Hel Morgan

Five

"Do you expect me to believe that you don't know?" Staring at each other, the two men silently called a truce on hostilities. Mandel shrugged.

"I have an interest in how things turned out, so yes... I received regular updates on your two-year manhunt."

Hel leaned forward, willing to sue for peace.

"I couldn't look you in the eye until I caught him, Mister Grayson. It had to come first."

"The Morgan sense of justice strikes again," eyeing him, Mandel snorted. "I know all about your 'code of morality' if you will. Elisabeth had a way with words."

"She wrote you?" It sounded stupid, but Hel knew the old man understood him. She wrote to you about us, is what he meant.

"Eloquently."

"I did a lot of things wrong," Hel admitted quietly. "If I could change it, I would, but looking back don't hoe a straight line. It wasn't my fault she died, but... it sure enough is my fault for how it was between us at the end."

Muscles bunched and ticked beneath Grayson's jaw, his eyes turning to stone beneath low brows.

"How was it, Morgan?"

Hel told him. Straightforward, not sidestepping or excusing anything he'd said or done. When finished, he just waited, watching a myriad of emotions flood the old man's face.

"She was just like her mother, you know," the thick admission was unexpected and Morgan sat up straighter. "Independent, proud, but full of such passion, such devotion,"

"I never had the pleasure,"

"You wouldn't have. My wife was very ill during your courtship and was near the ocean for her health. Had she been here, she never would have allowed our daughter to marry you. She would have forbidden it."

"Sir-"

"It wouldn't have stopped Elisabeth, of course, she would have run away with you if the need had arisen." Lifting the lid on the cigar box, Grayson flipped it around and offered Hel one. "I knew how much Elisabeth loved you, regardless of what I had to say about it."

"Is she home? I feel like I should tell her myself-"

"She's resting. Her health is quite delicate."

"I'm sorry." Hel meant it, tapping the end of the cigar on his palm. "I should have protected Elisabeth, and I failed."

"If money was the trouble, all you had to do was-"

"No." It was like a thunderclap. "No, Mister Grayson. A man's got his pride, and livin' on handouts from his wife's kinfolk wouldn't sit well on my mind. I can make my own way in the world."

"But not well enough to provide my daughter with what she really wanted."

It cut him, and Hel's gaze dropped to the cigar he'd not yet lit. He wasn't a good provider. Not a good protector. Which made him not much of a husband. All that was left was a gunhand, and the skill to use it.

"You're right." His confession came with a bitter smile. "She never should have married me. You'd still have her, and probably some grandbabies to bounce on your knee, and I'd be a forgotten memory. It would have been better that way,"

Mandel Grayson wanted to be satisfied with Morgan's guilt. He wanted to let him suffer, writhing like a worm on a hook, but couldn't. Sighing heavily, he offered a clipper to Hel, then struck a match for him to light the cigar before sitting back.

"I'm glad she didn't." Green eyes shot to his but he held up a hand. "There are two kinds of living, Morgan. One where you move through life, your glow steady but dim. Most people choose that path.

"The other kind, you burn hot and bright, a spark in the night, a flash in the pan, but for those few, brief moments, you really live. Elisabeth wouldn't have been happy with anything less. She didn't live long, nor experience all life had to offer, but the time she had... she wouldn't have given it up for anything."

"How do you know?"

"I told you," smiling around his cigar, Grayson puffed contentedly. "She was an eloquent writer."

"I'm real sorry about what happened."

"It's alright, son." Moisture glinted briefly in the old man's eyes. "You didn't kill her, and you got the man that did. That's enough for me."

Smoking in silence for a while, the two relaxed until Benson came in with a pot of hot coffee and two cups. They waited until he was gone.

"What's next, Morgan? I heard you gave up your badge."

"That life is all I know," He spoke with a shrug as he set the cigar in the offered ashtray, picking up his coffee cup. "I didn't wear it because I didn't care if I broke the law hunting Luke Skye, but now? I ain't fit for much else, sir."

"If you want a more secure position, with perhaps a more flexible income, I can make a few inquiries."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because, some other woman is going to get a hold of you someday and I want to honor my daughter's memory by ensuring you do justice in your next marriage." Hel coughed into his cup, flushing red as Mandel smiled. "If a badge is what you want."

"It's what I know, what I'm good at."

"Well then," opening another drawer, Grayson pulled out a map and flipped it open, spreading it over his desk. Hel leaned forward, curious, then impressed. It was a detailed map of the country, and Grayson pointed out a few places Morgan knew well. "I have connections with the governors of these three territories, and several United States marshals here, here, and here."

Hel's gaze was drawn to Texas, focusing on where Grayson's finger was resting, but he wasn't seeing the point on the map. For some reason, a pair of warm brown eyes rose in his memory, followed by a welcome, understanding smile. Lifting his gaze, he fixed Grayson solidly.

"I don't figure to owe account to anyone for my life, so no matter who my next bride might be, you'll not have a say one way or the other. Ken?"

"Of course. Your choice won't diminish my daughter's memory in any way."

"I like Texas," Hel offered slowly, not sure of the thought forming in his mind. "It suits me."

"San Antonio? Galveston perhaps?"

"I was thinkin' farther south, maybe near the ocean, but... I think I have a stop to make first. I'd be obliged if I can let you know in a few weeks."

"At your leisure, Morgan."

"Thanks," he started to rise, then paused, uncertain. "For everything. You surely didn't have to be so kind."

"I've got nothing against you as a man, Morgan, I just didn't think you were right for my daughter." Standing, he offered a hand and they shook. "Let me know what you decide."

"I will, thanks again."

Back in the saddle, Hel pointed the buckskin's ears west. He was heading to Texas, specifically El Paso. Reckoning he'd have to do some dickering and make a lot of compromises, Hel told himself that wouldn't in itself be a bad thing. If she was willing to give him a chance, his future wasn't sewn up in bullets and blood. Vengeance wasn't all he had to live for, and he wasn't even forty yet. Why, plenty of men he knew didn't tie the knot until well past his age!

Rehearsing what he'd say, Hel didn't realize he was planning for a future with love in it. All he really thought about was how content he'd been listening to her talk, and how easy it had been talking to her. Straightening in the saddle, he adjusted his collar and hat.

"Don't put the cart ahead of the horse, old son, she has no idea you're even coming her way."