Frank smiled as he heaved Conrad Browning to his feet. 'A sour pickle ... that's a very interesting way of putting it.'
'Mrs. Browning's carriage just pulled up at the rear,' a man said.
Frank plopped Conrad down in a chair and turned to make his exit -- too late. The door to the rear office opened and Vivian stood there.
She recognized Frank instantly and gasped, leaning against the doorjamb for a moment.
Conrad broke the spell by blurting, 'Mother, I have been assaulted by a hoodlum. I am injured.'
'Oh, horsecrap!' Frank said.
--------
*Seven*
Frank and Vivian stood for several silent seconds, staring at each other, before Frank took off his hat and said, 'Ma'am. Your son is not hurt much. He just grabbed hold of a mite more than he could handle, that's all.'
'It was not a fair contest,' Conrad objected. 'That thug struck me before I was ready.'
'What thug?' Vivian asked.
'Mr. Owens,' one of the office workers said. 'He was in here again about his money.'
'The man I spoke with yesterday?' Vivian asked.
'Yes, ma'am.'
'Did you give him his money, as I instructed?'
'Ah ... no, ma'am. We didn't.'
'I told them not to pay him,' Conrad said. 'He was adequately compensated for the work he performed.'
Vivian closed her eyes just for the briefest second and shook her head. 'Conrad, you go see Dr. Bracken. Your jaw is bruised and swelling a bit.'
'Mother -- '
'Now!'
'Yes, Mother.'
'I'm pretty sure it isn't broken, ma'am,' Frank said. 'Just get some horse liniment and rub it on the sore spot. That'll take care of it.'
'Horse liniment?' Conrad blurted. 'I think not. I'll be back in a few minutes, Mother.' He left the middle office, walking gingerly, rubbing his butt, which was probably bruised from impacting with the floor.
Outside, the excited shouting was still going on.
'A new strike, Mrs. Browning?' a bookkeeper asked.
'Yes. A big one. We'll be hiring again. And we need Mr. Owens. If he comes back in, pay him for the days he missed while hurt and put him back to work.'
'Yes, ma'am.'
'I'll probably see him around town, ma'am,' Frank said. 'I'll tell him to check back here.'
'Thank you, Marshal. Would you please step into my office? I'd like to speak with you for a moment.'
'Certainly, ma'am.'
In the office, behind a closed door, Vivian grasped Frank's hands and held them for seconds. Finally she pulled back and sat down in one of several chairs in front of her desk. Frank sat down in the chair next to her.
'It's been a long time, Frank.'
'Almost eighteen years.'
'You know my father is dead?'
'I heard.'
'Frank, I want you to know something. I knew within days that my father made up all those charges he was holding over you back in Denver. I also knew that you left to protect me -- '
'Water under the bridge, Viv. It's long over.'
'No. Let me finish. I did some checking of my own, and found out father had paid those detectives to falsify charges against you. I confronted him with that knowledge. At first he denied it. Then, finally, he admitted what he'd done. He hated you until the day he closed his eyes forever. He threatened to cut me off financially if I didn't do his bidding. I didn't really have much choice in the matter. Or, more truthfully, I thought I didn't have a choice. When I finally realized father was bluffing, it was too late. You were gone without a trace, and I was pregnant.'
That shook Frank right down to his spurs. He stared at Vivian for a long moment. 'Are you telling me that ... Conrad is my son?'
'Yes.'
Frank had almost blurted out, _You mean to tell me that prissy, arrogant little turd is my son?_ But he curbed his tongue at the last possible second. He stared at Viv until he was sure he could speak without betraying his totally mixed emotions. 'Did the man you married know this?'
