That must be 'Daddy', she thought.

"Well howdy ma'am. I'm Marshall McGrottel. This here is my caravan, little lady. I found you alongside of the highway a couple miles back with your head beat up and surrounded by dead bodies. My wife patched you up" he said in a matter-a-factly manner. He continued, "That actually brings me to my next point. What happened back there?"

"That depends" the courier said. She then jumped down from the wagon, almost lost her balance from the pain in her head and back, and then stood up straight to appear as though she wasn't hurt as bad as she was and continued, "am I in danger?"

Marshall pulled out a pack of cigarettes, offered the courier one to which she denied and lit one of his own. He took a deep drag and looked to the sky as he exhaled. "As long as you're not part of the Legion or any other of them vagrants who kill for the fun of it, then you're as safe as a fly on a brahmin's back."

The courier let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. Her shoulders were sore from the fall so she relaxed them. Slumped over she looked much less intimidating. Being only 5', 4" and less than well fed she was small in stature. What the courier lacked in size however she made up for with her wits.

She looked to Marshall. "I was attacked. They set up a trap, and I walked right into it. They had me" She paused remembering the junkies so hooked on different chems that they fought over who gets to do what to her. She shuddered at the thought.

"They got into an argument. It turned into a shootout."

"I reckoned by the amount of jet and psycho we found on their bodies had something to do with it" Marshall said, "Do you know what they were arguing about?"

The courier looked down at her shoes.

Marshalls eyes darkened. "Sorry".

"I survived only because I was 8 feet in the air. Once they all…. Died, I tried to get down. As you can see" She pointed to her wrapped up head, "I fell".

Marshall took a step towards the courier. He raised his hands "You're safe with us. This is my caravan and everyone who is here has earned their place. I'd trust them all with my life and my family. You're welcome to travel with us until you're feeling better."

Marshall smiled. The courier was cautious. She had learned that trust was something that causes hurt.

"Where are you heading?"

He grunted, "The 188. It's not much but it's a nice little stop before you get to the Grub 'n' Stop on your way to New Vegas"

"I think I'll stay with you until then but I can't guarantee that I will after we reach The 188." She told him, "I really appreciate the help. I owe you my life."

"Don't worry about nothin'. I never could say no to a stranger in need." Marshall chuckled.

"Thanks anyways" the courier responded.

"Well we better get a move on. We're only burning daylight standing out here. Will you be alright walking?" Marshall said.

"I'll be fine" she said back.

"Alrighty then. Off we go" With another whistle, the caravan was moving again.

Walking wasn't so bad for the courier. Following Marshall to the front of the caravan, she gently touched her fingertips to the bump on her forehead. The swelling had gone considerably down since she last touched it.

"You said your wife helped me out?" the courier asked the man. "Where is she now?"

"My wife goes to and fro as she pleases. Damn good at it too. She's the sneakiest dame in the whole wasteland. She uses her skills to help the caravan travel. Right now she is scouting the highway up ahead" Marshall said. He sighed. "I wish she didn't insist in going alone… I worry about her, but she works better by herself. 'Sides, she could walk right up to ya and kiss you on your mouth before you saw her" He blushed.

"Sounds lovely" the courier said. She too liked to work alone. Not because she knew she could handle most situations, but rather because she didn't like to worry about the wellbeing of those around her. She had gotten a few friends of hers hurt bad before and didn't plan on making the same mistake twice.

"Isn't it a little dangerous to have a family on the road?" She asked Marshall.

He let out a small chuckle, "Ain't more dangerous than leaving 'um at home, unprotected. At least with them here I know they're safe. I'd rather watch over them myself, you know?"

"No, I don't." The courier said flatly.

"I guess I'd just rather have the closure of knowing whether I was able to protect them in the end." He said and looked to his feet as he walked.

They walked for the next couple of miles in near silence. Marshall made small talk at first, but he eventually gathered that the courier didn't want to talk anymore.

As they got closer to the 188 trading post the sun was only an hour or so from dipping below the horizon. They were only about a mile or so from the destination when the caravan met back up with Marshall' wife.

Just like Marshall had described, she was sneaky. Before the courier even saw her, she was right under her nose nuzzling her face into Marshall's chest with the biggest hug. She was also small like the courier, however she did seem to be a couple inches taller than the courier herself. Although short, she appeared very limber and athletic. Her dark leather clothes hid her body in a way the courier didn't understand.

His wife let go and looked into his eyes with a passionate smile, "All clear up ahead, sugar. All the way to the 188" She looked to the courier with a different but equally as friendly smile. "Look who's still alive and kickin'. When we found you under that electrical tower I wasn't so sure you were alive, but Marshall knew you were so we brought you along. And now here you are!" She held out a hand to the courier, "My name is Laurel. It's a pleasure to meet you"

The courier looked at the woman. She was beautiful in her own way. Her face had age and experience, but her motions carried life. Something about her seemed to make her more trustworthy. The courier accepted her hand with her own and they shook.

"I wish I knew my name or I'd tell ya."

"Oh that's right, I forgot to even ask your name!" Marshall added.

Laurel frowned and smacked him in the chest. She turned back to the courier "That's too bad. What should we call you then?"

What have people been calling me she thought to herself. What her name was hadn't really mattered to the people trying to hurt or kill her the last couple of weeks. The other friendly people didn't care for finding out what her name was. I guess it just make it easier to forget them when they're gone if they don't have a name.

"Call me whatever you want, Laurel. I don't mind"

"I think everyone should have a name. Especially girls who are as pretty as you are" she said with a smile.

The courier blushed. She had only been told that when she was in danger by people she didn't want anything to do with.

"I don't have the right to give you a name, and I respect that you don't have one, so I will let you know if I am talking to you" Laurel said with a small smile.

"It's gonna be dark soon and I'd rather we set up camp at the 188 than out here in the open." Marshall said to his wife.

"Right" she said as she turned her direction towards him. Her tone changed into business rather than fun. "I didn't see any danger in the last stretch of the highway. The 188 is just right around that turn".

"Good. Let's keep moving"