"La dee da," Jimmy muttered, looking around him as they were led into the dining room.
"Don't knock nothin' over, you clumsy ox," Hal told his partner. "And don't touch nothin', neither."
"Speak for yourself, you jumpy moose," Jimmy responded.
Vivian rose from the longest table Frank had ever seen outside of a banquet hall. The chandelier over the table must have cost a fortune. Its glow made the room as bright as day. Vivian smiled and said, "Marshal Morgan."
"Evening, ma'am," Frank said, taking off his hat. "We're sorry to disturb you, but something came up I thought you ought to know about. This is Hal and Jimmy."
"How do you do, gentlemen?"
"Fair to middlin', ma'am," Hal said.
"OK, I reckon, ma'am," Jimmy told her. "Shore is a nice place you got here."
"Thank you. Would you gentlemen like something to eat, or some coffee?"
"Coffee would hit the spot," Hal said, ignoring the dirty look he was getting from Frank.
Viv picked up a little silver bell from the table and shook it. A servant appeared almost instantly. "Coffee for the gentlemen, please, Marion."
"Yes, mum."
"Sit down, please," Viv said. "Do make yourselves comfortable." She looked at Frank. "What is the matter of great urgency, Fra" -- she caught herself -- "Marshal?"
"Yes," Conrad said, entering the dining room and sitting down. "Do enlighten us."
Frank resisted an impulse to slap the snot out of Conrad. "Jimmy and Hal here are going to be your bodyguards for as long as you stay in this area, Vi" -- Damn, but it was catching -- "Mrs. Browning."
"Oh?" Vivian said, staring at Frank. "Don't you think I should have something to say about that? And what makes you think I want or need bodyguards?"
"Yes. And I must say I quite resent your coming in here and giving orders. I am perfectly capable of looking after my mother," Conrad said haughtily.
"Shut up, boy!" Frank told him. "You couldn't look after a lost calf."
Conrad's mouth dropped open, and he started sputtering and stuttering.
"Close your mouth," Frank said, "before you swallow a fly." He turned his gaze to Vivian. "I just shot three men tonight, Mrs. Browning. Killed one, and wounded the other two. They were planning to kidnap you."
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*Nine*
Terms of employment were quickly agreed to, and Frank stayed with Vivian while Hal and Jimmy returned to the hotel to get their belongings. Vivian wanted them to stay in the house, but both gunhands shook their heads at that suggestion. They would stay in the carriage house, behind the main house.
Conrad, his feathers ruffled by Frank's blunt comments concerning his ability to protect his mother, stalked off to bed, leaving Frank and Vivian alone in the dining room. The candles and lanterns had been trimmed, leaving the room in very subdued light.
"If you had not heard I was having trouble shipping the silver -- " Viv said. She shook her head. "I shudder to think what would have happened had you not been here."
"Well, I'm here, Viv. And Hal and Jimmy are good men. They'll get some wires off in the morning to some friends of theirs, and before you know it your silver will be safely shipped. Hal and Jimmy will design the wagons, and they'll be built right here in town. Until Vanbergen and Pine are taken care of, Hal and Jimmy will be your shadows, around the clock."
"And you, Frank?"
"I'll be around -- you can bet on that. You couldn't run me off if you tried."
She touched his hand. "I'm counting on that."
"You've got it."
"Hal and Jimmy are certainly ... well, capable looking. I have to admit that."
"They're both tough as wang leather. They're not the prettiest pair in the world, but they're one hundred percent loyal. They ride for the brand, Viv. And they're quick on the shoot. They'll stick no matter what."
"Why doesn't the law do something about this gang, or gangs, I should say?"
"You were living back east a long time, Viv. You've forgotten this is the West. It's slowly being tamed, but its still pretty much wild and wooly and full of fleas. There isn't much law out here, not in most places. And it'll be some time before there is."
"I suppose so."
"I taught you how to shoot, Viv. Do you still have a pistol?"
"No. My husband didn't like guns."
"Can Conrad use a gun?"
"No. He doesn't like guns either."
Frank shook his head. "Maybe that's for the best. He'd probably brace somebody and get himself shot."
"He's lonely, Frank. That's his biggest problem. And I don't know what to do about that."
"He wouldn't be, Viv, if he wasn't such a stuck-up fussbucket."
Vivian tried her best to look offended at that, but couldn't quite pull it off. She gave up, and with a half-smile said, "He just doesn't fit in out here, Frank. I don't believe he ever will."
"Some folks never do. But those that can't are the folks who want someone else to do for them. You were raised out here, Viv. You know all this."
"The settled East is an ideal place to forget all that," she said gently.
"I guess so. Don't know much about the east. Never wanted to go there." Frank fiddled around with his empty coffee cup for a few seconds.
"More coffee, Frank?"
"No. thanks. This will do me. Soon as the boys get back I've got to start making my night rounds and check on the wounded at the jail."
"What will happen to those men?"
"They'll be held here for trial. I'll be checking dodgers to see if they're wanted anywhere else ... and I'm sure they are."
"What if their gang tries to break them out?"
"I'll do my best to prevent that."
"You're just one man, Frank. The combined strength of those gangs, so I'm told, can be as high as forty."
Frank shrugged his shoulders. "I can't help that. I was hired to enforce the law and keep the peace. I intend to do just that."
The gate bell rang, and Marion went outside to let Hal and Jimmy in. Frank stood up. "I'll see you tomorrow, Viv. About midmorning, for coffee."
Frank stood outside the Browning estate for a moment and rolled and smoked a cigarette, then strolled up the boardwalk and stepped inside the Red Horse Saloon for a look around. It was noisy and rowdy, but that was a joyful sound. There were a few sour expressions at the sight of Frank, but that was to be expected whenever a badge showed up at a party.
Frank looked around for a moment, then quietly left the saloon without speaking to anyone. He walked the business area of the town, checking the doors of the closed-for-the-night businesses, making sure they were all secure. He stopped in at the Silver Slipper Saloon and stayed only a couple of minutes before walking over to the jail and checking on his prisoners.
The men were all asleep -- the wounded ones in a laudanum-induced slumber. Frank quietly stepped back and closed and locked the heavy door leading to the cell area. He checked on his horses at the livery and then walked across the street to his rented house and went to bed. He had missed supper, but it wasn't the first time Frank Morgan had missed a meal -- nor, he suspected, would it be the last.
He went to sleep and dreamed about Vivian, frowning whenever Conrad entered his dreams. Frank felt no closeness or affection for the young man. He felt nothing, and his sleep became restless because of that. As the boy's father, shouldn't he feel some sort of blood bond, some sort of paternal sense or awakening ... something, anything?