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Thorn gave a humorless laugh and shook his head. "When I first occupied the land on which my inn stands, I was not exactly welcomed, either by Indians or by the soldiers at the fort." He seemed to hesitate, then continued, so low that he seemed to speak almost to himself. "But there were reasons other than my scoffing at the law for the latter to be less than pleased." |
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The wince of pain that crossed his face was replaced immediately by his usual cool expression. Mariah knew, from the screenplay and René, a bit of what had caused him such grief. Being here, so close to the fort, must have triggered some of his worst memories. She reached toward him, almost touching his arm in comfort, but stopped herself. He'd not welcome any such gesture, particularly here, with others around. |
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Others. Would someone in this crowded store be the one to challenge Thorn to a duel? Not Francis, surely, or roly-poly Allen, but what about those two burly men in fur hats who looked like trappers? Francis's companions? The soldiers . . . the soldier. One of the two wasn't there any longerthe nasty-looking young man who'd been with Maitland. |
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She turned to Francis, asking in a low voice, "Have you met anyone here named Billy?" |
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He looked at her quizzically. "No, but I shall ask around to see if any of my fellows knows of a Billy. Is it important?" |
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"Sort of." She didn't want to admit how vital it could be, so she changed the subject. "But more important, I've come here for some cloth for Holly and me." |
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"Please allow me to show you where to find it," Francis said. Mariah looked at him in surprise. "I have hired my services to the proprietor temporarily," he explained with a wry grin. Taking her arm, he led her toward a comer of the store. "The soldiers,'' he whispered conspiratorially, "might be led to believe we are sincere about remaining in this town. But once they let down their guard . . . " |
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He did not have to finish. Mariah knew from the faraway look in his eyes that the lure of the west was too strong to |
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