"Shore didn't expect to see you again, Son." The sheriff reached across his desk and shook Galen's hand.
"Didn't expect to be back. You send those papers off I asked you to?"
"I did. Same day you left, on the next stage through."
"Ever hear anything back?"
"Nope. Why, somethin' wrong?"
Galen related briefly, what had happened after he left Pine Ridge. He mentioned the registry office man, Braun, asking if the sheriff knew him.
"Nope, never met him. He's here you say?"
"Yep, and it's about the bank draft I cashed. He told me all about it on the stage. Didn't know who he was tellin' though. I just let him talk."
"So, why are you back?"
"Preston is still trying to squash that land transfer, and I aim to set him straight."
The sheriff folded his hands and tapped the thumbs together. "Any law breakin' and I'll have to step in. You know that, right?"
"He's already breakin' it, Sheriff."
"Don't mean you can too."
"Are you his man?"
The hands came apart and pressed flat on the desk as he arose out of the chair. "I ain't nobody's man but my own - and you better get that straight right now."
"Fair enough. I don't aim to start any trouble, but f it comes I won't be steppin' aside."
"I've come to respect you, Mr. Helliwell, so don't make me change that view."
It was almost noon by the time Galen finished with the sheriff and checked on the horses, and he felt a quick drink before bracing Preston was in order. He thought of Lydia and wondered if he might see her there; she had mentioned a meeting at noon. Galen hopped up the steps and through the doors into the saloon.
The bartender nodded and leaned on the top, waiting for his order. Galen smiled, said whiskey and turned to look around the room. His first feeling was shock, then he blinked and pinched the bridge of his nose. Lydia and Preston! He heard the bartender put his drink down and he turned back, tossing it down in one gulp.
"Another?"
"Maybe later." He walked slowly toward the comfortable setting, where Preston was concentrating on something Lydia was saying.
Galen stopped at their table and they both looked. Surprise from one, and disbelief from the other.
"Galen! I didn't expect to see you this soon." Lydia gave a short laugh and touched Preston's arm. "Mr. Preston, this is a friend of mine, Mr. He--"
Her hand was slapped away and she cried out. "I know who he is."
"You owe the lady an apology, Preston."
With a vein bulging on his forehead, he slammed a fist on the table and jumped up from his seat. Galen stepped back, watching for the sleeve gun he knew Preston wore.
"Better calm down, Preston, you're gonna bust your heart."
Preston pushed past him and stomped toward the bar, hollering a name.
"Lydia, how do you know him?" Galen leaned toward her, eyes wide.
"I don't, I was meeting him about the job. He owns the saloon." Her hand went to her mouth. "What is this about, Galen?"
"This was my personal business." He was interrupted as an argument broke out near the bar. Preston and two men that looked like gun sharks were berating the bartender about them causing trouble when there were other customers, and a lady in the saloon.
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YOU ARE READING
The Right Thing To Do
ActionGalen Helliwell, an aimless traveller with a personal ethic of always trying to do the right thing.