"Lou, hurry up would ya!"

"Hold your horses Kid. I’m almost ready."

"Our reservation is for seven. It’s gettin’ on to seven, and we ain’t even left yet."

"Our what’s for seven?"

"Reservation. This restaurant we’re goin’ to is real fancy, and you have to tell’em what time you’ll be
there or you won’t get a table. Now hurry! I dropped Jeremiah and Theresa off at Buck’s over an hour
ago, so you don’t have any excuses for bein’ late," groused an exasperated Kid.

"Okay, how do I look?"

"Y’mean I can open my eyes now?"

"Well yes, silly."

Kid, who had been sitting slumped over on the bed, with his elbows resting on his knees and his head
resting on his hands, looked up at his wife. His eyes widened at the sight of her. She was breathtaking.
Her hair had been growing out since they married several years before, and now looking at her, Kid
had no clue how he could have ever mistaken her for a boy.

"If I had known how pretty you were going to make that dress look, I’d of bought you three or four
of’em."

Lou beamed at her husband. "Let’s get goin’!" She ordered with mock severity.

Kid had gone to great lengths to make this night special for his wife. The fancy restaurant Kid had
mentioned was called Fair Lilah, and it had only been open for two weeks. While it was being built Lou
made a comment about how nice she thought it was going to look when it was finished. So right then,
Kid had decided that no matter how expensive it was, he was taking his wife there for their fourth
anniversary. The day it had opened, he went to speak to the man who owned it to make some very
special plans for a romantic evening. The man, Mr. Wilson, had been very helpful, and assured him 
that he would see to it that their night was perfect. Now the only problem was getting his bride there 
on time. Kid urged the horses on, and hoped they would make it on time.

Kid and Lou made it to the door of Fair Lilah right at seven, by Kid’s watch anyway. A lovely young
woman with flame red hair greeted them at the door.

"Hello there," she said. "You wouldn’t happen to be Mr. and Mrs...uh… Kid, would you?"

"That would be us," Lou said laughing. "I’m Louise and this is my husband Kid."

"Let me show you to your table," the woman grinned. "My name is Lilah, and I’ll be your server
tonight. If there is anything I can do to make your evening more enjoyable, please feel free to ask. Is
this to your liking?" She indicated a table set off in a quiet candlelit corner.

"Absolutely." Lou bobbed her head enthusiastically. "So are you the fair Lilah this place is named
after?" Lou queried.

"As a matter of fact I am. My Dad’s a little narrow minded when it comes to naming his eateries."
Rolling her eyes, she grinned and continued. "Let’s see there’s Lilah’s Garden, Lovely Lilah’s, Lady
Lilah’s…" Grimacing, the Lilah in question stuck her finger in her mouth and made a most unladylike
gagging noise. "If he wanted to be honest, he should have named one Looney Lilah! Frankly, I think
Daddy needs to branch out a little on the name front, but he insists that Lilah is the most beautiful name in the world. He’s not biased or anything, really." Lou laughed at the woman’s obvious sarcasm, and accepted a menu from her.

"Let me get your drink order, then I’ll let you have some time with the menu," Lilah said, absently
digging in the pocket of her apron for her pad and pencil.

Kid shrugged, "I’ll just have water."

"Same here," Lou added. Lilah lifted one russet eyebrow at the two.

"Wow, you guys don’t need to get so wild on me there. I don’t want you two getting rowdy. I hear the
Marshal in this town it a real stickler!" Lilah winked at Lou, knowing full well that Kid was the
"stickler" Marshal. "I’ll go get that water for you while you peruse the menu." With her last 
statement she was off to another table.

"I like her." Lou stated happily. "Kid, what’s peruse?" Kid merely shrugged, his eyes glued to the menu.

Lilah was back within moments. She placed glasses of water before the happy couple, all the while
chattering.

"I know you only asked for water, but we have these wonderful berry flavored teas that came all the
way from Italy, that no one around here is adventurous enough to try. So I brought you the blackberry
flavored ones on the house." She turned to leave, but stopped short.

"Oh! I almost forgot." She took a rose from her tray and placed it with a flourish in front of Lou. Next,
she placed a tiny square of paper beside the rose.

"I’ll be back soon to get your order." She said leaving a very confused Lou staring after her. Lou
picked up the paper. It had one letter printed neatly in her husband’s handwriting. "F," she 
questioned him. He smirked at her, denying her an answer.

True to her word, Lilah was back quickly.

"Have you decided what you would like to eat tonight?" She asked as she placed another rose and an
additional piece of paper in front of Lou. Kid ignored the confused protests from his wife. The O she
had received this time had no doubt deepened her curiosity.

"I’d like the veal please, Ma’am." Kid smiled at his wife who was still staring at the items in front of
her, dumbfounded.

"Uh…well…er..ah," she sputtered. "Uh, chicken. The er… chicken Parmesan." Lilah shot Kid a
knowing grin.

"I’ll have that out in a jiffy."

Lou stared at her husband. "So, are you goin’ to tell me what this is all about?"

"No." He replied, slurping at his Italian tea. "Hey," he grinned widely at Lou. "Try yours." He indicated the drink sitting untouched in front of her. "This is really good."

Rolling her eyes, she took a tentative sip, and her face brightened.

"Delicious." She smiled suggestively at Kid. "Y’know, I was thinking maybe we should bring something home for Buck. After all, he got baby-sitting duty, and I’m sure he’ll be half starved after a night of bein’ Uncle Buck."

Nodding in agreement, Kid asked. "What do you think he’d want?"

"Hmm… maybe a steak?"

Kid shook his head. "Naw, how good would a steak be by tomorrow when we go pick up the kids.
Anyway, I think he’d be more inclined to like Lilah. Think we could wrap her up, and bring her home 
to him?"

Lou’s eyes lit up. "We aren’t bringing him anything home," Lou announced. "I’m bringing him here 
for lunch tomorrow as a thank you for keepin’ the kids tonight."

Seeing the direction his wife’s thoughts were going, Kid shook his head, and inquired, "and just who will keep the kid’s while you’re at lunch. You know very well that I can’t keep’em at the Marshal’s office.  I never know what’s going to happen while I’m there, and Teaspoon’s busy with bein’ the new
Mayor."

Lou nodded, "Yes, and that leaves Rachel. Ever since she quit teachin’ and married Teaspoon, she’s
been whinin’ about how bored she gets sittin’ around all day." Lou stuck her chin up haughtily, and a
self-satisfied grin split her face.

"You just got everything figured out don’t you." Kid admitted defeat, but had one warning left for his
wife. "Lou, you just make sure you’re not setting him up for another heartbreak." Ego deflated, Lou
watched as Lilah whizzed by with yet another rose and letter.

A very ebullient Lou sat smiling down at the dozen roses piled on the table as well as the twelve 
letters that she had arranged in the order they had been received in. Forever yours was peeking out from beneath an empty plate at her.

"Honey," Lou said, her eyes shining with tears. "This it just so sweet."

Kid watched her put a tiny hand over her mouth, as she fought tears.

"Happy anniversary Louise." He reached across the table, and taking hold of the hand that still covered her mouth, he brought it palm up to his mouth and kissed it. A quiet voice disturbed their moment.

"Pardon me, I hate to interrupt, but I couldn’t let you leave without dessert." Lilah was lowering a huge long stemmed glass full of pudding onto their table.

"But we didn’t order des…" Lou’s protest died in her throat when she noticed something shiny running round the stem of the glass. Lilah beat a hasty retreat, wishing for the young couple to have more privacy. Lou’s eyes snapped up to meet Kid’s, and with shaking fingers she untangled the gleaming necklace from the glass. It was a thin tasteful gold chain that was adorned with one dangling ruby in the shape of a heart.

"Kid it’s beautiful."

"Here, let me put it on you." He slid out of his seat, and put the gift around his wife’s neck, letting his
hands skim across her shoulders and down her arms. He leaned into her, and whispered.

"Now, when I work too many hours and I don’t show you how much I care, you can touch this, and
know you have my heart." The dewy eyed twosome sat together enjoying the company as well as the
pudding. Kid was so pleased that Mr. Wilson had delegated the responsibility for their night to his
daughter. She had done a truly remarkable job with all of the ideas he had thrown around with her
father the day he made reservations.

When the pudding and the tears were gone, Lilah came to clear away some of the empty plates and
give Kid the bill.

"How was the food?" She inquired. Lou snapped out of her love-induced haze at the sound of another
voice.

"Oh, Lilah the food was divine! As a matter of fact, I was wonderin’ if I could get a table for lunch
tomorrow. I was going to bring our friend Buck here to thank him for keeping my brother and sister
tonight."

Lilah’s face bloomed into a contagious smile. "That sounds great! You don’t have to have reservations
for lunch, and even if it’s crowded I’ll save a table for you. When do you think you’ll get here?"

"How about noon?"

"Sounds good. I’ll guard your table with my life."

"So you’ll be here tomorrow?"

"Absolutely. I’ll even be your waitress. Hey, since you’re bringing me new customers I’ll throw in free
dessert! You two have a marvelous night and a safe trip home." With that she was gone. Kid left the
money on the table, and took his wife’s hand.

"You ready to get home?" he asked quietly, anticipating the rest of the evening.

"If you don’t mind, I’d like to go by Teaspoon and Rachel’s to show Rachel my necklace."

"Yeah, right." Kid put the horses in motion. "You just want to make sure Rachel will take the kids while you go off tryin’ to get Buck a woman." Kid snickered.

"Well, when you put it that way, it sounds horrible." Lou scowled, indignant. "Seriously, Kid. I just want Buck to be happy. He’s got a real good business breedin’ horses and all, and he’s got a nice house and plenty of money. But he just seems so isolated. He’s been like a hermit, shuttin’ himself up in that house since the day he finished building it. I see him watch us and Rachel and Teaspoon, and 
the kids. His eyes just look so sad. He deserves to be loved. He deserves the chance to be a husband and a father, and Lilah’s such a nice girl."

Ending her diatribe, Lou busied herself fingering the necklace about her throat. Kid watched his wife. If Lilah were half the woman Lou was she’d make the man Kid held as a brother very, very happy.

"You’re a good woman, Lou."
 

Chapter 2

"Shshshhh. They’re still sleeping." Buck whispered, as he held the door open for Lou. She tip toed in,
and gave Buck a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks for watchin’ them for us."

"Oh, they were no trouble at all. We played with the horses, drew pictures, and I read them some of
those little books Kid brought with them. We had fun." Buck looked affectionately down at the two
children sprawled amidst a storm of blankets on the living room floor. For some odd reason, they
always wanted to "camp out" on the floor when they spent the night with Buck.

"You want me to wake them up?" Buck asked.

"No, I wanted to talk to you first."

Buck nodded, and lead her into the kitchen.

"Want some coffee?" he offered, as he put some water on to boil.

"No thanks." She made herself comfortable at the table, noting the masculine disarray of the place. It
wasn’t that Buck was messy, but his home lacked the sense of organization that women commonly
brought into a household.

"I wanted to thank you for takin’ the kids on such short notice. So, I made reservations for us at the
restaurant Kid and me ate at last night."

"Lou, you don’t have to do that. I enjoy the kids, no matter how short the notice. Anyway, there pretty
much old enough to keep themselves, but they have this paranoid sister," Buck trailed off.

"C’mon Buck where’s your sense of adventure? Please come with me, it’s my treat."

"I’m not letting you pay for me to eat Lou. Besides, a fancy place like that probably doesn’t allow
Indians anyway," he stated matter-of-factly, as he sat across from her. Lou’s heart dropped. She hated
it that the people in their town still showed him hatred. For the most part, he was tolerated because 
his friends held positions of authority in the town. Some people had even grown to respect him for the
honorable man he was, but those were unfortunately few.

"Buck please, I have the owner’s daughter holding a table for us. She’s expecting us," Lou pleaded, 
as she watched Buck for a reaction. He sat staring at his hands, contemplative.

"She promised us free dessert, and the food’s real good," Lou added. Buck still made no move.

"Buck Cross! Get up stairs, and change clothes right this instant. You are goin’ with me to lunch if I
have to drag you by the hair!" Lou challenged.

"All right!" He held his hands up. "I surrender. Goodness Lou, those kids are right, you do have "the
mother tone." She threw her purse at him as he charged up the stairs, laughing all the way.

After transplanting the children, Buck and Lou were on their way. When they arrived, the scene was
not at all what they had expected. The area around the front of the establishment was clogged with
curious townspeople. As they began to part, Lou caught a glimpse of red hair. Lilah stood only a few
feet from the opening of the restaurant, gesticulating madly, at Kid. Speaking rapidly, she seemed to 
be pleading with him. Kid stood in front of her trying to calm her down.

"It’s my job to feed these people. I understand that you’re just doing your job Kid, but I’m just doing
mine. It’s really no big deal." The shaking of her hands belied the nonchalance of her words.

Buck, having been deputized several times over the years in order to help Teaspoon, as well as Kid, out of tough situations, took charge. He started trying to get the meddlesome crowd to back away from the building. With that chore done, he followed Lou to the side of the stubborn woman arguing with his
friend. He had meant to ask her what happened, but when he saw her the question died in his throat.
He stood silently and gawked at the peerless creature that stood before him. She was the most
hauntingly beautiful woman Buck had ever set eyes on. Her hair was a deep russet; its wild curls
tumbled down her back, nipping at her waist. It seemed to him that fire surrounded her face, grazing
her temples and cheeks with blazing tendrils. He noticed that not even one freckle resided anywhere on her skin. She was so pale and flawless, that she seemed to have been carved from alabaster. 
Fringed in red lashes were a pair of great black eyes. They were so dark that Buck could scarcely tell where her pupils ended and her irises began. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. He knew that hair and those eyes were going to haunt his dreams for months.

"Louise! There you are. Could you please tell your husband that I have hungry people to take care 
of!" Lilah cried as Lou emerged from the crowd.

"What happened, Lilah?" Lou asked, closing ground on the arguing duo. Lou stepped close to Lilah,
taking her hands. "Just tell me what’s goin’ on."

With the two women standing so close, Buck noticed that Lilah was maybe an inch taller that Lou, but
she seemed more statuesque because of her bearing. She had a self-possessed manner, with her head
held high, and her chin jutting out resolutely that made her seem larger than life. Buck finally managed
to catch his wits, and took both Lou and Kid by the elbow.

"Wouldn’t it be better if we took this inside away from eager ears?" He suggested quietly.

"Yes Sir," Lilah replied readily. "Shall we?" She gestured with one arm toward the door. Lou, Kid, 
and Lilah went through the door with Buck bringing up the rear.

With the foursome seated companionably at a table, Kid implored, "Lilah, Please just tell me one more
time what happened."

Face plastered with a long-suffering expression, Lilah sighed deeply, and recounted her harrowing
morning.

"I was doing my morning chores. Organizing the dishes and flatware, taking account of how much we
had of what ingredients, and making sure that the night staff had taken care of everything properly the
night before. Well, I was in the middle of checking our wine rack to see what we needed to order more
of, when several bottles of wine shattered simultaneously; or so it seemed to me. That’s when I 
noticed that my ears were ringing. I turned around, and caught a glimpse of someone racing out the door, and still didn’t comprehend that I’d been shot at until I noticed the silver blob peeping out of the wall right next to my head."

"When did this happen?"

"Around nine-fifty. The rest of the staff gets here at ten. Just minutes after it happened, Sarah, one of
our waitresses came in to work. She’s the girl who came to get you."

"She didn’t get to my office ‘til about ten-thirty. Where was she all that time?"

"I had her ask the other employees to wait out front. I think they’ve all gone home by now," she 
added ruefully.

"The shooter didn’t ask for money?" Kid asked, eyes narrowed.

"No, not a word."

"They never tried to attack you personally?"

"No."

Nothing in the cash box had been touched?"

"No."

"Lilah, do you have any enemies?" Lou broke into the interrogation.

"None that I know of. Well, the shopkeeper…the… uh… Oh! The Thompkins fellow last night 
insisted that I was dim witted, and I assured him that my intelligence was more than quadruple his. But I didn’t accidentally spill anything on him," she noted, emphasizing the accidentally. "He was just mad because I refused to join him for dinner. Do you think it could have been the way I turned him down?"

"What do you mean?" Kid asked only out of duty. He knew Thompkins could be obnoxious, but he
wouldn’t try to kill someone.

"Well," she started, looking sheepish. "I told him I would rather skin myself with a spoon."

Buck roared with laughter, his heart felt belly laugh soon had every one cackling so hard that they could barely breathe. Kid’s serious nature pulled him first from the merriment.

"No Ma’am. I don’t think that’s it," he said, still smiling. Sobered, Lilah’s face fell.

"Well, what do you think is going on?" The concern in her voice was evident.

"I have no idea, but I do intend to find out," Kid murmured. An unfamiliar voice speared through the
tension in the room with a reverberating bellow.

"Why exactly are there only four people in this establishment, why is the kitchen floor marinating in 
my good wine, and what the Hell is going on!"

Kid shot up from his chair.

"Mr. Wilson, I can explain." Favoring the straight to the point method of bad news rendering, Kid
plunged on. "Someone tried to kill your daughter this morning."

All of the heat in William Wilson’s face faded instantaneously. He felt as if all the strength in his body
had been drained out of his toes, leaving him profoundly shaken. With weak knees, he made his way to
the table the foursome congregated at. He went straight to Lilah, pulling her out of her chair by her
arms. He crushed her to his chest in a desperate, terrified embrace that spoke volumes about what his
only child meant to him. Still not trusting himself to speak, he thrust Lilah away from him, and checked
her for any signs of physical harm. Lilah’s equanimity shattered.

"I’m so sorry Daddy," she sobbed. "I’ll have this place full in twenty minutes flat, and I’ll have the mess in the kitchen clean within the hour. I won’t let you down again, Daddy I promise."

She moved to make good on her word, but her father urged her back into her chair. He took both of her tiny hands in his, noting that they were disturbingly cold and still trembling slightly.

"Are you crazy, Lilah? None of this is any more your fault than …than frogs being green." Terribly
confused, Lilah stared wide-eyed at her father as he continued to speak.

"My biggest concern is you, child. Now, are you going to tell me what happened, or am I supposed to
guess!"

With one hand, he pulled a chair from another table, sat, and then he went back to sandwiching Lilah’s
frigid hands between his warm ones. He stared at her, waiting for her to begin. She didn’t want to go
over it again. With every repetition of the story it seemed more real to her. That morning, as she waited for Kid to arrive, the entire ordeal seemed so surreal that she fancied she had imagined it.
Unfortunately, evidence of the reality of it all was oozing about her feet, and stuck in the wall. It all
seemed much more terrifying now that she had a small group of people crowded around her with faces
shrouded in concern. She knew it was irrational, but she was hoping that perhaps if she didn’t say it
again, then it wouldn’t be true. She searched her father’s face for an understanding of her urge, but he
still waited for the account to roll out of her mouth, yet again. Her chin began to tremble, and
unwelcome tears began to fall in streams down her cheeks. Buck, who had been sitting cater-corner to
her could feel distress rolling off of her in palpable waves.

"Kid, maybe you could discuss the incident with Mr. Wilson while I take Miss Wilson outside for a
breath of fresh air."

Noting the pallor of her face, Mr. Wilson agreed readily. Buck walked around the table, and gently 
took her by the elbow. He considered taking her out of the back door to hide her from prying eyes, 
but he’d have to take her through the kitchen for that. He decided that would be much too difficult for her, and settled for the front door. She leaned heavily on him as they made their way out. For the first time, he noticed the sweet scent of her. It was an intoxicating mixture of soap and citrus. It was clean and tangy and sweet all at the same time, but the thing that really sent his olfactory nerves into a frenzy
was the naturalness of it. It wasn’t perfume that made her smell so delicious; it was all her. One of the
things that he’d noticed over the years about white women was the perfume that many of them wore.
They commonly favored strong synthetic scents, when he preferred natural ones. Buck was shaken
from his musing when Lilah spoke.

"I’m sorry. I know I’m being ridiculous about this."

"There is absolutely nothing to apologize for. You’re holding up better than most of the men I’ve seen
in similar situations. You should be proud that you kept a cool head. It’s not easy knowing that someone wants you dead, much less knowing they took steps to make you that way."

"I really appreciate that. You’re name is Buck, right?" She asked, desperate to change the subject.

"Yeah, right, Buck Cross. How did you know?"

"Well, last night Louise mentioned you by name. She said that you were baby-sitting for her, and that
she wanted to bring you here to thank you. Oh my!" She started. "You must be starving! Here I am
whining about having a bad morning, and you’re probably famished."

"I’m just fine." He led her to a bench within yelling distance of the restaurant. "And you had much
worse than a bad morning," he noted, dropping onto the bench. He noticed that the milling crowd had
vanished. The good citizens of Rock Creek were bustling around tending to their own business for
once.

Purposefully ignoring his allusion to the morning’s brouhaha, Lilah began prattling about anything but
violence.

"Well, your empty stomach outweighs my crummy morning because it’s my job to feed you. After all,
Louise brought you to me so that I could do just that. Besides, I’m curious, Mr. Cross, how do you
know Kid and Louise?"

"I prefer Buck ma’am, and we used to work together for the pony express."

"Seriously! That must have been so exciting! What was it like? What did Louise do with the express?"

Buck was warmed by her genuine interest. She didn’t seem the least bit nonplused to be sitting in
rather close proximity to a half-breed; in public no less.

"We were all riders." He stressed the all part of his statement. "We’ve been family ever since."

"All? Louise was a rider? But she’s so tiny."

"Lou may be small, but she can sit a saddle and shoot with the best of us."

"It’s amazing that you’re still so close when the pony express closed so long ago."

"It seems like yesterday, but time doesn’t matter. We’ll always be close. Lou and Kid are my brother
and sister in every way that counts. I even lived with them a while when I was trying to get my horse
ranch off the ground. I had the money for the land, the stock, and to build a real nice barn, but that was
it. I’d planned to sleep in the barn. I figured that if it was good enough for my animals it was good
enough for me. Lou refused to let me sleep in there with my stock. I tried my best to ignore her 
raving about it not being right, until she showed up one night with a blanket. She said she was staying with me until I got the fool notion out of my head. She also reminded me I’d be torturing my animals because I snore so loud they wouldn’t be able to sleep. She wasn’t about to leave without me, so I 
went home with her. She may be a little woman, but she’s got a big stubborn streak. It was awful crowded at their house with five people and all, but we had such a good time living together again that we didn’t worry too much about having each other under foot."

"Do you have any other family?"

"I have a brother, Red Bear, but I don’t know where he is. He’s a Kiowa war chief. Or, he was
anyway. I don’t even know if he’s still alive."

"Why don’t you look for him?

"If he is still alive I could only bring him trouble. It doesn’t matter how many times I prove my Kiowa
spirit the Kiowa people still distrust me. I don’t need to add to my brother’s burdens. He knows my
home is always open to him. He’ll come if he needs me." Buck had been staring into his past, but 
Lilah suddenly slid into focus. She looked distressed. Someone had tried to kill her only hours before, and here he was grumbling about his problems. At least he hadn’t been shot at lately.

"I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to burden you with all of this."

"I’m not burdened at all. Well, by you I mean. It just breaks my heart that you have a brother floating
around out there, but you can’t see him. I’m big on family being together. I’ve only got my father. My
Momma died from Influenza when I was ten. It’s been just the two of us for so long that I can’t even
imagine being in a big family or having anyone under foot. One of these days, though…Daddy will be
tripping over his grandbabies. I can just see him reading bedtime stories to them." She smiled wistfully.  "When I was a little girl, my father and I had a routine. First, we would say our prayers together. Then, he would read a chapter a night to me, out of the book of my choice, right before bed. When he had finished with the nightly chapter, or two if I begged enough, and he got up to tuck me in, there would be a warm spot from where he sat. Then I would squirm down in the bed until I got to that warm spot because I was forever cold, and I’m pretty sure that’s the reason I love books so much." Buck could  do nothing more than stare at her. She was far away elsewhere floating through a hopeful future and sweet memories from her past. Color was finally beginning to make a reappearance in her cheeks, and her eyes seemed to gleam with some internal incandescence Buck could not begin to name. She was beauty personified, and Buck was smitten.

"You love to read, huh?" Buck inwardly winced. That was an idiotic question. Buck gave himself a
proverbial kick. That’s what she just said. Buck was grappling for something intelligent to say. He was
hoping that it would make up for the sheer stupidity of his last statement. As it turned out, he didn’t
have to.

"Oh, I love to read. I’ll read anything. Poems, novels, fiction, non-fiction, anything I’m capable of
reading, I will! Daddy teases me because sometimes when we eat at the restaurant, I'll read the menu
just to read it. Isn't that crazy?"

"Yup," Buck agreed. That’s crazy!" Buck smirked, lifting a thin black brow at her.

"Y’know Buck, something just occurred to me. If you have a brother named Red Bear, then why is
your name so…well, white?"

"I have a Kiowa name too."

She crossed her eyes at him, "and it is?" She giggled, drawing out the is.

"Running Buck."

"So where did the Cross part come from?"

"Well when I was about fourteen or so, my brother talked me into exploring my white half. I think he
saw the nightmare that was coming with the whites, and just wanted me safe. Anyway, I ended up in a
mission school. I did learn how to read and write, but it was less a school and more a way to try to
make the heathen boy act white and catholic. The nuns insisted that I had to have a last name, and one
of them said, ’He’s a half-breed, a cross between Indian and white. So, we’ll call him Buck Cross.’
And that was it. I became Buck Cross that day."

"You hated that school didn’t you?"

"Yes, but there were some good things about it."

"Like what?" The thought of Ike made Buck feel like a weight was growing in his chest. All of a
sudden he couldn’t breathe. He wanted to tell her all about his best friend, but the pain was still too
much to take. He opened his mouth to explain, but she put her hand on his arm. "You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to."

"Thanks." Buck’s breath constricted again, but it was not from grief this time. Lilah was so intuitive
about other people’s needs. She was just so incredible. Buck forced in a deep breath. He took in the
sweet clean scent of her. It was illegal, what he would do to be able to bury his face in those beautiful
fiery curls.
 

Chapter 3

 A lone figure paced a threadbare rug. Swaying momentarily in indecision, the figure slumped in front 
of  a fading mirror. Rabid eyes glared back. 

 "What were ya thinkin’ eh? What! What, give her a good scare, and make Daddy all nice an’ riled.
 Yeah, that’s right, always stupid! Stupid! Dead. She was supposed to be dead. The wicked are to be
 punished! She is a wicked, wicked, spiteful wretch!" Flecks of spittle coalesced in the corners of a
 mouth drawn if fury. 

 "Next time. Next time, girl I’m gonna make you hurt. I’m gonna make you hurt just like you did me.
 I’m gonna dance a gay little jig while you die." The figure began to gyrate wildly in faltering cadence 
to nonexistent music. An eruption of giggles preceded an elaborate graceless fall to the floor. Drawing in the seething hatred, and putting it away in a nice dark corner of the mind, the shooter decided that 
it would be better, much better, to stay calm. The act of taking long soothing breaths was so very
calming. Everything would turn out okay. It would. It had to.

"Think you’re ready to face your father?" They had strolled leisurely throughout the town, and had
ended up right where their journey began, in front of the restaurant. Buck couldn’t conceive of a 
better way to spend his afternoon if he spent the rest of his life trying. She heaved a heavily dramatic sigh, and ceremoniously dropped her head to his shoulder. She put her forearm to her head, and 
leaned into Buck. The, "woe is me!" she cried out was liberally spiced with a very bad southern drawl. Her giggles grew into full out body jarring laughter when she spied the look on Buck’s face. He’d taken her seriously, and the look of concern on his face had her fighting with every ounce of resolve that she had not to laugh! Resolve just wasn’t enough. A fresh onslaught of laughter took her, she poked him in the side playfully, "I was just kidding, silly!" 

Buck’s face suffused a bright glowing crimson. "Oh!" He muttered, staring at the ground. All of the
laughter died instantly in Lilah’s throat. For the first time she got a good look at Buck Cross, and now
she had her wits strung together well enough to actually pay attention. Silken ebony hair hung in wisps
over his chiseled features that still shown pink from embarrassment. Her small stature being an
advantage, she continued to take in his features while he steadfastly examined his boots. His eyes 
were boundless. He had not even made a move to look her in the eye, and yet she felt as if she were falling into him, swimming in the endless depths of a nameless substance that was singularly divine. Halting her descent into mahogany oblivion, she considered his mouth. It was, she was certain, designed to be kissed. The exquisitely sculpted lines of his cheekbones seemed to point the eye in 
the direction of his lips. They were an odd shade of pink, deeper than his bronzed skin, but the line of them seemed to have been molded into curved soft perfection by the hands of an expert artist. Her blatant examination of him snagged his notice. His eyes caught hers. She knew she’d been caught red handed, or red eyed in this case, and her face brightened into warm smile. The condition proved to be contagious when Buck treated her with a mesmerizing grin of his own. Something intangible tightened in her belly. Oh, but that man could smile. With his eyes crinkling at the corners from merriment, his white even teeth bared, and his entire visage radiating something beautiful and vital he was the most charming creature in the world without even uttering a single word. Lilah grappled with her tongue, trying to find something even remotely intelligent or witty to say, but he’d stricken her dumb with one dazzling movement of facial muscle and flesh. So she just stood there, lamely gawking at the handsome man with the fabulous lips. She decided she really must get out of the restaurant more often so that when confronted with impossibly attractive men she could keep her tongue. If he’d managed to imbed himself so thoroughly under her skin in one afternoon what hope did she have of being able to speak with any degree of reason to him in the future. 

 "Well, since you’ve done such a fabulous job of baby-sitting the nit-wit, why don’t I make good on
 Lou’s promise and feed you?" Her self-mockery was purely in jest, but Buck took her arm firmly, his
 endless eye bore into hers. 

"Lilah, you don’t have to do that. From what you’ve told us and from what the evidence says, someone
 came very close to ending your life today. It’s not a trifling matter. You don’t have to berate yourself
 or apologize for being shook up. You should be. Fear is just a form of self-preservation, and I can’t
 think of anything worthier of being preserved than life." The utter seriousness of his tone gave her
 pause. She bit her lip, and considered her position. Squaring her shoulders, she met his gaze with every bit of fire she could muster. 

"Do you want lunch or not?" The heat of her glare was at odds with the outright iciness of her words.
Lilah Wilson did not like being helpless, and more than that, she hated being reminded that she was
completely at the mercy of some vague and intangible phantasm. Left despising the absolute 
impotence of her situation, she spun on her heel, and jerked her arm heedlessly from Buck’s grasp. Her irritation goaded her several steps away before she whirled back in Buck’s direction

"I am not some pitiful, helpless waif in need of masculine condescension. I am well aware of my
predicament, and I am not stupid enough to take it lightly, Mr. Cross. I do however, choose not to dwell on it. I do not need coddling. I do not need redundant warnings to watch my back. I do not need to be reminded that I came within inches of having a bullet imbedded in my head a little less than two hours ago. I…I…" Her entire body was shaking. She wanted it to be from rage, but it was terror. The blunt force of it had waylaid her, striking in the guise of anger. 

"What do you need?" A quiet masculine voice penetrated her emotional haze. It seemed to her that he
had appeared out of nowhere. His arms were outstretched. He was offering her comfort that she
needed so greatly, but she could not will herself into his embrace. She was rooted where she stood. 

 "I need…I need to protect my father." 

 Hesitantly, he took a step forward, and reached to cup her shoulders in his hands. 

 "So who protects you?" 

 "I…I do." She stammered.

 "So it’s okay for your father to lean on you, but not for you to lean on him."

 "That’s not the way it is. It’s just that since my mother died he’s been so…I don’t know…vulnerable.
 And he’s all I’ve got."

"Well, uh." Buck’s face bloomed a hot red. "Well, I’m here. Uhm, you know, if you need me." His arms dropped from her shoulders, and he made a pretense at pushing long ebony tresses out of his face. He was shocked at himself for being so obvious. He wanted to dig a hole and bury himself in it. He had not been that transparent since his less than pleasant experience with Kathleen Devlin. Yet here he was again, trailing after Lilah like a lovesick puppy.

 "I’m sorry I yelled at you."

 "It’s okay. My horses usually kick me in the head when I irritate them. I’d say yelling is a step in a
 brighter direction."

 "So, did you want that lunch?"

 "Absolutely."

"Well then," she offered him her arm. "Follow me, kind sir." The twosome made their way to the door
of the Fair Lilah only for Lilah to tear a piece of paper from the door and grunt to herself. 

 "Well, this is just lovely."

 "What is it?" Buck asked, concerned. She held up the slightly crumpled note. Large neat letters
 explained the closing of the establishment for the day due to unforeseen difficulty.

 "Why is that so bad?"

"Well," she gnawed at the inside of her cheek. "I guess it isn’t." She released her cheek, stuck it out her lower lip, and blew a wayward auburn lock of hair from her forehead. Buck found the action to be
altogether captivating. He chided himself for the idiotic grin that must have been spread across his
face. 

 Inside, Mr. Wilson, Kid, and Lou were still where they had been left. Lilah had a sinking feeling in the
 pit of her stomach. She was certain her day was about to shift from brightening, to pitch black when
 she caught the expression on her father’s face. 

 "Daddy," she asked wearily. "What’s going on?"

 "Sit down, honey." Lilah did as she was bidden, never leaving the contact of her father’s eyes. 

 "What is it, Daddy?" 

 William took his daughter’s hands, and for the second time that day, noticed the chill of them. 

 "Lilah, we don’t know who did this, or how to find out who did this. You won’t be safe here, honey.
 You can’t work here until this madman is caught."

 "What?" she shrieked. "No! No, I will not have my life determined by some lunatic."

 "Lilah, please be reasonable." William pleaded.

"Reasonable? You want me to be reasonable. Is it reasonable to expect me to put my life on hold 
while you search for someone who may never be caught? What am I supposed to do, Daddy, hole up in a damned tower forever? Maybe you expect me to watch everyone else live their lives through a window so that I can’t come into danger. Is that what you want me to do?"

 "Lilah, you’re being ridiculous. He’ll be caught, rest assur-" 

"No I am not being ridiculous," Lilah cut in. "It doesn’t matter how good Kid may be at his job 
because we don’t have the vaguest clue as to who tried to hurt me. Furthermore-"

"Hurt you! Hurt you, child, they tried to kill you. I came far too close to being a father without a child
this morning. I’ll be damned if I don’t do everything in my power to protect my family! I promised your
mother, God rest her soul, that I’d protect you. Don’t make a liar out of me."

 "You have protected me. I’m not a child anymore Daddy. I’m an adult. Your job is done. You made
 good on your promise. I can take care of myself." A low steady voice broke into the familial battle of
 the wills. 

"Lilah," Buck spoke soothingly. "I don’t doubt for a minute that you can take care of yourself under
normal circumstances, but someone wants you dead. You don’t know what they look like. You don’t
know their voice. You don’t have any knowledge of this person that could tip you off if you came into
contact with him again. You don’t even know why they want to kill you. That leaves you real open to
attack. Lilah, please think about it for a while before you get all fired up, and refuse to take any advice.
We all just want to make sure that you’re okay." 

 The open expression on his daughter’s face was not lost on William. With grim approval, he watched
 as his impossibly willful offspring listened intently to every word out of the Indian’s mouth. William
 estimated himself to be ignorant of Indians and everything about them. The closest he’d ever come to
 one was reading a newspaper about the latest attack, but this man that had so captivated his daughter
 seemed to be a very nice man. Unfortunately, the way that his Lilah’s face seemed to lift when she
 looked at him made William incredibly antsy. It wasn’t that he thought badly of Buck as a person. He
 didn’t know him well enough to have a valid opinion at all. It was that his daughter was of a
 marriageable age, and he was certain losing her would kill him. He’d spent so many years living only
 for her that it was inconceivable to think of her in a household other than his own. She was all the
 family he had. He’d only once considered taking another wife. That was two years before, and Lilah
 had rescued him from that monumental blunder. Lilah had come to him, miserable, begging him to
reconsider. At first he thought that Lilah didn’t like the attention that he’d lavished on Jackie, the new
woman, but Lilah begged him to understand that she wanted nothing but his happiness. She insisted that she just had a very bad feeling about the woman. Lucky for him that he could deny his only child
 nothing. The woman turned out to be a fortune hunter, and had already planned how to spend his
 fortune. Merchants all over town kept asking him when he was to pay his fiancée’s debts. He’d had a
 monster of a time explaining that he did not have a fiancée. 

 Kid gaped at the scene before him. Lou’s instincts to set Lilah and Buck up were right on target. He
 was sure to get a very enthusiastic, "I told you so!" when they managed to get back home. He stole a
 glance at his wife. A huge grin split her face. She caught his look and winked. Buck and Lilah seemed
 oblivious to all of the other people in the room. There was an almost palpable weight in the air,
 measuring the distance between the two. Kid shook his head. If only the circumstances were different
 this would be such a great moment. Instead, they were all faced with the insurmountable odds of
 unearthing an extremely illusive would-be killer. He began making a mental list of possibilities. He was determined to solve this one, if not for Lilah, then for Buck. Standing, Kid interrupted, but did not break the spell whose presence was so thick in the air. 

 "Well, I have a killer to catch. So, I’ll be seein’ ya." He turned to his wife. "You comin’?" 

 She nodded, "I’m right behind you, Kid."

 "You can’t leave, no one has eaten!" Lilah started.

 "I’m sorry, Lilah, but I can’t eat right now. I’ve got work to do." Kid smiled apologetically at her,
 shoved his hat onto his head, and backed out of the restaurant. 

 "Yeah, I’m with Kid, who can eat at a time like this." Lou fought to keep a straight face. She didn’t
 know how much more obvious she could be about trying to get Lilah and Buck alone. Well, she could,
 but only if they physically pulled Mr. Wilson out of the building. She wondered if Kid was in with her, or he really did just want to get to work. She figured she’d know momentarily. 

 "We’ll be seein’ you," the couple chimed together as they exited.

 "Well then, I guess it’s just the three of us." Lilah looked first at Buck, then to her father. "Any
 requests?"
 

Chapter 4

 Buck stared at his plate. It looked like it had been attacked by a rather vigorous dishwasher. He
 couldn’t for the life of him remember what Lilah had called it, but it had been divine. Who knew some
 Italian concoction made up of layered noodles, cheese, spiced meat, and more cheese could make a
 man wish for bigger britches, Buck mused.

"How about dessert?" Lilah was standing, with various dirty dishes from their meal loaded in her arms.

"You are kidding, right?" Buck was certain he couldn’t fit another morsel in his mouth.

"Oh no, my boy. She’s not kidding. My daughter has a gift for putting meat on a man’s bones. Just 
look at me." He gave Buck a jolly smile, and patted his protruding belly.

 "If I have one more bite, I’ll have to wear the tablecloth home!" 

 Lilah and her father both laughed merrily, but Buck had been dead serious. He was pretty sure that
 when he stood up from the table, he’d have the figure of an expectant mother. 

"Well, I have a warm Italian Cream Cake sitting unloved in the kitchen. How about I cut you a piece 
to take home?"

"I’d love that," he answered, his eyes never leaving her. Buck valued every moment he got to look at
 her. He started with the blazing crown of her head, and let his eyes leisurely wander down her
 hourglass shape. He was nearing the narrow space that was her waist when he noticed the she was
 holding the plates at an odd angle. She had the weight of the pile shifted toward her right arm. He
 wondered what she was doing that for when his thoughts were interrupted by the resounding voice of
 Mr. Wilson.

 "Well child, I for one am willing to give that cake some lovin’! I want my piece right now!"

"You got it, Daddy, and you don’t have to tell me. I know. Extra, extra icing!" She winked at her father
who, in turn winked at Buck.

 "She knows me entirely too well."

 Buck was still laughing with William when he noticed the pile of plates wavering in Lilah’s arms.

"Here, let me help you with those. The least I can do is help with the dishes after the fine meal you fed
me."

 "I’d appreciate that, Buck. A lot!"

 William watched approvingly as Buck took the dishes from Lilah’s arms. It seemed to be a very nice
 man that his Lilah was sweet on. The thought both pleased and weighed on him. He didn’t want to
 look, and bear the torment of seeing his baby was a woman. It just wasn’t possible. She was still his
 baby. She always would be. 

 His thoughts shifted focus when the dish-toting duo had exited the establishment’s huge dining room
 into the kitchen. Who would want to hurt Lilah? Why would anyone want to hurt her? They had only
 lived in town for a few weeks, and Lilah was a very nice girl, besides. He didn’t know of any one they
 had met in Rock Creek who would have reason to dislike her, let alone try to kill her. He lounged in his chair, his heart heavy, wishing he had a clue as to how to protect her.

 Buck gently placed his half of the soiled china into the dishwater, and reached for Lilah’s. As he did,
 his fingers nudged her arm. The sharp intake of breath told him something was wrong.

 "What is it?"

 "Oh, it’s nothing. Just a hazard of being a cook." She folded both her arms around her waist, intent on
 forgetting her stupidity. The oven is hot, Lilah, she thought acidly to herself.

"What is? Let me see." He ignored her protests, and pulled at her elbow to free her arm. He undid 
the buttons of her sleeve cuff on her left arm, and delicately slid the fabric back. An angry red blister
glared defiantly back at him.

 "That looks terrible. How did you do that?"

 "Oh." She feigned an innocent face. "Did you know that ovens are hot?"

 "When did it happen?"

"Taking the lasagna out." She stared at his hands. He had yet to remove them from her arm. She
decided she didn’t want him to. His hands were warm, and distinctly comforting. She could no longer
feel the pain of her burn. All she could sense was she extreme care with which Buck held her arm, and
the intoxicating pull of his nearness. Damn if he wasn’t handsome, Lilah reflected, as she tugged on 
her bottom lip with her teeth.

 "This needs lookin’ at. You should go see the doctor tomorrow."

 "Can’t. I have a town to feed."

 "Surely you can take a day off?"

 "Nope." She pulled her arm away, effectively ending the conversation.

 "How did you manage that?"

 "You’re being redundant, Buck. You’ve already asked that question."

 "I just can’t figure out how someone who spends so much time in a kitchen would be so careless
 around a hot oven."

 She blew out a deep breath. "Does it matter?"

 "Yes," he insisted. She stared at the floor for what seemed like forever, and then she met Buck’s eyes.

 "My hands haven’t stopped shaking yet." She opened her mouth again, but thought better of it. She
 pressed her lips together, and rolled her hypnotic black eyes. 

 "It’s worse in the kitchen."

 Buck noticed the red tinge of the floor. Though the wine was long gone, the red stain of it was still a
 very obvious reminder of her harrowing morning.

 "It looks like blood." She added quietly. "It was supposed to be my blood." 

 He was at a loss. He had no idea how to fix it, as it was ingrained in him to do. He felt like he was
 letting her down because he couldn’t turn her life into an effortless, sparkling fairytale.

 "You need to see a doctor, and you could likely use some time off."

 "I can’t Buck. I really can’t. Do you still want some cake?" 

 He stood back, glaring at her. Lilah Wilson had a stubborn streak in her the likes of which even Lou
 would never measure up to. He couldn’t decide whether to shake some reason into her, or kiss her
 senseless. The latter sounded better, of course, but now was not the time.

The restaurant was teaming with hungry people, and Lilah’s arm ached all the more violently with
every table she served. The only thing that sustained her were thoughts of Buck. She was wondering 
if  she’d ever see him again. He really had no reason to come by. She pursed her lips at the thought. That just wouldn’t do. Maybe she could talk her father into buying a horse from him. That way at least she could see him one more time. She thought about it a little more, and decided that that would never do either. She wondered how he would take it if she came to call on him! She muffled her fit of giggles
with a hand, and tried to look shocked at a customer’s complaint of cold food. It was going to be a very
long day.

 Buck held yet another blue shirt up to his chest in the mirror. No, that wouldn’t work either. He
 dumped it on the bed along with the other rejects. He was down to a hideous sweater that Lou had
 crocheted for him last winter, and a chest plate made of cougar ribs that had been a gift from his
 brother. With a mumbled curse, he threw himself on the bed. 

 "I’m being ridiculous." He told the ceiling, sullenly. 

He closed his eyes, groped for a shirt, and swore he’d wear the one he found. He sat up, yanking his
find from the mountain of shirts, and wrinkled his nose at it. Shoving his arms into the sleeves, he 
made a mental list of all the herbs he needed to gather before he made his trip to town. That done, he headed out the door.

 Shadows danced, shifted, and slithered dark patterns over the room. The dim glow of the oil lamp did
 little to dispel them. Lilah glanced idly at her burned arm. The tinted glass of her lamp made her skin
 appear unnaturally pink. She watched the shadows shifting languidly over the walls of her new home.
 The loft was spacious, open, and hot. It was located directly over the restaurant, and it seemed to
absorb the heat from the downstairs kitchen. Luckily, her room was the coolest, located to the far right
 of the building, directly opposing the kitchen. Lilah slumped in her chair. She dropped her pink arm to
 stare out of her window. A deep frown clung resolutely to her face. She had hoped that Buck would
 stop by during the day. After all, if he had any inclination to pay a call, he knew where she would be.
 She supposed that he hadn’t felt what she had felt the day before. Sparks. She had felt millions of
 tingling sparks, racing over her skin, through her veins, and over her scalp, making her hair stand up
 from her head. She had never felt a pull toward any man in her life. She known nice men who were
 suitable companions for outings and the like, but none of them had that magnetism that Buck wielded so easily. She felt like a hapless moth being called, unable to protest, to a bright and glorious flame. 

Mr. Wilson gritted his teeth. "Yes, sir. I know your soup is cold. As I have all ready explained." He
intoned slowly, as if talking to a particularly dull child. "It is supposed to be cold. That’s why the menu
says, ‘Chilled cucumber soup.’" William was quickly losing his patience. The short-tempered, 
illiterate, hillbilly had begun his tirade about cold soup immediately after asking him where the 
redhead with the "big ones" was. William had to fight the impulse to eviscerate the ingrate with his butter knife. 

 "I don’ wont no cold soup! I ain’t payin’ fer no cold food, mister!"

 "Perhaps you would like it heated?"

 "What, are ya stupid? O’course I wont it hot!"

William took the bowl, graciously informing the customer that it would be out shortly. As he turned, he
saw Buck Cross, standing in the doorway, scanning the room. Ah, yes. He’d seen that coming. He’d
been about to call out to the young man, when he was spotted. Long, sure strides carried Buck to him.

 "Mr. Cross." He smiled politely.

 "Good evenin’, Mr. Wilson."

"I assume you’re looking for my daughter." William squelched the smirk that sprang on him at the fiery blush that dominated young Mr. Cross’s face.

 "Uh…um…y-yes, sir."

 "She’s upstairs. Just go to the back of the restaurant, and you’ll see stairs running up the back of the
 building. Follow those, and you’ll be at our front door."

 "Thank you. Oh, and it’s Buck."

 "Well, then I insist that you call me Will."

 "Thank you sir."

 "Will."

 "Sorry, thank you, Will." 

 Will reached out to shake Buck’s hand, when he was interrupted by the soup fundamentalist.

 "You let half-breeds in here?"

"Is it not presumable that if I let miscreants like you into the establishment, that literate, freshly bathed men may enter as well?"

 "Huh?"

"If you have a problem with my business practices, you are more than welcome to pay, and leave." Will
over enunciated every word, hoping that he wouldn’t have to repeat himself.

 "Whadda ‘spect me to pay fer? Cold soup I ain’t even got to eat yet?"

 "As a matter of fact, yes." William intoned without batting an eye. "Stupidity is not grounds for a
 complimentary meal."

 "I’m leavin’!"

 "Not without paying, you aren’t."

 "I cain’t believe you ‘spect decent folk to have a meal with a dirty half-breed."

 "I wouldn’t categorize you as decent folk, sir. I would, however say exactly that of Mr. Cross here." 

Buck wasn’t sure what to say. Furious, pained, and fundamentally humiliated, Buck wished with
everything that was in him that Mr. Wilson had not been privy to the woes of being who he was. He
was a little surprised at the older man’s reaction, and even a little angry about it. He could take care 
of himself. Besides, he heard things like that all the time, and he was certain he would continue to. He did know, though, where Lilah got her fire. She most definitely came by it honestly.

 "Buck, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be turning Backwoods Bob here upside down to empty his pockets.
 Perhaps I’ll see you later tonight?"

 "I was planning on staying until you got home. I don’t think she should be left alone."

 "I thought the Marshal had deputies watching her."

 "He does, I just thought it would be better if she wasn’t alone."

 "I appreciate that, Buck. I hope you can calm her nerves. She was up all night last night, pacing."

 "I’ll try." With that, Buck headed to Lilah.
 

Chapter 5

The sounds of an approaching thunderstorm were lulling Lilah to sleep. The clouds of the impending
storm had squeezed the last vestiges of light from the day leaving her room in near darkness. The only
light in the room shone weakly from the lamp on her writing table. She sat curled up in her favorite
chair with The Odyssey in her lap. Today, Odysseus held no allure, for her. Ignoring the book, she
closed her eyes. The boom of distant thunder seemed to seep into her tight and weary muscles, coaxing them into submission. She was in a state between dreamy disjointed thoughts, and wakeful ones. She was floating on the tide, rocking gently toward the sleep she so desperately needed. The knock at the door jolted her from her chair. Her book fell from her lap, only to imbed its sharp corner into her foot. She cursed it thoroughly as she hobbled to the door.

 A vaguely familiar shape filled the doorway. It was tall, broad of shoulder, and topped off with a worn
 black hat.

 "Buck!" She stood there with her mouth agape. She had no idea what to say. She was pleased beyond
 reason to see him, but her mouth didn’t seem to want to work out the words to tell him that.

 A knight in leather armor, Buck came to her rescue. "I brought something for you." He held a small
 leather pouch out to her. She grinned lamely at him, unmoving.

 "Uhm, do you think I could come in?" He asked, hoping her reticence to invite him in was not due to
 fear, or sudden dislike.

 "Oh! Oh, I’m sorry, Buck. Please do come in. May I get you something? Some tea, or some cake?"

 "No thanks. My pants are still too tight from the last piece you sent home."

"Oh, well they look fine to me." She gave him her best saucy grin, and added a wink for good measure.
She led him through the sitting room, deciding that the room was far too hot to keep guests in. When
they entered her sprawling bedroom, she gestured toward one of four chairs crowded around her
writing table. "Do you want to sit down?"

 Buck was still at a loss. Lilah never minced words. The thought brought a smile to his face. Whatever
 it was she had on her mind came directly out of her mouth. What was more, she was completely
 unapologetic about it. She certainly knew how to keep a man on his toes. He was still smiling when he
 realized that she’d asked him a question.

 "I’m sorry. What?"

 "Do you want to sit down?"

"Well, I have this for you." He indicated the pouch still dangling in between his fingers. "I’d like to 
get it on as soon as possible."

 "Pardon?"

 "The salve."

 "That’s salve?"

 "Yes, for your arm."

 "Oh!" She didn’t quite know what else to say.

 "I made it this morning. It’s very good for burns."

 "What’s it made of?"

 "You don’t want to know." Buck grinned at her, and was pleased to find Lilah trustingly holding her
 arm out for him to apply the treatment. He noticed that she had on short sleeves.

 "Has it been bothering you today?"

 "Only when I put a hot plate on it."

 "Lilah." Buck stared at her hard.

 "Yes mommy?" She feigned her most innocent look. 

 He swallowed his comment. She’d obviously put on short sleeves after work because of the pain her
 sleeve was causing her. After all, women did not go about town in short sleeves, especially not
 respectable women like Lilah.

"Here, let me put it on you." He went to her, and took hold of her proffered arm by placing one hand
underneath it so that she could just rest the slender limb in his palm. He scooped a liberal amount of
pasty gray goo out of the pouch with his first two fingers, and started rubbing the balm on her burn 
with the infinite care a mother would take with her infant. 

Lilah didn’t understand how such a roughly fashioned man could be so impossibly gentle. After all, he
looked to be chiseled from granite. He was an irresistible combination of sinew, sweet smile, and
tranquilizing brown eyes. Oh no! The thought hit without warning…she was falling for him. A virtual
stranger and she could think of nothing but him. She gazed back into his face. Hypnotic eyes met hers.
She still knew it was insane to start falling so hard so fast, but one look into those eyes, and she didn’t
care any longer.

 The concoction he was slathering on her arm stank horribly. She wrinkled her nose. Buck saw her
 face, and immediately pulled his medicated hand away.

 "Am I hurting you?"

 "No. It’s soothing actually. It’s already loosing some of its sting."

 "Then why the face."

 "It stinks."

 "It should, it has coyote dung in it." The look of horror on her face almost made him keel over with
 laughter.

"You’re putting coyote dung on my arm?" Her words were steadily rising in pitch, but she didn’t make
a move to reclaim her arm.

 "Nope. It just sounded good." 

 Her eyes went wide, and she poked him in the stomach with her healthy arm, which turned out to be a
 bad idea. His abdomen felt like it was made of stone.

 "I should turn you over my knee for that one!" She teased. 

 One thin black brow lifted haughtily. "Promise?" 

She couldn’t help herself. A fit of giggles burst out of her. She leaned into him with her right side while
he continued to hold her left arm. 

He was too close to her. His senses were rioting. The feel of her skin beneath the hand he used to
support her arm as he applied his homemade remedy, the way she seemed to glow in the lamp light, 
the way her breathing quickened as soon as he touched her, the way she smelled good enough to eat, were all killing his concentration. He was trying not to hurt her, but he couldn’t keep his thoughts trained on her burn. To make matters invariably worse, he was in her room. He felt cocooned in the warm, sweet smelling, tidy environment she’d made for herself. He felt so good to be ensconced in what essentially was her space, but he also felt like an interloper. Buck started as footsteps sounded 
in the next room. He watched Lilah roll her beautiful black eyes.

"Daddy must not trust me to be a good girl." She gave him a lopsided grin, and went to meet her father. He wasn’t sure whether or not to show himself. He belatedly realized the assumptions a father might make of a man being without a chaperone with his daughter in her bedroom. He was trying to come up with an explanation for Will when the crash of shattering glass rang in his ears. The next 
room was enveloped in darkness. The meager light from Lilah’s bedroom lamp was swallowed almost completely by the hungry void. He lunged toward the noise.

"Lilah! Lilah, are you okay?" He called, blindly searching for her in the blackened room. He decided
that the crash must have been the lantern that previously lit the room, but that knowledge did nothing to help him find Lilah, or tell him why she wasn’t answering him.

 The shock of pain reverberated down his spine. The base of his skull exploded in agony. His vision
 blurred, growing dim at the edges. He seized his waning consciousness. Swinging around, he caught a
 shadow racing from the loft. He made a winding stumbling dash to catch it, but it was still a battle just
 to remain upright. Anger crowded out the pain from his injuries. He’d lost his quarry. Because of his
 inattention, and his weakness, there was still a threat to Lilah. If he’d been paying attention, he would
 have made certain that she locked the door directly behind him.

 "Lilah," he called again. Still, not a sound was made. He lurched to her bedroom where a lantern was
 still aglow. It could be seen casting dim shadows beneath the door to her room. Had he closed it? He
 made an effort to shake off the waves of dizziness that assaulted him. Taking the lamp, he made his
 way back through the loft. He idly stepped over a pile of rags, when the sickening realization cleared
 the fog from his aching head. It was Lilah crumpled on the floor. Placing the lamp on the ground, he
 dropped to his knees, pushing her hair out of her face. He let out a string of curses any outlaw would
 be proud of when he noticed that Lilah’s blood covered his hands. The bad situation was compounded
 by the fact that he was kneeling in a sphere of broken glass. With shaking hands, Buck put all of his
 effort into lifting Lilah out of the glass shards. Terror zinged through his veins. She wasn’t making any
 noise at all, nor was she moving. With Lilah still in his arms, he managed his way tough the inky
 blackness, back to her room. He located her bed when he rammed his shin into the side of it, and
settled her gently on it. He then ran back for the lamp. The fact that he was wet with her blood sent his
 stomach into his throat. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as he was thinking. Maybe it was lamp oil that he was
 covered in. He tried to embrace that thought, but the sharp tang of blood filled his nostrils. Absently, he thanked the gods that at least she hadn’t caught fire when she’d been attacked with the lamp. 

 Buck carefully held the pink lantern over Lilah’s face, as he peeled blood soaked clumps of hair from
 her face. His stomach twisted at the grotesque way the pink tinting of the lamp made her look as if
she’d bathed in blood, letting it stain her skin with its sickening hue. He was looking for the source of
 the blood in hopes that he could staunch the flow. He felt around her face. It was useless. Blood was
everywhere. He tugged his shirt out of his pants, and started wiping at her face, trying to find the point
 of injury. He spared a glance at Lilah’s face. "Oh, no," he mumbled. "Help! Somebody, please help!" 

Her face was ashen underneath its sticky red covering. Even in the pink light, he could tell that she was deathly pale. The last time he’d seen skin that color was right before Ike died. Shaking, and incoherent, he started screaming her name. She made no response. There was a thick and eerie silence in the room. Buck strained to hear her breathing. He lifted her sodden head into his lap, searching out some sign of life. He was trying so hard to concentrate on her that the pitch cloak dropped over him unannounced.

 Lilah Wilson’s room, the floor bathed in the blood of its two occupants, was silent. Buck and Lilah lay
 in a limp ragged pile as death stretched its arms toward its quarry. Lilah Wilson wasn’t breathing.