Torn

by Bluebird0032

Mark finds himself torn between his badge, his Pa, and the woman he loves. 3 part story, could come after "The Principle," But otherwise not connected to other stories.

1. Chapter 1

The hot New Mexico sun beat down on the tall, blond rancher as he wiped a well worn handkerchief across his forehead and once again put his hat back on his head. Looking up at the sky, the man figured they had about six more hours of daylight before they would have to call for camp. Turning his head at the sound of an upset horse, Lucas caught sight of his son just before Mark was sent tumbling to the hard, dusty ground. Digging his heels into Razor's flanks and weaving his way through the cattle, Lucas hurried towards his son as he called Mark's name.

"Mark, are you alright, Son?" The rancher dismounted and knelt beside his son as Mark lied on the ground in a daze. "Mark, can you hear me?" Lucas asked as he slowly helped his son sit up.

Shaking his head as he tried to get his bearings, Mark grabbed onto his Pa's arm to steady himself, waiting a brief moment before finally letting go. "Just a bit rattled is all. If this horse throws me one more time…"

"What are you going to do, walk?" Lucas chuckled as he helped Mark to his feet, noticing his son favoring his right leg. "You sure you're alright, Mark?"

"Yeah, I'll live. Riding Blue Boy my whole life I guess I forgot how gentle he is compared to other horses. Although this horse lacks a whole lot more than gentleness."

"This horse isn't used to cattle drives, either. At least Blue Boy will be waiting for you when you get back home."

"I could kick myself for riding home so late that night," Mark answered as he and Lucas mounted up again. "Then I wouldn't be riding ole Thumper. I should've stayed in town."

"I suppose it was just as well anyway; you know Nils said the leg had already been sprained. That last little trip just did him in, and better ten minutes from home than halfway to the middle of nowhere. That would've been one MORE thing to go wrong on this cattle drive."

"How's Sam doing? I saw him rubbing that shoulder of his not too long ago."

"He's hanging in there; I suggested he have a doctor look at it tonight, but he insists he's fine."

"If I didn't know any better I'd say the cattle and horses are conspiring against us."

"I don't have a doubt in my mind," Lucas replied with a chuckle, slapping his son's shoulder. "I'll cover the back for a while, why don't you ride farther up the line?"

"You sure that's good for you, Pa? I don't know if you need to be choking on all that trail dust."

"I'll be choking on it wherever I ride - and just what makes you think there's anything wrong with me?" Lucas asked with raised eyebrows and a defensive look in his eye.

"I hate to say it, Pa," Mark began with feigned seriousness, "But you're just not as young as you used to be. All those gray hairs are a big sign of a condition Doc calls… "aging"."

"And I wonder just how I happened to get all of these gray hairs?"

"Your memory must be going too, Pa. Don't you remember the day Lou came to town?"

"Get going." Lucas shook his head and grinned as he hit the rump of Mark's horse. "And keep an eye on Trouble; she's living up to the name you gave her!"

"That cow earned it!"

The afternoon wore on as cattle and horses picked their way through the barren land. The men softly hummed as they moved in and out of the herd, trying to keep the thirsty stock calm. As Mark worked the cattle, he was hit again by the realization of how much their herd had grown over the last few years. They had certainly been blessed.

It was late afternoon when Mark's concentration was broken, one of the hands hollering at him.

"Hey Mark, you have a prisoner escaping!"

Mark looked up to see Sam pointing past Mark and up a slope. He reigned his horse in and started towards the calf, which saw him coming and bolted. As Mark gave chase and started working his way right of the calf, Sam came up and around the other side. The calf slipped between them a couple times before they had it trapped and started walking it back towards the herd.

"Thanks, Sam."

"No problem." Sam took a drink from his canteen before turning to Mark again, "I'm sure you're looking forward to getting back to North Fork where the only thing you have to chase is Mrs. Maguire and her complaints away from the jail."

"Don't get me wrong, I love being Micah's deputy, but ranching is in my blood. I wouldn't give this life up for anything."

"Well don't get me wrong- you and your Pa pay good and I appreciate the job, but I don't know how you mess with these pests year round."

"Gotta be your calling, I guess," Mark answered with a chuckle. "You said you're moving on after this; where ya headed?"

"I don't know quite yet. Maybe Colorado or California."

"I take it you don't have a job lined up then?"

"I'll find something. Someone is always needing extra help, doing something. Worst case I can always find a hotel and trade doing the dishes for food. That's how I got started in North Fork."

"Pa said you grew up out east. What drove you out here?"

"My father," Sam laughed. "He's a prominent lawyer in Massachusetts, and was all set to put me through law school and have me join his firm. I grew up being told what my future was and never really thought anything about doing anything differently until half way through my first semester. I realized I hate court, and school, and anything with fancy wording. So, much to my father's displeasure, I dropped out of school. He made it clear I wasn't welcome to live at home, so here I am."

"Living in the city I'm sure you didn't ride horses all the time; how'd you learn? You seem like you've been riding your whole life."

"I have been. My cousins on my mother's side had horses and they had me over all the time."

"Anybody back home you're missing?" Mark asked with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

"Anybody back in North Fork you're missing?" Sam shot back.

"No, and I don't suppose there will be for some time."

"What makes you say that? North Fork's got plenty of pretty gals."

"I just haven't found the one yet. And there's a lot more to getting married than looks."

"What about Lorrie?"

Mark raised his hands and shook his head as he answered, "I wash my hands of that one, Lorrie's gotten me into more trouble than I care to talk about. Anything you've heard has been concocted by her… or Lou. That woman is determined to see me married by my next birthday."

"Good luck," Sam laughed. "If Miss Mallory sets her mind to something…"

"She has a way of causing a whole lot of trouble in tryin' to get it done," Mark stated, remembering some of Lou's disaster-causing aspirations. "She's like an aunt to me, but some times… I pity the man that marries her."

"You and me both. She can swing a good rat tail with a kitchen towel!"

Neither one had realized how close to the back of the herd they had drifted to until Lucas interrupted their conversation.

"You two gonna sit there gabbing or get some work done? I'm not paying you to complain about Lou all day."

"Lest I checked, you weren't paying me for anything," Mark teasingly retorted.

"You want to sleep in the barn when we get back home?"

"Well if it gets me away from your snoring…" Mark kicked his horse and rode farther up the line.

"Mr. McCain, what you have with your son… it's something special. Don't lose it."

Lucas looked after Sam as the man rode farther up the trail, initially confused by the hand's comment. Yet as he thought, Lucas realized that what he had with his son was something special, something very special. Something that not many fathers and sons were able to share; a mutual love and respect for each other. Lucas's gaze shifted away from Sam and to Mark; a faint smile crossing his face as he remembered the day his wife told him they were going to have a child. Lucas thought about the months of preparation that followed and the day that Mark finally came into their lives. Lucas remembered Mark's first steps, the first time Mark sat in the saddle with Lucas; the day Lucas sat Mark in a saddle by himself. Lucas remembered Mark's first day of school, the nights he spent fighting Mark on doing his school work when they were traveling around. He remembered the look on his son's face when they decided to settle in North Fork. The memories went on and on and on… until Lucas found himself looking at the grown man his son was.

Lucas chuckled as the smile on his face grew. When did his son grow up?

Several hours later, Lucas started calling for camp. The hands worked to settle the cattle and set up camp for the evening. After supper, a few of the hands approached Lucas.

"What can I do for you boys?"

"We were wondering if a few of us could ride into town, blow off a little steam?"

"Anybody that gets into a fight or comes back drunk isn't getting paid at the end of this drive," Lucas warned before giving an approving nod.

As the hands took off, Lucas noticed Sam taking a seat by the fire.

"You're not going with them?"

"I know myself too well and want to get paid after eating trail dust for two weeks."

Lucas nodded in understanding. "There's some more beans if you're still hungry."

"Thanks, Mr. McCain, but I'm plenty full. I think I had about five of Mrs. McCain's biscuits."

"My wife didn't make those, she died a long time ago."

"I'm sorry, I…"

"Don't worry about it. Mark has perfected her recipe; I could never get them to turn out right."

"Mark?" Sam tried to cover his laugh with a cough. "I didn't know Mark cooked."

"He got tired of my cooking," Lucas replied with a chuckle.

"Hey, a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do," Mark called as he walked towards them. "Although don't let Pa fool you. He can make a mean chocolate cake."

Sam couldn't help himself and stopped trying to hide his laughter.

"I'm sorry," Sam chuckled. "Just hearing stories around saloons I never envisioned The Rifleman wearing an apron."

"I have an image to keep you know," Lucas replied with a smile.

"So have you always lived in North Fork?" Sam asked, changing the subject.

"No, we lived in Oklahoma before my Ma passed away, when I was six," Mark answered. "We travelled around some before deciding to call North Fork home."

"How'd North Fork take to you being there? I mean, reputations and all…"

Lucas looked to Mark to answer and listened as his son told Sam about their first few days in North Fork. As Sam listened he could hear the pride in Mark's voice as he spoke about Lucas. But unlike when Mark was younger, it wasn't because of the rifle that the pride was there. Mark spoke of His Pa with respect, because of who he was as a man.

"Was it hard growing up with your Pa's reputation?" Sam asked.

"There were times," Mark answered as he knowingly looked to Lucas. "But we got through it. I think the hardest part for me when I was younger was that my Pa wouldn't allow me a rifle until I was fifteen. I begged him for a rifle, but I'm glad he didn't give in. I got into enough trouble as it was!"

"Slingshots and spitballs?" Sam asked, remembering his own childhood.

Mark nodded as he chuckled.

"Not all his slingshot experiences got him in trouble though," Lucas said.

With Sam's curiosity piqued, Lucas told Sam about the time Mark's slingshot had come in handy and saved a senator's life.

1MC1

The next morning Lucas woke, sensing someone beside him. He sat up and turned to see Mark reaching for Lucas's saddle bag.

"Sorry to wake you, Pa," Mark apologized. "I was just getting the coffee."

"What time is it?" Lucas asked, trying to stifle a yawn.

"Just after four-thirty; sun should be up before too terribly long."

"How's your ankle? You were still limping last night."

"I reckon I'll be limping for a few days, I landed on it funny."

"Should I take a-" Lucas stopped short as Mark raised his eyebrows. "You may be nineteen, but you're still my son, and I have a right to be concerned about you. Besides, if you bust your leg up any more, you won't be able to help out with the chores when we get home." Lucas tried to put a teasing spin on his worry, knowing Mark wasn't twelve anymore.

"I'll be fine, just as long as Thumper doesn't throw me again."

Lucas hesitated, wanting to offer to swap horses for the day, but knowing the offer would make his son feel like he was being treated like a child.

"I know what you're thinking, and I can handle Thumper just fine. I don't need you getting thrown all over the country side; you might break an arm and leave me with all the dishes!"

"Alright," Lucas answered with a chuckle before changing his tone. "Mark… have you talked to Brady much? I haven't been able to get more than a few words out of him here or there and… something just seems… off to me. You know I'm not one to jump to conclusions, but…"

"I know what you mean, he's kinda been "off" this entire drive. I tried striking up a conversation with him after we called for camp last night, but he didn't exactly say much. I was somewhat surprised when he didn't go to town with the rest of the guys last night. Last year he was begging and pleading almost every time we got near a town. Though Melissa might have finally talked some sense into him and convinced him to stop drinking and all, with the baby coming."

"With the-" Lucas quietly laughed so to not wake the hands. "So that's why he's so quiet."

"What's so funny?" Mark looked curiously between his Pa and where Brody slept.

"I remember the year your Ma was expecting you and I not only had to take our cattle to market, but also needed to make some money and helped a few other ranchers out. Every time I had to leave your Ma I was a complete nervous wreck. She later told me she was glad I had to be gone, because I was hovering over her so much when I was home it made her nervous."

"What makes everyone so nervous about it? It's just a baby, these things happen every day."

Lucas couldn't help himself and let out another bout of laughter as he answered, "Son, remind me to ask you that same question when you're expecting your first. You'll understand-"

"When I'm older?" Lucas nodded. "…And I thought I was done hearing that from you."

"We all thought we were done hearing that when we were your age. You're going to be hearing it for the rest of your life. But Mark, know that when I say it now, it's not because I don't think you're a man. There are things in life you simply can't understand until you're older."

"I understand, Pa," Mark answered with a nod. "You gonna try to catch some more shut eye?"

"And let you burn breakfast?" Lucas teased as he reached for his boots. "No thanks."

Father and son worked together to get a simple breakfast for the hands prepared. After a week on the trail, everyone was getting tired of biscuits and jerky. As the sun began to rise and warm the dessert, the hands slowly started slipping from their bed rolls and preparing to break camp later that morning. Mark took the lead that morning with Lucas half way down the line. The hands were scattered throughout the herd and continued to work the cattle as they had the days before. Mid-morning, Lucas heard his son calling him and looked up to see Mark motioning Lucas to come to the front. Lucas barely had to shift his weight forward before Razor started picking up pace and heading for Mark.

"Something the matter, Son?"

"Pa, Thumper's getting agitated and starting to act up. I'm going to circle around and ask Brady to work farther up the line so I can take the back. If Thumper starts acting up again, I don't want to risk setting the cattle off and spooking them into another stampede."

"Sounds good. Don't be afraid to get off and walk him for a little bit. Sometimes their backs-" Lucas stopped and shook his head, knowing Mark knew more about horses than he did. "Let me know if you need anything. I'll probably call for a stop to rest the horses in about an hour."

Mark nodded and Lucas watched as his son turned the horse around and headed towards the back of the heard. Lucas looked ahead and was thankful to see clouds in the distance, knowing a break from the sun was needed for the men and animals.

Shortly before noon, Lucas called for a water break and the men slowly brought the cattle to a stop. Lucas went to each of the hands to see if there was anything they had seen that was concerning and he was glad to hear that nothing was out of the ordinary… until Lucas realized his son was no where to be seen.

"Brady, have you seen Mark?"

"Not since he asked me to work farther up the line," Brady replied as he looked around.

"Pete?" Lucas called as he started towards the man. "When was the last time you saw Mark?"

"About twenty minutes ago. He rode up and said he was going to walk his horse for a while; said Thumper wasn't really cooperating."

"We'll wait until he catches up with us then," Lucas answered.

But twenty minutes came and went, and Mark was no where to be seen. Lucas kept looking to the horizon, but never saw his son's figure appear. Finally getting up in the saddle, Lucas turned to the hands, "I'm going to look for Mark."

"I'll come with you," Sam offered, to which Lucas nodded his head.

The men rode, and while Sam thought about all the daylight they were losing, Lucas's only thought was on his son. Mark was too smart and too responsible for there not to be something wrong.

The men hadn't been riding long when they saw Thumper standing by himself. Lucas dismounted and approached the horse to see Mark's rifle still in the scabbard.

"Mark?!" Lucas called as he rested his hands on his hips and looked around.

Sam rode a ways further before stopping by a group of boulders and dismounting.

"Mr. McCain, over here!"

Hearing the urgency in the man's voice, Lucas ran towards Sam and caught up to him as the man opened his canteen and started pouring its contents onto an unconscious Mark's face. Both men called to Mark repeatedly, but there was nothing but dessert silence in response. Seeing the blood on the side of Mark's head, Lucas became increasingly worried.

"Well what do we do?" Sam asked, looking from Lucas to Mark, then back to Lucas again.

"I need you to go get the horses. I'll mount up have you pass Mark up to me. After that I want you to ride back to the herd and tell everyone to move the cattle about ten miles more and camp for the night, there's a town not far from that and hopefully they have a doctor."

Sam nodded in reply before springing into action. Lucas looked down into his son's face and let out a heavy sigh as he shook his head. "Hang in there, Mark…"

When Sam returned with the horses, Lucas mounted before Sam awkwardly passed Mark up to him. The hand then handed Thumper's reigns to Lucas before mounting his own horse. They rode together back towards the heard, but Lucas didn't stop to take time to explain things to the hands before continuing past them. As Lucas rode, he prayed for Mark to wake up as he tried hard to keep his son from falling out of the saddle. After a little over an hour of riding, Lucas saw a town coming into view. He wanted to kick Razor to go faster, but he knew it would be harder to keep Mark in the saddle and was worried that the added jostling would cause damage. When Lucas rode into town, he was oblivious to the strange stares he got from the people on the street.

"You need a doctor?" Someone offered.

Lucas looked up to answer a short, burly man, "Please, we had an accident out on the trail…"

The man turned to someone and told them to run for the doctor before offering to take Razor's reigns. Lucas wrapped both arms around his son as the man led his horse to a hitching rail outside a large building. Without saying a word, the man worked with Lucas to get Mark out of the saddle before helping him carry Mark inside the establishment.

"Jenny, we need a room," The man hollered to the woman standing behind the oak desk.

The woman gasped as she saw the side of Mark's bloody head and quickly retrieved a key before coming around the desk. "This way," the woman instructed before leading the men down a hall and to a room.

As Lucas and the man set Mark on the bed, the woman started pouring water into the basin and then began cleaning Mark's wound.

"Thank you, mister," Lucas offered, allowing himself to step away from his son briefly.

"Weren't nothing. The doctor should be here in a few-"

"I'm here," A middle aged man declared as he stepped into the room. "Thank you Miss Jenny, but may I examine the patient? And you," the doctor continued as he addressed Lucas, "You must be the one that brought him in. What happened? Thrown from his horse?"

"I assume so." As Lucas answered the doctor he stepped back towards the bed his son was on and was oblivious to the other two leaving the room. "We were taking our cattle to market and my son's horse had been giving him trouble. He had been at the back of the herd and when we stopped for water, Mark wasn't there. One of the hands said twenty minutes before we stopped Mark said he was going to walk his horse for a while… when he didn't turn up, we went looking and found him unconscious…"

"Well you're gonna have quite a nasty headache when you wake," the doctor chuckled as he gave a sympathetic sigh.

Lucas watched as the man continued to tend to his son and anxiously waited for him to finish.

"Well, I can't rightly say for certain how good or bad off he is, we'll have to wait until he wakes. He probably has a concussion and rattled his brain a bit. Right now he needs quiet so his body can finish getting over the shock of hitting his head like that. Give it a few hours and he should wake. We'll know more then. I'll be making my rounds and will check in right around supper time. If he wakes before then, get one of the bell boys to run for Doc Jamison."

"Thank you," Lucas replied as he stood to shake the man's hand, still shaken by what had happened.

"My pleasure, Mr. McCain."

"Do I know you?" Lucas asked as he looked at the man curiously.

"Me? No," the man laughed. "I saw the rifles in the scabbards when I was outside. Between that and your height, well… it wasn't that hard to figure. I'll have someone bring the rifles up."

"Thank you, Doc."

"Don't worry, he's alive, and he'll eventually mend," the doctor answered, still hearing the concern the rancher held for his son in the man's voice. "If you need anything, holler."

2MC2

Mark woke, immediately feeling the intense, throbbing pain in his head. He lifted his hand to his temple to rub the side of his head, but regretted it as soon as he touched the bruise. Mark's moan was interrupted by a voice beside him.

"It'll be sore for a while, you can count on that for sure."

Mark looked to his right to see a man, a little older than his Pa standing beside the bed. His graying black hair was thick and neatly combed back, revealing a scar on the man's left ear.

"Who are you?" Mark tried sitting up, the movement making him nauseous and dizzy.

The doctor saw the color draining from his patient's face and helped Mark lie back down as he replied, "I'm Dr. Jamison. And I think we should wait a while longer before you try sitting up."

"But what happened? Where am I?" Realizing Lucas wasn't there, Mark worriedly continued, "Where's my Pa? Is he alright?" Mark again started to sit up, but the doctor kept him down.

"Don't you worry none about your Pa, he's fine. I sent him down to get something to eat while I came up here to check on you. We were hoping you'd be able to fill us in on what happened, the only thing I can tell you is your father found you unconscious after you turned up missing."

Mark tried thinking back, but it was mostly a blur. The doctor could see the confusion on his patient's face and tried reassuring him, "Don't worry about it, you rattled your brain good. It'll be some time before you can remember everything that happened. Until then, you just need to rest and take it easy."

Both men turned there heads at the sound of the hotel room door swinging open. A relieved smile crossed Lucas's face as he saw that his son was awake. After closing the door behind him and setting his rifle in the corner of the room, Lucas took two long strides towards his son.

"Mark, it's good to see you awake." Lucas put a hand on his son's shoulder and looked into Mark's eyes, trying to assess his son's condition. "How do you feel?"

"I feel like I got kicked in the head by a horse," Mark replied with a slight grin.

"Is that what happened?" Lucas asked with concern.

"I don't remember. …Last thing I do remember… I think we were talking about Senator Borden… Sam was with us… when was that?"

"Last night shortly before we turned in," Lucas answered as the doctor gave an approving nod.

"Everything seems to check out alright, Mr. McCain." The doctor turned towards Mark again, "I'll leave some pills for you to help with the pain. Take two every four hours or so."

"Doc, he had also hurt his ankle on the trail day before yesterday," Lucas commented.

"I noticed that when I came up here and examined him again. He mildly twisted it, should be fine in a few days; though I'd avoid using it as much as I could."

"When are we leaving?" Mark asked as he looked at Lucas.

Lucas sighed heavily, not looking forward to the conversation he was about to have with his son. Before answering Mark, he looked to the doctor who nodded in understanding and took his leave. Lucas turned back to Mark, who held a less than pleasant look in his face.

"Pa what aren't you telling me? What's going on?"

"Mark, you can't finish the drive in your condition. Whatever happened rattled your brain good. We can't risk you getting thrown again, or even rattling your brain more by riding so much."

"But I can't just stay here! It's another what, three days until market? We need all the help we can get! The cattle are getting edgy, the supplies are running low. Sam hurt his shoulder and-"

"And we aren't going to argue about this, Son. You understand enough about doctorin' that you know no one in your condition should be out on the trail. I'm not going to let you risk getting yourself killed over three days. Sam's fine and we'll make it to market with one less person. I know how much you hate being laid up, but that's what you're going to be for a while. If the situation was reversed, would you want me to finish out the cattle drive?"

Crossing his arms and rolling his eyes as he realized he wasn't going to win this argument, Mark sighed before looking back at Lucas with a frown and raised eyebrows. "Touché."

"Mark, I know how much you want to finish the cattle drive, but it's just not a good idea."

"Yeah, I know," Mark answered, accepting that the whole thing was out of his control. "So just how long am I gonna have to sit around here and wait for you to get back?"

"Well I figured you wouldn't be to happy about missing the rest of the drive so I went over to the train depot after dinner and saw about getting you a ticket. There's a train that runs from here to Albuquerque, then to North Fork day after tomorrow. Figured you'd feel a little better sitting around at home with Micah than sitting around here by yourself."

"And you'd feel better, knowing Micah was there to keep an eye on me?" Mark inquired.

"It crossed my mind," Lucas teased with a gleam in his eye. "Besides, I'm sure Micah has paperwork or something to keep you busy. I know how stir crazy you can get."

"Who, me?" Mark innocently asked with a chuckle. "Do I at least get something to eat between now and then? I'm a little hungry."

"Sure thing. I think Doc said to start you off with a liver and onion soup," Lucas teased.

"You bring liver and onions anywhere near this room and I'll have to lock you up for assaulting an officer of the law!"

"I'll be back." Lucas laughed and squeezed his son's shoulder before turning to leave.

"Thanks, Pa."

Lucas went downstairs and spoke with the hotel manager, Jenny, about possibly getting some broth for Mark. She kindly agreed and disappeared to speak with the cook.

"Mr. McCain?" Lucas turned to see Sam entering the hotel. "Is Mark alright?"

"He woke up just a few minutes ago. His brain is rattled and it'll hurt for a while, but the doctor said he should be fine. He just needs some rest."

"What's your plan?"

"I'll join you out on the trail tomorrow morning and we'll keep moving the cattle. Mark's going to take the train back to North Fork, day after tomorrow."

"I'm sure he didn't take that news too well," Sam chuckled as he shook his head.

"Not initially, but he knows it's for the best. I'm not exactly thrilled about him having to miss the rest of the cattle drive… I know how much he looks forward to it. But I'd rather him be disappointed than wind up doing more damage to himself."

"That's for sure. Well, I better let everyone else know what's going on, we just figured someone should check up on the two of you. Is there anything else I can do?"

"No, thanks though. Just make sure no one makes a saloon run tonight."

"Yes sir." Sam waved as he started out of the hotel and back towards his horse.

Lucas turned around just as Jenny was coming back into the lobby.

"I'll bring the broth up for your son when it's ready, Mr. McCain."

"Thank you very much; we appreciate how hospitable you folks have been. I'll of course make sure you've been reimbursed for your trouble."

"I'm not worried about that. How is your son doing? I didn't catch the doctor before he left."

"He banged his head up pretty bad, but he should be up and around after a few weeks."

"But you're on a cattle drive, aren't you? How do you intend on getting your stock to market?"

"I'm sending my son ahead on the train so he can get home and rest. I'll finish the drive with the hands and be back home in less than a week's time. Provided nothing else goes wrong."

"Sounds like you've been experiencing your fair share of troubles on this trip?"

"Just a few too many," Lucas chuckled in response. "I just hope when he gets home he can make it a few days before he reaches for his badge."

"His badge?" The woman asked in surprise. "Your son's a lawman? But, but he's just a boy…"

"He's our town's deputy, and as much as I wish he still was a boy, he'll be twenty in a few months. He's always taken after his mother, people usually guess him to be about sixteen."

"I suppose that has its advantages. I hope you don't think me rude, I didn't mean anything by-"

"Please, it's alright. I forget myself how old he is sometimes." Lucas sighed as he shook his head and looked down the hallway. "It's like you blink and they're all of a sudden grown up."

"Well considering he's a deputy, I'm sure you're awfully proud of the man he grew up to be."

"That I certainly am." Lucas smiled with fatherly pride as he thought about his son.

"I'm sure he has a special young lady who will be delighted that he's getting home early?"

"No, actually. Mark's always been a bit of a loner and although one day he'd like to settle down and have a family one day, he just keeps insisting that the right person hasn't come along yet… which I'm alright with. It's been just the two of us for years and although I look forward to the day I have grandchildren running around the ranch… these last few years have been good years between the two of us." Lucas suddenly realized he was talking more to himself than the hotel manager. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to go on."

"I can understand," she replied with a smile. "My own mother died when I was ten and it was just my father and I for a long time. Those years between me finishing school and him passing were some of the best years of my life. My father became my best friend during that time. By the way you talk about your son, it sounds like it's the same for the two of you."

"It's a strange, wonderful thing when you begin to see your child as your equal. Do you have children, Miss Jenny?"

"Me? No," the woman gracefully laughed. "I've never been married. One day I certainly would like to be, but not many men are interested in a woman who owns and manages her own business."

"One day I'm sure the right man will come along." Seeing a few customers enter the building, Lucas continued, "I best let you get back to work. Thank you, for everything."

"My pleasure."

Lucas returned to the hotel room just in time to see Mark starting to get out of bed.

"And just where do you think you're going?" Lucas asked in a disapproving tone.

"I'll give you three guesses and the first one doesn't count."

Lucas looked at his son in confusion before Mark chuckled and shook his head.

"Where else? I've gotta relieve myself. Don't worry I won't break an arm in the process."

"I'm holding you to that," Lucas teased. "Does the medicine the doctor gave you seem to be helping with the pain at all?"

"I don't think it's been long enough for it to start working." Mark went to take a step, but relied heavily on the bedpost as he shifted his weight.

"Mark are you sure you're alright? I can help you…"

Mark looked up at Lucas, a little embarrassed by his lack of balance and coordination, but also understanding that he couldn't do anything about it.

"Looks like I have a little pride to swallow," Mark answered with a sigh. "Pa, would you…?"

"I suppose, if I have too…" Lucas teased.

3MC3

Mark said goodbye to Lucas the next morning after the doctor assured Lucas Mark should be able to make the trip home by himself fine. Mark listened to the doctor and stayed in the hotel room most of the day, and was grateful for the peace and quiet the room afforded him. He wished he was out on the trail with his Pa, but he knew he had been thrown from Thumper one too many times for that to happen.

The morning after Lucas rejoined the hands, Mark found himself boarding his train and settling into a seat. There weren't many passengers to begin with, but as the day drew on, more passengers boarded until almost every seat was taken. Mark slept through most of his ride to Albuquerque and was dozing off on the second train when he heard an argument starting to get out of hand at the end of the car. He ignored it at first, but he couldn't for long.

"Why you rotten cheat! I saw you dealing from the bottom of the deck!"

"You should've said something while we were playing if you thought I was cheating. The game is now over and there's nothing either of us can do about it. It's not like I won, anyway."

"Sure, you're just going to split the profits with your buddy over there! You give me my money back or so help me-"

"You can talk until you're blue in the face, but it won't do you any good. I did nothing wrong."

"You get your partner to give me my money back or I'll plug you!"

The passengers around the two men gasped as the slightly younger of the two pulled a handgun and pointed it at the other man. Mark grabbed his rifle and stood to confront the two men, making his way closer to them.

"Now we'll try this one more time," the younger man angrily spoke. "I want my money."

"Drop the gun, mister."

The man looked behind him to see Mark shouldering his rifle.

"You even know how to shoot that thing, boy?" The man laughed as he turned back to the other man.

"Drop the gun or you'll find out."

"And just why should I listen to you?"

"Because I've got the law on my side and you have about ten seconds before I decide to arrest you." Still holding his rifle with one hand, Mark pulled his deputy's badge from his back pocket.

"but you can't be more 'an…"

"You going to drop the gun or not? Because this rifle sure doesn't care how old I am."

Reluctantly, the man slowly began to lower his weapon. Mark took the fire arm from the man before telling him to move to another car.

"Now wait a minute, what about my money?"

"If what you say is true, I'm sorry, but you have no witnesses and should've called it during the game. Now get before I make you move cars."

"Can I have my gun back now?"

"You can get it from the conductor once it's time for you to get off the train. Don't make me repeat myself a second time."

"I'm goin'." The man turned around and stormed from the car.

"Thank you, deputy," the other man offered. "I really wasn't cheating."

"Maybe, maybe not. Just see to it that you can't be called for cheating again."

Mark went to find the conductor and explained the situation before turning over the man's gun.

"I don't think he should cause you any trouble when it comes time for him to get off. He was just a bit riled at the other man… and then at me," Mark assured.

"Well thank you for your help, deputy. I certainly do appreciate it. We have enough trouble with train robberies, we don't need passengers causing all this trouble, too." The man hesitated before going on, "…I don't mean no disrespect, but you do look a mite young to be a deputy."

"I'm relatively young, but old enough. I've always taken after my Ma's stature. Not always so bad; my size has helped me get out of a few scrapes in the past."

"I guess I can see that coming in handy. Thank you, again. If there's anything you need, be sure to let myself or one of the attendants know."

"I'll be sure to do that. Thank you, Sir."

Mark turned and went back to his car before settling into his seat, all too aware of the way people were now looking at him. Mark pulled his hat over his eyes and tried to get a little more shut eye, but a quiet voice interrupted him.

"Mister Deputy?"

Mark removed his hat and turned to see a small boy nervously standing beside him.

"Well, what can I do for you, young man?"

"Are you really a deputy?" The boy asked in awe.

"I sure am." As Mark answered, he pulled out his badge and handed it to the boy.

"Have you ever shot any outlaws?" The boy excitedly asked. "Like Billy the Kid?"

"I'm from a small town called North Fork, and Billy's type don't really come by much."

"I bet that's 'cause you scared them all away!"

'Maybe because Pa scared 'em all away,' Mark thought to himself. "I don't think I had anything to do with it, but I'm glad they don't come around. Using a gun on someone isn't as great as those dime-novels makes it seem like. There's never anything special about taking someone else's life away."

"Well you're not scared of them are you? You're a deputy, you can't be scared!"

"If they came to town I would face them, but I'd much rather the people that lived in my town not have to see that. If they came to town, someone like you could easily get hurt. But every person always is a little scared, when it comes to facing a gun."

"Well I know one person who would never get scared," the boy proudly boasted. Mark was expecting for the boy to start innocently bragging on his own father, but wasn't prepared when the child boldly declared, "The Rifleman!"

Mark briefly considered what to say to the boy. He was torn between leaving things as they were and explaining the truth to the child; but he knew what his Pa would do.

"Can I let you in on a secret?" The boy quickly nodded his head. "My Pa's The Rifleman."

The boy's eyes widened as he whispered, as much as a five-year-old can, "He IS?!"

"Yeah, but can I tell you something else?" The boy nodded again. "Even my Pa gets scared sometimes."

"But he's The Rifleman…" The disappointment could be heard in the boy's voice.

"I used to think the same thing when I was your age," Mark said with a small smile. "I bragged on my Pa and his ability with the rifle, I was sure nothin' could ever scare my Pa - nothin'. But one day he told me that he did get scared… that everyone got scared. But just because you're afraid of something doesn't mean you're a coward. It takes more courage to do something when you're scared compared to when you're not. Have you ridden a horse before?" The boy slowly shook his head no in confusion. "Are you ever scared of horses?" The boy hesitantly nodded his head. "See for me, I've been riding horses my whole life. I think nothing about jumping on my horse bareback and sending him into a gallop. But for you, it'd take a lot of courage to face your fear and get up on a horse, just like it took me courage when I was your age. Now my Pa, once I realized there were things he was scared of, I also gained a lot of respect for him, because I realized it took a lot of courage for him to face those fears, but he does it anyway. And that makes him courageous. Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you?"

"Well I think so, but I got one question." Mark nodded the boy on. "What's courage?"

"It's like when someone is brave," Mark chuckled.

"So you're saying, even though your Pa is scared sometimes, he's still brave? He's still c… cour… corgus?"

"Courageous, yes." Mark chuckled. "Anyone who is willing to face their fear is courageous."

"Just wait till I get to Aunt Beth's and tell-"

"Josiah, there you are!" Mark looked up to see a frazzled woman walking towards them. "You should know better than that! I'm so sorry he bothered you…"

"He wasn't a bother at all, ma'am."

"Let's get back to our seat," she told the boy. "You need to rest for a while."

"Yes ma'am."

When the boy started to hand Mark his badge back, Mark took it, but then turned around and pinned it on the boy's shirt.

"Do you swear to uphold the law?"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Well then, Deputy, you best make sure this fine lady makes it back to her seat alright."

Mark grinned as the boy and his mother returned to their seat, the child beaming with joy. Settling back in his seat, Mark rested his eyes for a while longer until the conductor came through the car, announcing they would be in North Fork in five minutes. Mark collected his gear from the overhead compartment and waited for the train to settle before following a few other passengers off the train and getting Thumper from the stock car. Half way to the livery, the peacefulness of the summer evening was interrupted by several gun shots. Mark looked up to see several men riding away from the bank. Dropping his bags and Thumper's reigns, Mark ran towards the bank and stopped in the middle of the street to shoulder his rifle. Just as Mark was getting ready to pull the trigger, John Hamilton came running from the bank and shoved the barrel of Mark's rifle towards the sky.

"What did you do that for?!" Mark demanded. "I had him!"

"And they have Stephan Griswold!"

Realizing the banker was right to have stopped him, Mark lowered his rifle as he looked towards the dust cloud forming behind the outlaws, then back to John.

"Was anyone hurt?"

"No, everyone is fine. I just don't understand why they took Stephan with them…"

"Well we'll find out soon enough. Are you up to riding?"

"Of course. Let me close up the bank and I'll meet you at the office in ten minutes?"

"Five."

John nodded in response before both men turned to go their separate ways. As Mark turned around, he saw the large crowd that had formed and began to address them.

"I need a few men to ride on a posse with John Hamilton and me. If you're interested, head to the marshal's office and Micah… where is Micah?" Mark asked, surprised the marshal wasn't already there.

"He went to check on some outlining ranches a few hours ago," Nils informed Mark. "Seems every time he leaves me in charge somethin' goes wrong…"

"Don't worry, Nils, it would've happened no matter who was in charge, and I'm leaving you in charge until Micah gets back. Anyone else who wants to join the posse meet me over at the office and I'll deputize you." As the crowd dispersed, Mark made his way towards Nils. "You think BlueBoy's leg is healed enough for the trip?"

"I reckon so, he just needed to rest it for a few days, I'll saddle him for you. I saw Thumper over near the livery, you want me to load him up with supplies?"

"Could we borrow a horse from you instead? Thumper hasn't been cooperating too well."

"Sure. Hey, aren't you supposed to be on a cattle drive? Where's Lucas?"

"Pa's still on the trail. It's a long story, I'll explain later. Right now I've got a posse to organize."

"I'll have BlueBoy and a pack horse ready for you before you're ready to leave."

"Thanks, Nils."

Mark made his way to the marshal's office where a group of men, including John Hamilton, were already waiting for him. He deputized the men and tossed each man a badge before grabbing another badge for himself. Mark told the men to ready their horses and that they'd leave in just a few minutes. As the door closed behind the last man, Mark let himself fall into the desk chair and waited a few moments for the room to stop spinning. Mark took his hat off and rubbed his head for a few moments before reaching into his shirt pocket for some of the pills the doctor had given him. After taking the pills, Mark gave himself two minutes to rest before heading towards the livery where Nils had the two horses waiting for him. Mark patted BlueBoy before mounting up, glad to at least be riding his own horse this time.

"Nils, when Micah gets back, will you let him know what happened and tell him I'm sorry, but I couldn't wait for him to get back and make the decisions."

"I''m sure he'll understand, Mark."

'He will, but Pa's gonna tan my hide,' Mark thought to himself before replying, "Thanks, Nils."

Mark urged BlueBoy forward before the rest of the men followed Mark down the street and out of town. Nils stood there watching the men until Lou came running up to him.

"I just got away from the hotel; everyone was clamoring for their valuables from the safe. What's going on? Who's leading the posse? I thought Micah was out checking the ranches?"

"Well the bank was robbed, they took Stephan hostage, and Mark showed up in town just in time to lead a posse after the criminals."

"Mark's back in town?" Lou asked in surprise. "But he and Lucas aren't due back for a few days. Why is he in town? Did something happen to Lucas?"

"No, as far as I could tell Lucas was fine, Mark said Lucas was still on the drive. He said it was a long story and that he'd have to explain when he got back. Considering they left town as quick as they did, I'm sure that won't be long at all."

4MC4

"Can I do something for you, Marshal?" Oat asked as Micah dismounted.

"I'm just checking up on the outlining ranches, to make sure everything is as it should be. I will say, I'm a bit surprised to find you here, I thought you'd be selling your cattle in Santa Fe."

"Oh, I decided to let the hands handle it this year, I'm not quite as young as I used to be. Besides that, I told Lucas I'd keep an eye on his place while he was gone. Bet you're sure looking forward to getting your deputy back when Mark and Lucas return."

"You're not the only one getting old," Micah chuckled. "But I'll probably be without a deputy a while longer, Lucas sent word that Mark was injured on the trail."

"Will he be alright?"

"Should be, but he's coming home tonight on the train so he can rest. I'm glad Mark helps Lucas with the ranch, it's in his blood. I just wish ranching didn't include a two week cattle drive every summer. I was getting used to sleeping in my own bed most nights of the week."

"What are you going to do when that boy finally decides to settle down and start a family?"

"Well at the rate Mark's going, that's gonna be a long time in coming." Micah chuckled then slightly paused before going on, "Well I guess with you taking care of Lucas's place, that's one less ranch for me to check up on. I better get going, I have a few more ranches to check on before dark."

"If you need any help while Mark's down, be sure to let me know."

"I'll keep that in mind!" Micah mounted his horse again and waved as he rode towards the next ranch.

As Micah came up on the Grady ranch, he heard the unmistakable sound of a woman's scream echoing through the yard. As he dismounted, Micah saw David Grady running from the barn.

"Please, Marshal Torrence, you gotta help my Ma!"

Micah knelt down next to the boy and put his hands on David's shoulders.

"What's wrong with your Ma? Where's your Pa?"

"Well Ma went into labor and sent me out to the barn. Pa went to get Doc a little while ago, but-" The boy's statement was interrupted by another scream. "Please, you gotta do somethin'!"

"I'll see what I can do, but you've got to stay in the barn, understand?"

Micah waited for the boy to nod and head back to the barn before running inside the house. He followed the screams to the bedroom where Mrs. Grady was lying on the bed, her white knuckles gripping the bed posts.

"Please, get the doctor," the woman cried.

"Jase went to get the doctor a little while ago, he should be here in no time at all, just relax-"

"RELAX?!" The woman yelled. "Marshal I'd like to see you go through a birth like this rel-" her statement was interrupted by another scream. "David wasn't this hard, something's wrong!"

"It'll be alright, Caroline, just breathe." Micah moved to the head of the bed and offered his hand for her to squeeze, knowing it'd be better than the bed post. "Jase will be here any minute with Doc Burrage and your little one will be here in no time at all."

"Men and the things they say to a woman in labor…" Caroline mused as the contraction subsided. "I'd like to see a man go through this once, just once!"

Micah tried to hide his chuckle, but his efforts were futile.

"Do you think there's something funny about this, Marshal Torrence?!"

"No ma'am," Micah meekly replied.

As the next contraction hit, Micah tried to support Mrs. Grady and talk her through it. He was relieved when Doc Burrage finally arrived and asked him to keep Jason preoccupied in the kitchen. Micah did as the doctor asked and made coffee as the man impatiently paced back and forth across the kitchen.

"I don't remember David's birth taking this long," Jase worriedly commented as another scream came from behind the bedroom door.

"Don't worry, Doc's in there with her and I'm sure everything will be fine, just you wait and see. Wouldn't surprise me at all if this one were a girl, demanding everyone's attention before she makes her entrance. I remember when my sister was born, now that was a long birth. Took twenty-four hours for her to come screaming into this world."

"I don't care if it's a boy or a girl, I just wish the baby would hurry up and get here!"

A few hours later, both men looked up to see David peeking his head inside the house.

"Pa, Is Mama gonna be alright? Should it be taking this long?"

Micah watched as the father walked towards his son and picked him up before walking out to the barn. Micah stood and watched from the porch as Jason sat outside of the barn with David on his knee and tried to reassure his son that everything would be alright. Micah couldn't help but smile as he thought back to all the times he had seen his best friend do the same thing with a much younger Mark. Both Lucas and Mark had done a lot of changing over the years, but there would always be something special the father and son shared that Micah could see developing between Jason and his own son.

A few minutes later, Micah heard a baby crying from inside the house and made his way towards Jase and David.

"Well if I'm not mistaken, I think your sibling finally decided to make their entrance, David."

The young boy jumped from his father's lap and started towards the house before Jason put a hand on his son's shoulder to keep him from running inside.

"Give the Doc just a minute to clean the baby up, Son, then we'll go in to see your Ma and your new brother or sister."

"David, do you want it to be a boy or a girl?" Micah asked.

"Well I want a baby brother to play with, but Deputy Mark says that even if it is a girl I'll like being a big brother, and that either way it's a very important job." The pride the boy felt in having such a big responsibility was obvious in the way in which he spoke.

"When did he say that?" Jason asked in surprise, not remembering the conversation.

"Well he stopped by a few weeks ago when you were taking the cattle to market."

"I didn't know he visited."

"He came by every night before he went to town for his shift and then every morning on his way back. He helped me with my chores and brought Ma medicine from Doc when she needed it. He said I was lucky to be having a brother or sister and that he would give almost anything if he could be in my shoes. He said I was going to be something he always wanted to be, but never got to because his Ma died. So I told him he could be my big brother if he wanted."

"I'm sure he appreciated that very much," Jason chuckled.

A few minutes later, the three men entered the house. After helping Doc clean up, Micah rode back to town well after sunset. Per Mrs. Grady's instructions, Micah headed straight to the hotel to give Lou the news.

"It was a girl," Micah called as he entered the hotel lobby.

"Caroline had her baby?!" Exclaimed Lou. "What did they name her? Was it a difficult labor?"

As Micah answered all of Lou's questions he couldn't help but chuckle at the glow in the woman's eyes. After Lou was done interrogating the marshal, Micah said he best be getting back to the office.

"I kinda forgot I had left Nils in charge. I'm sure he could use a break."

"Oh, Micah…" Lou began, somewhat embarrassed about forgetting the events of earlier that evening. "Nils is still over at the office, but there was an incident at the bank just before closing today."

"What kind of incident?"

"The bank was robbed and they took Stephan with-"

"Why didn't anyone tell me?!" Micah demanded.

Before he could storm from the lobby, Lou caught Micah's arm and explained, "No one knew where you were; we could have spent hours searching for you. Besides, Mark was in town and took charge of the posse, leaving Nils to stand watch until you got back from checking on the ranches. There's nothing else we could have done and if we waited for you, the outlaws would be long gone. You should be glad Mark showed up when he did."

Micah let out a defeated sigh and shook his head. "Some days I just don't know what to do with him…"

"Micah, what are you talking about? Mark's a fine deputy."

"Yes, he is. But do you know why he's home and not on the cattle drive?" Lou shook her head. "He was hurt out on the cattle drive and Lucas sent him home to rest; he shouldn't be riding in his condition!"

"But how do you know-"

"Because Lucas knows his son all too well and sent me a telegram yesterday explaining what had happened. He also asked that I make sure Mark didn't over do it and that Doc check him over when he got back. Seems I didn't manage to do either one."

"No one could have known the bank was going to be robbed and that you'd be out at the Grady's and… Micah, it's not your fault."

"But Mark should know better! Sometimes I wonder if he's trying to kill himself…"

"Honestly, Micah, what else was he supposed to do? He's a lawman, and while he and Stephan Griswold may not agree on everything, Mark greatly admires his former teacher. He couldn't just sit around and do nothing. You wouldn't have done any differently!"

"He could've deputized the posse and stay put!"

"You know I don't like Mark's stubbornness any more than you do, and I pray he doesn't do anything to hurt himself, but Mark acted on the best interest of this town! Sometimes you and Lucas… you… you treat him as if he's still a child. But he's a full grown man, and this town's deputy. If Mark hadn't gone with them, who knows what could happen? They only had two hours of daylight to track the criminals and then would have had to wait until sun up to start again while the outlaws got farther away! Not many men in this town know much about tracking, and none of them could come close to Mark's abilities, I've heard you say it yourself! So while you can count on me giving him an earful when he gets home, you can also count on me treating him as the man that you deputized a year and a half ago!"

Micah heavily sighed as the fire in Lou's eyes began to slowly diminish. He knew she was right, but he couldn't help being concerned for and a bit angry with Mark; Mark was like a grandson to him. And then Lucas crossed Micah's mind again… what was he going to tell Lucas?

"We just better hope that Mark gets home before Lucas does, or Lucas is going to be outraged."

"I hope he does, but if he doesn't, I'll be ready to give Lucas the same speech I gave you. Mark is Lucas's son and he always will be, but he has to learn to let go of Mark and let Mark make his own decisions, even if that means making a few mistakes. I can think of plenty of times Lucas has gone out after criminals when he was in no condition whatsoever to be walking around, let alone trailing outlaws."

"Maybe I should've never deputized Mark in the first place…"

"You did right by it, Micah. And Lucas has learned to let go of Mark a lot since you pinned that badge on his son's shirt, but you both need to understand that Mark has the right to make the decisions the two of you have over and over and over again. He spent too many years watching the two of you stand up for what was right for him to not do the same. The two of you simply need to understand that Mark can't and shouldn't be protected from every thing."

"Well I hope you're the first one Lucas sees if Mark doesn't come back before him, because I'm certainly not looking forward to explaining this one to Lucas."

5MC5

John stopped his horse beside BlueBoy and turned towards the deputy. "Well, Mark?"

Mark replied as he dismounted, "I can't track them any farther, there's not enough light." Then turning towards the rest of the men, he continued, "Everyone settle in for the night, we can't do anything else until daybreak. I want everyone up and ready to go at the crack of dawn."

Mark led BlueBoy to a tree and tied his reigns to a limb, John Hamilton not far behind. As Mark worked to unsaddle his horse, the banker noticed Mark was having alarming difficulty getting the saddle off BlueBoy. As Mark pulled the saddle from his horse, John couldn't react fast enough when the weight from the saddle pulled Mark to the ground. Helping Mark stand up and noticing how disoriented he seemed, John worriedly looked over the deputy.

"Mark, are you alright? You should sit down for a few minutes…"

"I'm fine," Mark insisted as he tried to pick up the saddle again, but instead found himself kneeling on the ground and holding the heel of his palm against his head.

"No, you're not fine. What's going on?" John put a hand to Mark's shoulder as his brow furrowed. "And why are you back here without your father?"

Mark waited a few moments to get his bearings before giving in and letting John help him sit against the tree. He took in a deep breath as he tried to ignore the pain in his head.

"BlueBoy hurt his leg shortly before the cattle drive so I had to take another horse. It threw me a good five or six times while I was on the trail. The last time he threw me good and I smacked my head. Pa and one of the hands found me unconscious. Pa got me to the nearest town and after resting for two days I took the train home; the doctor said I couldn't finish the drive in my condition."

"If you're not able to finish a cattle drive, you're certainly in no condition to go chasing after outlaws! Mark, what were you thinking?!"

Mark winced as the volume at which John spoke sent more pain through his head.

"I was thinking about my responsibility to protect the people and businesses of North Fork. I couldn't just sit around and do nothing when we were lucky enough to practically follow them straight out of town. Granted, they'll put some distance between us since they can keep riding while we can't track, but we're closer than we would be if we waited for Micah."

"You need to get back to town. If Lucas were here-"

"My Pa isn't here and I'd appreciate it if everyone stopped treating me as if I need protecting!" Mark quieted and closed his eyes; waiting for the pain to lessen before going on, "When Micah pinned this badge on me, I felt like I finally had a good amount of respect from the people of North Fork. But no matter how hard I tried, no matter how much I did to prove myself, there have always been people like you who think that I still need to be treated like a child. I'm North Fork's deputy and it is my job to protect her in any way that I can. I wouldn't be much of a deputy if I sat there and let someone rob our bank and take one of our citizens hostage. And if my Pa were here, I'd tell him the same thing. I respect you both greatly, but you've got to stop trying to stand between me and my job. Whether you want to recognize it or not, I've grown up. I have the right to decide what I'm willing to sacrifice for the town and people I care about."

There was a long silence before John sighed and turned towards Mark. "Well, Deputy McCain, seeing as how we have a long day ahead of us, I think I'll get some shut eye."

"Thanks, Mr. Hamilton."

John laughed and shook his head as he replied, "Son, you don't give someone a speech like that and then go using their last name. John will do." The banker briefly paused before going on, "Now don't take this the wrong way, I'd say what I'm about to say to your Pa or Micah or anyone else. You take it easy and I'll finish taking care of your horse and get your bed roll ready. We don't need the person leading this posse falling out of their saddle come tomorrow."

Mark gratefully nodded and rested his head against the trunk of the tree as John took care of the horses and set the bedrolls out. It didn't take anyone long to fall asleep, but Mark woke frequently throughout the night. The sharp pain in his head made it difficult to fall back asleep, giving him a very restless night.

When the horizon began changing colors, Mark slipped from his bedroll and started quietly packing up what he could after starting the coffee. It wasn't long before the rest of the men were awake, and a half hour passed before the posse set out on the trail again. Due to the fact that they weren't following a dust trail or even fresh tacks anymore, the posse moved at a much slower pace. John Hamilton, however, also knew that Mark was having a difficult time thinking; he could see the pain in the young man's face.

Mid-morning the men came to a river a Mark told everyone to give the horses a few minutes of rest. Stepping down from his own horse, Mark leaned heavily against BlueBoy and stood holding onto the saddle horn until everyone was ready to mount up again. They crossed the river and began looking for a new set of tracks. John Hamilton looked up when he heard Mark let out a frustrated, heavy sigh.

"What is it?" One of the men asked.

"Well I found their tracks, but they split up. One set of tracks heads north while the other heads east. Fletcher, you come with John and me and we'll head north. Rest of you follow the other tracks. Be careful and don't forget that they're armed."

Without saying anything the men split into groups and followed their designated trails. Mark was worried that they were being lured into a trap, but there wasn't much he could do even if they were. The men rode for several hours in silence, hoping to come across something soon. Mark knew with the hours they had lost the night before, their chances of catching up with the men were becoming slimmer and slimmer, but he couldn't give up that easily.

The sun was beginning to set when the men saw a campfire glowing in the distance. They spread out and slowly surrounded the camp, only seeing one bedroll set out close to the fire.

"Hello in the camp!" Mark called, but he received no response.

Motioning for the other two to start making their way towards the fire, Mark slowly worked his way towards the figure lying in the bed roll. Mark braced himself as he pulled back the top of the bed roll.

"Mr. Griswold?!" Mark exclaimed upon finding an unconscious Stephan.

The three men worked to untie and rouse the school teacher, but Mark suddenly stopped them.

"Let me set his leg before we try to wake him up, this is gonna hurt if he's awake."

The other men nodded and cringed as Mark set Stephan's leg in place. They resumed trying to wake the school teacher until John Hamilton suddenly stood and shook his head.

"It's useless, I can smell chloroform on him. We'll just have to wait until he wakes up on his own. Hopefully that will be before dawn."

Mark nodded as he replied, "There was a creek a ways back, I'll go fill the canteens."

"You need rest, Deputy," John reminded. "I'll fill the canteens, Fletcher can get the horses something to drink. We still don't need you passing out on us."

"What are you talking about?" Fletcher asked as he looked between the two men.

"I have a small head injury, that's all," Mark tried to explain.

"Small," John mused. "Lucas sent him home because the doctor said he couldn't finish the cattle drive. The only reason he was in town when the bank was robbed was because he is supposed to be back in town resting. …But, our deputy is just a bit too stubborn and loyal."

"We'll get the water, Mark." Fletcher stated as he started towards the horses.

As John and Fletcher headed for the bank, they both started to feel drops of water landing on their skin.

"Sure hope it don't rain," Fletcher commented. "There's no shelter for miles and even a light rain would wash out the tracks."

"Well I-" John Hamilton stopped short as he saw three figures on the other side of the bank. The sunlight was disappearing behind the hills, but he was fairly confident he knew who stood on the other side of the bank.

"What are you three doing here?"

"Following the trail," Jensen replied. "What are you doing here?"

"We found Stephan back there on the trail. We came back for some water."

"So they split up just to get back together again? It don't make much sense."

"Unless…" The words died on John's lips as the unmistakeable sounds of a pistol being fired several times echoed across the land.

The men ran their horses back to the camp to find Mark crumpled by the fire, rifle lying on the ground. Fletcher was the first one to Mark while Hamilton checked on Stephan and the others rode, trying to find the assailant.

"Stephan's fine, how's Mark?" John urgently asked.

"One scratched his head, he caught the other in his side; it's still in there."

Leaving Stephan, John hurried toward the other two men and worked with Fletcher to clean the wounds and try to stop the bleeding as the rain drops turned to a steady sprinkle. Twenty minutes had passed before the other three men returned empty handed, rain now pouring from the night sky.

"What's the plan now?" Jensen asked as all the men's eyes fell on the wounded deputy.

"There's not much else we can do," Fletcher answered. "Wait until morning and pray he makes it until we can get him to Doc."

The men took turns standing watch that night; more to keep an eye on Mark and Stephan than anything else; they were sure the outlaws who had done this were long gone. The rain only lasted a half hour, but it was long enough to wash out any trail the outlaws had left.

The next morning as the men were getting ready to break camp, Stephan Griswold began to rouse.

"Well, look who finally decided to show up," Jensen teased as he made his way towards Griswold. "How are you feeling, Stephan?"

"Much better than before I passed out, though I will say, I will be looking forward to getting some medication from Doctor Burrage. How long have I been unconscious?"

"About twelve hours, they knocked you out with chloroform."

"And exactly where are, "they"?" Stephan inquired as he looked around the camp.

Jensen turned to John Hamilton to answer as the banker examined Stephan's injury.

"We're sorry, Stephan, but they disappeared on us and the rain washed out the trail last night."

"No need to apologize to me; I am sorry to hear they got away with your money, however."

"They took a little, but the thing that doesn't make much sense to me is they didn't even bother with the vault. They just had me put what money was within reach in the bag before they took off with you."

"Probably got cold feet," Fletcher commented as he came over, sipping his coffee.

"Do you have any idea how much you lost?" Griswold inquired.

"Probably somewhere around five hundred dollars, but I'm glad it wasn't worse." John stood after he finished looking at Stephan's leg. "It'll be a bit uncomfortable, but I don't see why you can't ride BlueBoy."

"BlueBoy? Isn't that Mark's horse?"

"It is," Jensen answered with a nod. "Mark was the one who led the posse… but he got shot last night, before we lost the outlaws' trail."

"Shot?! My heavens, is he alright?"

"He's breathing," Fletcher answered as he gestured to Mark's bedroll. "But we should break camp and get him to Doc. We'll explain the rest on the way into town."

"I wonder how Lucas is going to take the news…"

6MC6

Lou looked out the open hotel doors as Micah came out of his office to see the posse returning to town, Mark lying on a travois being pulled by John Hamilton's horse. They ran to meet the men, making their way through the small crowd that had already formed outside the clinic.

"What happened?!" Lou demanded in her Irish brogue, looking from one man to the next.

Without realizing he was stating the obvious, Jensen bluntly replied, "He was shot," as he and another man from the posse went to carry Mark inside the clinic. Micah saw the splint on Stephan Griswold's leg and helped the man down from the horse and into Doc's office. Lou quickly followed after the men, who ignored her constant questions.

Quickly assessing his two patients, Doc ordered the men to carry Mark into the back room and told Stephan to stay put in the waiting room until he could look at the leg. Seeing the large crowd standing in the doorway, the doctor ordered everyone out.

"Except you Micah," Doc clarified as the marshal turned to leave. "I need you to stay."

"What about me?" Lou demanded, her concern for Mark evident.

"I need you to go over to the hotel and get something for my patients to eat. Mark won't need more than broth when he wakes."

As the door closed behind Lou and the men from the posse, Micah turned to Doc, "Broth?"

"She wasn't going to be any help in here," Doc mumbled. "She's too worried about the boy."

"What can I do?"

"Stay out here and make sure no one else comes in. I may call for help in the back, so keep your ears open."

Micah nodded in reply before the doctor hurried to the back room of the clinic. After taking in a deep breath to calm his nerves, Burrage set to work. As he took Mark's shirt off he could hear Mark moaning in pain. He saw where the bullet had entered and was glad the men had been able to stop the bleeding before Mark bled to death. Doc cleaned his hands and then his instruments before preparing the ether and sedating Mark, glad he hadn't woken up while in the office. After he was sure Mark wouldn't wake mid-operation, the doctor began to make a larger incision in Mark's side. He pushed through and worked around muscle and tissue until he was finally able to see where the bullet had stopped. Unfortunately, finding the bullet was the easy part. Doc worked to try to extract the bullet, but eventually gave in to cutting into more skin and a bit of muscle before he was able to pull the bullet out. After the bullet clunked in the bottom of a glass jar, Doc began to clean the wound before suturing it closed. Having seen the bullet wound and other injury on Mark's head earlier, Doc began to clean and bandage those injuries before finally taking a step back and letting out a heavy sigh.

"Now just do me a favor and wake up," Doc pleaded with his patient.

Burrage then busied himself with cleaning his instruments and anything else he could before stepping back into the waiting room, forty-five minutes after he had left.

"Doc?" Micah asked with concern. "How is he?"

"I got the bullet out, and it didn't do any major damage; however, Mark lost a considerable amount of blood. I just hope Lucas passed on enough of his stubbornness to his son to let Mark pull through." Doc let out a long, heavy sigh before turning to Stephan and going on, "Now, onto my second patient. Just what did you do to your leg?"

"I'm not particularly certain. At one point we stopped and they forced me down from my horse. Several of the men surrounded me and held a cloth over my nose, although it had a peculiar scent to it. When I woke up, my leg was splinted."

The doctor nodded in understanding as he examined the leg, "They most likely used chloroform to knock you unconscious, and I'm sure any affect of that will be worn off by this evening. This leg, however… who set it?"

"On our way back to North Fork John Hamilton explained all that had happened. After the bank was robbed-"

"Please, just tell me about the leg," Doc insisted, not wanting an hour long explanation from the school teacher.

"Apparently Mark corrected the injury, before he was shot, of course."

"I'll see if I have some crutches in the back. You'll need to use them for a few weeks, and I don't want you exerting yourself much for the next month."

"School starts in just a few days, how am I-"

"You'll have to either cancel classes or ask for a temporary teacher. I won't have you doing permanent damage to your leg."

"We certainly cannot cancel classes!" The teacher protested.

"I'll wire around and have an ad put in the papers," Micah offered. "Someone out there's gotta be looking for a job."

"Are you prepared, Marshal, to have a stranger come into town and influence the future of North Fork? Think of the chaos they could cause, think of-"

"You were a stranger at one point, too, Griswold," Micah reminded with a chuckle. "It's only for a month. Doc, I'm gonna send that telegram; I'll be back to check on Mark later."

Micah left the office and headed to the telegraph office to send his wires. Amos asked if Micah wanted to wire around for Lucas, but the marshal declined the offer, knowing it wouldn't be any use to worry Lucas; the man wouldn't be able to get home any faster. After finishing at the telegraph office, Micah made his way to his own office where he found the rest of the men from the posse waiting for him.

"What can I do for you, gentlemen?"

"How's Mark?" Jensen asked. "He seemed to have lost a whole lot of blood…"

"he did, but Doc got the bullet out and said it didn't do any major damage. We just have to wait and pray he wakes up. Which, if he takes after his father, should be some time soon." Micah briefly paused before going on, "What exactly happened out there?"

The men quietly looked at each other, waiting for someone else to start talking. Finally, John Hamilton spoke up.

"The trail split and so we split up. Mark, Fletcher and I came across Stephan Griswold unconscious. Mark set Stephan's leg before he started to say he'd go back to the river for water, but we knew he wasn't doing well with his head injury." Some men looked curiously at the banker, unsure of what he was talking about, but didn't dare interrupt. "Fletcher and I took the horses down to the bank where we met up with everyone else; the tracks had come back around. While we were talking we heard gun shots and ran back to camp, only to find Mark crumpled on the ground. A few of the men went looking for the outlaws, but it was dark and started raining and they couldn't find anything. The next morning we didn't know what else to do besides head back to town; Mark was in a bad way."

"I'm glad you turned back, no use getting lost in the dessert for no good reason. I'll need each of you to write out a report for me, just incase we do ever catch up with the crooks."

A unified groan sounded from the men, but no one protested the Marshal's order. Micah took back the men's badges and gave them pencils and papers to write out their reports. One by one the men turned their statements into Micah, but no one left the office. They eventually all sat there, staring at the wall, the clock, the floor… anywhere but each other. Finally, Micah understood what they were all wanting the answer to, but not wanting to ask.

"Don't worry, I'll tell Lucas about Mark and no one can blame anyone else for what happened. You were all doing your duty and Mark, as North Fork's official deputy, was injured in the line of duty. I know Lucas and while I can count on him being upset at Mark for trailing after outlaws with his head injury, he wouldn't dream of getting upset at any of you."

The men nodded and let out an involuntary sigh of relief before they slowly started out of the office.

"Micah, when he wakes, will you let me know?" John asked.

"Sure thing, John. Have a good night."

As the banker left the Marshal's office, he couldn't help but worriedly look up the street at the doctor's office. He remembered his first few days in North Fork; he remembered the day a young Mark McCain came to proudly deposit five dollars in the bank. That day, Lucas had gone to confront the man who had robbed a bank. Nearly ten years later, John had watched as Lucas's son, now far from a little boy, had taken charge and led an entire posse after the men that had robbed North Fork's bank. And, John realized, it wasn't just a good friend's son that lied in that clinic. He had a good friend lying in that clinic, one he had come to greatly respect over the last two years. Young as he might have been, Mark McCain was a good, upstanding citizen and loyal friend. The young man had made his share of mistakes, like anyone else in their teenage days, but he well made up for them in more ways then one.

Letting out a heavy sigh, the banker stepped off the board walk and crossed the street, making his way towards the hotel. He took a seat in the hotel's restaurant and waited to see Lou come bustling through the kitchen door with a covered plate in hand.

"John, have ya heard anythin' about Mark? Is he alright?"

"Doc got the bullet out and is waiting for Mark to wake up. But considering the state he was in before he was shot… that could be quite a while."

"Was he really that bad off?" Lou asked as concern continued to grow on her face.

"Unfortunately, yes," the banker answered as he nodded his head. "He could hardly unsaddle BlueBoy the first night we were on the trail. He tried hiding how bad off he was, but I caught him rubbing his head and wincing in pain on several occasions. I don't know if you realized, but he didn't just take a bullet to the side; one grazed his head as well. I don't know much about doctoring, but I do know that second bullet wound isn't going to help anything."

"Has anyone tried wiring Lucas? He should be at market by now, maybe we can send him word and he can catch a train."

"First of all, riding cross country would be faster, but either way it'd still take him at least two days to get home. He was already planning on leaving for North Fork tomorrow morning, anyway. No need to make him worry the whole way home."

"I suppose you're right… I just wish there was a way to get him home faster…"

"Don't worry, he and Mark will both be alright."

"Well I best be getting this over to Doc's for Stephan, Alice can take your order."

"Thanks, Lou."

Lou left the hotel and hurried to the doctor's office with dinner for Stephan and entered the clinic to find the man still arguing with Doc about not being able to teach. As she picked up on the conversation, Lou couldn't help but chuckle at the exasperated look Doc's face held.

"Stephan, I have some supper for ya," Lou offered as she set the plate on Griswold's lap. "And I want to see every last morsel eaten before ya go claimin' to be full."

"Thank you, Lou," Doc stated, thankful for the interruption.

"So are we going to have ta close the school until Stephan is on the mend?"

"It would be the only logical thing to do," the teacher replied. "We can't entrust our children with a last minute substitute from who knows where, with most likely nothing more than-"

"We're looking for someone to step in until Stephan is fully recovered. The town council would never approve delaying the start of the semester for a month when we had another option."

"The other option could be that I teach," Stephan reminded. "This leg isn't as bad as-"

"You went to school to become a teacher, not a doctor, Griswold," Doc answered with growing annoyance in his voice. "When you've had the training of a doctor you can give the advice of a doctor. But seeing as how that will take a few years, I'll call the shots for now."

Stephan picked up a fork and started eating as he finally accepted his sentence.

"Doc is there anything I can do? I have broth on the stove for whenever Mark wakes up, but I know John said that could be quite a while. Is there anything you need?"

"I think I can manage for now, Lou, the offer is appreciated. I will be sure to let you know when Mark does wake up. Until then, the most any of us can do is pray that Mark wakes up, before Lucas returns."

7MC7

The next day crept by for those in North Fork; Mark hadn't made any improvement and everyone was worried for the young deputy's life. Lou, Micah, and John Hamilton frequently stopped by the clinic to check on Mark, walking away disappointed every time.

The second afternoon after Mark's surgery, Micah joined Burrage as the doctor went to the back room of the clinic to check on his patient again. Both men were both pleasantly surprised to find Mark lying on the bed, propping himself up with one elbow while rubbing his head with the opposite hand.

"Well, look who's alive!" Micah exclaimed as he and Doc stepped closer to Mark. "Good to see you awake, Mark. How are you feeling?"

Mark let himself rest back against the bed as he turned his head to look at the two chipper men. "Not as happy to be awake as the two of you are," Mark complained as he closed his eyes. "What happened? I feel like I got shot and beat upside the head."

"Pretty close to it," Doc chuckled. "Based on what your Pa told Micah, you were thrown from your horse a few days ago. Then the bank was robbed and while on the posse you got shot in the side and a bullet grazed your head. What's the last thing you remember?"

Mark thought for a long moment before answering, "I was arguing with Pa about coming back home. …I was on a posse? Oh, Pa's gonna kill me… where is he?"

"Lucky for you, he's still out of town, but due back tonight some time," Micah informed him.

Doc set to examining Mark as the deputy continued to ask questions.

"How long was I out?"

"About a day and a half. The posse brought you and Stephan back night before last."

"Stephan? Micah, what mess did I get myself into?"

Micah chuckled before he went on to tell Mark everything that had transpired over the past few days. Mark was having trouble following Micah and finally gave up trying to remember the story the marshal was telling him. The pain in Mark's head was becoming increasingly worse the longer he stayed awake and he finally interrupted Micah to ask Doc Burrage something.

"Sorry to interrupt, but Doc, do you have something for the pain? My head is killing me, and my side could stand some relief as well."

"Sure thing, Mark," Doc answered before retrieving some medication from a cabinet. "Are you hungry at all? Lou's been keeping broth warm for you, waiting for you to wake up."

Mark took the medicine before replying, "I don't think I could stomach much, but maybe a little wouldn't do too much harm. And I know the sooner I start eating the sooner she'll stop worrying."

"Don't worry, I wouldn't expect you to eat much and it'll be a while before you can handle anything heavier than broth. Everything looks like it'll turn out alright and I reckon you'll start remembering what happened in about a week or so. I'll run over to the hotel and ask Lou to bring something over while Micah finishes filling you in on the details of what happened."

"Thanks Doc." Mark watched the doctor leave the room before turning back to Micah. "Sorry to interrupt, but I needed something for the pain. What happened after they heard the shots?"

"Don't worry about it. They ran back to camp and found you shot up. They tried chasing the outlaws, but it was dark and they couldn't find anything. As luck would have it, it also started raining so the trail got washed out. They brought you and Stephan back the next afternoon."

"I wish I could say I remember, but nothing you told me sounds familiar. I am sorry about losing them, Micah. Apparently I should have been paying better attention."

"Mark, there's nothing to say you could have done anything differently. You don't need to apologize; you're the one that got shot up for goodness sake! You shouldn't have even been on the posse, so don't go blaming yourself."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Mark asked, understanding the insinuation.

Micah looked at his deputy for a long moment, thinking through everything Lou had told him the night the posse left to trail the outlaws.

"I'm sorry Mark, but you're like a grandson to me, I can't help but worry. When I came back to town and found out you went trailing after the criminals in your condition…"

"What else was I supposed to do? Micah, the day you deputized me was the day you asked me to help you protect North Fork and her citizens. If you don't expect me to act like a deputy, then you shouldn't have bothered pinning that badge on my shirt."

"…I know, Mark. I guess I shouldn't have been so surprised that you took off. I trust you… and I respect the choice you made to organize and lead the posse. You're a man, and I suppose it's time I start expecting that you act like one; not that you aren't already. I also suppose that I know that you know your limits and should trust you to make the right decisions when it comes to your well being. But you're my best friend's son; you're practically my grandson, and were long before I ever put that badge on you, so I reserve the right to get worried about you."

"Thanks, Micah, I appreciate it." The marshal and deputy exchanged understanding smiles before Mark went on, "Speaking of pinning the badge on someone, I owe you for a badge."

"What do you mean?" Micah asked in confusion. "All the men returned their badges."

"I just remembered that on my way back home I met a little boy on the train; I couldn't help myself."

"No need to worry about it; though I didn't realize you took your badge with you on the drive."

"It tends to come in handy, people tend to back down a mite quicker when they see a badge."

"You ever try to pick up any ladies with that badge?" Micah teased with a gleam in his eye.

"Just as much as my Pa ever did," Mark quickly replied. "Do you think there's any chance of me getting out of here before Pa gets back?"

"Mark McCain, just how do you plan on hiding two bullet wounds from your Pa? You certainly can't wear your hat day and night. And don't forget about Lou."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. But maybe I can talk Doc into letting me stay over at the hotel. Pa would at least be a little calmer if he knew I was alright enough to be staying at the hotel."

"I don't think you'll feel up to walking over there any time soon, Mark. That wound on your side sure didn't look pretty and I'm sure it doesn't feel too good, even without you putting weight on it."

There was a long silence as Mark hesitated to ask his next question. "…Micah, just how bad was it? I mean, between getting knocked off a horse and getting shot… could I have…?"

"First of all, accept and be grateful for the fact that you didn't die. ... But you know as well as I do that there was a possibility of you dying. But they stopped the bleeding in time and no brain damage was done by the bullet. But just so we're clear, since you were injured in the line of duty you will be getting paid as usual until you can stand your shifts again."

"Until I…" Mark stopped, not having yet realized that he wouldn't be able to watch the office for a few weeks. "But if I'm laid up, how are you going manage?"

"Well I certainly miss having you around, but I've managed for the last two weeks, and I can manage a few more. People are more than willing to help out if I need a hand."

"But I can't let you pay me if I'm not doing anything; that wouldn't be right."

"It would be perfectly fine, and I'm going to do just that. However, I know how you get when you're laid up so I figure once the doc says you're up for it, you can help me catch up on some of that paperwork that's been piling up on my desk."

"Thanks," Mark sarcastically replied; but if he was going to be laid up, he didn't mind the idea of doing paperwork… that much. "So if Stephan's laid up, what about school next week?"

"We sent a wire around and were surprised to get a reply this morning. There's a man from Roswell who used to be a school teacher in California, but moved to Roswell to take care of his mother. She passed away at the beginning of July and he's been taking care of her estate since. He gladly accepted the position, even though it's only temporary."

"You were sure lucky to get a response, especially out here."

"I know, but I had to try. Stephan isn't happy about missing school and we told him it'd be easy to find a substitute, hoping that would suffice, but he's pretty protective of those school children. He keeps saying he's sure a new teacher will pervert their minds."

"He's probably afraid someone will find his stash of candy in the bottom drawer of his desk."

"True," Micah laughed. "Well, Mark, I better get going and get some work done, but I sure am glad to see you awake. Just do me a favor and don't over do it, I want you back in that office just as soon as possible!"

"Yes sir," Mark chuckled. "I'll be seeing you, Micah."

Micah patted Mark's shoulder before turning and leaving the office. As he crossed the street, Micah saw Doc and Lou headed towards the clinic with Mark's meal.

Micah made the rounds before riding out to check up on a few more of the outlining ranches. Figuring Mark would want a few changes of clothes and his notebooks, Micah swung by the McCain's ranch to pick up the items. As Micah was leaving the house, he saw who could only be Lucas riding towards the homestead.

'Well,' Micah thought to himself, 'Here goes nothing…'

Micah greeted Lucas as the rancher brought Razor to a stop in front of the house and dismounted.

"Lucas, how was the trip?"

"Long and dusty, but profitable," Lucas answered. "How's Mark doing? He wasn't too happy about missing the rest of the drive."

"…He's doing," Micah answered, still unsure of how to break the news to Lucas.

"I'll be heading into town just after I clean up. I'm assuming Mark's staying at the hotel?" As Lucas spoke, he walked past Micah and inside the house.

"…Not exactly."

Lucas turned around to see Micah hesitantly making his way inside the home.

"What'd he do, Micah?"

"…His job."

"What's that supposed to mean, Micah?!"

"Mark arrived in town while I was checking on ranches. The bank was robbed and he organized a posse to follow the outlaws. They took Stephan Griswold hostage."

"Stephan Griswold? Micah, when was the last time anyone heard from them? Why did Mark-"

"They're back, Lucas; the trail got washed out. …But not before they found Stephan tied up. And not before… Lucas… the criminals came back around and found Mark alone with Stephan. Now, Mark's fine, but they shot him."

"They what?!" Lucas demanded, not giving Micah time to answer before running out the door and jumping back on Razor.

Micah mounted his own horse and quickly followed after Lucas, trying to explain.

"One grazed his head and he caught the other one in his side. Doc got the bullet out and said he's going to be fine. ...Now, Lucas, I was upset with him too, but he was just trying to do his job! We both agreed Mark becoming a deputy, my deputy, was a good thing. You gave your blessing and I pinned the badge on him; we can't get upset with him for doing something we both approved of, and would have done ourselves! Lucas, are you listening?" Micah let out a heavy sigh as he realized his words were falling on deaf ears.

When the two men got to town, Micah again tried talking some sense into Lucas before he started an argument with his son. As the two men walked into the clinic, Doc Burrage did the same, but to no avail. The marshal and doctor watched the rancher enter his son's room and slam the door behind him.