The barber and his customer were speaking in more confidential tones.

Winn was paying little attention to either conversation until he heard thebarber say, "blind man." It seemed to hang in the air as the otherconversation died away.

The customer in the chair didn't seem to notice the quiet.

"Wasn't that the Frank" -- "Say, Phillips," interrupted one of the men from the corner.

"What do you think about this railroad?"

If the barber minded having the topic of discussion changed, he didn't show

it. He began to expound at length on the benefits of the railroad.

The man in the chair tried to interrupt with his objections but had little

success. Finally Phillips ended with, "What's good for the town will be good for us all."

He must have finished the haircut the same time he finished the speech.

Winn heard the snap of a cloth being shaken and the creak of the chair as the

customer rose.

"I hope all that new business will bring in another barber," he grumbled.

"Then you might have to lower your prices." The man sounded serious to Winn,

but everyone else laughed.

As the customer left, the barber came toward Winn, his footsteps drowned outby the sound of the door. He leaned toward Winn and nearly shouted,"Ready for you now."Winn was sure he jumped six inches. One of the men in the corner said, "He's blind, not deaf, Phil- lips." The other man laughed.

Phillips mumbled an apology as he led Winn to the chair and awkwardly helped him into it.

"In fact," said the man who had laughed, "I hear it works the other way." He

walked across the room, his spurs jingling almost like bells as they hit the floor. He brought the smell of cigar smoke with him.

"I've

heard that if you lose your sight your hearing gets better."

"I haven't noticed that it has," Winn said. He wished the two men would leave. The foolish barber hovering over him was bad enough without anaudience besides.

"Well, Phillips here probably undid all that just now, yellin' in thefella's ear." This came with a laugh from the man in the corner.

"That's enough now, Bert. I didn't yell, I just startled him. Why don't yougo hang around somewheres else?"

"Well, I was going' to get my hair cut," said Bert, stomping across the room,"but it'll likely all turn gray afore you get round to me."

An uncomfortable silence followed the slam of the door. Phillips filled itas quickly as he could by asking Winn what he could do for him. Winn asked for a trim and, since he normally cut his own beard, he tried to tell thebarber what he was used to doing. He realized that he probably sounded veryfussy to the other two men.

As Phillips began to cut, Winn listened to the man with the cigar. He was still standing. He could hear his spurs as he moved around some.

Spanish spurs, probably, with large row els. The man stayed near the doorand Winn guessed there was a window there. Perhaps the man was also waitingfor a haircut and was as angry at losing his turn as the one who had left.He might be watching for someone; perhaps he had a limited amount of time tospend here.

Winn hated getting special treatment. In the army some of his fellowofficers had expected it, even demanded it. It had always embarra.s.sed Winn.For an officer during a war, however, it was sometimes necessary. This was not. He felt like he should apologize to the man who was waiting, but hehadn't asked for it, and an apology would embarra.s.s the barber even more.

The barber, who had talked so freely to the last customer, was quiet now.

He cleared his throat occasionally as if he wanted to say something but henever spoke beyond instructions to turn this way or that. Once he told Winn to look up. He cleared his throat twice after that.

Finally he was satisfied and removed the cloth from Winn's shoulders.

He lifted something from the counter and, clearing his throat, set it downagain. Winn thought he heard a ghost of a chuckle from the cigar smoker.

Winn paid with a coin and was pocketing the change when the door opened.

"It's your young friend," the barber said, as if he was talking to atwo-year-old.

"He'll help you now." Winn mumbled his thanks and followed Peter out of the shop.

As the door closed behind them, Phillips sighed with relief.

"I'm sure sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Dempsey, but I just didn't know whatto do, that boy leading him around and coming back for him and all."

"No problem," Kyle said. He let the curtain drop across the window andstepped toward the chair.

"If you hadn't done it, I would have." He was glad to get Sutton out of thatshop as soon as possible. He didn't want anyone else to know that Cynthiehad a man living in her house. Even if he had gotten his

own haircut first, he would have hung around the shop until Sutton was gone. He would never have left the men alone to talk about whatever they chose.

He looked at his reflection in the large mirror over Phillips's counter.

His dark blond hair barely showed a need for a trim but that was the way heliked to keep it. He gave Phillips's reflection a smile and eased into thechair.

From the window he had seen Cynthie and the child waiting at the wagon.

The Merlin boy would probably get them out of town soon. Maybe a casualobserver would think that the stranger was another hired hand.

Kyle didn't really believe it, but anything was better than having thedrifter's living arrangements openly discussed in the barbershop. He still couldn't believe Cynthie would be so foolish.

He felt lucky to have been here when that old man recognized Cynthie's son.It was also lucky he knew of Phillips's proclivity toward expounding on therailroad. Yes, he had defused this situation pretty well. He'd have to ride out to the ranch and convince Cynthie that the man was well enough to move on. There was no doubt that Sutton was the reason his last visit with Cynthie had been so short. She was overworked and trying to do something shewasn't qualified to do. Two more reasons for the man to leave.

Kyle relaxed in the barber chair and closed his eyes. He was confident he could convince Cynthie to see things his way.

Chapter Six.

^a7PS^From the wagon seat Cynthie watched Peter cross the streetto the barbershop. Greg was behind her, trying to move the purchases aroundto make room for Winn. He had refused to go to the barbershop with Peter butwouldn't say why. Now he chattered about the lunch they would eat on the wayhome and how Winn would like the candy he had picked out for him. He announced proudly that he had gotten extra candy because Mr. Ott had been inthe store. Cynthie wondered how Mr. Ott ever got his work done when itseemed he was always in town.

She looked across the street, and all her irritation at Ott was forgotten.

Peter was leading Winn out of the shop and onto the boardwalk. Peter seemed so young to Cynthie, but he walked with an air of confidence, unembarra.s.sedby the big man's hand on his shoulder. He said something and they stoppedfor a moment to let a wagon pa.s.s before star ting across the street.

Peter had chosen his path carefully to avoid the worst ruts in the street,but even so, Cynthie realized, it was a dangerous place for Winn. He was nearly across the street before she stopped worrying that he might fall andbegan really loo king at him.

He walked behind Peter and a little to the right but stood a good head tallerthan the youth. He had left his hat in the wagon and the sun warmed hisface, bringing color to his pale cheeks. The wind tousled his shortened curls and blew a lock across his forehead. He walked with his head up,trusting Peter's lead--or at least appearing to.

Peter brought him to the wagon and went to see about the horses. Greggreeted his friend by leaning over the sideboard and throwing his arms aroundhis neck. Winn hugged back, bracing himself against the wagon.

Cynthie watched from her seat above them and tried to read the emotions onWinn's face.

He looked tired and strained. Evidently he hadn't had an easy time of it.

He hugged Greg with such a fierceness that she could almost believe he wasgetting back from Greg some of the comfort he had given on the ferry ride.

Surely a trip to the barbershop couldn't have been that bad.

As Winn loosened his hold on the small boy, the tension eased. Greg pulledaway and held the bearded face in his hands. Standing in the wagon put Gregat about eye level with Winn.

"Did you like getting your hair cut?"

Winn grinned at the boy's question.

"It was pretty itchy," he said.

Cynthie experienced a pang of jealousy. They each sought help from theother, and they left her out completely. She was being unreasonable, shethought.

Greg didn't leave her out, and she wasn't jealous of their relationship.

But if she was going to be honest with herself, she had to admit she wasindeed feeling jealousy of a sort. She sat there and watched Winn wrap hisarms around Greg, knowing how good it always felt to hold the small warm bodyagainst her own. But what she wanted was to be in Greg's place. She could feel her cheeks growing warm at the thought and comforted herself with theknowledge that Winn, at least, couldn't see them.

She wondered if she had made some small noise because Winn chose that moment to turn toward her. He was still smiling, his dimples easily visible beneaththe newly trimmed beard. She watched the wind dance in his hair, his lockshighlighted by the sun's kiss.

"Am I more presentable, ma'am?"

Cynthie swallowed hard. How could she answer that question without let tinghim hear a tremor in her voice?

"Hmm," she said, pretending to think it over.

The dimples deepened.

"Now remember, it was your idea."

She realized with a feeling of wonder how easily she could fall in love withhim. She couldn't watch him with her son and not be fond of him.

She was certain that he was more of a friend to the boy than Victor wouldever have been.

But also, she couldn't be near him and not feel a strong physical attraction.Although she knew from experience that those feelings only led todisappointment, it didn't seem to help. At some point, she had stoppedreminding herself that such thoughts were inappropriate.

He was still facing her, more serious now, waiting for an answer. Verysoftly she said, "You look wonderful, Winn."

If he was startled, he covered it well.

"Thank you, ma'am," he said, grinning at her.

"Ready," Peter said, startling them both. Winn turned toward the back of the wagon and Cynthie turned toward the front. She tried to pull herselftogether. How could she let the man do this to her? She glanced behind her.How could she not?

She hardly noticed when Peter climbed aboard and started the wagon movingtoward the ferry. She was lost in thought when a wheel hit a particularlylarge rut and sent her rocking into Peter.

"Whee," yelled Greg from the back. She heard Winn's answering chuckle andfelt herself growing warm again.

The ferry was ready when they arrived and Peter began unhitching the horsesas soon as he had helped Cynthie down. She walked to the back of the wagonwhere Winn and Greg were climbing out.

"Winn says he'll hold me again," Greg announced. He didn't seem at all frightened.

"Perhaps you should sit on the wagon as we cross," Cynthie suggested.

"You won't have to worry about falling, that way."

"That's a good idea, ma'am," Winn answered. It probably was, from her pointof view. He would be holding her baby, after all. But he hated boats and he hated wagons on boats even more. He decided he didn't want to tell her that.

Greg had found something to look at. Winn listened to him humming a shortdistance away. As Peter and the ferryman began pushing the wagon onto theferry, Greg moved closer to Winn. By the time all was ready for them to comeaboard, the little boy was once again clinging to Winn's hand.

"Come on, son." Winn lifted the boy into his arms. He didn't seem quite asfrightened this time. Perhaps knowing ahead of time how he was going tohandle the ride made the difference.