She ignores Humby's greeting and stands her ground watching them ride up. Logan realizes that she's looking at him rather than at Humby.
'You disappoint me Mr. Tanner. I thought you were an honest man,' She says.
She looks disappointed. Hardly surprising after their conversation this morning. It would have been so much simpler if he hadn't said anything. He can't think of a good way to explain so decides to feign confusion.
'I don't understand,' he says, staying in his uncomfortable saddle while Humby dismounts.
'Do you want me to spell it out for you? You lied to me this morning and then you have the cheek to come here with him,' she points at Humby, 'and rub my face in it.'
'This morning?' Humby asks, looking at Logan with a raised eyebrow.
'Shut up, I'm not talking to you,' she says.
She looks attractive when she's angry. This might not be going as well as he'd hoped but he does seem to be doing slightly better than Humby.
'Well?' she says, turning back to him, 'Do you have nothing to say for yourself?'
'It's a little more complicated --'
'Complicated? My life is complicated enough without needing to worry about your complications. You're just as bad as all the others. All of this has just been an elaborate ruse to spy on me hasn't it?'
What can he say? He wants to explain all the details, the business with the dynamite in the cabin and the veiled threats from the sheriff but with Humby and Wilson standing there he can't go into all that. She's probably not in the mood to believe him anyway.
'You misjudge me, Miss Nixon,' he says, floundering to find the words to placate her, 'the sheriff asked me --'
'Don't bring him into this. You've gone too far now. I don't want to have anything more to do with you.'
She turns on her heel and stomps back to the house. Humby follows meekly behind her.
That stings. They'd got on so well before. More than a little of his reluctance to leave Walkers Creek sooner was the thought of not seeing her again. He thought he was finished with her when he heard that she was Humby's girl but now he knows he still thought he had a chance. To be greeted like this, well, it does kind of put a lid on it. He has to forget about her. Perhaps he should just turn his horse and ride away. It would take the others time to remount and give chase. But they would give chase. He could do with a bigger headstart than that. He ties his horse to the end of the hitching rail closest to the road out with the thought of making a quick exit if necessary.
Wilson signals to him that they should follow Humby and Miss Nixon into the house.
'I said I don't wish to discuss it Mr. Tanner. Stop following me about,' she says angrily.
'Never mind him, he's a nobody, a guard, a trained animal. You should be more cheerful that the Mayor has come to make love to you.'
'Oh, be quiet you pompous fool. I'm not impressed with your money or your status, and pretending to want to marry me isn't going to make me more likely to sell my ranch to you. Take a good look at it all, you'll never own it, not while I'm alive.'
'I know you don't mean that. Why don't we sit down and take a drink together and talk it over.' With that Humby turns and ushers Wilson and Logan from the room.
Wilson heads through one door. Seizing the opportunity to separate, Logan takes a different door.
He hoped to choose a door that led outside, but his sense of direction has failed him and he finds himself in a corridor. So this isn't the escape from Wilson he was hoping for. If anything he's more trapped than ever.
A girl steps out of one of the rooms carrying a basket with crumpled linen in it. She has backed out of the room and is carefully closing the door. She turns and notices Logan standing there in the corridor and lets out a little shriek, dropping the basket.
'Sorry Miss, I didn't mean to startle you. Let me help you with that.'
She scrabbles quickly at the basket, gathering back its contents. He notices that the linen is stained with blood.
'What are you doing here.' She hisses. 'She said there would be no deputies in the house.'
'You mean this?' he points at the little badge the Sheriff gave him. 'That's not what it looks like. I mean, I'm not a real deputy, or rather, I'm am a deputy but I'm not...'
'I don't care. Just leave him alone. He hasn't done nothing that you can pin on him. Take me instead. Take me.' Tears stream down her cheeks.
'Leave who alone?'
He can make no sense of her replies. She's definitely frightened of something, and his deputy badge seems to have a lot to do with it.
'You're not making any sense. You should take care where you go with those sheets. Humby is back there with Miss Nixon and there's a real deputy wandering about somewhere who might be a bit more interested in your story than I am.'
She doesn't move from her crouch on the floor but continues to plead incoherently with him.
'What's through there?' he asks, pointing at the door she has just closed.
She sobs. He pushes past her and throws the door open.
A figure lies sleeping in a bed tucked against the wall. A window opens onto the area behind the house where a handful of horses stand idly in a corral. He heads to the window, one hand resting on the holstered gun at his side. The sleeping figure groans but doesn't move.
Logan stands by the side of the window looking out, keeping the bed in front of him. This feels like a trap. A man feigning sleep under a blanket with a gun concealed under there, he's seen that before. Is he really asleep? Why was the girl outside so anxious that he shouldn't see this? Does she know that this is a trap?
The sleeping man coughs. Nervous, Logan draws his gun. There is a gasp from the doorway. The girl has followed him into the room and is standing there gaping at the weapon.
'Don't shoot him, please.' She whispers.
He points the gun at the floor but keeps it in his hand. He glances out of the window. It all looks so tranquil, the horses moving lazily in the hot sun.
A fly buzzes slowly across the room. The girl is still watching him intently. Or rather, watching the gun.
'Is he asleep?' He asks her. The answer seems obvious but he hopes to see from her reaction a clue, to see if this really is a trap.
She nods. It's a slight movement, nothing more. A tear drips unnoticed from her cheek. She is still watching the gun.
'Is he badly hurt?'
She nods again, then a look of puzzlement comes across her face.
'It's obvious.' He says, in answer to her unspoken question. 'He's asleep in the middle of the day, his sheets have blood on them.'
She looks at the sheets in the basket still clutched to her.
'Don't wake him.' She says.
'I hope not to.'
He glances out of the window again. Wilson! He throws himself back against the wall and out of sight. Cautiously he peers round and sees Wilson patrolling round the house. Gun drawn, he is pacing steadily round. That's a man who takes his job far too seriously. Or maybe he knows what happened to the missing deputy and that's why he's so nervous.
'Who is he?' The girl asks, having moved slowly closer to the window to see what had caused Logan so much alarm.
'A deputy.'
'But you're a deputy too. Why are you hiding from him?'
'I'm not really a deputy. And I could ask you the same question. You didn't seem too pleased to see my badge earlier.'
'I thought you'd come to get him.'
'He got hurt in some trouble that would interest a deputy did he? Never mind. It's not important. I've not come to get anyone. Nor has Wilson as far as I know. We're supposed to be protecting Humby.'
