Dr. Henry Branson and his right-hand man Harlan Van Deen made their way from the stables on Branson’s ranch to the large ranch house in the center of the complex. Both were silent. Dr. Branson stopped to survey the area around his ranch house in the faint morning light. He stood there a moment while he removed his thick leather gloves.

“Somethin’ wrong, boss?” Harlan asked.

Dr. Branson shook his head, “Naw, the ranch is just calm is all.”

“You don’t like killin’ do you.” Harlan said.

“Of course I don’t Harlan, I took an oath as a doctor. I have broken that oath now more than I can remember counting on both hands.”

“Well, the way I figure it, you had to. Who else would be willin’ to clean up those wizards’ messes? I’ll tell you who, nobody, that’s who.”

Branson nodded and then feigned a weak smile, “Poor, simple Harlan. It’s all black and white for you, isn’t it? Good versus evil et cetera then rinse and repeat.”

“I don’t know no other way.” Harlan agreed. “Are you satisfied we did the right thing?”

“I am my friend, but this is still something nagging at me, Harlan. I don’t know rightly what it is either. It’s just a nagging feeling we may have been too hasty in leaving that diabolist’s room before we were certain she was neutralized.”

“Neutralized?” Harlan snickered at the word.

“It means stopped, killed, out of the picture.” Branson said.

“I know that. It just seems a funny way of puttin’ it is all. Let me assure you that the girl was quite neutralized when we left her. I would worry about the wizard more, quite frankly.”

“I told you, the wizard was mortally wounded. There was no one around, he didn’t have a horse, and the blizzard would have frozen him if he tried to crawl away still clinging to life.”

“But, he is a wizard with magics we don’t understand, boss. Supposen he used it to heal himself?”

“I have never seen a wizard do that before. They can’t really heal themselves with their own magic. Using magic takes strength and he had none left. If he tried, the magic would hurt him more than help him.”

“Well, you know more about it than I do. How about we have some coffee? The morning is here.”

Branson nodded, “Sander is probably up by now. He looked to the kitchen window to his right. I see the kitchen light is lit. She probably has a pot on.”

The smell of brewing coffee was indeed thick in the air when Branson and Harlan entered the house. Branson took Harlan’s coat and hung it was his own on a hook near the entrance way of the back door. The kitchen was just a step through the archway.

“Uncle Henry is that you?” came a sweet voice from somewhere inside the kitchen.

“Yeah, Sander, Harlan, and me. Is that coffee I smell ready?”

“Two cups coming up. I was a bout to start breakfast, any requests?”

“Just coffee for now, Sander.” Branson said.

“I wouldn’t mind some breakfast.” Harlan said.

They both entered the kitchen, “I guess a couple of eggs each and some bacon and biscuits wouldn’t be too unwelcome.” Branson said.

Sander smiled with her big brown eyes and nodded. Her light brown hair was shiny in the gas lamp light. She almost looked younger than her twenty years in the boyish pants and flannel shirt she wore. Sander often wore pants and flannel in the winter months on the ranch. She said skirts were ridiculous in the cold, so Branson never questioned her on her attire. She looked very much like Branson’s dead wife because she was the daughter of his wife’s twin sister who was also a diabolist. She too was killed by the same wizard who killed Mrs. Branson. He had taken Sander in after that. He couldn’t bear thinking of her in an orphanage. Now she was twenty and unmarried. He often thought she should move on now that she was grown. She didn’t have to look after him anymore, but she insisted.

“When are you going to say yes to those pining boys, Sander?”

“Not this again, Uncle. You know I’m not ready to settle down.”

“But you’re a grown woman. You have no obligation to stay here with me.”

“I’ll marry her, Branson.” Harlan said.

“Shut up, Harlan. I wouldn’t let her run off with you if you were the last man available.”

“But…”

“Shouldn’t I be the one to decide that Uncle?”

“Hell no! Not when it comes to him!”

Sander chuckled, “I’m sorry, Harlan, but I think you are a bit old for me.” She sat down two cups of coffee on the table in front of the two men.

“Age is mind over matter. If you don’t mind it doesn’t matter.”

Branson decided he had better change the subject, “Are you still planning to go into town today?”

“Just after breakfast. Why do you ask? Did you need me to get you something?”

“Yes, Virgil has something ready for me at the blacksmiths. I will give you some gold if you pick it up for me and I will even let you keep the change.”

“Certainly, I would be happy to.”

“Good, it’s settled then. Harlan and I have been out all night and could use a nap.”

“Oh, Uncle, I shouldn’t have given you coffee then.”

“What, you still believe coffee keeps me awake? I will sleep like the dead.”

“If you say so uncle.” Sander said while going about her business.

****

Knox, Cain, and Isiah rode into the town of Henrietta just after noon. Loril remained at camp just outside of town. Henrietta was rumored by a stranger Knox met on the road headed east to be a place Branson frequented. It was possible Branson or some agent of his might be able to identify her as being alive and Knox certainly did not want that, so she stayed behind. Isiah had business with the blacksmith concerning his horse, so he left the group shortly after they arrived. Cain, being a cautious man, wanted to ride around the perimeter of the town for a good look, as he put it, leaving Knox to go to the general store on his own. He entered the Griffin’s Goods and Mercantile General Store with only a few provisions on his mind, nothing too pressing, just bacon, grease, flour, and maybe a few eggs if they were freshly collected that morning. He placed his order with the clerk and wandered around the store while the man collected his wares. It was only a moment after he was admiring the candy jars that a young, pretty woman with dark eyes and light brown hair stepped into the store.

“Ah, Ms. Rose. Good morning. I’ll be right with you,” The clerk greeted her.

“Jimmy, how many times have I told you to call me Sander? We have known each other since we were five years old.”

Jimmy looked up from wrapping up some bacon in butcher paper, “Yes, Ms. Rose, but as I have told you if Mr. Johnson hears me calling any customer by their first name, I will be in for a stern tongue lashing.”

“It seems like such a silly notion to be to be on a first name basis everywhere but here.”

“It’s my job, Ms. Rose and I plan to keep it.”

“Of course, Mr. Lonergan.”

“You may call me Jimmy, Ms. Rose. There is no rule against that.” He smiled. He turned to Knox, “Here you are sir. I have your order wrapped and ready.”

Knox walked up to the counter and stood only a few feet away from the pretty, young girl, He tipped his hat to her, and she nodded in acknowledgment, which was customary. “What do I owe you?”

“Three silver should cover it.”

“Three silver! Is that flour laced with gold flakes!”

Jimmy chuckled, “No sir, but that bacon might has well be. We have been having some supply issues in getting it of late.”

Knox opened his coin pouch and removed the coin. He handed it to the man and took the package.

“Pleasure doing business with you, sir.”

“Yes, pleasure.” Knox mumbled. “Ma’am,” he tipped his hat again. Sander responded again.

“So, what can I do for you Ms. Rose. Does your uncle need more tobacco already?”

“No, Jimmy, I have sworn Uncle Henry off the stuff for the time being. I am here for the groceries I ordered yesterday. Your boss said they would be here today.”

“Yes, we got a package this morning. Will it be under the name Rose or Branson?”

“Rose,” she said.

Knox froze at the name Branson. He turned to look at the young woman. She met his gaze and her smile turned into a frown, “Are you all right friend? You are turning pale.”

“I am fine.” He felt the standing bear Spell Node in his pocket move while he was under her intense gaze. He shifted the package in his arms, “I just almost dropped my groceries.” He smiled back at her now that her frown was gone. She turned back to Jimmy and Knox stepped out of the store with the knowledge of two facts: first, the girl was related to Branson, and two she was a powerful diabolist, strong enough to sense his Spell Node and even make it flutter in his pocket.