Relentless by Bobbi Smith

tonight. Unable to bear his loneliness any longer, he sought Fred out and told him that he would be back in a little while. Then he left the hall. He knew that as long as the Randolphs were there, Dusty would be safe.
    He headed straight for the saloon.
    He had some heavy drinking to do.
    “There he is—” Francie whispered to Dusty a short time later, her heartbeat quickening as she caught sight of Rick Washburn.
    “That’s your banker?” Dusty asked eagerly as she studied the darkly handsome, well-dressed man.
    “Yes,” her friend replied dreamily as she watched him across the room.
    “He is good-looking,” Dusty agreed.
    “And he’s going to be mine, so don’t go getting any ideas,” Francie declared, staking out her territory.
    Dusty only laughed at her friend. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
    “Well, you do look awfully pretty tonight—”
    “Thanks to you.”
    They shared a laugh together just as their favorite dance—the “ladies’ choice”—was announced.
    Dusty looked at her friend encouragingly. “Hurry! Go get your Rick before one of the other girls does!”
    “ ‘My Rick’—” Francie repeated. “I like the sound of that.” She didn’t need any more encouragement. She hurried off to claim him for the dance.
    Dusty watched as Francie approached the banker. She was delighted to see that he smiled down at her friend and quickly took her up on her offer. She knew Francie was in heaven as she watched her move about the dance floor in his arms. He seemed quite taken with her, and Dusty couldn’t wait to talk to her friend later and hear all the details.
    Dusty thought about asking someone to dance, but just then she caught sight of the elderly town matrons seated across the room, watching the couples on the dance floor. Her mother had been good friends with the white-haired, portly Miss Gertrude Stevens so she sought her out for a visit.
    “Dusty, darling, it is so good to see you,” Miss Gertrude told her, reaching out to take her hand and draw Dusty down to sit on the seat beside her.
    “It’s good to see you, too, Miss Gertrude,” Dusty responded with heartfelt enthusiasm.
    “You look very pretty this evening,” the older woman complimented her.
    Dusty actually blushed a bit, knowing it was high praise coming from Miss Gertrude. “Thank you. Francie helped me get ready. She did a fine job on my hair, don’t you think?”
    “Yes, she did,” Miss Gertrude said approvingly.“We were all just saying how glad we are that you finally managed to be in town for a dance so we could visit with you. Isn’t that right, Betty?” Miss Gertrude turned to a friend who was sitting on the opposite side of her.
    “That’s right.”
    “So why didn’t you claim one of these handsome young men for the dance?” Miss Gertrude asked.
    Dusty smiled. “Because I wanted to visit with you.”
    “Well, I’m glad you did.”
    “We’ve been missing you and wondering how you’ve been doing,” Betty put in. “How are you?”
    “Papa and I are doing fine.”
    “It’s a shame your father can’t find some other way to make a living,” Betty criticized. She was known as a woman who always said what she thought. “It just doesn’t seem civilized for you to be out riding around all the time, dressed like a boy.”
    Dusty couldn’t help smiling. Betty didn’t know the half of what went on during the stagecoach runs, and she wasn’t about to tell her. “There are difficult times, but we manage. And, honestly, I can’t imagine my father doing anything else.”
    “I know,” Miss Gertrude sympathized. “Your mother used to say the same thing about him. He’s a man who loves adventure.”
    “Yes, he is,” Dusty agreed, and she realized then that she truly was her father’s daughter. As much as she’d enjoyed dressing up that evening and attending the dance, she honestly felt more like herselfwhen she was working with her father on the stage. She glanced around, realizing then