Lola was angry enough at finding Layla in Jackson's bed that she didn't even notice him call her Gertie.  Normally, the merest utterance of that hated name was enough to earn him a severe tongue lashing, but she had other, more pressing, matters on her mind tonight.  Realising she was showing signs of weakness, something she abhored, the distraught woman tried to get her whirling emotions under control.  Or, at the very least, stop this ridiculous sobbing! She fished a lacey hankerchief from her cleavage and patted her eyes dry.<br/><br/>By the time she was calm enough to explain, she was perched on the edge of the bed and Jackson had half smoked the remnant of his cigar.  She took a long, slow, calming breath, tried to organise her thoughts, and began.<br/><br/>"I don't know how...or why...but Desmond King, have you heard of him?"  Lola watched Jacskon for any sign that he recognised the name of the man who, in her estimation, was as notorious as the bounty he had just claimed.  "Desmond King has purchased the land that<em>Lola's</em>sits on, and is threatening to order the removal of the saloon.  MY saloon!! He says there are 'other options' and that he's certain we can 'work out some sort of bargain'.  As if I'd ever bargain with that desert rat,"  she spat, her ample breast heaving with emotion as her anger at King grew.  She paused momentarily to reign in her anger.<br/><br/>"Jackson," she whispered. "I'm scared. He's put the heavy on Bill....he owns the stockfeed...." Her bottom lip trembled slightly as she remembered the hopeless look on the face of the normally jovial man.  "And now he's doing the same to me.  What am I going to do?  I can't lose<em>Lola's</em>!"