She slowly and deliberatly headed for the door. Her steps were very calculated as she knew all her focus must be on walking a straight line. Scarlet placed her small hand on her belly and nodded as she passed the nice folks. She smiled sweetly as if to bid them good night.

Safely out the door, Scarlet took in a deep cold breath to try and clear her very foggy head.

She huffed, "I can't believe that punch. I best head home and get some rest being that Mr. Wyatt will be along in the mornin'. What an awful sight I will be without a little beauty rest."

After a few more deep breaths, Scarlet headed down the road for home, all the while mumbling something about Vape that even she wouldn't remember.

Conor himself had decided that he wouldn't go in order to keep watch over the town. He sensed a bit of trouble stirring around the edges of town and it disturbed him. Later he might head on over to the barn to see if any folk might need escorting home.

Starting at the far end of town from his office, Conor began to patrol. Most of the folk in town were at the dance. He had passed Ben Baker on the road as he made his way around town. The Sheriff grinned and tipped his hat. He knew this would be a surprise for Miss Weaver and could just see her face glow.

When he reached Miss Weaver's shop, he noted that a window had been broken. Leaning down he spotted some footprints that weren't dainty like Charity's or her apprentice's feet would be. He peered inside the shop and saw that things had been shuffle about a bit but couldn't tell if anything had been stolen.

There were more footprints going away from the shop. They moved into the brush which made them harder to follow. If Ian were here he could track this fellow with no problem. Ian, his brother, had a gift for tracking. Conor could sense danger and had to use that sense to lead him where it would.

His sense led him back toward the barn and the dance. The hair on the back of his neck almost stood up as he moved past the dance. He glanced inside, but all seemed well. James Peacemaker was dancing with Ruthie Charming Conor guessed there was no explaining somethings and grinned. Still the danger pulled at him fierce. He managed to catch young Peacemaker's eye for a moment, giving him a slight nod before moving on toward his yet unsighted goal.

As he moved down the road a piece he heard some hard scuffling under the trees to his left. Had he not sensed danger early on he might have thought it was some rabbits or a fox. Picking up his pace, he made for the sound.

Though it was dark, Conor was able to make out a shape under the cover of the trees. Then he saw that there were two people. . .one was female. She turned her head toward him, cold terror spread over her face. It was Tansy Hobs.

The sheriff felt his own anger boil up inside him. Hadn't Tansy suffered enough?

"Mister I dunna think ya wanna be hurtin' this girl nor any in this town."

He grabbed the man by his collar and shook Tansy free. As he shook, he saw a pair of scissors fall to the ground. Now he knew what had been taken from Miss Weaver's shop. He'd need that for evidence later.

"Run on back to the barn, Tansy, lass. I'll be there ta escort ya home later."

With that he turned and punched the man as hard as he could. Conor hoped his deputy had understood the look he gave him back at the barn and would be not too far behind.

"I'm thinkin' that yu'll be needin' a place to lodge t'night. Lucky fur you I have an openin' at the jail."

"I'm not done with you," he whispered, "I'll see you reeaaal soon."

She darted off toward the barn as Seth Fowler turned to face his annoyance. POW! Seth's attacker landed a fist square to his nose. Blood sprayed from Seth's Fowler's snout, and if anyone else were around they would have heard the bridge of Seth Fowler's nose cracking like a bundle of small, brittle twigs.

Blood ran down the back of Seth's throat as he heard his attacker say, "I'm thinkin' that yu'll be needin' a place to lodge t'night. Lucky fur you I have an openin' at the jail."

Seth spit a mouthful of blood onto the man's boots. He wiped blood onto his buckskin jacket sleeve and smiled a bloody grin. He made an obscene face as he broke wind, then spoke.

"Lucky fer YOU I'm in a good mood. So's I won't hurt ya. Your'e dead, all right, but I'll make it quick, hero. Daggurn town is fulla heroes."

Seth's good eye looked his opponent up and down. From behind Seth's back emerged an iron poker, which one might have recognised from the smithy, if one spent time recognising such things. Seth wielded it like a sword, and pointed it right at his new friend's throat...

"I admire yur confidence, lad. But I must warn ya, yu've done gone and threatened the wrong town hero."

He continued to twist the poker and the arm attached to it. As the man's torso bent with the arm, Conor kicked him squarely in the stomach.

"This is supposed ta be a time of peace on earth, but now, lad yuv gone and ruined it."

The sheriff could hear Tansy scuttling for the barn and hoped some of the men would take notice and find out what happened. He didn't want to have to kill this man. But if he had to. . .

Wretching the poker out of the man's useless arm, Conor slung it out of reach.

The barn was packed with warm bodies, but outside, the night air was brisk. Jasper shook his head, glad of the change.

He heard a sound, and glanced down the road. A grin split his face, and he strode in that direction. From the looks of things, the brawl that had almost started on the dance floor had continued farther down the road. Two men had squared off, and a little girl was standing near by, either watching the fun or about to run away. Jasper wanted to watch anyway, and so he sauntered over to the treeline without any particular hurry.

And Seth would wear the hero's blood as a war paint when he tracked down Tansy later tonight...

Seth Fowler leapt into the air and tackled Conor with a knee to the whatnots, sinking his grey teeth into Conor's fleshy cheek.

His legs were shaking as he walked toward the fight. He'd only seen one fight while at the Home, but it wasn't nothing like what he was seeing now. The Doctor's son passed him by on his way to watch the fight, not paying him a bit of attention, asking nobody in particular if'n they thought it (meaning the fight, Birley supposed) was exciting.

Birley didn't think it was exciting at all. Scary was closer to the truth, and quite out of the ordinary, especially when he saw Miss Tansy's face as he came near her. She looked like a ghost she was so white, and that made things even more unreal for Birley who thought it would be easier to scare off a full-grown badger than scare Miss Tansy. She was a only little older and a little bigger, but she always seemed so much more sure of herself than Birley himself usualy felt.

He didn't care much about the battle none, except to note that the poker the sheriff tossed away looked an awful lot like the one from the smithy, including the funny little twist in the metal near the business end of the handle. It was too close to the fight anyhow for him to want to retrieve it at the moment. Besides, Birley wasn't feeling all that brave, but he felt a lot more together than Miss Tansy looked.

He quickly shed his coat and put it around Miss Tansy's shoulders, for the moment not thinking about the patches on both elbows and the fact that the coat had been hiding his frayed suspenders.

"Here you are, Miss Tansy," he said. "I - I'll walk with you back to the barn... If'n that's where's your headed."

Birley - doing what he can despite his shaky legs

Sheriff Nettles had told Tansy to run, but her feet had stayed stuck to the ground. She couldn't run, and just stood there, shivering, feeling how the rest of the world just kept pullin' back, and pullin' back. Sounds, colors, everythin' until all that was left was the two bodies strugglin' in the snow and grey shadows. Little black stars sparked around the edge of her vision, but Tansy'd never fainted in her life. She felt sick and cold, but fainting was for fancy old ladies. She wouldn't've believed it if somebody told her how close she was.

When a voice reached her, it seemed to come across a long, bleak waste. Tansy had to make an effort to turn her face away from the fighting and notice Birley, the Smith's prentice standin' at her shoulder. He put his coat around her. Tansy's eyes, wide and staring, saw everything in an explosion of detail. She saw how pinched and white his face was, and the lock of hair that persisted in falling forward across his brow. She saw how the edges of his jacket had been carefully turned under to hide the wear, and his raggedy braces made threadbare streaks of dark up over his faded white shirt. His collar had been mended recently, and for some reason, the sight of those uneven stitches made the icy cold recede.

Birley said something about the barn, and with his arm around her shoulders, coaxed her gently away from the fight. Tansy went without even being aware of her legs moving. They must have done, but she just floated along above them, unaware. Birley kept talkin'. The thought came that he was using the same tone on her that the smith would use to soothe a frightened animal. She didn't mind. She felt like a very frightened animal.

It didn't seem like no time at all when the night was shut out and they were in the warm darkness of the barn. Tansy blinked and suddenly wrapped her arms around herself. All the time they'd been walking, and Tansy realized that she'd been imaginin' they were heading for Ba'al's barn, back at Joshua's cabin. All at once, she realized how dumb that'd been. It was too long a walk to go all that way through the woods. Birley hadn't taken her there at all.

"Where are we?" she asked, angry with herself because she if her brain weren't still so numb with fear, she'd have known right off. Hatrack was a small town, and she'd been most everywhere in it!

The question dissolved almost at once before another, more important one. The stranger who'd grabbed her up, she'd never seen his face. Was it Digger back from the dead? Or somebody else entirely? Maybe if she knew who it was, she could figure out why out of all the folk at the party tonight, she'd been the one singled out. She thought that the ghost-man had called her by name. Was that just chance, or something more?

"Who was that man? Who's that the Sheriff's fighting? Do you know who that man was?"

Mustering all his will power and doing his best to block the pain in his nether region and his face, Conor raised up and punched the man's stomach. Then wrapping his arms around the assailant, the Sheriff used what was left of his strength to sling the man toward a large tree. As fate would have it, the large tree was very close to where the two unknown spectators were standing.

Breathing hard, Conor put his fingers to his cheek. Most likely would need stitches. A sort of calm came over him briefly and he began to form the notion that he was going to have to kill this man. This was not exactly how he had planned on celebrating the holidays.

These and many more thoughts were swimming through her head. So distracted was she that she didn't notice the brawl that had started until Mr. Planter excused himself to break it up. Only then did she notice Jenny, in tears, and Clyde, not knowing what to do, on the floor in a mess... Stifling a smile, she moved to help the child when Naomi (right?) beat her to it, but before she could do anything, Jenny was lifted up by none other than Clyde and carted out of the barn.

Smile breakin' loose, Kathryn even allowed herself a small chuckle as she came to stand beside Mr. Planter. She remembered what it was like to be that young, not knowing whether to kiss'em or kill'em...

"Well this sure hasn't turned into a dull night like I feared." Though she still prided herself on propriety and the elegance of the city, there was a little bit of country in her that seemed to want to spread. More and more, she found herself talking like the people around her- letting her hair down... other things that her father would frown upon as she was a 'lady'. Still, she liked these people, and if that's what they brought out, now it couldn't be all bad, could it?

She bowed her head slightly towards Mr. Planter.

"If you'll excuse me, I think I need a bit of fresh air sir..." She made her way to the barn entrance, but before she was able to make it out, Miss Tansy came in white as a sheet, a man's coat around her shoulders. It was obvious the girl was in shock.

"Oh you poor dear... what's happened?" She asked to the young man (?) guiding Tansy inside. She vaguely recognized him from the smithy. "Come with me... This one needs to sit."

She lead the two upstairs to her living quarters, where it would be quiet. There, she set a kettle on the stove to warm some tea and asked the young man again, knowing Tansy was in no condition to be questioned.

He'd hardly finished giving his brief description before the hostess of the party was herding Tansy and himself upstairs, away from the Holiday celebration. Now that the fear had subsided (for the most part), it was becoming difficult to remember what had happened.

"Someone tried to hurt Miss Tansy," he said. "The sheriff was fighting with him, last I saw, and I don't know, but there were other men headed toward the fight. I'm sure he's been taken to the jail by now."

The last was directed more toward Tansy, in a sudden act of encouragment. He was feeling a little like the knight on a white horse, but the more time went by, the more his patched and faded clothes was making him feel out of place. A twelve year old boy is hardly a hero, and he wasn't born to nobility anyhow. He was just an orphan, and he would never be anything but an orphan. Even after he became a real Smith, he'd still have no family, 'cept for the pretense of family he had found with the fellow orphans.

Miss Walker certainly appeared to have things well in hand, takin' good care of Miss Tansy. Miss Tansy hadn't said naught that was in-tell-gible since they'd come upstairs only a minute or two ago, and Miss Walker hardly seemed to notice he was there since he'd explained what happened.

Not even bothering to retrieve his coat he left for home. The only home he had at the moment, which wasn't but a loft over the smithy. At least it was always warm in the smithy.

He paused near the doorway, running fingers through his hair. A sudden breeze, along with the disgusted looks he was sure folks were throwing his way on account of his threadbare attire, made him regret leaving his coat upstairs.

There was another celebration in the black part of town, and Becky had gone there, and danced a few times around that particular barn with a dour-faced young farmer from the black side of town who'd had a smile as bright and unexpected as the sun at midnight.

The party over, she was waiting outside the barn for Miss Charity. They were going to walk back to the shop together, a plan that she was beginning to think had unraveled when she saw Benjamin Baker dancing the seamstress across the floor.

Then she heard the ruckus down the road a little ways, and turned to see a fight. It probably wasn't any place for a lady, but she trotted over none the less.

She recognized the sheriff immediately, but not the man he was fighting. The night was frosty, and everyone's breath clouded up in front of them. There must have been half a dozen people watching, all of them men, but no one wanted to jump in unless the Sheriff asked for help. The fighting men were so hot with their exertions that steam rose off of them in the cold air.

When the tea kettle screamed to tell her it was ready, she turned to make three cups, but by the time she had turned around the boy was gone. One glance at Tansy told her that he hadn't even taken his coat.

'The poor thing will just freeze!' she thought, making a note to deliver it to him the next day...

Seth glared at the sheriff then spit a wad of spit and blood in Conor's direction. Seth Fowler then picked a bit of Conor's cheek from between his teeth and wiped it on his pant leg.

Although her list of suitors could be counted on one finger, Aggie'd had her share of male companionship. Back home, she'd been every man's friend. Either as a side effect of her unusual size, or as a result of having a handful of brouthers, Aggie'd found herself cast in the role of faithful companion, someone to spend time with while a gent was waiting for a chance to dance with one of the pretty girls in town. If she hadn't been fairly good at cracking jokes, Aggie supposed she might as well have been a spaniel. All that experience with masculine behavior was what made it perfectly clear from the moment she saw a knot of men gathered at the bend in the road that there was a fight going on.

Maybe Jim, bless his heart, was too distracted by payin' her compliments to notice. Aggie wasn't sure whether he'd have tried to steer her clear of the gathering otherwise. Maybe he would have, in the way other men helped protect more fragile ladies from the world's rougher edges. Maybe not. They'd had some time to talk, she and Jim, and Aggie wondered if he'd paid close enough attention to the things she'd said to realize that a girl with four brothers wasn't likely to be scared by any thing men chose to do with themselves.

The severity of this battle was still shocking. Aggie took one look at the sheriff, his face a bloody mess, and her mouth dropped open. Still, she didn't wait a second, but was immediately reaching for her handkerchief to push against the wound. The other man, she had to assume he was a criminal of some kind, ran away. Of course he was a criminal. Who else would do this sort of damage to a good man?

“I think you’d better go after him, Jim” “The sheriff’s bleedin’ and in no condition to be chasin’ round in the dark.”

Taking in the situation at a glance, he saw the man moving into the woods. He was undecided for a moment, but noticed that Aggie would not lack for an escort home. Besides, he thought, growing up with all those brothers, he was sure that she could teach most men a thing or two ‘bout wrestlin’. Giving her a small nod, he sped off.

His long strides where steadily catching up to the much smaller man ahead of him. Even the bushes did not seem to want to get in his way.

Miz Walker was used to motherin' folks, or so it seemed. She was able to coax and pat at Tansy, and still worry over how Birley'd gone off without his coat. Maybe even all that, and keep an eye on li'l Musik, too. It was a wonder.

Tansy shook herself all over, like a dog pulling itself out of the river. She looked up at Miz Walker through the tangle of her hair.

"I don't know who took me, But I ain't never gonna forget how Sheriff Nettles jumped in to safe me. Did he come out all right?"

With taking care of Tansy and that little Birley boy, she hadn't given a thought to the sheriff! At least she should have had some of the men from the party go out and make sure he was allright...

"Why-- I'm not sure, darlin'. If you'd like, I'll have someone go and check...?"

She poked her head outside the apartment/loft to yell down to Mr. Planter.

"Mr. Planter! Jim!..." She waited until she had his attention. "Something's going on outside. Could you go out and check on the Sheriff. Please? It'd be an awful help..."

He had been so kind this evening, asking her to dance, practically taking over as host for this party when she took Tansy upstairs. It was so kind of him, she almost hadn't wanted to ask. But more than a few of the young men would have heard her hollerin' down to Mr. Planter and gone out with him-- right? Well, she had Tansy to take care of right now, that had her attention.

"Now you don't worry there none, miss Tansy. Mr. Planter is going on out there to check on the Sheriff. Why don't you try settlin' down, darlin'?"

When the real hostess of the party called downstairs about a fight outside, he was in the middle of breaking up a fight over something or another. A man next to him told him the fight broke out over who was going to dance with the broom. Simple case of too much punch for these boys...

He was headed out of the barn anyway, to dispose of the punched rascals, so down the lane he headed to see what had become of the fight. The men (and a few women he was troubled to see) were crowded too close for the fight to still be going on. The fact that so many remained after the fight was over meant someone was hurt, probably hurt bad too.

He pushed his way to the front, hardly noticing how he was parting the crowd, then gasped when he saw the sheriff's mangled face. He'd seen worse, but... no, no, he'd never seen teeth showing through a hole in the cheek before.

The sheriff was being well-tended however, and there was nothing for Jim to stay for with everything well in hand. Besides, there were plenty of able-bodied, and younger, men that could take the sheriff to Doc Wells. He was glad to see that no new fights were breaking out in the barn since he had left his post.

He made his was quickly along the wall, nearly running headlong into the smith's 'prentice (Burly? strange name for a runt like that). Poking his head into the apartment he was prepared to tell all he'd seen, but from the look he got from the little one, his heart just wasn't in it.

"The sheriff took a few hits, but nothing serious, and you oughta see the other guy. That sheriff really stuck it to him for you Tansy. Hardly recognizable anymore."

“You jus come peacefully and I won’t hurt you.” Jim had reached the bottom of the hill and was swinging his club threateningly. The smaller man was barely tall enough to reach Jim’s chest with his arms outstretched.

So the feller wasn't recognizeable? That meant as how he'd not only laid a whallop on the Sheriff, but slipped off hisself. If they'd caught and held him, Tansy reckoned, there'd have been half a dozen ways to get him to give up some kind of a name. Mr. Planter hadn't said nothin' about anybody chasin' anybody else, so she suspected that whether or not he really was a ghost, the man who'd tried to cart her off had vanished in the dark.

Tansy shook her head back and forth slowly. She couldn't make head nor tail of what was goin' on, but she was startin' to worry about Joshua and even that danged baby of his. Weren't all that long ago when he'd been the one carried off, willy nilly, and all because he was lookin' for Tansy. Maybe he hadn't had so much time for her ever since that baby done arrived, but she still couldn't take that chance he wouldn't notice how long she'd been gone and go lookin'. Now Joshua was somebody's Pa, Tansy figgered it was her job to see he didn't get hisself hurt.

Tansy didn't know much about motherin' because she'd lost hers when she was just seven. Still, she knew plenty about fatherin' and the last thing she aimed to do was get Joshua upset so as he'd take it out on Miss Twilla or that danged baby. Joshua didn't want to hurt no one. She knew that. He had stood up for Tansy through thick and thin, and with Digger's ghost runnin' around the countryside, Tansy couldn't think of a safer place to hide than Joshua's cabin.

He slowly rose and started walking back through the woods to the town. It took him awhile to reach where the people still stood around the sheriff.

"He got away." Jim shrugged his shoulders as he reached Aggie. "Fights dirty too," Jim continued as he felt a twinge from his injured parts.

Jim had seen the bite that man had taken out of the Mr. Nettles' face, and still seemed surprised that when he'd found him, the fellow had acted just as badly. Aggie had brothers. She wasn't all that surprised by selective moments of masculine idiocy. A peaceful man jumped into a fight (when he did fight) expecting his opponent to follow the same rules he himself used. In Jim's case, that meant fighting fair. Whether he was limping now because he hadn't taken the Sheriff's wounds into consideration, hadn't been fast enough to dodge, or because he hadn't realized that the kind of person who would snatch up a little girl in the dark of night was no better than an animal, Aggie didn't know or care.

"If you like, I'll see if someone will escort you home, dear. " Her face got a little stern, mothering getting a bit stronger. "But you are not to go out there alone, little miss, Understand? I could have someone send word home for you if you'd like to stay here and leave in the morning..." Before Tansy could think to protest, Kathryn continued. "... Twould be no trouble at'all. We have an extra room, and I'm sure no one would try at you here..."

She looked to Jim Planter for support.

He turned a pitying eye to Tansy, remembering (not too fondly) of the last time he had been mothered so ferociously. In fact, it didn't take too much to recall the event, being only a week before. That wife of his treated him like just another of her many pets, only there seemed to be more pampering involved!

As they walked towards the Inn, Jim said "I'll be going after that man tonight. Now don't worry, I'll not be getting that close to him again. He's somewheres in that wood and I plan to bring him back to jail."

"My crossbow will help and I will be very careful." Jim added as he saw the look in Aggie's eyes. "We have to get rid of this man or else someone else might end up hurt."

"Thank you Mr. Planter. That's very kind of you to offer." A soft smile on her face, she fussed with the blanket around Tansy's shoulders. "You can keep that- it's right chilly outside."

With one last look to make sure that Tansy was doing better, she turned back to Mr. Planter.

"Thank you again for all your help, Jim. I'll send something by for your wife. Tell her that I said she'd better be up and about a'fore friday to help me with the new stock..." The tone in her voice was teasing. She didn't expect anything from the couple, but it was nice to have a pair of friends like them. "Now, is there anything else you'll need before you two go?..."

The feeling of icy shock had disappeared to nothing more than a pain underneath her breastbone. It had been replaced by a feeling of urgency that itched and pulled at her. Somehow the threat to herself had been turned into a potential threat against Joshua and that baby, and the only way to save them both (she thunk) was to get home as soon as possible. If that meant bein' swaddled up in a heavy quilt, wearin' prentice Birley's coat, and walkin' with Jim Planter the whole way, she'd do it and a half dozen more things.

A part of Tansy knew that she ought to thank Mizz Walker for takin' her in and warmin' her up, but unfortunately, the education she'd got from Digger had been lackin' in more than just letters and numbers. He'd never been the sort to thank anybody, and Tansy's expression of gratitude was hardly more than a mutter.

Alarmed, Kathryn moved to the bed, sitting down next to her little girl.

"Musik? Honey, what's the matter?" Musik just shook her head, sobbing even more into her pillow. Kathryn stroked her hair, something that had always helped her little girl calm down before, but now only seemed to make her more upset. "Come on, tell Mammy what's wrong..."

Musik hesitated, then turned to face Kathryn. What Kathryn saw made her gasp. One side of Musik's head- the side she had been stroking- was the long beautiful locks Musik had had since she was four, the other side anywhere between her chin and her shoulder, cut in jagged uneven strokes. Her eyes brimmed with tears.

"M-m-m-m-y h-hair!..." she sobbed.

"Musik, what have you done?... YOur beautiful hair... what happened?" kathryn struggled not to get upset. Musik already seemed very distraught, and her getting angry wouldn't help any.

"It w-w-was Susan's f-fault! S-s-he dared me t-t-to c-cut it! She s-said it would c-c-curl.. like hers!" She turned her head back into her pillow and cried with renewed strength.

"Tansy, or maybe I should call you Miss Hobbs. You ain't 'zactly a child anymore that folks can go about calling you whatever they please, and you just remember that next time some body calls you something you don't like. I figure we known each other long 'nough, or known of each other at any rate, that I can call you Tansy, and you can call me Jim, if'n you care to that is."

He didn't wait for a response continuing without more than a slight pause for breath, "And seeing how you've grown to be a young lady, and not some little girl, despite the mothering you were subject to back there, I've got to ask you something before we head on home. If'n you don't want to answer, that's fine and all. But; but if'n you can't answer for whatever reason, I'd like to know that too. Just tell me you can't, and I'll drop it, just like that, faster than a tithe in the collection plate.

"It's strange that some man would want to hurt you, and I don't mean that you ain't pretty enough to catch the eye of some stranger that would want to do harm. But I got my suspicions about who that feller was that tried to grab you, and there's one way I can be sure, but I reckon you wouldn't remember something little like whether the man smelled fouler than an old outhouse or not. That's not really what I want to ask you, though if'n you do remember something like that, it might help us catch the rat by the tail, if'n you catch my meaning.

"What I'd like to know is why you? There were plenty of girls out, that sister of yours for one, and no offense, but if that man wanted something sinister from you, I'd reckon your sister would have caught his eye in a hurry. Have you had any dealings, or doing any sort of work other than your fetching and clam farming? Something that might'a made you a target for foul work like gettin' kidnapped?"

He looked seriously at her, and even though he was down on one knee so he could be at eye-level with the young woman, he tried to make it clear he was asking her as he would ask any adult the same question. He tried to piece the events of the evening over in his mind, and he knew somehow that it was that man that had drenched the little boy in punch and then managed to break a record for how many times a man could step on a lady's feet while dancing. There was something missing, some piece to the puzzle that would explain everything, Jim was sure of it, but he didn't know what it was, only that Tansy had been hand-picked for his evil-doings. And that meant there was a reason for the botched kidnapping. Jim had a feeling in his gut that this wasn't over, but he wasn't about to start pestering or mothering the young lady.

Jim - trying to figure things out

Any other approach probably wouldn't have worked on that night. Tansy'd spent most of her life building up hard-slab walls against intrusion, against pity. They were useless here. Jim had blasted right past her old quakes and quivers and charted new territory.

He'd called her a woman, which by rights was true, though only just. He'd said she was not just a woman, but pretty, two things that'd never happened in all Tansy's life. And the strangeness got worse, especially because Tansy'd seen time and again how some men folks went around women, talking to them in the same little voices they used for babies, as if they didn't think ladies had any more sense. Her own pa'd done that with her ma, half the time, talked pretty at her, and teased her. Jim Planter'd gone to a lot of trouble to make Miz Walker feel safe and protected, but he didn't go to any such effort now with Tansy. She didn't think he was treating her like a woman, she thought he was treating her like a man, and consequently, felt safer than if he'd coddled her.

Maybe he was drunk, like folks always said about him, but he still could've knocked her over with a feather after a shock like that. Later, she told herself that it was the shock as made her tell him the truth, or maybe it was just a mutual respect that drew it out, instead of producing some story that would have been easier to believe.

"I reckon I know where he came from all right, and why he picked me, Jim," she said in her gravelly little voice. She stood there in the snow and moonlight, cold beneath the borrowed quilt and tattered jacket she wore, but not shivering. By moonlight, her eyes were fathomless depths, and her tangled hair blew around her face like oak leaves blustering around a tree. "It ain't a real man. It's a ghost, come to haunt me on account I killed the man it used to be. It snatched me up to take me back with it, an' I don't know how the Sheriff managed to bust it one, unless he maybe had a horseshoe in his back pocket. Those are powerful lucky, you know."

(...continued in the Woods)

"Tansy? Are you here? Has anyone seen Tansy Hobbs?"

Dropping what she had been doing, Kathryn moved over to Jenny. She recognized her as the child who had gotten into that fight with Clyde earlier in the evening.

She really had agreed to marry Clyde Traveller, hadn't she? But the question remained: did she love him or not?