If Wolf Spencer saw the gallows as he rode into town, there was no indication in his manner except for the almost imperceptible turning of his eyes under the shade of his flat-brimmed hat. Hunched forward in the saddle, he rode slowly, for he was tired to the marrow of his bones. He looked neither right nor left as he rode down the center of the street and dismounted in front of the Cattleman’s Hotel.

       At the door of the hardware store, a man was leaned against the porch post. He studied the rider with idle curiosity, noting the worn trail gear and the coat of tanned deerskin with its fringe of wolf hair around the collar. As the man’s eyes swept the stranger’s lean profile, he suddenly stiffened and took a couple of rapid steps backward. Wolf saw the movement and the corners of his mouth moved upward in a crooked grin.

       At the far end of town, the stamp mill at Megan Mine beat a slow cadence and then stopped. Steam blasted and echoed from the row of false-fronted buildings on the main street.

       There was the usual group of late afternoon idlers leaned back against the wall on the front porch of the hotel. They surveyed the stranger, prepared to speak when he looked their way. They noted the Indian pony he rode and the condition of his gear, which had obviously seen hard use. He tied the dun to the hitching post and moved around the end of the watering trough. He did not even glance at the men as he passed and seemed unaware of the muttering behind him as he went through the front door.

       ”I didn’t hear the stage arrive,“ Noah Wade said as the he leaned his elbow against the polished surface of the desk.

       ”I just rode in. Can you arrange a stable for my horse?“

       ”Certainly can,“ Wade said as he turned the ledger around.

       Spence was aware of the clerk’s interest as the pen scratched its way across the page.

       ”Funny thing,“ Wade observed as he returned the pen to its holder. ”I can usually figure out a man’s occupation just by looking at his hands. Now, you take that scar there. It looks like a wolf trap might have caught you at sometime or the other.“

       ”That’s a pretty good guess. They even hung a name on me. Wolf Spencer.  But most of my friends call me Spence.“

       The brass key fell from Wade’s fingers and clattered on the surface of the desk. He thought about the sawed-off shotgun within easy reach under the desk, but his hands seemed to have a life of their own. Wade waited until Spence had disappeared up the stairs and then rushed through the double doors at the front of the hotel. The men on the porch leaned forward in their chairs as he scurried across the street to the jail office.

       ”Marshal!“ Wade shouted as he darted through the front door.

       The wrinkles on Marshal Gray’s face crinkled in amusement. ”Whoa up, Noah! I haven’t seen you move that fast in years. Where’s the fire?“

       ”There ain’t no fire. It’s worse than that!“

       ”Just simmer down, Noah. You’re going to give yourself a heart attack.“

       Deputy Marshal Abe Wentrell was leaning against the wall cleaning a rifle. He snorted as he looked up. ”It must have been the devil to have you worked up like that.“

       Wade’s eyes darted between the two men, not liking their good-natured joshing in the least. ”Well, if it’s not the devil it’s the next thing to it!“

       Marshal Gray’s hands stopped their exploration through the top drawer of his desk. ”What’s up, Noah?“

       ”It’s Wolf Spencer!“ Wade said. He still had his mouth open but nothing else fell out.

       ”Where did you see this fellow and why do you think it’s him?“

       ”That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. He’s over at the hotel. There’s no doubt about it being Wolf.“

       The atmosphere of the room had suddenly become as tense as a prairie hillside before a storm. ”Where is he now?“ Gray asked.

       ”Upstairs in his room. I didn’t recognize him until he had already signed the register.“ He rolled an eyeball at Wentrell as if he was expecting a comment from that direction.

       ”You did fine, Noah,“ Gray said in a soothing voice.

       Wade leaned forward, expectantly. ”Are you going to arrest him?“

       ”Far as I know there aren’t any valid charges against him. I still have a handful of wanted posters around here, but all of them are from cattlemen’s associations. No authority there to begin with. You go back to the hotel. I’ll be over in a minute.“

       ”In case you need a posse there’s a bunch on the porch.“

       Gray raised his hand to cut off Noah’s speculation. ”I won’t need a posse, Noah. John Spencer and I are old friends.“

       Wade looked at him doubtfully but wasn’t inclined to argue. He jammed his hat on his head and jerked the door open. Gray waited for it to close before he moved to the windows. He took a cautious finger and pushed the gingham curtain aside.

       How long had it been? Gray peered through the grimy window at the street, then raised his eyes and darted a glance toward the cemetery at the far end of town. He thought about the men who lay in the long, silent rows under the shade of the aspens. He had always known Spence would be back. He wasn’t the kind to let things dangle forever, especially when one of those things was John Ward McClellan and the other was Shannon Lawson. Gray leaned wearily against the wall and felt the old ache from the bullet wound start up in his shoulder. The ache always foretold one of two things, rain or trouble. He glanced toward the mountains. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

       ”Are you expecting some trouble?“ Wentrell asked. ”I heard this Wolf Spencer is a real bad’un.“

       Gray felt his back stiffen. Sometimes Wentrell would go for days without saying anything, and then when he did speak he was likely to say the wrong thing.

       ”I know the bad things you’ve heard. He lived with the Cheyenne after his folks were killed. Some folks say he was at the Fort Mead Massacre. Even if he did some of the things the army has accused him of, I can’t say I blame him.“

       ”That is a funny thing to say, seeing you were a horse soldier yourself at one time.“

       ”Not so funny when you know the facts. If a man ever had reason to be bitter against the army, he does. Have you ever heard of the Lawson gang?“

       ”They were outlaw soldiers, weren’t they?“

       ”Spencer’s father was their commanding officer during the rebellion. After the war, he resigned his commission and came out here. His old outfit was transferred up to the fort a year or so later. There was a lot of robbing and killing all over the area. Things went on like that for two or three years until they finally made a mistake. Lon Spencer wasn’t afraid to testify against them. They swore they would kill him for getting them convicted. Two days before they were to be hanged, they escaped from this jail. That murdering bunch wiped out his whole family. That boy was the only one to escape alive. Only kinfolk’s he’s got left is in that big house on top of the hill. John McClellan is his uncle.“

       Wentrell gave a low whistle. ”I hadn’t heard that. I knew there was some kind of family connection but I didn’t know it was that close. Seems kind of funny being kin to General McClellan, him being so famous and all.“

       ”You haven’t been around here long enough to have heard the whole story. People don’t like discussing private matters in front of newcomers. Especially when they might have their words repeated to General McClellan.“

       Wentrell grunted. ”Heard there was a heap of shooting before things got settled down.“

       Gray turned away from the window, running his hand across his jaw. ”There was a lot of shooting, but if you think anything was settled you’re mistaken. You go out the back way and circle around the hotel. See if you can spot anything suspicious. If there are any strangers hanging around don’t take any chances.“

       Gray waited until Wentrell was gone, then picked up a rifle and jacked a shell into the chamber. He ignored the bunch on the porch as he passed through the front doors of the hotel. Wentrell come cat footing up behind him as he started up the stairs. He knocked on the door and stood listening for any movement from within. He was about to knock again when he heard the voice.

       ”It’s unlocked, Marshal. Come on in.“

       The door swung open on well-oiled hinges. Spence was leaned against the headboard of the bed with his holster turned where it was near his hand. The clothes he wore were not much different from those of any cowboy, but there was something decidedly foreign about them. The only thing Gray could see that suggested Indians was the object fastened to Spence’s hat. It looked like a scrap of fur wrapped around a match-sized stick. It was supposed to bring luck to whoever carried it. Spence was likely to need all the luck he could get.

       ”Figured you’d come back eventually,“ Gray said. ”Glad you did.“

       ”I wasn’t sure you would feel that way. I guess you know why?“

       ”Yeah, I do. You planning to stay awhile?“

       ”Just long enough to get my business rounded up.“ Spence seemed about to say something else, then clamped his jaw shut.

       ”I hope you aren’t thinking about getting even?“

       The cold blue eyes came around and Gray could feel his spine stiffen. It was the same flat look he had once seen in the mountains when he had faced a lobo wolf across a campfire. He had killed it with a lucky shot but the eyes had looked the same even in death. Maybe Wentrell was right. Maybe it wasn’t the scar that had earned him the name.

       ”I'm not carrying a grudge. I left something here so I came back to pick it up.“

       ”That something wouldn’t happen to be a person, would it?“

       There was a flicker behind the narrowed eyes. ”I don’t know what you mean. Everyone in my family is dead. You ought to know that.“

       ”Not all of them, Spence. John Ward McClellan is your uncle, and there is Victoria and Shannon and Dave. You ought to at least see them before you ride out.“

       Spence gave a dry, humorless laugh that made the back of Gray’s neck prickle. It was an Indian laugh, the kind he had heard from the darkness when he was a horse soldier.

       ”I’m sure McClellan knows I’m back, like he knows everything else. I don’t want to see him.“

       A whistle sounded in the distance and echoed thinly through town, signaling the end of the day shift at the mine. Gray knew that the miners would be spilling into town soon, with most of them thirsty for their first drink of the day. A few of them would be spoiling for a fight.

       Someone mounted the stairs heavily, taking two at a time. Wentrell went to the door and opened it a crack.

       ”Marshal!“ someone called from the hallway.

       ”In here, Jim. What’s the trouble?“

       ”A rider just came in. He’s been shot in the shoulder. They’ve got him over at Doc Kersey’s office.“

       ”Be right down, Jim. Thanks.“ Gray turned back around with his hand on the doorknob.

       ”Have you made any plans, Spence?“

       ”I have, as a matter of fact. I’m going to take a bath. The porter is supposed to be heating the water.“

       Gray grunted. It wasn’t the answer he expected, but he knew it was the only one he was likely to get.

       ”Be careful, Spence.“

       ”Don’t worry. I’ll be riding on tomorrow, most likely.“

       Gray nodded, then stepped through the doorway and started down the stairs. As he came through the front door, he looked up the street at the raw, yellow pine of the gallows. Judge Dirkson had ordered it built as a deterrent to crime. He hoped its first victim wouldn’t be Spence.

       FROM WHERE she stood on the low stool, Shannon Lawson could see the reflection of herself in the pier glass at the opposite end of the room. Turning the upper part of her body from side to side, she examined herself critically, not sure the dress was right for her. It was far from perfect, she decided, but it was too late, much too late to change. Her eighteenth birthday was the twenty-first, and today? Today was the third.

       Standing a little more erect, Shannon pulled the material at her neckline until it hung in precarious balance at the edge of her shoulders, and then turned her attention to her hair. It lay on her shoulders and cascaded down her back until it seemed that the weight of it was too much for the slim column of her neck. The late afternoon light from the window set up red highlights in its chestnut depths. When she moved, it brushed against the roundness of her shoulders and upper arms. She flipped it back impatiently, then pulled again at the neckline of her dress. Rachel, who was straightening and pinning the hem, gave her a look that was ignored.

       ”Shannon, can’t you stand still even for a minute?“ Rachel complained around a mouthful of pins.

       There was the sound of a carriage on the drive. Victoria walked to the upstairs window in time to see the passenger step down at the end of the walk. ”It’s Judith Edgar,“ Victoria cried, and raised an eyebrow at Shannon.

       ”Really!“ Shannon glanced from Victoria’s animated face toward the mirror on the wall. For the first time she felt a strong uncertainty about the dress. She wasn’t sure that burgundy was the right color for her.

       ”I’ll bring her up,“ Victoria said, and ran past Shannon to the opened doorway where she almost collided with Miss Dreadmore, their housekeeper and governess.

       ”Walk!“ Miss Dreadmore commanded as she brought Victoria to an abrupt halt. ”I don’t want her to think I’ve raised two thickheaded louts.“

       ”My shoes,“ Shannon said. ”Where are they?“

       Rachel uttered a complaint as Shannon shifted her feet and started to step down.

       ”If you make one step off that stool, I’ll confine you to your room for the remainder of the week,“ Miss Dreadmore warned.

       ”Thank yea kindly, ma’am,“ Rachel said. ”Between the two of them, they’ll be the death of me.“

       There were footsteps on the stairs. First, a gallopade that slowed and came to a hesitant halt, then the toccata of high heels, light and even as castanets. They all turned as Victoria ushered Judith into the room.

       Shannon was struck again, as she always was, at the unaccountable style and flair of Judith’s clothes. There was a rumor that Judith had once been romantically involved with an English earl, a close relative of the Queen.

       Judith flashed Shannon one of her dazzling smiles as she walked slowly forward. ”You look absolutely ravishing!“ Judith said in her throaty English voice. ”And that marvelous dress is so stunning.“

       Shannon was pleased, but was uncomfortably aware of her bare feet on the rough texture of the stool. Judith wore a pair of highly polished calfskin boots.

       ”What kind of jewelry do you intend to wear, my dear?“

       Victoria went to the dresser and opened a rosewood jewelry box. ”This cameo,“ she said, holding it up. ”It belonged to Shannon’s mother.“

       Judith hesitated, then reached inside the upturned collar of her blouse. Light from the window reflected from the jewel’s green depths as she opened the clasp, then fastened it around Shannon’s neck. ”The exact color of your eyes. How remarkably marvelous you look! Like a fairy princess, or more like a real one, I should say.“

       ”It’s beautiful! But I would never be able to replace it if something happened.“

       Judith gave an indifferent wave with her hand. ”It wasn’t that expensive to begin with, and besides, I’m not loaning it to you. It’s a gift.“

       ”I can’t accept this. It’s too much!“

       ”Nonsense! It’s nothing special, though there is something special about it. Here, let me show you.“

       Cool fingers brushed against Shannon’s skin as Judith lifted the stone and turned it between thumb and forefinger. The small gold knob came out of the setting. A delicate musk-like perfume was immediately noticeable.

       ”There’s a tiny hole in the top. You can scarcely see it unless you look under a strong light. It holds a small amount of perfume made from flowers found only in the Hindu Kush. Its vapors are said to be an aphrodisiac.“

       ”Thank you,“ Shannon murmured softly.

       Judith refastened the jewel in its setting and stepped back. ”Oh, I almost forgot. I have another gift for you.“ She picked up a package she had placed on the end of the bed and presented it to Shannon. She tore at the wrapping, then stared in fascination at the cover. It was The Book of Proper Behavior and the author was Lady Alexis Crowell. Godey’s Ladies Book had reported that the royal family in London had a copy and consulted it frequently. Shannon was astounded.

       ”Where did you get this? I can’t believe it!“

       ”I have my ways,“ Judith said mysteriously. ”I usually get what I want.“

       ”I’m so pleased. I never thought I would have a copy of this.“ She hugged the book to herself. ”May I get down, ma’am?“ she asked Miss Dreadmore.

       ”You may not. Rachel has spent the last hour trying to pin that impossible material.“

       Judith’s eyes swept Shannon from head to toe, then stopped on the jewel suspended between her breasts.

       Miss Dreadmore saw the direction of Judith’s gaze. ”Cotton Lowery will love that.“

       Shannon had a sudden vision of Lowery bending toward her, his mustache brushing her cheek. She tossed her head and looked away.

       Judith smiled mysteriously. ”All he thinks about is business. Shannon is in love. Can’t you see it in her face?“

       Shannon’s heart came up in her chest with a lurch, and stayed there, bumping against the base of her throat. When she finally risked a look at Judith, there was the smallest hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth and a tiny mocking light in her eyes.

       ”Thank you for everything,“ Shannon said quickly, to hide her confusion.

       Judith held up the palm of her hand as she turned toward the door. ”I can see myself out quite nicely, thank you. I know you’re busy and there isn’t much time before the party.“

       Shannon nodded in reply and smiled, but her face felt stiff. She knows Spence is back! The thought sent her heart racing. Across the room the mirror mocked her. She felt as if her face was aflame but was relieved to see that her reflection revealed nothing.

       Victoria lay among a sprawl of petticoats across the four-poster bed, her attention focused on the book Judith had brought ”Listen to this, Shannon. It says that in London and New York, every young lady of society leads the first dance at her coming-out ball.“

       ”This is hardly a society ball,“ Shannon said, suddenly tired of the whole thing. If it were within her power, she would have canceled the party without any regrets.

       ”Not as great a party, perhaps, as we would have had at Woodlawn, but there will be a lot of important people here. Just as important as anyone in Savannah, Tennessee.“

       Shannon pulled at the bodice of her dress and hitched herself higher.

       ”Miss Shannon,“ Rachel complained again.

       ”Read some more,“ Shannon said. ”Does it say anything about sending out the invitations?“

       ”Everyone in a hundred miles will be here,“ Rachel said. ”Why do you need invitations?“

       Victoria gave her an indignant look. ”To make people know they’re welcome.“

       ”Welcome!“ Rachel snorted. ”You would have the same chance of holding back a buffalo stampede.“

       Victoria propped herself up on one elbow. ”Listen to this, Shannon. Lady Alexis says, ‘In New York it is proper and customary for the young lady’s beau to steal a kiss during the dance. This is an informal announcement to other prospective admirers that a special relationship exists between the two.’ “

       Victoria looked up at Shannon. Her excitement faded as she saw the look of anguish on Shannon’s face.

       ”When I was a girl in Ireland it was much the same,“ Rachel said. ”When you were kissed by your beau in public, you wanted the whole world to know and you kissed him back. After that, everyone knew that you were his.“ She looked up at Shannon’s face.

       ”This is your eighteenth birthday. It is high time you found a young man. What did Miss Judith mean when she said you had someone special? Are you going to share the main dance with that nice Mr. Lowery?“

       ”With . . . With Mr. McClellan,“ Shannon faltered. ”After all, it’s his party, and as his ward, it’s only proper that I give him the honor.“

       Rachel got up from where she was kneeling and gave Shannon a reproving look.

       ”In Ireland all the girls who are too ugly to have a beau dance with their fathers. Just look at yourself! You are one of the prettiest girls in the whole territory.“

       Shannon tossed her head at the compliment, and looked at Victoria who was watching her carefully. ”Read some more,“ Shannon commanded, studying her image in the mirror.

       Victoria began to read again, but Shannon wasn’t listening. Her eyes went to the window where she could see the town and the faint outline of the Cattleman’s Hotel. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. Suddenly, she found herself running past a startled Victoria and down the hall to the safety of her room. She threw herself face down on the bed as scalding tears filled her throat.

       The door bumped, and a second later, Victoria’s hand was resting on her shoulder. ”Rachel didn’t mean anything,“ she said softly.

       An hour ago, it had been her secret, but soon the whole town would know. She tried to think rationally, but her mind kept veering back to one thought.

       He’s back! Spence is back.

       But for how long?

       She twisted her head away and clenched her hands into fists. Judith’s mocking smile floated before her eyes.

       Oh, I hate him! I hate him! I hate him so much I could die!

       In her dreams she had imagined a thousand ways in which she could avenge herself.

       And in a thousand others she had awakened, whispering to herself. Come back, Spence! You’ve got to come back.

       Suddenly she lay slack, unmoving, aware that Victoria was watching her anxiously. ”Spence is in town,“ she said softly, through lips that scarcely moved.

       ”Oh, good heavens!“ Victoria cried. ”Clay ran three bounty hunters off the north range yesterday. You don’t suppose they could be hunting for him?“

       Shannon felt as if she could not breathe. She ran the back of her hand across her mouth. It felt swollen and used. She shivered once, and then again. What if he was already dead? What if she never got to see him again?

        ”I hope they kill him!“ she heard herself say with a voice she barely recognized.

       Victoria jumped from the bed and glared at her. ”I hate it when you say things like that! You don’t mean it anyway.“

       ”I do mean it. I hate him!“

       Victoria rose to her full height. ”I’m going to warn him. Are you coming?“

       ”No! I hope they shoot him down like a dog!“

       ”Then stay here and snivel in your bed like an infant. I can’t understand how you can be so heartless. You’re in love with him and you know it!“ Victoria rushed from the room, banging the door across the hallway.

       Shannon let her head fall back on the bed, then rolled over on her face. ”Love him?“ she whispered, incredulously. ”I don’t! I’m not in love with him!“

       But as soon as Victoria was gone, she rolled toward the window and lay staring at the distant row of buildings.