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It was clear that they didn’t think much of Fargo, who looked different from all of them. They were dressed in their Sunday best, while Fargo was in his buckskins. And while most of them were lean and fit from working their farms, there was something about Fargo’s build that suggested he knew how to handle himself in dangerous situations. And that he had, more than once.

Fargo had met Abby earlier, and she greeted him with a slightly worried smile.

“I’m glad you’re here, Fargo,” she said as they began the dance. “Jed could use a few more friends like you.”

There wasn’t time to say more, but Fargo knew what she meant. He’d talked to Jed and Lem about it the day before when he’d arrived at the farm. Kansas was in a turmoil because of the slavery issue. The free-staters were moving in and settling down, determined that there would be no slavery there, while the pro-slavery crowd was just as determined that Kansas would enter the union as a slaveholding state. The two groups had come into conflict, and the conflict had eventually become violent, with bloody clashes becoming more and more frequent, particularly in the eastern part of the state where the Watkins farm was located. The territorial government favored slavery and got the help of the United States Army to keep the free-staters under control, but the free-staters formed their own militia to fight back.

To make things worse, outlaw gangs, some of whom had been raiding the countryside for years, took advantage of the situation to increase their pillaging. They robbed and killed whenever and wherever they could while seeing to it that either the free-staters or the pro-slavery group got at least part of the blame for their crimes. It didn’t matter to the outlaws who got killed as long as their actions were thought of as patriotic by one side or the other, for the more fighting they could stir up between the two factions, the better it was for them.

Jed didn’t want to have anything to do with either side in the slavery fight, and he hated the outlaws. As he’d told Fargo, “All I want to do is settle down and be a farmer. I don’t want to have to carry a gun and be looking over my shoulder all the time.”

He didn’t sound quite convincing, and there was a shifty look in his eyes, as if he might have wanted to say more, but Lem Watkins was with them, and Jed deferred to him.

Lem Watkins felt pretty much as Jed said he did.

“A plague on all their houses,” Watkins said. “I’ve been a decent, hardworking man all my life. I don’t hold with slavery, but my hand fits a plow, not a gun. If people want to fight over who’s a slave and who’s free, let ’em do it somewhere else. Those other killers all just need hanging, and the sooner the better.”

Fargo could understand how Jed and his future father-in-law felt, but he knew things didn’t always work themselves out in a peaceful way. A man couldn’t always avoid a fight, no matter how much he might want to. Fargo didn’t particularly enjoy having to use his Colt, but he had, and more than once. He preferred to settle things without shooting, but one thing he’d learned in his travels was that there were times when you had to let a pistol do the talking. There were too many people who didn’t understand any other language. Jed knew that, too, as well as Fargo did, but maybe the idea of becoming a farmer had helped him forget it.

Fargo led Abby through the dance, which was some kind of a variation on the Virginia reel, and they were too busy to talk. When the dance was over, Abby’s face was flushed with exertion, and Fargo felt a little warm himself.

“Could we go outside and talk?” Abby asked.

“I’m not sure Jed would like that,” Fargo said. “He might get the wrong idea.”

Abby’s face got even redder. She said, “He knows me better than that.”

Fargo gave her a grin. “He knows me, too.”

“You men. That’s all you ever think about.”

“Nope,” Fargo said. “But it’s one of the things. Sometimes we’ve got to plan on what to have for supper.” This was enough to get a laugh out of her.

“Well, I don’t talk about it, not even to Jed. Now, can we please go outside? It’s important.”

“If you say so.”

They walked the length of the barn, and Fargo could feel the eyes of the young men on him. He knew everyone wondered why he and Abby were going outside, and he hoped they didn’t get the wrong idea. In spite of his earlier joking, he thought he knew what Abby wanted to talk about, and it had nothing at all to do with sporting around.

Not that he wouldn’t have liked to give Abby a tumble. She seemed a little more prim and proper than the women who Fargo usually liked, but that could be just a cover. You could never tell for sure just by looking.

Fargo put his impure thoughts out of his mind. Abby, after all, was marrying Jed, and Fargo was going to stand up with them as best man. He would never betray a friend.

They went out through the big barn doors, and Abby said, “We don’t have to go far. Nobody’s going to follow us.”

Fargo wasn’t too sure of that. Jed might take a notion to see what was going on, though Fargo hoped he wouldn’t.

The moon hung big and bright in the night sky, which was dotted with high, icy stars. There was a light breeze that fluttered through the cornfields beyond the barn.

“What did you want to talk about?” Fargo asked.

Abby looked off into the dark fields. “I said that Jed could use a few friends like you. Did you know what I meant?”

“There’s been some trouble around here, so I heard.”

“Trouble? Is that what you call it?”

“Can’t think of a better word,” Fargo said.

“Well, it’s worse than trouble. People are being killed and robbed every day. Some of them have had their houses burned.”

Fargo wanted to ask what that had to do with him, but he was afraid he already knew the answer.

“Jed and your father told me they didn’t have anything to do with the trouble around here.”

“I’m sure they did. As far as my father goes, that’s true. It’s not so true for Jed. He was just saying what my father wanted to hear.”

Fargo had been afraid that might be the case. Jed’s evident lack of conviction when they’d been discussing it had made him wonder. Jed hadn’t forgotten how people were, after all.

“So he’s been getting mixed up in things, has he?” Fargo said.

“You know him. Are you surprised?”

Fargo grinned. “Not much. Which side is he taking? Is he for a Free State or a slaveholding one?”

“Free, but that’s not the real problem around here.”

“What is, then?” Fargo asked.

“The Murray gang, that’s what. Have you heard of them?”

Fargo had heard of them, all right. You didn’t have to be where you got a newspaper every day to hear about the Murrays. Father, son, and daughter had joined together with a bunch of ragtag outlaws who killed as much for the fun of it as for the profit they might find.

“What does Jed have to do with the Murrays?” Fargo asked.

“He’s spoken out against them. He’s even tried to talk some of the farmers around here into forming a vigilance group to fight them.”

“Does your father know about this?”

“Jed doesn’t talk about it around him, but he hasn’t made a secret of the way he feels when he talks in town.”

“As long as Lem isn’t around.”

“That’s right. Jed doesn’t want him to get upset.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because he knows how Murray is. Most people who talk against him get their houses and crops burned. If they’re lucky.”