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moves on or the town council gets enough of him, and I don’t see you quitting the railroad as a solution. If you’re willing to risk it, and she wants to go, I’ll take Vivian with me.”
    â€œShe wants to go and I’m willing for her to,” Harley said. “We just don’t want you feelin’ like you’ve been boxed in, that she’s become a burden.”
    â€œShe’s never been a burden,” said Nathan. “If I didn’t care for her, I wouldn’t be concerned about something happening to her.”
    â€œLike what happened in Pueblo,” Harley said. “We understand and appreciate your concern, but she’s willing to take the risk. I’m willing, because she needs a man like you. I know you would fight to the death for her, and no man who ever lived could do more than that. Take her, with my blessing. She’s at the Dodge House. Why don’t you ride over there and tell her what you’ve decided?”
    â€œI will,” said Nathan. “Tomorrow I’ll be riding back to Fort Elliott. I left my grulla there and I promised to return the horse Collins stole from the livery at Mobeetie.”
    Nathan rode on to the Dodge House and wasn’t surprised to find Earp slouched in a chair in the lobby. He glared at Nathan through slitted eyes, but Nathan ignored him.
    â€œOh, I’m so glad to see you!” Vivian cried when she opened her door. “Come in and tell me what’s happened.”
    She closed and locked the door, and Nathan told her everything, up to and including the showdown with Drew Collins.
    â€œWyatt Earp may be a wonderful town marshal,” she said, “but I can’t stand him. Now he’ll make it as hard on you as he can, because you’ve made him look small.”
    Nathan laughed. “He doesn’t cast as long a shadow as he thinks. Harley and me just had a talk, and we’ve decided you’re better off with me, bein’ shot at, than bein’ stalked by Señor Earp while Harley’s away.”
    â€œDo you mean it?” she cried. “Do you really want me?”
    â€œI mean it,” said Nathan, “and I do want you. I just don’t want you shot, but neither do I want Earp hounding you. I’ll buy you a horse, a saddle, and saddlebags. We’ll leave for Fort Elliott and Mobeetie in the morning.”
    â€œI’ll be ready,” she said. “Will you be joining Harley and me for supper?”
    â€œYes,” said Nathan, “and for now, you’d best stay where you are. Earp’s out there in the lobby.”

CHAPTER 2

St. Louis, Missouri May 27, 1877
    â€œGrandma, why can’t you tell me somethin’ about my pa? Who was he?”
    Young John Wesley Tremayne would soon be eleven years old. John Tremayne—his grandfather—had been dead a year, leaving Anna to raise the boy as best she could. Now it was up to her to lie to the boy, and she sighed.
    â€œJohn, I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”
    â€œDon’t call me John,” he begged. “Call me Wes, like Wes Hardin, the outlaw.”
    â€œI will not,” said Anna. “You were named after your grandfather, John, and my own father, Wesley.”
    The boy stomped out in disgust. Anna Tremayne removed her spectacles and rubbed her eyes. Now that John was gone and her own health was failing, what was going to become of the boy? He had been given his grandfather’s watch; inside the cover was the only photograph they had of Molly Tremayne, John Wesley’s mother. She had died at the boy’s birth, and all they knew of the affair that had led to the child’s arrival was the little she had written in her diary. There were the dates—the days Anna and her husband had been away, leaving Molly alone at home—and a man’s name. Nathan. 2 They hadn’t known the diary existed until Molly was dead. She had told them nothing. The