Without waiting for Felicity and Cody to finish their task, Josh left, going into the barn to hitch up the spring wagon. Just as he slapped the team into motion, he caught a glimpse of the girl coming out of the wagon, Cody at her heels. He forced himself to keep going.

Felicity heard the wagon rumble by, but she refused to look up to see if he was watching her. She had more important things to do than to worry about Mr. Joshua Logan.

"Where's Cookie?" Felicity demanded in her no-nonsense-tolerated voice. "He's the one I'm going to do next!"

That, of course, caused quite a reaction, both among the men, who were delighted, and with Cookie, who wasn't really all that sure he wanted to get his picture made at all. Everyone seemed to forget that Mr. Logan had left. Everyone except Felicity.

Josh managed to find a place on the busy street in front of the mercantile in which to squeeze his wagon. The town was bustling with activity from all the ranchers who had made the weekly trek in for supplies and socializing. Taking the steps up to the wooden sidewalk in one bound, Josh strolled into the store.

"Well, hello again, Mr. Logan," Mrs. Hankins called to him as he walked in the door. The storekeeper's wife waved him over to where she stood behind the counter waiting on a customer. When she finished, she turned to Josh. "How did your little houseguest like the clothes?" she inquired cheerfully.

"She liked them fine," Josh said tersely. Mrs. Hankins still believed, as Josh had led her to, that Felicity was a young girl. Somehow if he wanted her to take Felicity in, he would have to disabuse Mrs. Hankins of that notion.

"Did they fit her all right? I was so worried they'd be too big, but they were the smallest things we had ready-made…" Mrs. Hankins rattled on, to Josh's annoyance.

Fortunately, Mr. Hankins came in at that moment and rescued him.

"Yes, what are you going to do with the girl, Josh?" he asked.

Here it was, the perfect opportunity to make his request, but the words refused to come. "I'll take her over to Blanche Delano's in a day or two, when she's up and around," Josh said, wondering even as he spoke why it seemed important to give the impression that Felicity was still an invalid.

"Oh, that's a good idea," Mrs. Hankins confirmed. "Of course, you know Mrs. Delano is still in Dallas, but we expect her back early next week. I reckon by then the poor little thing will be able to travel. What did you say her name was?"

Josh was spared from answering when another customer came in and distracted Mrs. Hankins. He turned to Mr. Hankins. "Here's a few things I need," he said, handing the storekeeper a list. "I'll be back in a few minutes. My wagon is out front." With that, Josh turned and left before Mrs. Hankins could make any further inquiries about his "little houseguest."

When Josh came back about fifteen minutes later, having made a quick tour of the main street of town, he met Mr. Hankins, who was carrying out the last of his supplies. "Thanks," Josh said. "Put it on my account."

"Josh, wait a minute. There's something I need to tell you," Hankins said, stopping Josh just as he was about to mount the wagon seat.

The urgent tone of the man's voice raised the hairs on Josh's neck. Turning warily, Josh braced himself for the first ugly gossip about him and Felicity.

"There was a man in the store yesterday asking about you," Hankins said, pulling a bandana out of his back pocket to wipe his forehead. "A colored man. He wanted to know where your ranch was and how to get out there."

Josh saw nothing ominous in such an event. "Was he looking for a job?" Josh asked.

Hankins's expression remained grim. "I don't think so. Remember I said he was a colored man? He was tall, real tall, even taller than you, and he… he asked about Candace."

"Candace?" Josh echoed, completely puzzled.

"Yes, he wanted to know if Candace still worked for you. He described her and everything. That's what made it stick in my mind, the way he described her as being so tall. It made me look at him close and, by God, if he didn't look like her, too."

Josh considered this. "How old a man was he?"

"I couldn't rightly say. With some folks, it's hard to tell. He had old eyes, if you know what I mean, and silver-gray hair, but he didn't seem all that old."

"He might be some kin to her," Josh said. Back in Virginia, Candace had been owned by the Logan family, who had presented her as a gift to Josh's mother when she married his father. Candace would have had lots of kinfolk back on the old Logan plantation. Since the war had destroyed the plantation, they were now all scattered. One of them must have found his way to Texas. "I reckon he'll show up out at our place soon," Josh said with a smile.

"No, you don't understand, Josh," Hankins said, gripping Josh's arm anxiously. "He wasn't asking nice. He was mean, clear to the bone. It was almost like…" He trailed off uncertainly.

"Like what?"

"Like he wanted to do Candace some harm." The storekeeper shrugged apologetically, realizing his statement was somewhat melodramatic but unwilling to amend it.

"Who would want to hurt Candace?" Josh asked, incredulous.

"I think this fellow might."

Josh could only stare at him. Josh had known Hankins for a long time and he was not easily spooked. "Have you seen this fellow around town today?"

Hankins shook his head. "I think he slept at the livery last night. Maybe you can pick up his trail there."

"Thanks," Josh said, turning toward the livery stable.

"Good luck," Hankins called after him.

Josh spent another hour in town, questioning first the livery stable attendant and then most of the other merchants, but the man had disappeared. Not even the bartender had seen him that day. Defeated, Josh returned to his wagon, having decided he should return to the ranch as soon as possible to tell Candace about the mysterious stranger. Perhaps she would know who he was.

Asa Gordon read over the note he had just written. He did not like the message it contained, but he would have to send it anyway. The news that Felicity Storm had disappeared- yet again-would please no one, least of all his client. Unfortunately, part of his job was filing reports, even when they were unsatifactory.

He folded this report carefully and stuffed it into an envelope.

"Alexander!" he called. A moment later a harried-looking young man came into Asa's office. "Would you see that this is delivered immediately?" he asked, scrawling a name and address on the envelope and then handing it to his secretary.

"Yes, sir," Alexander muttered, carrying the message out of the room.

When the door had closed behind the boy, Asa allowed himself a weary sigh. Papers. Messages. Reports. Meetings. Was that all he had left to look forward to? The thought depressed him.

He glanced out the window at the busy street below, but his mind was far away, in Texas with the elusive Miss Felicity Storm. For a few minutes he envied operative Smythe his opportunity to explore the wilds of Texas on this difficult quest.

Smythe was one of his best men. If Smythe couldn't find her, she simply wasn't there. Asa knew this. Still, he could not ignore his own pride, which reminded him he had once been one of the "best men," too. If he should go to Texas, if he should look for Storm and the girl…

Was there any reason why he shouldn't?