”“What?! Are you mad? Has something happened to you?”“No mom, I like seeing you bathing because I love you and I will not deny that.”“But ...on, you are my son. How can you presume this?”“I don’t know, mom. I just love you and want to do things to you.”Mom stayed still for a while and then left the room.The whole day, mom and brother did not cross paths. And I was asked to inform him that he needs to sleep in the living room that night. As the night came, I was sleeping beside mom. I suddenly. Of course white settlers had been moving in this direction for years. Decades, really.But Little River, like most of the Montana Territory was ... in between. Not yet settled down, but not the edge of the frontier any longer.Martin Bisbee, got to say this for him, did it the proper way. The polite, businesslike way. The owner of the Buffalo Cut Bar across Market Street from the Bighorn went to Mrs. Chambers first. Then to Ollie.The deal they worked out was that I would wrangle the rowdiness out. More

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