny said softly, “just stand there and place your hands on my shoulders. I’ll do it.”

 

His arms came around her waist, and he bent his knees again. But when he tried to enter her, she was too tight. They were too inexperienced to understand that the water, by clearing away Lilly’s natural lubricant, prevented an easy entry. Johnny pushed, and Lilly gave a small cry. It hurt!

 

Scared by her scream, he stopped. He was at a loss as to what he should do next.

 

“Perhaps it only works lying down,” Lilly suggested, and Johnny nodded. Yes, that would be better. After all, they knew how this one worked.

 

They came back so late from their picnic that even the most tolerant of the ranch hands sniggered at the thought of the two of them. From that day on, they didn’t separate any longer. At night, Lilly slept in Johnny’s bed. 

 

A week later Ben was back.

 

"Tell us about Chicago, Daddy," Lilly said over her shoulder. She was stirring in the stew while Johnny set the table. Ben watched both of them at work. They were at ease with what they did and with each other. Johnny put his nose into the pot and Lilly beat him away with a towel, but Johnny just smiled at that. Ben could see that it wasn’t his usual shy smile any longer, but a smile full of cockyness and newfound self-assurance. Lilly took a spoon and fed him a titbit from the pot. Johnny smiled his approval. They hesitated for a moment, and it became clear that there was a breach in what seemed to Ben was a smooth ritual between the two. Obviously, without his presence their next move would have been something else...

 

Johnny sat down at the table and met Ben's gaze. The colour drained from his face. Was Ben Warner suspecting that he and Lilly had...?

 

"What are you two staring at each other for?" Lilly asked, looking at both of them. Johnny lowered his eyes and head, and they all started eating. Inconspicuously Ben watched them both. Johnny was still a bit pale. The way he had reacted to his look had been strange... as if he was guilty about something. Ben looked at Lilly. She was the exact opposite. Her look was calm. She was changed.

 

She was radiating a beauty and self-assurance that he had never seen on her before. Lilly was a woman at peace with herself. A woman? Yes, that was it. All evening a small smile had been playing around her lips, and several times she had hummed to herself while preparing the food. Her movements were more graceful, too, the swaying of her hips, the swish-swish of her skirt. There was no doubt about it: she was a woman now.

 

It was impossible to get angry at that thought. If anything, she only became dearer to him for it.

 

Somehow his thoughts had communicated to her. Lilly looked up, and father and daughter smiled at each other. She rose and walked up to him, and he sat back in his chair so she could sit on his knee. But she didn’t cuddle up in his lap as she used to. She stood by his side, her arm snaking around his neck. He looked up at her, and she smiled down at him, a happy, carefree smile.

 

"Chicago," she reminded him of her former remark.

 

Ben sighed. He released her from his embrace and stood up, fetching himself a glass of water.

 

"Tommy will get married next month," he said.

 

"What?"

 

Ben nodded. "He says he needs a mother for his children, and he has already found a young bride."

 

Lilly's eyes filled with tears. "He's already forgotten Elizabeth Ann?" she whispered.

 

Ben shook his head and downed his drink. "Lilly, a man never forgets a woman he's made love to." For a moment he closed his eyes. A frown crossed his forehead, and so he didn't catch the look and smile Johnny and Lilly exchanged at his remark.

 

"No, Tommy hasn't forgotten Elizabeth Ann. But his children are still small. And they need a mother," he added.

 

Lilly looked at her father somewhat provocatively. "I was small. But you never took a wife," she said to him.

 

"Yeah, well," Ben smiled, "maybe I wasn’t as attractive to the ladies as Tommy is. You thought of that, sweetie?"

 

"And Mattie?" Lilly whispered.

 

For a moment Ben had to close his eyes as an old pain swept through him.

 

"Don't talk about Mattie," he said, his voice almost as low as Lilly's whisper. He turned and, without saying good-night, vanished in his room.

 

There were a lot of things Ben hadn't told them about his stay in Chicago. In the short time that Ben had spent in the city he had begun to realize that the temptations of a big city filled a longing he hadn’t known he still harbored. Before he had built up his ranch he had always dreamt of going back to San Francisco one day, of finding again that excitement he had felt as a young man when he had courted and made love to the sea captain's daughter. True, most of the city folk were shallow, but then most of the country folk were dull. And a man like him could always find something to do and enjoy in a place like San Francisco.

 

But there had been things he had encountered in Chicago which stood in stark contrast to the city life he wished for.

 

Tommy had wanted Ben to come to certain society events. He wanted to show off his father, acquaint him with so-called important people.

 

Ben had given in to Tommy's request – and they had visited an elegant club. When the people Tommy introduced him to had learned about him running a horse ranch the 'crème of society' had tried to make him feel like a primitive man from the 'Wild West'. Imagine any man trying to make Ben Wade feel small! It just couldn't happen. During his years on the run Ben had seen and learned too much about the type of people he encountered here.

 

Ben Wade – even in the shape of 'Ben Warner' - was not easily taken advantage of by anybody, and his readiness to throw a Bible quote at those who had thought to outwit him easily put an effective stop to any further attempt to make fun of him. Whether they liked it or not, he was a force to reckon with.

 

For a few days Ben had even enjoyed himself. One of his more casual remarks had helped one of Tommy’s business partners solve a monetary problem, and he had the satisfaction that this man would forthwith be in debt to him and would, therefore, support Tommy and his business ideas. When one of Tommy’s clients had suggested Ben settle in Chicago to be closer to his son and to find other spheres of activity, he had seriously considered it.

But then something had happened, and the instinct to run had emerged again. Ben had spotted Grayson Butterfield, now respected President of the 'Southern Pacific Railroad' among the guests. Grayson Butterfield, who had accompanied the posse on the two-day ride to Contention and whom he had not seen in twenty years.

 

Apart from his hair and moustache having turned white and a few lines in his face Butterfield hadn't really changed that much, and Ben was able to recognize him easily. Just as he was sure that Butterfield would recognize him as well, him, Ben Wade, not 'Warner'!

 

Before the President of the Southern Pacific Railroad had a chance to be introduced to the rancher Ben Warner the 'rancher' had vanished silently from the premises, much to his son's chagrin.

 

The next day Ben had left Chicago.

 

 

When Johnny got down the next morning Ben was already up making coffee.

 

"Morning," he drawled.

 

"Morning," Johnny answered. "Sorry, I'm late."

 

Ben turned away to fetch the coffee-pot, a smirk on his face. The boy was as easy to read as an open book. His hair was still tousled, and he was fidgety as if he expected Lily to come out of his door at any minute. Ben poured them each a coffee, then sat down and helped himself to some eggs and bacon.

 

So far the two lovers had done their best to hide their actions – although he, Ben, had immediately spotted what must have transpired between them. And he was sure that everybody else on the ranch knew as well. Maybe it was better to let those two know that he knew, Ben thought. Put them out of their misery once and for all.

 

Carefully and with concentration Ben sliced his egg keeping his eyes firmly on his plate.

 

"Why is my daughter sleeping in your room, Johnny?"

 

Johnny had been reaching for the bread but Ben's words stopped him dead in his tracks. He was quick to retort

 

"We didn't do anyth..." but didn't finish the sentence. Ben Warner knew he had made love to his daughter. It was cowardly to deny it. In a helpless gesture Johnny's hand combed through his hair. He didn't know what to say.

 

"Aaaahh.... "

 

Ben looked up and Johnny caught the smugness on his face. Incredulity spread all over his handsome features.

 

"You approve?"

 

Ben chuckled. "Of course, I approve, boy. Do you think you would have ever gotten that far if I hadn't approved in the first place?" He shook his head. This was a bit naive of the boy – but then the rancher Ben Warner had a reputation for being generous. And so far there hadn't been any need to show Johnny the face of Ben Wade.

 

"Who knows? Lilly might have surprised you," Johnny answered.

 

They looked at each other. And Ben realized that Johnny was right. Lilly had a mind of her own. She might have sneaked out for secret encounters or run off with the young buck altogether. He knew that his daughter was capable of overly rash, extremely emotional, and completely stubborn acts, as long as they were in line with what she believed in – but then that was what he had taught her to be and it was one of the things he loved most about her.

 

He slowly nodded, took another sip of coffee and watched Johnny squirm under his gaze. Time to let him know what he thought of him.

 

"You are a good boy, Johnny, and you will be a fine man."

 

He speared another piece of bacon, his voice all soft and carefully modulated.

 

"You will be the perfect man for her, Johnny...." Ben made a dramatic pause and added "...once you learn how to handle her."

 

Smiling, he put the bacon in his mouth and chewed it with relish.

 

For the flicker of a moment a proud smile at his compliment crossed Johnny's face, but then he snorted and took up Ben's bait.

 

"Handle her?" he asked. "Care to teach me?"

 

Ben chuckled. Johnny had a good point. His, Ben's, way of controlling Lilly was certainly unique.

 

"I'm serious," Johnny said, "how do you handle it when you tell her to do something – and it's totally reasonable and sensible, and it's the best for her, too – and then she simply looks at you and shakes her curls and says 'No', and then she smiles at you so you can't even remember what you asked her to do?"

 

Ben laughed.

 

"I mean it! How do you handle that?"

 

Ben thought a moment about it. How did he handle it?

 

"By being firm," he finally said.

 

Johnny snorted somewhat derisively. "I'm not firm. So how will I be able to deal with her?" he asked.

 

There was a light of mischief in Ben's eyes. He had spotted his daughter who had come out of Johnny's bedroom and was leaning at the railing listening in on their conversation, but from where he sat Johnny couldn't see her. Ben gave him a conspiratorial wink.

 

"Well... as her... man you could always threaten to spank her."

 

At Ben's words Lilly crossed her arms, eying him menacingly. For a second Ben contemplated warning Johnny about her presence, but Johnny gave him no chance. He laughed heartily at Ben's words.

 

"She'd probably spank me back," he said, "and harder than I could, because I know I couldn't ever lay a hand on her."

 

He looked at Ben with the most serious look Ben had ever seen on the boy.

 

"Never... ever... in all my life have I loved someone the way I love Lilly," he said.

 

It was at precisely this moment that it took hold of Ben, the feeling he had been trying to evade all this time, the merciless fist in his stomach that told him that his daughter had finally slipped away from him. Throughout all their courtship and their antics Lilly had still retained her special good-night-kisses for him, her 'Daddy-I-love-you'-hugs, and they had shared their quiet moments together. But with the closeness that the two young lovers had found this was gone forever.

 

Ben knew that from now on his relationship with Lilly would shrink to an occasional hug, a routine kiss, a smile. Their special closeness would become a thing of the past, and she would replace him with this young man who now sat in front of him.

 

Ben fixed his eyes on his plate steadily. Was he ready to give her up? It took him quite a few bites to gain back his equilibrium. When he looked up Lilly had gone.

 

Johnny eyed Ben. "You know," he said, "I was always in awe of you. You made me feel like... well... like David and Goliath... know what I mean? The small boy from nowhere meeting the giant rancher...?"

 

Yeah, Ben thought, I guess that's a good example. However, there are better comparisons. His smile at Johnny was paternal.

 

"I am not Goliath," he said softly. And I don't think you'd make a King David, boy, he added in his thoughts.

 

"No. You are not. But Lilly thinks you are." Johnny looked at him.

 

The boy was right. Lilly worshipped him just like Ben adored her. But Ben also knew that it was only a matter of time when the blossoming of her love for Johnny would make this change. As a matter of fact he had felt it the very day before when Lilly had stood beside him, too grown-up to cuddle in his lap any longer...

 

"This has changed, Johnny. And it is you who changed it."

 

A flicker of a smile crossed Johnny's handsome face. He thought back to the previous night, remembering how Lilly had snuggled up to him, how her hand had stroked over his shoulder and how her breath had warmed his chest... Each of their kisses was etched into his memory, singing in his veins...

 

Ben met the boy's gaze. He was way too easy to read. Every emotion was written on his face. This boy should definitely never play poker. And he was definitely sitting too close to some jealous father! Abruptly Ben got up and placed his empty plate in the sink with a loud clatter.

 

 

“Thank you for doing this, Sandy.”

 

Susan handed Jamie over to Sandy. Daniel, Margret and Charlotte had already invaded Sandy’s home, heading straight for the apple basket.

 

“You say that as if it was a big deal, Susan. I love having your children around,” Sandy said. It was true. Although she wouldn’t have wanted them around constantly, she liked tending to Susan’s brood. And the children loved her home.

 

“Daniel!” Susan exclaimed angrily. She made for her oldest son, who had been taking an apple out of the fruit basket and was munching it. His siblings were trying to reach the basket, too, but they were still too small. Behind Susan’s back Sandy smiled at them.

 

“It’s okay, Susan. Really, it is,” Sandy stopped her when she pried the apple from her little son’s hands.

 

“It’s not okay,” Susan said. “This is stealing!”

 

“He’s only a little boy,” Sandy said. “I don’t know how you manage to keep your children away from the food. I only know I can’t,” Sandy laughed.

 

“I don’t,” Susan said. “There is no food on display in my house. I lock it all away.”

 

Sandy fell silent, unable to keep the shock she felt from showing on her face. Locking her food away, so that her hungry children couldn’t get to it?

 

Susan saw Sandy’s expression and turned away. Sandy had been a whore. She would never understand the principles of a Christian household. “I have to go.”

 

“Why don’t you stay and drink a cup of coffee with me?” Sandy invited her.

 

“No. I don’t have time. I’ve got to be back before Mark gets home,” Susan said.

 

Sandy watched Susan climb up on the wagon with which she had brought the children and drive off. What Susan could possible derive from the company of the ‘group of Christian women’ in town was beyond Sandy. But then, she had been used to the company of the saloon girls. And even though they had been competitors, occasionally they had also been friends – the only ones Sandy had ever had. Perhaps, she reasoned, it was the same with Susan.

 

Again, Sandy became aware of how isolated Susan must feel in her house with only the company of children around. Perhaps she should have done more. Make her stay. Insist on her having a coffee first before leaving. That way, perhaps, they could have talked about Susan’s pregnancy again and Sandy could have offered help... somehow...

 

 

"Oh, Daddy, come on... it's just one day!" Lilly whined.

 

"Johnny is here to work, not to entertain you, young lady."

 

"We'll be back before the night," Lilly countered.

 

"Well, I certainly hope so!" Ben started... and looked into Lilly's triumphant face.

 

A day alone. He knew what those two were up to. He heard Lilly sneak into Johnny’s room each night, but for fear he might hear them the two lovers didn’t do much more than snuggle up to each other. Over the last days both had become somewhat impatient. He sighed. He understood.

 

“All right. But just today. And you’ll be back before nightfall,” he threatened.

 

Apart from a blanket to lie on and some water, they hadn’t taken anything with them. Lilly hadn’t had the patience for planning a trip. She simply wanted to get away from everybody and have Johnny to herself.

 

They rode south, towards and into the desert landscape. An eagle circled overhead, looking for a meal. It was hot. They were riding beside each other, the horses walked at a slow pace, and Johnny and Lilly were holding hands.

 

After an hour they had reached the outskirts of the desert.

 

"Let's have a race!" Lilly suddenly turned and called out to him. She pointed to some rock far off. “To there!”

 

"Are you sure the ground is up to it?" Johnny asked.

 

"Oh, Johnny, don't be such a sissy!" Lilly exclaimed.

 

"Sissy? You call me 'sissy'?" Johnny asked in mock-indignation.

 

"To the rock it is!"

 

"No, Lilly... that's too far!" Johnny called out but Lilly had already spurred on her horse.

 

"Lilly... don't!" Johnny urged his bay gelding on, although he still wasn’t convinced it was a good thing to do. But the bay had other ideas. He didn't like being left behind and tried to outrun Lilly's mare.

 

Lilly had had a head start, but it shrunk rapidly as the bay gelding gained speed.

 

Then, suddenly, Johnny’s horse stepped into a hole. The ground gave way, the leg sank into it, the horse stumbled, and both horse and rider were forcefully jerked out of their rhythm. The gelding’s leg was stuck in the hole, and he fell with a terrible cry.

 

Johnny was catapulted out of the saddle and hurled through the air. He touched down and rolled a few yards on the rocky ground. When he got up he had bruises and scratches from the rocks and the rough vegetation, but he wasn't hurt seriously. The bay, however, had broken his leg.

 

The horse tried to get up, but he couldn’t with only three legs. And the pain was too much. Shrieking and panicking he fell back time and time again. Johnny ran over to him and fell on his knees beside him.

 

From further off he could hear Lilly gallop back to them.

 

Johnny knelt by his horse friend and could see the fear in his eyes. For a horse not to be able to get up and run was tantamount to being at the mercy of its predators. Johnny understood this well, but there was no way he could help his friend.

 

He patted his head and neck, and it calmed the horse a bit.

 

Moments of their working together, practising cutting, or spending time grooming flashed through Johnny’s mind as he realized he was helpless.

 

Silently, Johnny took his pistol out of the saddle bag.

 

"You can't shoot him!" Lilly was horrified.

 

"Lilly, he has broken his leg."

 

"You can't shoot him," she repeated, hurling herself at Johnny, trying to snatch the pistol he was holding.

 

"Lilly... let me go!" he shouted back. He was scared he might inadvertently shoot her. Frantically, she tried to pry the gun away from him.

 

Again, the horse tried to get up. When the force of its movement wasn't enough and hurt its broken leg it gave a heart-wrenching cry.

 

In answer, Lilly cried out, too and let go of Johnny, kneeling down at the horse's head. She tried to pat the animal, but it was in pain and wouldn't keep still. It was beyond comforting.

 

Lilly started crying. "He's in pain. We've got to help him. You take my mare and ride back to the ranch. Fetch Daddy!" she ordered Johnny.

 

Johnny shook his head at her being so unreasonable. He checked his gun.

 

"And what is your father supposed to do?" he asked her. "Get him up on his shoulders and carry him home?"

 

She stared at him incredulously. How cruel of him. She hadn't known he could be so cruel.

 

"Get out of the way, Lilly," Johnny said. "You don't need to look. Walk over to your mare."

 

Lilly got up. The look she gave him was one of hatred.

 

"If you dare shoot him, I'll never talk to you again."

 

Johnny could see that she meant it. Well, then she would just have to cease speaking to him. He wasn't about to give in and have the poor animal keep hurting. He could shoot himself for being so stupid as to give in to Lilly's crazy idea of a race on dangerous territory such as this desert's. Her stubbornness had led to enough. She would give in to him this time – willing or not.

 

"Back off!" he bellowed at her, and Lilly jumped in fear. She had never experienced Johnny quite like this. All of a sudden she became aware of the fact that he was a man – a man who was much stronger than she was and who might use his strength against her! She stumbled away from the scene, not sure exactly where to go.

 

Behind her the shot rang out, and something in Lilly snapped. Johnny had dared kill a horse. He wasn't a horseman; he wasn't a man at all. All the nice things he had done and said... it was all lies. It was only now, after all these months, that he had shown his true face.

 

From further off Lilly saw him kneel beside the dead horse and softly stroke its face one more time. He swallowed hard several times, taking deep breaths. Then he got up slowly and walked over to her.

 

"Let's ride pillion on your mare," he said quietly. "We can't ride fast, so we better start getting on home." He looked up at the sky where the first scavenger could be seen.

 

"Won't be long before they find him," he said, "and I don't want to witness this. We better get going."

 

"If you think you can kill one of our horses and then just ride off, you are mistaken," Lilly said. She took the reins of her mare and mounted. When Johnny approached the horse to mount, too, her expression stopped him dead in his tracks.

 

"My father would never do anything like that," she said.

 

Incredulously, Johnny shook his head. Did she really believe what she said? Nobody – nobody! – could drag a horse with a broken leg through desert country and get it back to the ranch alive.

 

"Lilly, he couldn't even get up, let alone walk all those miles back," Johnny tried to reason with her.

 

"And you call yourself a horseman," Lilly said, scoffing. "You are not a horseman. You are not even a man. And you will never be half as good as my father is!"

 

Her voice more than her actual words made him step back. It was soaked in hatred. He shook his head at her, trying to clear his mind. He couldn't believe she had really said this, couldn't believe that with this one deed she would deny everything they had.

 

But her words had been her parting shot. She turned her horse and rode off without looking back.

 

It took him some time to understand that she had left him standing in the desert. When the first bird swooped down to check out the dead horse, Johnny quickly walked back and took his canteen. Then he slung it over his shoulder and started walking.

 

 

"You already back?" Ben asked when he came into the house and found Lilly at the stove cooking. "That's good. Then Johnny can help us with that crazy chestnut. It's one of his favourites, anyway."

 

However, nobody had seen Johnny, and when Ben couldn't find him he returned to ask Lilly.

 

"He's coming later," was all she said.

 

Ben frowned. "What do you mean 'later'? Where is he? He gone into town or something?"

 

Lilly didn't answer.

 

"What's up?" he asked.

 

Lilly put a plate on the table so hard it almost broke. The sound irritated her even more. "Nothing! How should I know where he is?"

 

Ben advanced on her, his eyes slits, his voice soaked in suspicion. "What happened out there?"

 

Lilly turned away from him, chopping up carrots. "His horse fell and broke its leg. He shot it."

 

Ben's mind worked quickly. Johnny had taken the bay gelding. Ben knew that the little bay and Johnny were a match made in horse-heaven. And now Lilly told him Johnny had had to shoot his friend. No wonder the boy wasn't to be found.

 

"So do you know where Johnny is now?"

 

"Probably still with the horse. I rode off."

 

"You left him there?!!" Ben bellowed. Lilly turned away from him and occupied herself with some potatoes. Briskly, Ben walked over. His hand gripped her upper arm and tore her away from her task.

 

"Tell me you didn't. You didn't leave him in the desert without food or water." Lilly shrugged her arm out of his grip.

 

Ben's voice was calm now... deadly calm. "Walking back will take him all day and probably half the night – first through the heat and then through the cold. Tell me you didn't just leave him there..." Had she really done this? Ben couldn't believe it. Lilly wasn't stupid. She knew that the desert was dangerous. It must have been one of those act-faster-than-think-moments of hers, albeit one that might cost a young man his life.

 

Ben took a deep breath to keep his calm, but for once it was impossible for him to keep the worry and the anger out of his voice. "What if something happens to him, and he gets injured and can't move? Does he even have a gun to defend himself?"

 

His words scared Lilly, but she was too stubborn to admit defeat. "He killed a horse! Are you telling me that's okay?" she shouted at Ben.

 

"For God's sake, girl, if its leg was broken, there was nothing Johnny could do!" Ben bellowed back. "Anybody would have shot the horse to put it out of its pain!"

 

"No, that's not true!" Lilly shouted. "You helped my mare. And she healed again."

 

Ben took a couple of breaths. Impossible. She couldn't base her judgement of Johnny on that experience she had had as a child.

 

"That mare should have been shot," he said slowly, accentuating each word. "I didn't because I couldn't see you cry. But the truth is, she was in pain for weeks. For weeks, Lilly! She was in so much pain, and you only went to her to feed her a carrot and to pat her. But it was the ranch hands and I who fed and brushed her every day who heard her cry and moan, and couldn't help her." A frustrated groan escaped his lips. She didn't understand!

 

But Lilly understood only too well now what she had done. Dropping the knife she ran off into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

 

Ben took his holster and gun and left to find Johnny.

 

 

Ben and the two ranch hands who had accompanied him returned the next morning – they had found the dead horse and seen Johnny's footprints in the sand, but they hadn't found Johnny himself.

 

When Ben dismounted Lilly ran over – desperate and in tears. "He's gone!" she proclaimed.

 

Ben tried to wipe the desert sand and sweat off his face, but he hadn't slept at all that night, and he was so tired he could hardly lift his arm. He just let her prattle on.

 

"He must have been in the house, but I didn't hear him," Lilly said. "He took his clothes and his bag, everything. One of the horses in the corral is gone. He took that, too."

 

Ben walked over to the ranch hands' quarters and inquired with them. None of the men had seen or heard anything.

 

Johnny Ryan had left them.

 

 

A powder, slowly dissolving in a glass of water, making the fluid look milky for a few seconds, before clearing...

 

A small female hand, swirling a spoon in the glass, stirring its contents, making sure the last bit of powder liquefies...

 

The powder tasted awfully, but Susan didn't mind. It was a known fact of life that most things in life were awful – that was how God had decreed things to be, and only after death and upon the arrival at His Golden Gates in Heaven were poor sinners allowed to shed their burdens...

 

It didn't take long for her body to start rebelling against the poison she had taken. A violent bout of vomiting hit her. It was so strong, she felt dizzy afterwards. Relieved that the children were away at Sandy's she walked to the water tank in her kitchen to pour herself a glass of water and to get rid of the bad taste in her mouth. She never reached it. A cramp seized her that was so strong she first thought it was a birth contraction. But it lasted longer than she remembered any birth contraction to last. It seemed to go on forever and ever.

 

The pain accompanying the cramp was so strong, she couldn't even find the breath to cry. Overwhelmed by it, she felt how the world shifted, moved, and then turned black...

 

When she came to, she found herself lying in a sticky fluid.

 

Blood. Oh dear God in Heaven...

 

There was blood running along her legs, she could feel it. And then she remembered. That was what she had wanted to achieve. That was why she had sent the children away, swallowed the powder. So, perhaps, God wasn't punishing her as she had thought at first when the pain had hit. It must have been what the woman had meant when she had said that it would be 'unpleasant'.

 

Slowly, she heaved herself up when another cramp hit her. She clung to a kitchen chair for balance. Yes, almost like a birthing. But the new cramp didn't ease off. If anything, it became worse and worse, and it took all her willpower to stay conscious.

 

More blood. Again, she felt dizzy, and for a moment the room blurred.

 

Her heart hammered wildly in her chest, and she began to fear that there had been something wrong with the powder. Perhaps that woman had tricked her, and sold her some poison, making her ill on purpose. Susan thought back on what she had learned in church. Perhaps this woman was one of Satan's disciples, enticing her to buy poison and die before having confessed her sins...

 

There was more blood and some dark discharge.

 

Her bladder seemed to burst. If she let go, she would soil the floor and have to scrub it. But the pain continued and she was beyond caring. Sobbing uncontrollably now she let her body take over. But her body could not rid itself of the huge amount of quinine she had taken...

 

As the minutes ticked by, she lay helpless, squirming like a worm in her agony. She tried to cry out, cry for help, but there was no one nearby. She herself had made sure of that.

 

Her mouth was dry and she craved water, but there was no chance she could crawl over to the water tank and take a sip.

 

Breathing became harder, and suddenly a sharp pain in her lung made her gasp. For a moment she stopped taking in air; the pain was just too sharp to repeat it willingly. But eventually, her body craved oxygen, and – carefully – she tried to take a breath. It hurt – just like moving hurt – just like thinking hurt.

 

Our Father which art in heaven. Hallowed by thy name. Thy Kingdom come...

 

The words, once started, kept running in her mind like a litany. But there was another thought emerging behind the litany, a thought that had been hiding all along. From a dark corner it rose and grew until it took shape and made her shiver with fear: the thought that she would die.

 

Thy will be done, as in heaven, so in earth. Give us day by day our daily bread...

 

She clung to the prayer in a vain attempt to receive some consolation from it. But it couldn’t console her any longer. Fear dominated her thoughts. And she knew that her God who she had once hoped would embrace and love her was condemning her, hurling her towards more pain.

 

The world grew darker and darker. She felt like moving through a tunnel, a long, dark tunnel. Her body didn't feel real any longer. Was she still breathing?

 

And forgive us our sins; for we also forgive every one that is indebted to us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil...

 

Moving further along the tunnel she perceived a light at its end.

 

The light came closer, and it grew brighter. But it wasn't a heavenly light. As Susan Evans spun towards the end of the tunnel, she became convinced that the light in front of her, the very light that should have led her to Heaven changed into flames licking out at her, beckoning her into hell...

 

 

"No eggs this morning?" Ben asked as he sat down for breakfast.

 

"I haven't been in the henhouse yet," Lilly answered. She was busy preparing the coffee.

 

"What about those?" Ben pointed to a bowlful of eggs.

 

"They are no good. They are from yesterday. I opened up two this morning, and somehow they have turned bad overnight."

 

"Oh?" Ben walked over and cracked one, sniffing suspiciously.

 

"They seem all right."

"Daddy. They smell terrible!" Lilly covered her nose with her hand and had to turn away. She was pale as a sheet all of a sudden.

 

Ben cracked the eggs and stirred them in the pan. "Want some, too?" he asked.

 

"No!" She shook her head violently and poured him a coffee. Then she put the coffee pot on the table without having any herself. Ben noticed that there wasn't a plate for her on the table either.

 

"You're not eating?"

 

"I'm not hungry. I'll eat later."

 

"Lilly. That's the third day you're not having breakfast. Something wrong with you, girl?"

 

She didn't answer his question. Ben sat down and started eating. He was watching his daughter. Her face was set, almost hard.

 

"It's Johnny, isn't it?" he probed. "You thinking of him? Dreaming of him, Little Flower?"

 

Lilly's eyes filled with tears and she jumped up from the table and ran upstairs. She couldn't face her father right now, she simply couldn't.

 

Ben nodded to himself as he finished his breakfast. Love wasn't easy. Unbidden two female forms rose before his mind’s eye. One lush, soft, brown-haired, her face round, her mouth smiling... the other slender, ethereal, her red curls all messed up, her thin face full of freckles from the sun. They both vied for his attention, preying on his memory.

 

No. Love wasn't easy.

 

 

It was a modest funeral, so very different from his mother’s. A plain coffin, a short procession, a small congregation. Mark Evans walked behind Susan’s coffin wondering why the ‘Christian women’ were whispering among themselves.

 

The Reverend’s sermon was short. Devoted wife and mother, Susan Evans hadn’t left a lasting mark on the community she had been part of. The Reverend had tried to talk to Mark, but the young man seemed consumed, not with sorrow but...  with anger. A latent anger that simmered just under the surface.

 

Why he should feel angry towards his wife and the situation was beyond the Reverend, but he was experienced enough to know that, no matter what the gossip said, nobody ever caught the full scale of people’s interactions. Who knew what had transpired between the couple before this tragic death?

 

 

Lucy was watching in despair as Jason stuffed his belongings in a sack and took his coat. He was leaving!

 

“Where are you going, Jason?” she asked.

 

“Back to the Horseshoe Ranch, lassie. No use staying here with you having them men in your bed.”

 

Her eyes brimmed with tears at his words. What else was she to do? They didn’t have any money left. Shamed by his words she turned, and so she didn’t catch the look he sent her, full of pain, full of regret, a man’s look of defeat.

 

He had asked her to marry him, and – being head over heels in love - they had. And although he had had Warner’s 100 dollars to tide them over, he hadn’t been able to find work and feed his girl. Instead, it was his girl that fed them both - What kind of man did that make him?

 

He cast a last look at Lucy standing at the window, her hand grasping the frame. She wanted him to stay. He knew this. But it was no use. First he had to get grounded again, get a decent job, make some money. Then he would find a way for them to be together.

 

Without a further word he left, and - as had happened often in her life – Lucy was left behind. She recognised her predicament but there was nothing she could do. It simply was a no-win-situation.

 

 

“As a woman you can’t win.”

 

“Now, whatever gave you that idea?”

 

“It’s true! Men are doing what they want, they go wherever they want. But let a woman do the same and she is cast out. A woman even traveling alone anywhere already raises eyebrows and gets only trouble!”

 

Or gets laid, Ben thought, but didn’t say it out loud. It wasn’t the moment to be cynical. He actually agreed with Lilly. But, as always, she was too rash, too extreme, saw the world only in black and white, and he wasn’t prepared to let her get away with any nonsense.

 

"Nobody respects a woman. Men think that they are the only ones who are important!" her rant went on.

 

"That’s rubbish, Lilly, and you know it. Women are more important than men, and they will always be. Men are expendable. Women are not."

 

"Why?"

 

"Because of the next generation. A woman has to raise her little ones. A man can die right after or run off. Unless a man sticks around and protects his woman and his children he is useless."

 

"You mean like Johnny!" Lilly suddenly exclaimed and jumped out of her chair. "He isn't here, so he might just as well be dead! Is that it?"

 

Ben looked up at her agitated face. He didn't answer. Lilly had always been passionate, but these last days her mood swings had gotten worse and worse. Suddenly she started sobbing. Ben wanted to outwait her tears but she only got worse.

 

"It's my fault he left!" Lilly sobbed.

 

Ben perked up. So this was what had been nagging at her. "What happened, Little Flower?" he asked her.

 

It took several minutes of desperate sobbing, a few hiccups, and a lot of courage for Lilly to answer. "We quarrelled. And then... and then I said to him he'd never be as good as you are," she finally admitted.

 

Ben didn't trust his ears. "You said what to him?" he bellowed, shaking her by her shoulders.

 

Lilly started sobbing again. Her words had filled in the missing jigsaw piece for Ben. Knowing Johnny, Ben doubted that he would ever come back. Not after such an insult. No wonder Lilly was falling apart.

 

"Oh baby... how could you?"

 

Her cries became desperate. For once her father didn't understand her, didn't approve of her behavior. It drove home the nagging feeling she had had all along, a feeling she wasn't familiar with: guilt.

 

She clung to her father.

 

"There's more." She said it to his chest.

 

"What?" Ben whispered into her hair.

 

"We did... lie with each other, even though I promised you I'd not do it, Daddy!"

 

"I knew, Lilly," Ben comforted her.

 

"How?" She didn't trust her ears. How could he know? "Has Johnny...?"

 

Ben gave her a stern look. "Do you think him capable of doing that?" Ben asked her.

 

"No." She shook her head. "But how...?"

 

"It's you, sweetie. You gave it away. Your smile, your movements, the self-assurance you have gained at being a woman."

 

"You're not angry at me?" It was all she cared about at the moment.

 

Ben shook his head. "No, I'm not angry at you. I'm just sad for you that Johnny is gone."

 

Renewed desperation. Lilly's hands clutched his clothes, struggling to find the words to say what she needed to say.

 

Patiently, Ben waited her out.

 

"Daddy... I am with child!"

 

A mix of emotions shot through Ben at the thought: a child. He remembered Rachel, and how it had thrilled him when he had learned of her pregnancy - a result, he remembered, of attentions he had lavished upon her, and which she hadn't wanted. If Johnny had done the same...

 

He tensed, and Lilly held her breath.

 

But then he remembered Lilly and Johnny, and the way they had been together. Observing them he had known that the two had found a love that he himself had never had. He had never even come close to what Lilly and Johnny had discovered. Not even with Mattie...

 

A child. Lilly's child. A little girl just like her, perhaps, giggling when you tickled her, learning to walk in this very room... His arms came around his daughter, and he hugged her hard. Then he bent down and kissed her hair.

 

"Don't cry, Lilly. That's no reason for crying." He released her and held her at arm's length, and when she refused to look him in the eye, he raised her cheek with his palm.

 

The love in his eyes was overwhelming Lilly. Guilt hit her hard.

 

"But I promised you that we wouldn't... you know..."

 

A smile played around his lips. "But you did it anyway."

 

Tears filled her eyes. His fingers stroked her cheek.

 

"Why, Little Flower?" He smiled at her. "Tell me why." He wanted her to confess her love for Johnny, to drive away the guilt that was crushing her.

 

"I didn't want to be like Sarah," Lilly said.

 

Ben frowned, not really understanding the connection. Sarah was her friend from school, three years older than Lilly. They had been playmates, and although they were completely different in character, over the years they had kept their friendship alive.

 

"When Sarah got married last year, she told me in confidence that she hadn't even kissed Michael yet. He gave her a kiss on her cheek to confirm their engagement, but that was all." Lilly brushed her tears away with both hands, her voice normal again. "But they never had... you know... They had never touched each other before. They hadn't even seen each other properly. Not like I and Johnny have..."

 

For a moment she relived a memory, and Ben could see that it wasn't a nice one. What the hell was she thinking about? Was it about something Johnny had done?

 

"When they went off to their hotel room to spend the night there after the wedding, everybody sniggered and made rude jokes... about how Sarah would finally learn to be a real woman, and how Michael should pull himself together and show her who is master... it was all so... "

 

She didn't finish the sentence, but Ben could hear and feel how disgusted she was by the idea of people making fun of the lovers' first intimate moments. Their callousness must have cut her deeply.

 

"And so you decided you wanted to... know... Johnny before you married him," Ben completed her sentence. It made sense. Lilly always did things her own way.

 

"I didn't want them to smile at me like that! I wanted to do it when I wanted, not when they expected me to."

 

Her voice was passionate, almost aggressive. Ben couldn't stay serious any longer. He threw his head back and laughed aloud.

 

Amidst her raging emotions, between tears and anger, Lilly burst into laughter with him.

 

"Yeah," Ben finally said when they both had had their fill, "you never could accept people and their rules."

 

"I am like you, Daddy."

 

 

“Are you sure?” Disbelief was in Mark Evans’ voice.

 

“Mr. Evans, I’ve been a midwife for more than 30 years,” Mrs. Higgins said, “and your wife’s miscarriage wasn’t a natural one.”

 

“Does the doctor know this, too?” he asked incredulously. The midwife gave a cynical laughter. The doctor wasn’t a Christian.

 

“Of course, he knows. But he won’t say. He sides with the sinners. I’ve seen whores who became ill after taking this powder. And he would even tend to them and help them evade God’s wrath.”

 

“But how would Susan...”

 

“There’s a woman who sells this stuff, right behind the brothel. She’s known.”

 

For Mark Evans it became clear why his wife Susan had been so silent lately, so secretive. She had planned to murder his child! She was no better than the whores who secretly got rid of the children they conceived. But above all she had deceived him, lied to him, her husband!

 

Truth. Nobody told the truth any more. They were all doomed, and he didn’t really care whether or not they were punished for all eternity. But he wouldn’t let his own soul burn in Hell!

 

 

“Good morning, Mrs. Miller.”

 

“Lilly! How nice to see you, girl. What are you doing in town?”

 

“I was at the seamstress'. I need some new clothes.”

 

“Still haven’t learned how to mend your clothes properly, have you?” Mrs. Miller asked with a smile.

 

Lilly shook her head. “No. It’s not that. My clothes are getting too tight. I was ordering clothes for my pregnancy.”

 

“Pregnancy?” Mrs. Miller was truly shocked.

 

Like everybody in town, she knew that there had been no engagement, and definitely not a marriage. So where did that child come from?

 

“But Lilly... how did that happen?”

 

An amused smile played around Lilly’s lips at the question – a smile that looked just like her father’s.

 

“Are you telling me you don’t know how to make babies?” she asked.

 

Mrs. Miller blushed. But then she got angry. Who did the girl think she was?

 

“Now, don’t take that tone with me, young lady,” she lectured like a mother. “You are only seventeen and want to tell me something? If I were your mother, you’d have to answer a few questions about it all!”

 

Lilly’s face fell at that. Mrs. Miller had taught her how to bake her favourite cookies. She had been a surrogate mother when Lilly had been a small child. She had always been supportive and loving. Now her look spoke of blame. What did she accuse her of? And furthermore, how did she dare speak to her like that?

 

“But you are not my mother, and so I don’t have to answer,” she said, her voice cold as ice, belying the betrayal she felt. She would have turned and left had she not promised her father to wait for him inside the grocery store.

 

But she was lucky. New customers came, and Mrs. Miller was distracted from her moral musings.

 

“Good morning, ladies.”

 

“Mr. Warner.” Nodding and smiles all around as Ben entered the store. He approached Lilly and his arm came around her shoulders lovingly. Father and daughter exchanged a look and a smile. The onlooking women smiled benevolently.

 

Gently, Ben squeezed his daughter’s shoulder.

 

“Are you ready, Lilly?”

 

“Yes, Daddy,” Lilly nodded, turned and walked out without saying good-bye.

 

Mrs. Miller wanted to stop her, but one of the ladies had just asked her a question, and she couldn’t quite drop the facade of perfect shop keeper in order to run after a girl she had once played mother to. When her customers were gone and Mrs. Miller finally stepped outside Ben and Lilly had already left.

 

Her next customer was Mrs. Benson. Mrs. Miller still felt guilty, and she was far too excited about Lilly’s news to mince her words or think twice about their possible effect on one of the pillars of ‘Christian women’. And so, Mrs. Benson left the grocery store with a juicy bit of news to be repeated – and talked about – in her illustrious circle of women friends.

 

 

As Ben and Lilly left town, there was a young man watching them, his eyes burning with hatred. The man decided that he had had enough!

Ben Warner, too, was lying to the world – just like his wife had. His whole existence was a lie, he wasn’t even named ‘Warner’. The people of Indian Springs should know that they harboured an outlaw in their midst. 

 

“’Let the lying lips be put to silence’,” he quoted.

 

Mark Evans took a deep breath: he would make sure that the lying and cheating would soon be over.  

 

"I don't understand, Mr. Evans. 'Ben Wade'? That doesn't sound likely now, does it?"

 

"But I'm telling you. Ben Warner is not his name. His real name is ‘Wade’." Mark Evans was adamant.

 

"And what do you want me to do?" the sheriff asked.

 

"He is an outlaw. A robber. And he's killed people. It is his fault that my father died."

 

The sheriff wasn't convinced. After all, he had never met the late Dan Evans.

 

"That's all very well. But do you have any proof? You can't just come and accuse a man because you don't like him." It was well-known that Mark Evans harbored a hatred against Ben Warner, although why was beyond the sheriff's grasp. To his knowledge Ben Warner was good friends with the rest of the Evans family. A few years ago, during the great drought, he had even given them money to tide them over. As a matter of fact the older brother, William Evans, was on friendly terms with Ben Warner.

 

"Ask him," Mark Evans said, his chin raised in defiance. "It's your duty as sheriff of this town."

 

"So, what do you think, doctor?"

 

Doc Martens’ back was towards the sheriff. He was mixing a medicine, carefully avoiding the sheriff’s look. He kept measuring and adjusting the tiny amount of morphine that he was mixing into the freshly-ground herbs and that he meant to hand to the midwife. Perhaps if she received it from the midwife instead of him Mrs. Summers would take the medicine regularly, and her pain for which there was no cure, could be alleviated.

 

“Doc... I’m talking to you!” Sheriff Davis didn’t like being ignored.

 

Doc Martens only shrugged his shoulders. "Mark Evans just lost his wife, Sheriff. He is bound to be distraught. Just because the names 'Wade' and 'Warner' resemble each other doesn't mean Ben Warner is the outlaw Ben Wade."

 

The doctor turned, bowl in hand, and poured its contents into a little cone of paper which he labelled carefully.

 

"Yeah... I think you're right, Doc," Sheriff Davis said. "But what if Evans is right, and Warner is a killer?"

 

Doc Martens looked at Sheriff Davis. "If you really think so, Sheriff, then you have to arrest him. – But remember this, men have been hanged just because they resembled somebody."

 

"Yeah, you're right, Doc. Evans just needs to get a grip on himself."

 

 

“And what happened then?” Lilly asked, mesmerized by her father’s tale of one of her early mischiefs as a toddler.

 

“I tried to retrieve you,” Ben said, “but you were gone.”

 

“Gone?”

 

He nodded. “Was damn scary. I knew you always ran off to the river, but when I arrived at the water you weren’t in sight.” For a moment Ben closed his eyes in pain, reliving how he had stood at the riverbank without a sight of his little girl, looking further and further down the current, panic rising in him... And then...

 

He chuckled at the memory, and Lilly touched his arm.

 

“What happened?” she reminded him of her presence.

 

Ben buried his face in his hands and shook his head chuckling. It was an echo of the previous panic and the relief of a comic ending. He appeared from behind his palms again and Lilly looked expectantly, waiting for him to finish his story.

 

“You suddenly appeared behind me and shoved me towards the water,” Ben said, chuckling again, shaking his head in disbelief. “You came at me like a cannon ball. I nearly fell into the river.”

 

Lilly laughed out loud. Her father had never told her this story before.

 

“Miss Warner, you have a visitor,” one of the ranch hands announced at this moment, entering the house. When Ben and Lilly stepped outside they could see that it was Mrs. Miller.

 

Ben saw Lilly’s face grow angry. His arm came around her shoulder and he squeezed her. “Don’t, sweetie,” he said softly to her, and she took a deep breath.

 

Mrs. Miller had always been her friend – until their conversation a few hours ago in the grocery store. What did she want now?

 

“I wanted to apologize, Lilly,” Mrs. Miller said when she and Lilly sat by themselves in the kitchen.

 

”I’ll be with you when the child is born, Lilly, don’t you worry.”

 

Lilly breathed a soundless sigh of relief. Apart from Sarah, Mrs. Miller was the only female friend she had. It was good to know she could rely upon her. Lilly hadn’t thought too much about the actual birth yet, but she knew it was inevitable...

 

“And I will also help you with the baby, Lilly, once it’s born. Show you how to do it all right.”

  

“Good morning, Sheriff.”

 

Sheriff Davis looked up and saw Mark Evans.

 

“I’ve come to say hello to your prisoner,” Mark added.

 

“My prisoner?”

 

“Ben Wade.” With this Mark walked into the small room adjacent to the sheriff’s office that held two cells. They were both empty.

 

“Where is he?” Mark asked. “Did you have to shoot him?”

 

“Now, now, Mr. Evans,” the sheriff interrupted him. Oh, how he wished his Deputy Sanders was here! Sanders had known Mark Evans since they had been boys, and he might have placated him. “I have no evidence that Mr. Warner is a criminal, and so I am not going to arrest him.”

 

“You have my word!” Mark suddenly screamed at him. “Isn’t that good enough?”

 

No. Apparently, it wasn’t. Ignoring Sheriff Davis, Mark Evans ran out of the building.

 

What to do? How to make sure the people of Indian Springs understood that there was a killer in their midst? How to make sure that killer was brought to justice?

 

For a moment Mark felt desperation rise in his heart: nobody understood how important it was that the town be cleared of evil, of lies and deceit. – He had to bring the law here!

 

"This is the text."

 

Mark pushed a piece of paper over the counter of the telegraph office. The office clerk Simpson read: 'Ben Wade sighted in Indian Springs. Request your presence. Please bring the law with you. Mark Evans'

 

"And to whom do you want to send this, Mr. Evans?" he asked.

 

"To Mr. Grayson Butterfield, President of the 'Southern Pacific Railroad', Chicago."

  

“Lilly, I’ve been thinking...”

 

“What?” Lilly put their plates on the table and fetched the cutlery from the drawer.

 

“You’re getting heavier, and the work you do is getting harder for you...”

 

She looked at him, cutlery in hand.

 

“Jason’s been coming back from town. He’s one of our best hands, been with us since before you were born.”

 

“So?”

 

“What would you say if we got his girl here so they can be together? You could use some help, couldn’t you?”

 

“His girl?”

 

“Yes. Lucy, his wife. He goes down into town once or twice a week to see her, but that’s hardly enough for a married man.”

 

“Lucy Who? I don’t know any Lucy,” Lilly asked.

 

Had she really never heard the name before? Ben wondered. No, perhaps not. Lilly rarely went into town, and she wasn’t acquainted with the saloon girls.

 

“Lucy from the saloon,” he answered.

 

“A saloon girl?” Lilly asked. She was disgusted.

 

Ben looked into his daughter’s face and beheld a young woman he had never seen before. Whom had she picked that up from? – Certainly not him. Miss Hargrove, perhaps. But then, Lilly had rarely paid attention to Miss Hargrove’ moral code or followed her advice.

 

“Daddy, I’m not having a saloon girl here,” Lilly said. Her tone of voice said it all: the matter was closed for her.

 

It was no use bringing somebody she would reject. After all, they would have to live together. But it irked Ben that her attitude seemed to be so inappropriately pious.

 

“Lilly, I’ve been going down into town seeing the girls there since you were little. What’s the problem?”

 

“That’s all right for you, Daddy,” she said. “You are a man. But I will not have anybody here who...” She broke off, facing her father with a hard stare, sure that she need not say any more.

 

“Who... what?” Ben asked. “What do you think those girls do to make them so different from you?”

 

“Me?! You’re not comparing me to those girls, Daddy?” she spat at him. “I may be pregnant without a wedding ring, but I am certainly better than they are!”

 

With this she threw her cutlery on the table and ran off to her bedroom.

Her reasoning surprised Ben. It was like a slap in his face. And it was highly unreasonable. What about Mattie? Lilly had loved Mattie, and she, too, had been a whore in that same saloon.

 

But as Ben sat pondering Lilly’s attitude he realized that whatever her logic was in this, he could certainly not offer Jason to bring Lucy into this house.

 

 

“The way I see it, this child is a bastard child, Mrs. Miller,” Mrs. Higgins the midwife said.

 

Mrs. Miller sighed. Mrs. Higgins was a devoted Christian. And she had obviously never been in love, or she would have understood how easy it was to give in to the need of consuming love. Years ago, when her Michael had courted her, there had been moments, too, when she had almost given in to him before being wed...

 

“Lilly is a good girl,” Mrs. Miller defended her. “She loved that young man.”

 

“Should have waited for him to wed her good and proper, then,” Mrs. Higgins retorted. “If I were her mother, she would never have gotten in that situation. She would have been too busy working. And she would have spent more time on her knees praying than on her back fornicating.”

 

“Mrs. Higgins!”

 

“What? I am not to say the truth?”

 

Mrs. Miller decided to hold her tongue. Apart from the doctor, the midwife was the only one who could deliver children and who knew what to do in an emergency. When Lilly’s time came she would have to rely on Mrs. Higgins’ goodwill and help.

 

“I’m sure she has learned her lesson,” Mrs. Miller said to placate Mrs. Higgins. “And Lilly is only seventeen. She’s still a girl. And she is scared.”

 

“Well, they all learn that way that their carnal pleasure must be paid for. Once she is in pain she’ll be doing more than being scared. She’ll be begging me for my help.”  

 

 

“Aaarggh!” Another plate broken. “I hate this!” Lilly threw the broken pieces on the floor where they shattered even more. Now she would have to sweep the floor. Life was just awful! Lilly burst into tears.

 

“Lilly...” Ben put away his book, came over and took her in his arms.

 

“What’s the matter, baby?” Vigorously, Lilly shook her head at his chest and snuggled deeper into his arms, crying.

 

“Why don’t you lie down, Lilly?” Ben suggested. “No point in exhausting yourself. Won’t matter if you wash them dishes now or later.” She let herself be led up into her bedroom and sank down on her bed, still snivelling. By the time Ben had taken off her shoes she was asleep.

 

Tenderly, Ben combed her curls out of her face and looked at his daughter. Her hair wasn’t so soft any longer. It seemed to thin out, and it had lost its shine. Her skin, too, had changed. It was puffy and uneven. Sometimes Lilly’s movements were cautious and uncoordinated – almost as an old woman’s. She wasn’t that far along in her pregnancy, one could hardly notice the little bulge. But all the changes she went through were so hard on her. Ben couldn’t remember Lilly’s mother Rachel suffering so much during her pregnancy. But then, Rachel had never let him come really close, had never confided in him – and certainly not been willing to share something as intimate as that! How could he know whether or not she had suffered?

 

Did mares change like this, too? Ben wondered. He had never noticed. Well... he hadn’t been looking for changes in his mares. For him it was important that the next generation was born. He had never bothered to think about the physical hardships a woman – or a mare – went through during pregnancy.

 

Looking at Lilly again, a wave of love washed over him. Had he ever loved anyone that much before? In his mind’s eye the years drifted by as she changed from baby to toddler, then to the spry schoolgirl who drove her teacher to distraction, and finally on to the young woman Johnny had fallen in love with. Johnny. Gone and unable to be with her. Was he even aware of what he was missing out on?

 

Lilly sighed in her sleep, and again Ben combed her hair and kissed her forehead. Then he got up and did the dishes.

 

In the morning, two men arrived in Indian Springs. Their arrival was greeted by a young man who had been waiting for them. Together, the three men headed straight for the sheriff’s office.

 

 

"Anyway... Johnny isn't facing up to his responsibilities, or he never would have left after our quarrel!"

 

"You are making too much of me, Lilly. I am not a hero!"

 

Lilly placed her hands on her hips. "Are you telling me I don't know you, Daddy?"

 

As if on cue the door opened and Sheriff Davis and his deputy entered. Ben fixed them with a stare. He could see that Sheriff Davis didn't feel too comfortable in his own skin right now. Ben wondered why they had come. The sheriff took his hat off and clutched it in his hands.

 

"Mr. Warner."

 

Ben nodded. "Sheriff."

"Am... I'd like you to come with me, sir." His deputy coughed at the soft words.

 

Ben's quick gaze took it all in, the cautious words, the uncertain gestures, the embarrassment. He didn't move a muscle. Something was going on.

 

The sheriff cleared his throat and made another effort. "I need you to come to town." Behind the sheriff the deputy's hands were moving to his gun... but when he saw Ben’s gaze steady on him he moved his hand further back to his kidney and scratched his back. But Ben wasn't fooled; this was an arrest.

 

Lilly had been watching the exchange and interpreted it. "I am coming with you, Daddy."

 

"Miss Warner... it might be better if you didn't," the sheriff said.

 

Both Ben and Lilly stared at him – stares that made him fidget. Without taking her eyes from the sheriff's face Lilly placed her hand on her father's arm and spoke.  "I am coming with you."

 

When they rode into town with the sheriff and his deputy, half the townspeople were assembled. Among the crowd Ben spotted a man he had recently seen in Chicago. The man had his eyes fixed upon Ben and watched him approach until Ben and Lilly stopped their horses a few yards in front of him. Ben was staring into the eyes of Grayson Butterfield.

 

Ben sent a quick glance to the man standing beside Butterfield - a tin star pinned to his chest revealed that this man must be a marshal.

 

"Are you 'Ben Warner'?" the marshal addressed him.

 

Hearing the man's words and seeing Grayson Butterfield beside him Ben knew it was all over. Somehow Butterfield must have learned that Ben Wade ran a ranch in Nevada. Had Tommy told him? Inadvertently? By accident? But even if he had, why would Butterfield come all this way to search him out? Was it still about the robbery and the money he had taken... a lifetime ago?

 

For twenty years he had attempted to hide his past, had managed to leave it all behind. Twenty years of building up a ranch, of raising a family... all gone with that one question.

 

Was there any point in insisting that he was the rancher Ben Warner when Butterfield knew better and could expose him? Why delay the truth? - For one reason, and one reason only: Lilly!

 

The marshal was still waiting for a reply.

 

"Yes," Ben answered.

 

"What's this all about?" Lilly asked, her eyes darting between her father and the man addressing him.

 

"Mr. Warner," the marshal continued, "I have information that you are the criminal 'Ben Wade', outlaw and robber."

 

A sudden silence descended on the scene. Nothing – not even the 'swish-swish' of a woman's dress or of feet moving on the dusty ground – could be heard.

 

Ben's eyes darted over the people present and came to rest on Mark Evans. The sneer on the young man's face gave him away. So it had been him who had summoned Butterfield. But why after all these years?

 

"Who says so?" Lilly's angry voice cut through the silence.

 

"I do." Butterfield's voice rang out – but Ben knew better. The simple fact that Mark Evans was present and enjoying the scene spoke eloquently. An informer always wanted to be in on the kill.

 

Butterfield spoke up explaining to the audience, "Twenty years ago Ben Wade robbed the Southern Pacific railroad, whose President I am. He committed 22 robberies all over Arizona. When we captured him we put him on a train that was to take him to the prison in Yuma and to his hanging. But he never arrived there."

 

Ben's lips twitched in amusement. He just couldn't help it. He remembered whistling, and Ribbon following the train about a mile or two. By then he had managed to knock out the guard, get his gun and holster back and jump off without anybody even knowing he had left... Had that really taken place twenty years ago? It seemed like yesterday.

 

Ben cast another look over the people present, the hotel owner, the doctor, Miss Hargrove and the 'Club of Christian women'... Mark Evans had made sure that the most respected people in town were all present. Further off he saw Mr. and Mrs. Miller standing beside each other. They were looking at him as if they were waiting for him to speak up in defence of himself. But Ben knew that any defence was pointless. Butterfield and Mark Evans were present. His secret was out.

 

William and Sandy Evans moved through the throng of people. There was a look of incredulity on William's face – as if he couldn't believe what his brother had done. Ben briefly wondered how he himself could have been so trusting. With the Evans family living in Indian Springs, his secret had always been at risk. Both Alice and William Evans had assured him that he was safe. But obviously, it had only been a matter of time...

 

But why now? Now of all times, when Lilly needed him to be with her?

 

For a split-second Ben panicked. Lilly! What was she to do when he was hanged? – Oh, he didn't doubt that this would be the outcome of this day. For most of his life he had lived with the knowledge that one day there would come a moment when nothing would help him evade the inevitable. So today that day had finally arrived. Ben had already lived far longer than he had ever hoped. Was there any point in delaying what was about to happen?

 

"He is right. I am Ben Wade," he said. He didn't dare turn and look at Lilly, who sat beside him and who was staring at him. Instead he fixed his eyes on the only people in this group who were his friends, the Millers.

 

A veil dropped over Mrs. Miller's eyes at his confirmation, and her face changed. The friendly banter, the harmless flirting, her generous help when Lilly was growing up... they all seemed forgotten. It was the same with her husband. Ben was watching their faces change. He could see how any feeling of friendship they might have had crumbled right in front of him. If not even the Millers were prepared to accept his past – then he stood no chance. No chance at all.

 

"Daddy..."

 

Lilly had placed her hand on his, and he became aware of how hard he was clutching Fetlock's reins.

 

He looked at his daughter – the most precious thing he had in this world. She was strong. But she was only seventeen years old! And she carried a child. Both would need protection. Who could she go to if he was no longer there to protect her?

 

That was the worst pain of all. Not being able to keep her safe!

 

"Well..." the marshal spoke up again. "If you confess that you are Ben Wade then there is nothing more to say, is there?"

 

"Just one question," Ben asked the marshal. "Who informed you?"

 

"Mr. Butterfield received a telegram from Mr. Evans, who has recently moved into your town," the marshal said.

 

Everybody started murmuring.

 

"He's been here since he was a kid of twelve," Sheriff Davis said.

 

The marshal was confused. "Why didn't you say something before?" he asked Mark Evans.

 

"My mother didn't want it known." Mark Evans paused. "She was sweet on Ben Warner."

 

The townspeople started murmuring. The Christian women were appalled. They hadn't realised the pious Alice Evans might have entertained 'unchaste thoughts' – or perhaps even actions? – where the rancher Ben Warner was concerned.

 

Ben raised his chin at the remark. Mark was stretching the truth enormously here.

 

"That's not true!" William's voice rang out. The look he shot at his brother was one of contempt.

 

"We have known Ben Wade and Mr. Butterfield..." - he shot a look at the Railroad President - "...ever since we met him twenty years ago in Bisbee. We recognized Mr. Wade when we came to Indian Springs and settled here. But ever since then he helped us with the ranch, tided us over when things were tough... lent us money..."

 

"He lent YOU the money, not US! YOU are the one who wants to protect him. He is a killer!" Mark shouted. "It's HIS fault that Pa is dead!"

 

The people were slightly taken aback by his rage. Mark Evans, one of the dignified, religious pillars of the community, had totally lost control of himself. A hysterical man was deeply suspicious.

 

Ben had been watching Mark's outburst like all the others and was seeing the wounded eyes of a young man who had never outgrown what had happened to him as a boy, the loss of his adored father.

 

"So, you knew, too, did you?" the marshal asked William Evans, who nodded.

 

"Yes, I knew."

 

"And you didn't tell because he lent you money, and you were beholden to him," the marshal continued. "Did he also threaten you?"

 

William shook his head. "No." He turned to his wife Sandy, who had grasped his hand, both to calm and to support him. He smiled at her and squeezed her hand, then turned to the marshal again.

 

"At first, Mother wanted to tell the sheriff when she found out. But we were new here in Indian Springs. We weren't sure if people would listen to us. And then later... when we had met Ben Wade and got to know him..."

 

A campfire at night. A young boy of fourteen and a world-weary outlaw who was charming beyond belief, trying to get the young boy on his side because his life depended on it.

 

"You ever been to Dodge City?"

 

"No."

 

"Meanest, most beautiful dirty city there ever was. Saloon was just overflowing with cattle drivers, road agents, prospectors, gunslingers, gamblers, and women. – Women who'll do things to you you'll never forget. I got there on my own not much older than you..."

 

 

That night at the fire, his face wistful as he remembered his own youth, Ben Wade had been the most exciting man a young boy could imagine.

 

And then, later, when he had stood over his dying father and aimed the pistol at Ben Wade... a boy of fourteen aiming a gun at the killer Ben Wade of all people... the outlaw had been the most despicable man he had yet seen.

 

 

William had never really understood why Ben Wade had climbed on that train and with his gesture secured them the money that Butterfield had promised. But faced with exposure, Ben's look at Lilly had made it all clear for William: the world-weariness Ben Wade had displayed all those years ago hadn't been a mask. He really had been tired of his old life.

 

Although William had never learned what it had taken Ben to arrive at where he stood now, he understood the huge changes this man had to undertake in order to have a safe place to live and to raise a family. To have what other people took for granted.

 

And now it was about to be taken from him...

 

"We got to know Ben Warner the rancher... not Ben 'Wade' the killer," William continued. "We talked it over in the family. And we agreed that Ben Wade was gone, and Ben Warner was a good neighbour. There was no need to change that."

 

William turned to look at Ben but Ben's stare gave nothing away.

 

"But other than you – everybody was fooled by him," the marshal concluded. "He deceived the whole town."

 

"No."

 

Everybody turned when the doctor spoke up.

 

"I knew, too. I knew who he was."

 

Ben frowned. That was a lie. The doctor couldn't have known. Apart from John Smith, his dead foreman who had definitely kept silent, the only person who had ever known his true identity had been Rachel...

 

Rachel.

 

The doctor and Ben exchanged a look and suddenly Ben understood.

 

The doctor had been with Rachel the moment she had passed away. Ben himself had led a distressed Tommy out of his dying mother's room while the doctor had tended to Rachel. A few minutes later he had come down with the news that she was dead...

 

Ben heaved a soundless sigh.

 

So, in her last waking moments Rachel had avenged herself on him. She had told the one secret that Ben needed to hide, his true name.

 

"And why didn't you tell the sheriff?" the marshal asked the doctor.

 

"Why should I? Ben Warner has been living among us for twenty years. In all this time he has never done anything unlawful. Unlike others I have known – and know," the doctor added without addressing anybody in particular. "If a man wants to change his life, how long do you think he should prove himself?"

 

At this, the people started murmuring among themselves.

 

Neither the marshal nor Butterfield answered his question. The doctor turned to the townspeople. "Well? What do you think? When a man has made a mistake, how long does it take for him to make it right?"

 

The murmuring got louder.

 

“Who are you to say he is a righteous man, doctor? ’For we shall all stand before the judgment seat of Christ’,” the voice of one of the assorted 'Christian women' rang out. “He might have killed people and hidden their bodies. He can blaspheme and nobody will make him stop. – And then his daughter. We don't even know how that child in her came about. We have never even seen a decent young man around her. And she is living in that house with only her father..."

 

The accusation made people gasp. Lilly gave a helpless little sound. When Ben turned to her he saw the horror on her face, horror that changed to pain and gave way to tears. His hand reached over and grasped hers, and he squeezed it hard.

 

"Stay calm, Lilly," he whispered, his whisper almost a growl as his gaze swept over the 'Christian women' again.

 

"No...."

 

Everybody turned when suddenly Miss Hargrove spoke up. Lilly's hand was still in Ben's, and he could see and feel her shake at the voice of her former teacher. He could almost read her thoughts. Whatever Miss Hargrove might have to say about her or her father, it couldn't be good.

 

Then Ben saw a hard look of acceptance settle on Lilly's face. She looked at him and squeezed back. And, again, he understood her thoughts. Let her do her worst. Whatever Miss Hargrove or anybody else would accuse her of... she and her father were both in the same boat together, and nothing – nothing! – would tear them apart!

 

The townspeople had turned silent, waiting to hear what Miss Hargrove might have to say.

 

"I have been Lilly's teacher for ten years," she said. "She is a willful girl, and a very headstrong one, but she is not immoral by any measure. I cannot and will not believe that she would ever do something that is wrong."

 

Ben's eyes had turned soft at Miss Hargrove's speech. Lilly's grip had lessened and her hand was resting limply in her father's now. She had tears in her eyes. Miss Hargrove was smiling at her.

 

"Lilly is a good girl," she said, "and Ben Warner has never been anything less than a gentleman with me."

 

She turned and fixed her Christian women friends with a hard stare. It was only now that she became fully aware of the company she had submitted herself to - out of sheer loneliness, out of the need for companionship, the need for acceptance. Was it really necessary that she should gossip about other people's behaviour as those women regularly did? Weren't her books the better companions?

 

"She that is without sin among you, let her first cast a stone on her," she quoted solemnly, her stare still fixed on the women.

 

Ben smiled at Miss Hargrove's deliberate misquote addressing the women directly. In the Bible only men carried out judgment against women. The squirming of the addressed women was worth seeing, though.

 

The Reverend wound his way through his flock and came to stand beside the doctor right in the middle of the throng. Ben frowned. So his final verdict was to be delivered in Bible words. How fitting!

 

"I have been deeply suspicious of Ben Warner," the Reverend began his sermon. The Christian women, abandoned by their leading lady, relaxed and nodded in understanding. Finally someone who spoke up to defend morality.

 

"His shunning our church for Sunday prayers..."

 

Ben smiled his soft smile. No. Nothing would make him join a herd of sheep pretending to be one of them.

 

"...his stubbornness over matters of faith..."

 

- the Reverend looked at Ben -

 

"... and also his more than friendly way with... women of ill repute..."

 

Being addressed thus by the Reverend, the saloon girls who stood aside in a cluster started murmuring. The Christian women nodded vigorously at the Reverend’s words, whispering among themselves, sure of the blow that would soon be dealt by the speaker.

 

"... all this served to make me judge Ben Warner harsher than was necessary."

 

Ben's eyes became slits. What was the man up to with his sermon?

 

"The gentle Miss Hargrove is right when she reminds us that only ‘he that is without sin should be casting a stone’. - There is also Matthew 7 which reminds us ‘For with what judgement ye judge, ye shall be judged’,” the Reverend continued.

 

Ben frowned. He wasn't sure what the Reverend was getting at, but it sure didn't sound as if he wanted to throw him, Ben, to the wolves.

 

Folding his hands as in prayer and placing them on his huge belly as was his habit during Sunday sermon, the Reverend continued, "I have seen Ben Warner fight for the reputation of a 'Mary Magdalene'. It was my own weakness back then when I would only acknowledge the harlot in her, and could not see her as the weak and sinning woman that she was.

 

For my part, I do not wish to be judged harshly by our God. And so," – he searched Ben's eyes, - "I will not judge Ben Warner, for it is only our Lord who can do that. And I would advise all of us to refrain from judgment. As Christians we owe this to him."

 

Just as was his ritual at the end of his sermons, he raised his arms and spread them as if in blessing. Ben didn't know this, having attended church only twice in all the years he had lived in Indian Springs. But he could see that the Reverend had finished his sermon. Now it was up to the townspeople. Would they be swayed by just a few words from the Bible?

 

"We owe him a little bit more than that. We owe him our lives!"

 

The whole group was turning to the banker who had suddenly spoken up.

 

"What do you mean by that?" The marshal was at a loss at the ongoing debate about a man whose arrest he had thought to be but a formality. An outlaw and killer... saving the lives of townspeople?

 

"How can you owe him your life?"

 

"The drought," the banker answered, looking straight at the marshal. "Seven years ago there was a drought that would have destroyed us all... ranchers, merchants... everyone in this town. The town could only survive because of a loan of 14,000 dollars that was put up."

 

"Put up by a bank in Chicago, you said." The hotel owner took a stance against the banker.

 

The banker gave a cynical laugh. "A bank in Chicago that gives a loan to a no-name town in Nevada? Oh, I tried. I cabled several banks and explained our situation. I always got the same response, 'You are not the only one asking for money. Others have similar problems. Unless you can guarantee payback of our loans including interest rates, we are not interested.' None of the big banks was willing to help us. It was Ben Warner who put up the money for all of us."

 

The banker was looking around, a fire burning in his eyes. This had been his success story as well!

 

"You were all there!" he addressed the people standing around. "You were sitting in the church when I explained to you that our creditor would only ask back for 50% payment within the first two years! Who has ever heard of such a proposal by a bank? That's not banking practice, and you know it! But you took the money – we all did – because we wanted this town to survive! And survive it did...  because of Ben Warner."

 

His last words were spoken softly...reminiscently...reverently where Ben's name was concerned.

 

Lilly hadn't known. When the drought had happened she had been too young to care about such matters. But now Ben felt her eyes on him. He turned to her, and his words were spoken quietly, for her ears alone.

 

"You refused to go because of your mare. She had broken her leg. We had to stay, we had to make it work."

 

Again, Lilly's eyes filled with tears. For her. The banker was wrong. She knew her father. Whatever he had done, he hadn't done it for this town. The people here were only the beneficiaries.

 

But the banker wasn't finished yet with his impassioned speech. "You," he addressed the marshal Butterfield had brought with him, "you tell us that this man is a robber and an outlaw. Well, in all the times that I have known him he has been the exact opposite. He has never done anything that has been against the law, and he didn't steal money – he gave it!"

 

There was murmuring among the people present, and more and more people nodded and shifted their stance, swaying in their certainty about the man on display.

 

Ben smiled inwardly. As impressive as Jones' speech had been, he hadn't got it right. After all, Ben had shot a few men and hidden their bodies during the last years. And the money that he had used to support Tommy and the banker with their plan had actually come from his former robberies. Everybody seemed to assume that he had earned this money with his horses. But the truth was that it had been the railroad's money... Butterfield's money.

 

Butterfield.

 

As Ben looked at him now, there were tears in Butterfield's eyes. Ben thought of their ride to Contention many years past.

 

During their two-day ride to reach the train for Yuma Butterfield hadn't given away much of himself; for Ben he had been the hardest to read of all of them. He had never been quite sure what made Butterfield tick. Money, certainly. But there was more to him than that – or he wouldn't have offered to buy Dan out without Dan fulfilling his side of the bargain.

 

Ben also remembered when he had seen Butterfield recently at the reception in Chicago, how warmly he had greeted the other guests, how courteous he had been to his wife, and how obvious their love and care for each other had been.

 

The murmuring of the townspeople had increased. The marshal had to raise his voice to be heard.

 

"But he is an outlaw – wanted by the railroad. He never paid for his crimes."

 

"Haven't you been listening?" Sheriff Davis' voice rang out loud and clear. "He has long since paid back. He has saved this town."

 

"And he is no longer wanted by the railroad," Grayson Butterfield suddenly spoke up. "The Southern Pacific no longer claims Ben Wade's life."

 

Astonished, Ben looked at Grayson Butterfield.

 

"The railroad will have Ben Wade convicted in a Federal Court... hanged in public... an example made, and we will pay to make it happen..."

 

The words from long ago echoed in Ben's mind. Butterfield's look took in both Ben and Lilly, and Ben became aware that his eyes rested on their still entwined hands. And, finally, after all these years, Ben understood how Grayson Butterfield ticked.

 

"We have no business here, Marshal. Let's go."

 

Grayson Butterfield, President of the Southern Pacific Railroad, gave a slight nod to Ben, then he turned and headed straight for his horse. He mounted and looked at the marshal who still hesitated.

 

But the townspeople's stances had changed and the marshal realized that if he made a move against the man who sat quietly on his horse, he would be stopped.

 

Butterfield tried to engage Ben's gaze, but he couldn't. Ben had lowered his head and closed his eyes. It was over. He didn't want to make eye contact with any more people – friend or foe. All he wanted now was to go home.

 

The moment the marshal turned and walked to his horse Ben turned his own horse, and he and Lilly rode off.

 

Hours later.

 

A warm fire, almost burned down to the last ember, and a black-clad man sitting in front of it, was lost in thought.

 

Lilly was reluctant to break the silence. But the way her father was staring unseeingly into the flames - and had been for hours now - scared her. His eyes were dark – anger, pain, and something else were visible in them. The coffee she had placed beside him was cold and untouched. He hadn't spoken a word to her

since they had returned from town.

 

"Daddy..."

 

Lilly stepped beside him and placed her hand on his shoulder. But her father was still too far within the realm of his own thoughts. Her heart contracted in fear. She had to get him out of this mood. Slowly, she moved to stand in front of his armchair and lowered herself onto his lap like she had always done as a child.

 

Instinctively, his hands came around her waist and back, and he held her. Her arms found their way around his neck, and her forehead snuggled against his bearded cheek. She sighed. As if in answer he hugged her tightly.

 

"When I was in Chicago to visit Tommy I actually saw Butterfield," he said softly.

 

His voice sounded as if it came from far away.

 

"I left the gathering because I didn't want him to see and recognize me..."  And now he had come to expose him anyway.

 

"Aren't you scared of your father now, Lilly?"

 

She looked at him astonished. The look he gave her tore at her heart. Scared of him?

 

"Why should I be, Daddy?"

 

"I'm a killer... an outlaw..."

 

Lilly hugged him tightly. She didn't know how to react to his self-accusation.

 

"They might have put you into jail."

 

A dry laugh emanated from her father. "They might have hanged me right there."

 

Lilly sat up straight and stared at him, now really scared. "Hanged you?"

 

Suddenly she remembered the story Johnny had once told about the hanging... the lynching... of a man – for the crime of taking a horse! She shivered at the thought.

 

"It’s okay, Lilly,” her father said, “it's over."

 

"They could have killed you, Daddy. You could have died."

 

"I'm not scared of death."

 

"You weren't afraid to die?" she asked him.

 

"No." He laughed. It was an honest, carefree laugh. "I've been close to death so often it doesn’t scare me any longer."

 

Shocked by his answer she examined his face. "How can you not be afraid of death?" she asked.

 

"Lilly... everyone dies. It's a waste of time to be afraid of something that is sure to come. And," he added after a short pause, "I have found that people who are afraid of death are usually also afraid of life."

 

He could see that she didn't understand him. Well... time would teach her that. Tenderly, he combed her hair out of her face as was his habit.

 

"It's late, Little Flower. Let's go to bed."

 

Reluctantly, Lilly got up and both climbed the stairs in an ominous silence. When she stood at her bedroom door Lilly turned to her father.

 

"Will you tell me about your past?”

 

"I don't think you want to hear this, Lilly."

 

The words, although spoken softly, lingered in her mind like a threat. Did she really not want to know the truth about her father?

 

 

“What are you doing?”

 

William had been looking for his younger brother to talk to him about his children. Sandy had done a good job calming them down and caring for them ever since their mother had died, but the couple’s willingness to carry the burden all by themselves had grown short. When he hadn’t found his brother Mark in the house William had come into the stable. Mark had saddled up his horse and a pack horse.

 

At William’s question Mark turned to him.

 

“What does it look like?”

 

William shook his head. “You can’t leave, Mark.”

 

“I’m not staying in a town that doesn’t want me,” was Mark’s answer. He took the reins of both the horses and led them out of the stable. Then he mounted without another word.

 

William stopped him with a hand on his horse’s reins.

 

“What about your children?” he asked.

 

The look that his younger brother gave him was cold. “The children of a murderess!”

 

“A Murderess?”

 

“She killed her child first, and then she killed herself.”

 

“They are your children, too, Mark. And they are also God’s children, aren’t they?”

 

But William’s attempt to bring religion into this backfired, as it usually did with his brother.

 

“The Lord God will feed his flock, don’t you worry, William.”

 

Then Mark turned the horses. Without another word or a look back he left the ranch.

  

The exposure of the outlaw Ben Wade left its mark on the town and its people. For some it hadn’t been personal, merely an exciting distraction from their every-day life, but for others it had been a soul-searching experience, and they had to come to grips with a few new, unsettling thoughts.

 

But nowhere the changes were as profound as they were on the Horseshoe ranch.

 

For three days Ben and Lilly circled each other, none of them quite capable or willing to address the subject that kept their minds occupied. Was their unique relationship going to break under the revelations of Ben’s past?

 

Ben finally decided he wouldn’t be the one to speak first. If Lilly really wanted to know, she had to speak up.

 

Lilly, on the other hand, pondered his words – again and again. Was there reason to be afraid of her father? Could what he had to tell make her love him less? Should she rather forego learning the truth about his life? She couldn’t decide. She was still shaken by his admission not to be afraid of death. How could he be fearless in the face of death? She had to think this over first.

 

She stood there pondering something. He could see it. Her face was serious, but she was calm. He couldn't quite determine whether he should be worried or not. A deep breath of hers made him walk up to her side and touch her shoulder. She woke out of her reverie.

 

"Sad, Little Flower?" he asked her.

 

She shook her head and smiled up at him. In her eyes lay a serenity and a wisdom he had scarcely seen before, and he wondered what it was exactly she had been thinking about.

 

Lilly had been pondering what he had explained to her in their conversation, that the fear of death was a waste of time. Could he be right?

 

What if she were to die giving birth to her child? Lilly knew that there was nothing she could do to change anything. No amount of fear she might have, no begging, no prayer – nothing! – could take away death should it await her. She could break under the strain of this thought, or she could shake it off and take life as it came and make the best of whatever was to come.

 

But what if she died while her child survived? – Well, in that case her father would take care of her child. She knew this as certainly as she knew in her heart that he would lay down his life for her. Having reached this point in her thoughts she took a deep breath. Her father was right. There was no point in being scared of death.

 

A hand touched her shoulder.

 

"Sad, Little Flower?"

 

No. How could she be sad?

 

She turned and looked at him, beholding a man she loved with all her heart. Without him knowing it he had – again – helped her navigate the difficult territory of being a woman, of being with child... simply of being alive. How had he become the man he was? She simply HAD to know!

 

She reached out for him, and they came together in an embrace that defined and confirmed everything they were to each other.

 

“Daddy, tell me about yourself."

 

"What do you want to hear?"

 

"Tell me about your life."

 

He was aware of the fact that she didn't want any of the old stories she already knew. It was his years outside the law she was interested in. So far he hadn't revealed anything. But she was the only person left who was important to him, the only person with a right to know. He could see that she had thought it over and wanted to know. It was time to break the silence.

 

"Ask me," he offered.

 

Lilly hesitated. What did she want to know? "Who was the first man you killed?"

 

"A farmer named Dorsett. "

 

"How? Why?"

 

Blood gushing from a wound, and the stink of blood! No way he would put that image in her head and tell her how Dorsett had died!

 

"He hit me. I hit back... harder."

 

"But then, it was self-defence! It wasn't killing."

 

Not quite true, Lilly. Not when you take an axe, however justified your fighting back might be.

 

"How old were you?" she asked when he kept silent.

 

"Fifteen."

 

Fifteen! So much younger than Johnny was. Younger than herself, even! Lilly looked at her father. His hair was streaked with grey – even more than it had been only days before that fateful event in town. She couldn't imagine him as a boy of fifteen.

 

"Where were your parents?"

 

"Both gone when I was eight. I lived on the street."

 

"Nobody took care of you?"

 

A soft smile settled on her father's face. "Martha. A whore. She took me in and took care of me."

 

Martha and her morning inspections of his inadequate attempts at washing. How she had made sure he washed his ears... how she had inspected his hair for vermin... how she had taken his hands and given them the once over, especially his fingernails which were never as neat as they should have been...

 

Martha and her frequent hugs and their nightly cuddles...

 

And then the day when she had told him she wasn't allowed to have him any longer, and he had to leave the cat-house...

 

"But then she couldn't feed me any longer. I was getting too big. And so I had to start working on Dorsett's farm..."

 

"Why there?" Lilly asked.

 

"It was the place Martha took me to. Nobody else would take a stray boy that had been..."

 

"That had been... what?"

 

Growing up in a brothel, he had wanted to say but had swallowed the words just in time.

 

"Well, I didn't have any parents. People are suspicious of you when they don't know your folks."

 

Lilly nodded. That was true. "So, after you... killed this man... did you return to Martha?"

 

"No. I couldn't. I had to run."

 

The truth was, he had returned to her... Even though he knew he had to flee justice he couldn't leave without saying good-bye to the one person that had taken care of him, the one person he cared about. But when he had come to the cat-house the girls there had told him that Martha had died the year before...

 

Martha - dead. He hadn't known about it. - And so the last line that had bound him to this place had been cut off...

 

"But why did you have to run away?"

 

"They would have hanged me otherwise."

 

"But it was self-defence!"

 

"But they might not have seen it that way. No point of handing over your life to people you can't trust."

 

Lilly's thoughts went back to the day they had stood in front of the townspeople. When the women had spoken up against her, it had felt like judgment day, and she wondered how much worse that day must have been for her father.

 

Lilly didn’t realize it yet, but with the events in town her faith and trust in people had been crushed. Wasn't her father right? If people she had known all her life would do this to her, what would they have done to her father?

 

Ben watched her closely, and he could hear her thoughts as easily as if she had spoken them aloud. He nodded confirmation.

 

"Could have gone different back in town," he said. "I might just as well been hanged, Lilly. You can never be sure what people do when they flock together."

 

Overwrought by her father's revelations – and her new thoughts about people – Lilly shook her head violently. Ben couldn't quite decide whether she just needed to get her head straightened out, or if she was overwhelmed by it all. After all, she had never had to face anything similar before. But then he saw tears form in her eyes, and slowly run down her cheeks...

 

This time Ben resisted the urge to walk over to where she sat and comfort her. Perhaps it was best to let her be. It hurt nobody to be careful with people. Let her learn this hard lesson early in life without assuring her that everything would always work itself out. Because, truth was, sometimes it didn't. And if there had been one lesson for Ben on that day of exposure, it had been this: One day he would no longer be there to protect Lilly. And it was paramount that she be capable of protecting herself!

 

He got up and prepared coffee while his life continued to pass before his inner eye. So many places, so many people, always on the run. Suddenly, it seemed like a miracle that he was sitting safe in his own house with his grown-up daughter opposite him.

 

Lilly had been thinking very much in the same direction.

 

"If you were an outlaw for so long, and people could recognise you, how did you manage to turn honest? Why did you come here to Indian Springs?"

 

"I didn't start here, Lilly," Ben said. He had never told anybody of the many efforts he had made to turn honest, to arrive where he stood now. But Lilly had asked, and it actually felt good to get it all off his chest. To tell it to the one woman in his life who ought to know the truth about him.

 

He drank deeply from his coffee.

 

"First thing I tried was build up a business in Buena. It was near the Mexican border, in case someone recognised me and I would have to cross over to be safe again. I was there couple of days, established myself. But then there was a card sharp in the saloon whom I had met before. He was known in town. And he threatened to sell me to the sheriff."

 

"So you had to leave and ride for your life?" Lilly asked.

 

"No use." Ben shook his head. "He would have told the sheriff anyway to get the reward. I had to kill him to stay safe."

 

He took another sip of his coffee, mostly to evade Lilly's eyes. Another killing. He wasn’t sure how much truth she could take. But Lilly wasn't shocked. She began to understand what it meant to be never – never! – safe.

 

"Next thing I tried I was going to Reef, mining town," Ben continued his tale. "Wanted to buy a tungsten mine there. But there was a whore in the saloon who knew me. We had met before in Dodge City. Wasn't safe to stay. And so I moved on. I was looking for a quiet little spot where nobody would recognize me and nobody would come through. Indian Springs seemed right.”

 

“Nobody knew you here,” Lilly added.

 

He chuckled. "Before you were born, William Evans and his mother and brother came to Indian Springs. I thought of packing and leaving then. But there was Tommy and your mother. And the ranch was getting on so well. I didn't want to go. I was done with running."

 

For a moment Ben was quiet, remembering his conversation with William Evans all those years ago.

 

“William assured me he wouldn’t tell anybody. I decided it was worth taking the risk. - And it was.”

 

As luck would have it, there was a knock on the door, and William Evans entered. As Ben looked at him, he tried to fuse the 18-year-old boy he had just told Lilly about with the 35-year-old man in front of him. William had grown into a man in Indian Springs; his slender body had shaped into a broa