Jess frowned. Was he supposed to wash the boy? He’d set out soap and a pan of water for him in the kitchen, wasn’t that enough?

“Humph! I thought so.” Alma’s lips drew together in a tight pucker. “The good people of Walker aren’t going to stand by and let your sister’s children fall to ruin, Jess Logan. You best remember that.”

She pushed past him and into the mercantile. Through the window, Jess saw her huddled together with Emma Turner. He knew they were talking about him.

Well, damned if he cared. Jess strode off down the street, a knot hardening in his belly.

“Those two old biddies can talk all they want,” Jess said to Jimmy. “They made up their minds about me, anyway. A long time ago.”

As they passed the Green Garter Saloon a hand reached out. Jess spun around and grabbed his Colt Peacemaker on his thigh.

“Whoa, there!” The saloon keeper threw up both hands and laughed heartily. “Pretty fast on the draw. I guess what they said about you is true, Jess.”

He relaxed marginally and glared at the barrelchested man with the bushy mustache.

“Don’t tell me you don’t remember me, after all that liquor I slipped you and Nate when you were kids.”

“Saul?”

He laughed again and patted his round belly. “That’s right. Come on inside and have a drink.”

Jess holstered his gun and nodded toward Jimmy. “I got the boy here.”

“Won’t take a minute. Sit over here, son.” Saul pointed to the wooden bench alongside the saloon and urged Jess inside. “We’ve got some catching up to do.”

Jess looked back over his shoulder at Jimmy swinging his feet, still eating licorice. “You stay put.”

A couple of men sat in the corner, but Jess didn’t recognize them. More new faces in the town he used to call home. He edged up to the bar.

“Bring back some memories?” Saul slid him a beer.

Jess looked at the faded picture over Saul’s head, the dusty shelves and the scarred floor. “Nothing much has changed.”

“Seen the Vernon brothers since you’ve been back?”

“Are they still around?”

“Shoot, yeah. And you’ll be glad to know they ain’t changed a whit.” Saul leaned his elbows on the bar. “Remember the time you and the Tompkins boy got drunk—well, hell, I guess you weren’t ever in the place that you weren’t drunk—and you climbed up on the bar here and shot out the lights in the store across the street. Then the two of you took off out of here when the sheriff came in, and ran smack into Mrs. Murray and knocked her right into the horse trough. Lordy, I thought I’d bust a gut laughing.”

Jess leaned on the bar and chuckled at the memory. “How is old Mrs. Murray, anyway?”

Saul’s face grew solemn. “She passed away a couple of years back.”

Jess averted his eyes and sipped his beer.

“Sorry to hear about your sister. She was a good woman, teaching at the school, fending for herself and those kids all alone. Everybody in town thought the world of her.” Saul laughed again and chucked Jess on the arm. “Fact is, couldn’t nobody figure how she ended up with a no-account fellow like you for a brother.”

Jess shifted uncomfortably and drained his glass. “I got to be on my way, Saul. Thanks for the beer.” He . tossed coins on the bar.

“keep your money.” Saul pushed the coins back at him. “Having you in town again is going to send my profits right through the roof!”

Jess pulled his Stetson lower on his forehead and left the bar, sucking in a big gulp of fresh air. Somehow, being in the Green Garter again seemed stifling.

The crowd on the street had picked up some. It was nearly noon and his belly reminded him of the meager breakfast he’d had; he’d lost most of his appetite cleaning strawberry jam off the table, chair, floor, Jimmy and himself.

He motioned to the child still seated on the bench. “Let’s go eat.”

With no desire to run into anyone else who remembered him, Jess chose the Blue Jay Cafe. It looked crowded and that was a good sign, so he went in and took a seat in the corner.

“Nice place,” he said to Jimmy as the boy climbed into the chair across from him. Jess looked around at the clean, orderly restaurant. “Don’t recall the last time I ate on a tablecloth.”

Jimmy squirmed onto his knees and said nothing.

Jess laid his Stetson on the chair beside him as the serving girl headed his way. A pretty woman, he decided, though he wasn’t usually partial to blondes. He preferred dark-haired women, with equally dark eyes. Round, soft women. Women like Sarah Wakefield. Now, there was a woman who could—

Jess plowed both hands through his hair. What was he doing, having such thoughts? About a teacher, no less. A prim and proper teacher.

His belly warmed suddenly, reminding him of the weeks he’d spent on the trail getting to Walker. Weeks of hard riding, with no stops for taking care of life’s necessary pleasures. He wondered if Miss Flora still had her parlor house at the edge of town. He needed to pay her a call soon. Real soon.

“What are you two gents wanting today?”

The soft, feminine voice caused Jess to jump and he looked up at the blond woman standing over his table; for a moment he imagined she could look straight through him and see what he really wanted. She was shapely, maybe twenty-three, and had a pretty smile.

“Jimmy likes the chicken.” She smiled down at him and tickled the boy’s chin. “You must be Cassie’s brother. I’m Kirby Sullivan. Welcome to Walker.”

She was the first person to utter those three words to him, and they sounded good. Jess got to his feet and introduced himself; he accepted her condolences when she offered her sorrow over his sister’s death.

“Jimmy used to stay with us while Cassie taught school. I live just down the road from the schoolhouse with my folks. We miss having Jimmy around.” Kirby fluffed the boy’s hair and he pulled away. “Nate told me you two used to be friends.”

“You know Nate Tompkins?”

“Sure. You ought to stop by and see him while you’re in town. He’s at the jail.”

Jess chuckled. “Jail, huh? That figures.”

Kirby smiled gently. “Nate’s the deputy sheriff.”

“Nate? The deputy? Well, damn....” Jess shook his head. “I guess a lot of things really have changed in Walker.”

“Yes, and no one more than my Nate.” An easy smile crossed her face. “So, what do you say? How about the chicken plate?”

“Sounds good.” Jess eased into his chair and watched as Kirby disappeared into the kitchen. How could a worthless bastard like Nate Tompkins have gotten a fine-looking woman like her? His belly heated up again.

Trying to distract his thoughts, Jess turned back to Jimmy. “So, you like chicken, huh?”

Jimmy ignored him and fiddled with the silverware.

“I’ll bet your mama used to make the best chicken in the state. Even when we were kids, she was a good cook.”

Jimmy folded his hands on the table and laid his head down.

Jess sighed. “Come on, Jimmy. Talk to me.”

The boy looked up suddenly and stuck out his tongue.

Stunned, he felt a laugh slip out. “Well, I guess that’s a start,” Jess said.

A few minutes later when the food was served, Jess ate hungrily, satisfying at least one of his suddenly pressing needs. The food tasted delicious, a far sight better than his own cooking. He finished off his own plate and the remains of Jimmy’s, plus a thick wedge of apple pie and two cups of coffee.

“You might want to bring Jimmy over to the church. My papa preaches there. We always have children’s Bible study on Thursday nights.” Kirby took away their plates. “Bring Maggie, too.”

Jess rocked back in his chair and patted his belly. “I’ll see—Holy Jesus!”

He surged from the chair, nearly knocking the dishes from Kirby’s tray. Maggie. He’d forgotten Maggie’s lunch pail this morning. He’d been in such a rush it had completely slipped his mind. And surely this time that Mrs. Wakefield would go straight to the school board.