him away. As Ray was pulled away, the crowd began to disperse.
“Did you ever think anyone could handle Ray like that?” someone asked.
“Hell, look at Falcon. His hair ain’t even none messed up,” another said.
Falcon followed them outside, and saw Cletus and Billy put Ray belly-down across the saddle.
“Billy, you can come on back in,” Falcon told him.
Billy shook his head. “No, sir, I can’t,” he said. “These are my brothers. I’d better stay with them.” Then, leading Ray’s horse, Billy and Cletus rode away.
Inside, the music had yet to start up again.
“I’m sorry about that,” Falcon said, returning to Rachael Kirby.
Rachael was standing in front of the orchestra, talking to Edwin Mathias.
“Is that how all disputes are settled out here?” Edwin asked. “With an approach like that, it is no wonder this is called the ‘wild’ West.”
“I didn’t have much of a choice,” Falcon replied. “It was either stand there and fight, or get hit. I chose to fight.”
“And you like it out here, do you, my dear?” Edwin said to Rachael.
“Yes,” Rachael replied, “I do like it.”
“Maestro, more music!” someone called.
Edwin sighed. “If you will excuse me, I must jump through some hoops now.”
“Mr. Mathias seems to be a bitter man,” Falcon said.
“Edwin Mathias had a taste of glory once,” Rachael replied. “It is always difficult when one falls from glory.”
When the music started, Rachael smiled and offered Falcon her arm. Falcon joined her on the dance floor.
After the dance, Falcon escorted Rachael away from the dance floor. He had just said something funny and they were both laughing when they looked up to see the stern, staring, angry eyes of Wade Garrison confronting his daughter.
“Is it true that you took a walk with Billy Clinton?”
“Pa, it isn’t what you think,” Kathleen said.
“Oh? And tell me, daughter, just what am I thinking?” Garrison replied.
“That we did something wrong,” she answered.
“You went for an evening walk with him, did you not? Without a chaperone?”
“Yes.”
“Then don’t tell me you weren’t doing anything wrong. I wouldn’t approve of that kind of behavior no matter who you were with. But this is much worse. Kathleen, this man is the son of Ike Clinton. Ike Clinton is our sworn enemy, you know that.”
“Billy isn’t like the others.”
“Darlin’, Billy is a Clinton,” Garrison said. “When it gets right down to it, it always comes out the same. He is a Clinton.”
“I love him, Papa.”
“What? What did you say?”
“I said I love him.”
“No, that can’t be.”
“Papa, I can’t help it. This isn’t something I can just turn on and off.”
“Let him go, child, let him go,” General Garrison said gently, putting her hand on her shoulder.
“It’s not fair, Papa,” Kathleen said. “It’s just not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair, darlin’,” Garrison replied. “It never was, and it never will be fair.”
Chapter Seventeen
From the
DISRUPTION AT DANCE!
Saturday night last, nearly everyone in town repaired to the Morning Star Hotel for the fifth annual Higbee dance. The music was provided by a group of musicians headed by Edwin Mathias, who is regarded by many as the finest fiddle player in America. Beautifully decorated, the reception hall of the Morning Star Hotel was an ideal place for the festivities, and the dance was proceeding with high spirits and merriment.
But such was not to be for very long, for the Clinton brothers, Ray and Cletus, in keeping with their nature of troublemakers, did institute a fight.
Alas, the brothers Clinton did not consider the consequences of their plan, for the man with whom they picked the fight was none other than Falcon MacCallister. Having attended the dance, this reporter was there to witness
