"That's so, but I'm fine." She turned and glanced at her reflection in the mirror behind the bar. The skin around her left eye had drawn a little tight due to the swelling, and her temple bore a bruise, but her appearance was nothing compared to that of the girl scraping carrots in the kitchen right that moment.

The entire household had taken a liking to young Violet and had welcomed her into their protective midst.

Lily tucked in a loose strand of hair and smoothed her floral-print shirtwaist into the waistband of her dark-blue skirt. She ran upstairs for a bonnet and joined the men on their trip to the freight station.

As luck would have it, she entered the building to find the new sheriff conversing with Mitch Early, who stood behind the counter.

Mitch spotted her. "Afternoon, Miss Lily!"

"Hello, Mitch." And after a pause, "Sheriff."

The man in the dark trousers and cream-colored shirt turned to face her. The star on the front of his shirt winked in the sunlight streaming through the window. He was every bit as large and as intimidating as he'd been the night before. He'd had a recent shave and from the spot where Lily stopped, she could smell the bay rum. The scent curled around her senses in a manner she didn't like.

He touched the brim of his hat in deference to her presence. "Miss." Taking a couple of steps back, he gestured for her to approach the counter.

She glanced from his hand to his face. "Have you finished your business?"

"Yes. I'm waitin' for Mitch to have time to haul my belongings to the boardin' house."

She stepped past him.

Mitch pushed a piece of paper forward, and she picked up the invoice. "I'll bring this back after I look over the delivery."

She joined Jess and Big Saul in the rear of the station and stood in the back of the wagon, counting and arranging as they loaded crates of liquor. More than once she felt eyes on her, but resisted the urge to turn and see if the sheriff watched them.

Crates counted, she returned the list to Mitch and signed for the delivery.

"How's the head today?" the sheriff asked.

She focused her gaze on him, gauging his interest. "Hurts to the touch. I couldn't brush my hair on that side."

He studied her, his hazel-green gaze flickering over her hair. She resisted the urge to reach up and set to rights the ringlets that had fallen out of the knot.

"Brand still locked up?" she asked.

He nodded. "I spoke to a few of your regulars last night. Said they saw him grab you. Said he looked hoppin' mad and you took him out of doors to talk to him."

She nodded. "I told you that's what happened."

"Is Violet okay?"

"You saw her. What d'you think?"

"Doesn't matter what I think. Since you contacted the governor, matters what he thinks."

"Can you keep Brand locked up until we hear back?"

"Unless the judge comes first."

"The judge would let him go. And he'd make Violet go back with him. I've seen Judge Adams's justice."

"Nothin' I could do about that, you know."

Lily knew. And she knew she needed a plan to help Violet if she didn't hear from the governor or if he wouldn't help them.

"Good day, gentlemen."

"Bye, Miss Lily," Mitch called. "Give my regards to Celeste."

She joined the men who waited for her in front of the station and climbed up to ride with the crates in the wagon bed on the short trip back.

"Stop here," she called to Jess. He reined the horses to a stop and she hopped down in front of the mercantile. "I'll be along in a bit."

The wagon pulled away and she entered the store.

Lily made her way past barrels and counters and brooms and kegs until she came to the dry goods section. There she perused the bolts of fabric, looking for something suitable for Violet. She selected a white cotton sprigged with dainty purple flowers, a yellow check and a pale green sateen. After finding lace and buttons she liked, she carried her selections to the counter.

Blythe Shaw had seen her approach and had deliberately moved away to stand in the doorway to the back room. Blythe behaved as though she hadn't seen Lily.

"Mr. Shaw!" Lily called, unperturbed.

Howard had to step around his wife to heed Lily's call. The woman whispered something, and he cast his wife a frown but continued past.

"Afternoon, Miss Lily," he greeted her. "How many yards of each would you like?"

She told him and as he measured and cut, she said, "I've need of threads in these colors if you have some that match."

Howard turned to the enormous spool cabinet behind him and pulled out half a dozen colors.

He'd been helping Lily for years before Blythe had come to Thunder Canyon, and he'd always been friendly and polite. Lily did ample business in his store, buying supplies for her kitchen and ordering ready-made clothing and shoes from the catalogs.

Lily selected three spools. "Do you have a lady's hair brush and comb set? Also, I'd like three bottles of White Rose Face Wash, some shampoo paste and tooth powder." She followed Howard's motions as he searched the shelves and found the items she'd asked for. A bottle labeled Old Reliable Hair and Whisker Dye caught her attention. "One of those, too, please."

"Black or brown?"

"Black, please."

Without blinking an eye, Howard set the bottle with her other purchases and tallied them up. "On your account?" he asked.

"Do I have anything on it now?"

"No, you just paid last Thursday."

"Yes, that's fine, thank you."

"Thank you, Miss Lily. Would you like these things delivered?"

"I can carry them."

Howard wrapped her purchases in brown paper, then tied them with string, and she picked up the bundle. "Have a nice afternoon. You too, Mrs. Shaw!" she added.

Howard glanced toward the doorway. His wife had disappeared. The man met Lily's eyes in a wordless apology. Lily offered him a warm smile and turned to leave.

She had a mind to bring her girls and sing in front of the mercantile that very day, just to give Blythe a taste of her own medicine. They could load the piano on a wagon and have Isaac play. But Howard was a good man, and Lily would never do anything impolite to him. It was a nice image though, and the vision carried her across the street with a smile.

"Somethin' funny about that package you're carryin'?"

Lily turned to find the sheriff standing in the recessed doorway of Callahan's restaurant. "No. No, I was just thinking about something."

"I could use a laugh."

"I was trying to decide which songs we would sing if I loaded the piano and my girls on a wagon and we did an impromptu tour of Main Street. 'Golden Slippers' comes to mind, but 'Little Brown Jug' has a certain appeal. Anything you're partial to?"

He didn't look at all amused. "You wouldn't."

"I wouldn't say never."

"If anyone complained, I'd have to arrest you."

"So if I complain about the Intolerants, you'll arrest them?"

A muscle in his jawed ticked. "Don't put me in a bad position."

"Wouldn't be the first time I'd seen the inside of your jail, now, would it?"

His eyes narrowed as he studied her, and Lily discovered she quite enjoyed irritating the man.

"Have a pleasant afternoon, Sheriff."

"Don't cause problems," he said to her back.

She waved over her shoulder. "I wouldn't dream of it."

Lily hummed "Camptown Races" as she strolled away, her thoughts already elsewhere. There was much to be done that afternoon and in the days that followed.

A man she'd never seen before stood outside the Shady Lady as she approached. Near his feet lay a satchel and a canvas bag. He was average height, with tawny curls under a cap, and when he smiled at her approach, she saw that one front tooth overlapped the next. His smile was charming, however, and Lily returned it.

"How do, miss." He whipped his cap off and stepped forward. "Name's Thomas Finch. I'm travelin' through and lookin' for work."

"I have plenty of help, Mr. Finch. Maybe Howard Shaw over at the mercantile could use a hand."

"Oh, no, miss, I came here especially, 'cause I heard o' your place and I hoped to spend a few evenin's in your dance hall." He leaned over his bags and pulled out a banjo. "Listen to this."

He adjusted a string, then picked out a tune with his fingers flying. The melody was "Old Zip Coon," and Lily found herself tapping her foot. She'd never seen anyone who could play a banjo with such dexterity. He would definitely add to the lively atmosphere of the Shady Lady.

"I can sing a mite, too," Thomas told her. He changed the tune and sang "I Will Take you Home Again, Kathleen." His mellow tones were such a clear tenor that Lily's throat got tight.

"How long did you say you'd be staying?" Lily asked. She ushered him inside the front doors.

From his position on the boardwalk down the street, Nathaniel Harding watched Lily enter her saloon with the stranger. The doors closed behind them.

THOMAS FINCH was an amazing banjo player. His enthusiasm and energy inspired Isaac to try out new tunes, and by the second evening, they were playing together as if they'd always done so. The girls made more money dancing than they ever had. Thomas sang occasionally, and when he did, the crowd hushed to listen to his voice. The dancing stopped, and even the crustiest old miners got tears in their eyes.

"Save those," Lily told him when he came to the bar for a glass of beer. "Sparingly on the slow songs, Thomas. We want happy customers."

He grinned and drank the beer Old Jess slid toward him.

Sheriff Harding pushed through the bat wing doors and made his way to the bar. A few heads turned at his arrival, but Randall had always come in of an evening, so a lawman was no surprise.

Harding stopped beside Lily.

"Sheriff, this is Thomas Finch, our new banjo player."

The sheriff and Thomas shook hands. "Heard you play last night," Sheriff Harding told him. "You're good."

"Thank you. My daddy taught me."

"Miss Lily, can I have a word with you?" the sheriff asked.

Lily led him toward the hallway and used her key to let them inside her kitchen.

"What's on your mind?"

"Judge Adams arrived on a late train."

Lily's heart sank at the news.

"He'll be here for two days," he said. "I have to present Brand to him."

Lily had hoped to hear from the governor first, but she was prepared for the worst. "Thanks for letting me know."

"I understand the judge holds court early. Can you be at town hall first thing in the mornin'?"

"I'm sure Brand will give the judge an earful. But I'm not offering anything. I'm not even going to accuse Brand of assaulting me."

"Shouldn't you be there to defend yourself?"

"Against what? I haven't done anything wrong."

"You do have the man's daughter, Lily."

"He'll have to prove that, won't he?"

He stared at her as though trying to figure out what she was pulling. "Won't that be easy enough?"

The sheriff had been upstairs. He'd seen Violet. "I had hoped that you would help me," she said. "But I guess you can't compromise your job. Even for justice."

Their eyes met, and his were dark with an unknown reaction to her accusation. The silence of the kitchen was a contrast to the noisy dance hall next door. A muscle ticked in his jaw, but he said nothing.