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tracking her, and I haven't asked you yet what happened while you were out there with her.”
    “No, ye haven't. I'm sure Mr. Stone and his wife told ye everything was fine.”
    Sheriff Hughes nodded. “Yes, Levi shared with me that you were all right when we ran into each other on the road, and Apple seemed to be okay.”
    “Then why are ye asking me this? Are ye accusing me of taking advantage of the girl while I was alone with her?”
    “Did you?”
    “Of course not!”
    “Glad to hear it, son.”
    “What is this about?”
    “Nothing. It’s just that a handsome thing like you out there on the prairie with a pretty little gal like that… well… things can happen.”
    Bran's mouth dropped open. “Sheriff Hughes, I'll have ye know I don't take kindly to such implications.”
    “No implications, son. A woman like that upset over what she’d done to you, why, I can only imagine what a fight it was not to take her in your arms and comfort her while she cried her eyes out.
    Bran snapped his mouth shut. He was about to tell the sheriff she did no such thing, nor did he, but thought better of it. If the sheriff knew he'd practically had to drag her back to town, and that she wanted nothing to do with him, he might really question his character. Come to think of it, maybe he should question it! What sort of low-down skunk goes out to rescue a girl, finds her, and doesn't comfort her just as the sheriff said? But he didn't find her crying and upset because she was scared out of her wits. No, she was upset because… Oh, Lord, no… Because she wanted his forgiveness .
    Bran closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his face a few times. What kind of a skunk indeed?
    “Are you sure there ain’t nothin’ wrong, son?” Sheriff Hughes asked again.
    “Yes, no …” Bran said with a sigh. “But it's nothing I can't fix.”
    The sheriff looked him up and down in the dim lantern light that shone forth from inside the Sheriff's office. “Well then, son, you'd better take care of it.” With that he stepped off the boardwalk and crossed the street to the saloon. It was still early enough to grab a game of checkers with Paddy Mulligan or Wilfred.
    Bran blew out a long breath and sat back down. What was he going to do? On the one hand, he knew he needed to forgive her—no—make that; he knew she needed him to forgive her. But on the other hand, a part of him was still very angry at what the little scamp had done. After all, she’d almost killed him! If it hadn't been for Doc Drake having the unseemly talent of being able to crack open a safe, he'd be dead. “Thank you Lord, for looking out for me. But now what do I do? That woman just makes me so angry!”
    But it didn't matter how angry she made him, he knew that eventually he was going to have to forgive her for his sake, and hers. But maybe he'd just wait a day or two before he got around to it. Yes… that's what he’d do. Besides, he probably wouldn't see her for a few days anyway, if at all. He knew she’d probably be at her sister's place for a couple of days, and if he just happened to not be around when she came through town, well… wouldn't that be just too bad?
    “Oh for heaven's sakes man, what are ye thinking?” Bran muttered as he ran a hand over his face again. “Ye can't do that to the lass, yer not that mean. It’s not as if yer like yer da .” Bran sat back in the chair and stared across the street at the saloon. “Da…” He whispered. His gut coiled and his mouth formed a frown. His da was the last thing he wanted to think about right now. Or ever.
     
    * * *
    Apple awoke the next morning feeling drained and confused. She'd not slept well, a direct result of fretting over her new-found discovery. She wanted to talk about it with someone but knew they'd think her foolish. Well, except for maybe her sisters who knew about the curse, but like many, didn't want to acknowledge that it really did exist. But exist it did, Apple was proof of that, and