Note: Hello everyone. Nice to see ya again. Some words are spelled funny to account for the speech of some of the characters and slang of the old west. My timeline is probably not correct and honestly I'm just having fun writing so don't quote me on the dates, and I'm sorry if that bothers you but I really just wanted to have fun and write this story ,not do a lot of research.

Love, Danielle…oh enjoy and remember to review.

Chapter One

The Price

Everything came with a price.

That's what her grandfather had always said.

The price of a happy home with her grandfather had been the death of her parents. The price of loving the dear old man so much was the pain of loss as he past away. The price of having nothing left after the finial bills had been paid was her pride. Now Serena stared at the crumpled and flimsy ticket in her gloved hand. One dollar and forty three cents had been the price of a one way ticket to the territory of Texas where she would begin her new life.

Inwardly she cringed and tried to hold on to her tattered pride. The truth of the matter was that her grandfather had left her in debt, and it had taken everything in the house they had shared, including the house in Boston to keep the creditors nipping at the her heals at bay. .

Now the only thing to her name was three outfits, two pairs of undergarments, a pair of shoes, two ribbons, one luggage bag, and a simple silver heart necklace she had refused to sell. A present from her Grandfather when she had turned thirteen. Hidden beneath the high neck line of her dull gray gown, she clutched it to her heart and stepped on to the train.

Head held high she walked the long beaten hallway of the train to her compartment. Inside she found two other families, each with a number of loud, wailing children. Scooting by she found a seat, pulling the bag on to her lap she stared out the window. Her stomach lurched as the train surged forward on the rails, the sound of children's sobbing droned on in her ears and slowly she closed her eyes.

The town of Mason, Texas was her destination and from what the news papers had said it would take her three weeks to reach it, another train, and a stage coach. Mason was where Mina Williams lived, a lovely woman a few years older than herself that just happened to be the only family friend willing to take her in and give her a job. From the letters penned to and from Mina, Serena knew several things for certain.

First, Mina was happily married.

Second, she had two children and one on the way.

Third, life in the west was hard, and it was harder for a woman with out a man.

And the third item certainly fit her circumstances.

Grimly she reminded herself it was not from a lack of offers. It was just the men that had offered had not been what she had wanted in a husband. A drunkard, a mama's boy, or a gambler were not on her list of what would make a good husband.

So it seemed her grandfather was right. The price of her stubbornness was a one way ticket into the unknown and if rumor had it the unsavory.

Darien Darling gave a long pull on the cigar between his teeth and stared down at the wanted posters in his hand.

Wanted:

The McLain Gang

Three Brothers

Dead or Alive

$150 per head

Looking back up he stared at the swinging door of the haggard saloon. Rumor had it that this was where the McLain gang came to fill up on whiskey, sleep, and women. Though not necessarily in that particular order. It had taken him nearly two weeks to track the gang this far, as the three brothers were often sporadic in their handy work, the robberies were never clean or with out fuss. He guessed that one could always thank God for small favors and well drawn wanted posters.

Leaning back in his booth he kept his back pressed tightly against the wooden wall with out looking obvious. Years of bounty hunting had taught him how to guard his back and watch his mirrors. Palming his six shooter, he sat quietly and projected the image of a bad down on his luck and willing to drown himself in spirits. The folks of the 'Golden Garter' knew the McLain boys and often made a nice bit of cash off the robberies. They'd be sure to tell if anyone came about asking the wrong type of questions.

Therefore, no question. Only a bed, a bottle, and maybe the delightful red head wandering about.

Swallowing the glass of whiskey he grimaced at the bite in the gritty liquid. This was his last job, the cash for the three brothers would put him just over the top. Just over the top to by a nice slab of land and start his own cattle ranch. It would be nice change of pace, not being shot at on a monthly bases. Hell, just sleeping in a bed regularly would be a nice change in his daily routine.

"Hiya sugar," the redhead cooed, wigging her hips a bit to much as she moved her way over to him.

He nodded to her.

She sat right into his lap after a moments hesitation and curled her curvy figure around his upper torso. Obviously she thought a nod was encouragement enough for some bed play and a coin for her favors.

Shooting back his last bit of whiskey he stood quickly from the table, holstered his gun, and had the red head threshold style and climbing the stairs before she could even make a peep of surprise. On the side of his neck she giggled delighted at his movement. Kissing his neck she cooed in a fake tone, "I hope ya ain't in that much of a hurry sugar,"

Darien never answered her, merely kicked open the door to his room and placed her on the bed.

"What's ya name?" she asked.

He looked up from untucking his shirt, pinning her with an icy stared that cut off her questions. He wanted no questions, no names, and no ties. With out any of those it made the act easier to forget after it was done. Nothing more than a heady release for his body before he continued with his life.

His sister said his eyes were cold.

Cold eyes, cold heart, and cold soul.

He figured that was the price to pay for his part in the war. No one escaped unscathed and he was no expectation to the rule.

Shaking his head, allowing his long dark hair to escape from it tie, he crawled on to the wide bed and on top of the warm red head. When your cold, Darien thought, there's never a moments hesitation or fleeting spark of shame to slake your lust on a woman that will never have a face or name.

That's just the price you paid for looking death in the eye.

Serena bit her lip until she could taste blood. Closing her eyes and pressing herself tightly against back of the stage coach and tried to steady her shaking hands and rapid breathing. Pressed next to her was Mr. Myers, his plump wife, and two whining children. On her other side was a Dr. Charles Jackson who had already promptly fainted at the sight of the stage coach robbers. So there would be no help from that quarter of the party. Though there was most likely not to be any help from the other quarter of the party next to her either. Mrs. Myers had a firm grip on her husband and nothing short of death was going to pry her off or cause the sniveling Mr. Myers to do anything brave.

Eyes dropped to the thick western red dirt, Serena tracked there movements and prayed slightly that her drab outfit and oversized hat hid her from the three men pacing in front of her. She had already overheard one of the three men complaining that he needed a woman 'som'in powrful'ly bad' and she was quite sure that he was not speaking of a wife.

"Not a damn thang," one of the men snarled, dropping the empty luggage bag to the ground. The brown carpet bag collided with the already bloody head of the stage coach driver. Tearing her gaze from bloody mess she concentrated on her breathing and desperately tried to keep her meager breakfast down.

She really didn't want to draw attention to herself.

"Thems some poor folks, and not even a babble or two taa pawn off," the second one whined, coming to stand next to first man. The third had yet to speak, and he paced quickly in front of her eyes, obviously just as upset as the others. Peaking up sharply, she watched him turn and begin to regard the rest of the stage coach.

"Them horses would fetch a mighty fine price," the first answered, "And I bet we could get some coins fer the frocks on the fat one," he pointed to Mrs. Myers. Serena could hear her squeak in protest before catching herself and realizing that she might be in mortal danger, "But I reckon there won't be much cash from this robbery." In disappointment he began dusting off his hat on his thigh.

Next to her, Serena could hear one of the men unhooking the horses and raiding Mrs. Myers of her extra garments.

"Maybe we could git som'in fer them young'ens," the second one boasted, moving quickly he picked up the smaller boy and held him in the air. Mrs. Myers wailed her protests and Mr. Myers began to stutter violently.

Serena jumped forward, snatching the child she pressed both behind her back and glared up from the shadows of her hat at the large man in front of her.

"You will leave these children alone," she commanded in her most imperiously tone possible. The tone she reserved for the school children she had taught for the past year. The tone certainty got attention.

All three heads snapped in her direction. The third and finial man pressed his way past his brother and grinned wolfishly down at her.

"Will I now?" he questioned, racking his gaze down her body he took her in. Serena shuddered in revolts and distinct smell coming from him. He flipped the dull, oversized hat from her head. His prefect smile grew uglier as she long golden hair tumbled from underneath the hat and around her waist.

He was sizing her up. The way a buyer looked at a roast or fresh fruit.

"Ya'r right Taiki them some poor folks. But this here's a pretty woman and she'll fetch a mighty high price at market." he laughed at her when her eyes widened.

Serena gulped back a scream and stepped backwards out of reflex and fear. When he reached out to touch her, she lashed out. Striking him hard on the chin, hard enough to turn his head and get a grunt out of him.

She never had a chance when his fist slammed into her chin, sending her flying backwards into the dirt. As the red dust cloud settled around her, her vision began to waver.

"Ah now Seiya, why'd ya hafta go and do that fer?" the first one whined again, "It be nice to rut at her if her face is still all pretty like."

Seiya knelt next to her in the dirt, with the sun beating down over head she could only see the out line of his long thin body, but heaven knows she could certainly smell him.

His voice was loud and clear, "We ain't going to be ruttin on this one," relief spiked through her body, her vision began to blur, "We'll get more fer her if she a virgin, a ladies as fine as this always are."

"Ya say'in we can't have a go at her?" the second one demanded.

"Well…" he backhanded her again, "Maybe one go won't hurt nothing'."

Serena blacked out at the finial statement.

Darien had been right when he figured that it was only a matter of time before the McLain gang crawled their way back into the 'Golden Garter' Saloon with cash in tow and raising all sorts of hell. What he hadn't counted on was the three brothers dragging a woman along in their wake.

He watched silently as the three men pulled up a place at the nearest table, knocking several others out of their way in the rush for booze, and what accounted for a hot meal around here. The woman was tugged along, and given several hard shoves as she resisted the rope curved around her slender wrists. He couldn't tell if she was terrified or just amazed at the inside of the saloon. Her blue eyes were large, and made even larger widened behind a thick gag across her face. Even from the distance in the smoky atmosphere it was obvious that her pale skin was burnt, and the dark circles under eyes indicated exhaustion that went to the bone. She was thin, far to thin for her willowy figure.

She most likely hadn't had a decent meal for a good while. He frowned. Much longer than beginning in company of the McLain gang.

Either way, she was not from around these parts. Leaning back in his usual booth he watched the events through a hooded gaze.

Serena stumbled in to the saloon steps behind the man she had learned was called Seiya. Hungry, exhausted, and terrified she crumpled to a heap beside Seiya's chair as the outlaw pulled violently on the rope to gain her attention. Underneath her weight her legs trembled from the gruesome riding of the past three days. Biting her lip against the pain, she carefully examined her wrists as the rope gain slack again. They were chafed, and beginning to bleed. Her skin felt sore and her lips had blistered and were extremely to the touch.

Shame rolled over her heart as she remembered that she had been touched. Seiya had kissed her brutally, laughing when she cried out. In the dead of night two days ago he placed his hands on her body, mocking her when tears began to fall and taunting her with phrases she didn't fully understand. He had not raped her, but it had been close.

To close.

"This the bit ya want taa sell?"

Serena jerked her head up, aware suddenly at a gross inspection of her person.

"Such a pretty thang will fetch a good price at auction," Seiya bragged, tugging her to feet. She stumbled when her legs refused to take her weight and fell forward slightly on the floor.

"A good price?" the woman repeated, she sounded skeptical. Serena stiffened, and desperately tried to rise gracefully to her feet. She would not have the woman looking down on her.

The woman arched a bright red brow in response and a mocking smirk curved on her painted lips. "I'll have taa clean her up before the auction."

Seiya nodded, handing over the ties to the bright red head.

Serena's eyes widened, fear spiked high, making her breathing erratic. Struggling she pulled backwards on the rope, wanting to escape her fate and not caring were she went in return. She caught the red head off guard and was able to propelled backwards.

But that was as far as her luck went. She tripped and landed hard on the floor, a foot from her original position. Laughter rang around her, thundering in the tiny space.

"Alan! Come take this whore to be washed and dressed," the red head laughed, and turned as soon as a large man had swung her over his shoulder.

"No! No!" she screamed, struggling wildly in his arms. Kicking her feet she screamed.

Her actions earned her a hard smack across the face.

She should have learned by now. Now one was going to help her.

That was the price for traveling in to a land of lawless bastards and battered women.

"She's a virgin," Seiya said.

Darin snorted. Like hell. The filthy outlaw probably raped the young woman the first chance he got.

It appeared that Beryl. The proprietor of the establishment was no fool.

"Really?" she asked intrigued. But then, Darien thought, some men were fool over virgins and the sell would be higher.

That's were the girl was heading, up on the auction block to the highest bidder.

Lazily he made his way over to the table were the three brothers sat, they had pulled out a deck of cards and a bottle of whiskey.

"Care if I join the game?" he asked directly. Looking all three in the eyes. If he had to kill them, he wanted to mark them. They would know who sent them to the angel of death. They sized him up, seeing just how much coin he was worth.

Finally a stiff nodded and several cards were past his way.

On the second floor he could still her the shouts of the young girl. She was protesting the whores stripping her nude for a bath.

Putting two cards down on the table, he glanced upwards towards the ceiling. If the war hadn't burnt out all the warmth in his heart he would've been sorely tempted to say put and not kill the three brothers in cold blood for their actions.

Shifting slightly, he slipped the dull six shooter on to his lap.

Hell, he still might, just for the satisfaction.

No one deserved the fate that she was about to receive.

But he had his own problems.

And that was just the price of forgetting how to care.

Soooo what did you think? Tell me! Please and remember to review!!!!!

Love, Danielle.