They were clearing tables left by the early customers when he walked in the door. Sophie paused and stared at him for a few seconds before announcing loud enough for him to hear, “I do declare, Martha, look who just walked in the door. Are my eyes deceiving me, or is that really John Hawk?” Martha didn’t reply, but paused in her work to form a big grin on her round face.

“Mornin’,” Hawk offered sheepishly. “I hope I ain’t too late for breakfast.” He wasn’t sure why he always turned bashful in the presence of Sophie Hicks. He wasn’t bashful around any other woman.

“Well, I reckon not,” Sophie allowed, still in a mood to tease. “Whaddaya think, Martha? You think you could take the time to scramble up some eggs for Mr. Hawk?”

“Course I can,” Martha said at once, not inclined to bedevil the tall young man who always wore a feather in his hat. After all, she thought, he had told her that she was the best cook in the whole territory. “You set yourself down right here and I’ll get you some coffee and have some breakfast for you in a jiffy.”

Sophie had to laugh. “You go ahead,” she said. “I’ll get his coffee for him.” He sat down at the table Martha had just cleared, and in a minute or two, he was joined by Sophie with his coffee and a cup for herself. “What brings you to our fair city this time?” she asked, remembering the last time he was in Helena he was involved in a shooting and left town almost as fast as he arrived. “Are you gonna be here awhile this time?”

“I don’t know,” he answered her question honestly. “I reckon I’ll have to wait and see.” She didn’t have to say anything; he could see in her expression that she decided he hadn’t changed. “I’d sure like to stay awhile, but I just can’t say yet. I’da been back sooner, but I had to do some scoutin’ for the army.” He hoped his face didn’t reveal what he was thinking when he looked at her. If ever I was to get married, it would be to a woman just like you, if she’d have me. Whenever thoughts of that nature entered his mind, he told himself he would never get married. He couldn’t. He had no steady job, he didn’t own a farm or a cattle ranch. He was just a drifter, so he attempted to put the idea out of his head. “I reckon I had to get back in town to see if you’d gotten married yet.”

“Ha!” she exclaimed. “Fat chance of that. I’m a little more particular about who I get tied to.” Too impatient to play the game any longer, she finally asked, “What are you really in town for?”