Days turned into weeks and those turned into the marking of her first month in the middle of nowhere, bored out of her fucking mind. The only thing worth mentioning that happened during that time was the bruise on her had faded enough that she didn't need to use as much cover up to hide it. There was still discoloration because she was so pale, but it wasn't so black it put a sharpie to shame anymore. It was that really annoying yellow ocher color with a green tent. Good thing too because she was out of liquid based concealer and refused to go out in public to get more until it couldn't be seen at all.

Best laid plans never go according to plan for her however.

She was curled up on the porch swing reading a book when her uncle came out and took a seat next to her and patted her leg. Finishing the sentence she was reading, she put her book down and smiled at him, "Hey Uncle Marsh. What's up?"

Rubbing the back of his neck a few times, Marshal looked over at his niece, "well, your aunt and I are goin' to the show this afternoon and we want you to come with us."

Blanching at the thought knowing that he was referring to the rodeo that they have been talking about for the last week and not a movie, she shook her head a little, "Uncle Marsh…"

He cut her off, "you been cooped up in this house a month now, Isa-bee. It's about time you went out and did somethin'. There are plenty of kids your age 'round. I am sure that you will have no problem makin' nice with 'em."

Shaking her head a little, "That's not it, Uncle Marsh."

He cocked a challenging brow at her, "That so, now? Then tell me what it is, Isabella?"

Dropping her face into her palm knowing he was about to get pissed off because that was the only time he used her actual name. Sighing hard, she looked back up at him, "It's just not my thing, Uncle Marsh."

Crossing his arms and leaning back onto the arm of the swing, "Really now? You ever been to one?" Seeing both the defeat in her eyes and the shake of her head, he cocked his, "Then how you know? Honestly Isa-bee, you actin' like your life is over and in truth, you the one keepin' yourself from livin', Child. Think about it. We're leavin' in an hour."

Dropping her head back on the headrest of the swing, Isabella closed her eyes and sighed. It wasn't like she was against spending time with her aunt and uncle outside the house. It was that she was out of the necessary items to cover the fucking evidence that she was a fucking idiot and an hour wasn't enough time to both get ready to go AND go the nearest bigger town to the store to get it. It was one or the other and since she didn't have transportation, she was gonna just have to cover it with her hair and pray there was no wind today.

Yeah, 'cause praying got you anywhere. Her luck, the wind would be gale force.

With heavy feet, she trudged inside and up the steps to her room to figure out what the hell you ever wear to a fucking rodeo. Knowing from just being out there that it was hot as shit outside, she went with a pleated jean skirt and a white tank top that showed way more skin than she wanted but she was lazy over the last month and didn't take her dirty clothes down stairs to get them washed like her aunt kept telling her to. It wasn't that it was way low cut or anything, but it was normally used as a pajama top so it only came down to under her ribs and above her belly button. Not knowing what kind of literal shit was going to be lying on the ground, she opted for socks and her ratty old sneakers so she didn't ruin her good tennis shoes.

Once all that was figured out, she went and got a shower. No need to smell like shit just because you were going to be around it.

After she got out, she blow dried her hair straight then went hunting for her red bandanna to use to keep her hair in place once she got it to lay right over her face. There wasn't any way to do her hair that would cover it all, but she was able to cover most of it, well, the worst of it which was right over her cheekbone. All she could think as she walked down the steps forty-five minutes later was thankfully the swelling mostly went away and you had to be relatively close to see it now.

She dug through her purse that was on the dining room table for some cash and her I.D. on the off chance that there was going to be alcohol for sale because she wasn't sure she could make it through this sober. After slipping that into her bra, she gave herself a once over in the mirror in the entryway and decided it was as good as it was gonna get, grabbed a jacket out of the closet and left out the front door to meet up with her aunt and uncle who were waiting outside for her.

The ride to the fairgrounds was both quiet and uneventful. She didn't want to be there and the older adults knew it so neither of them pressed her to talk or try to get her excited about it.

Once there, Isabella followed her aunt and uncle through the crowd to the ticket booth and then to the arena set up in the very center of the grounds and finally to the stands so she knew where they were going to be because she, thankfully, saw a beer vendor. After leaving them with her jacket and telling them where she was going and asking if they wanted anything, she was off to get some liquid comfort.

It didn't take her horribly long to find the stand again but the waiting in line sure as fuck did. Looks like she isn't the only one that couldn't sit through this sober. Good to know that even the locals needed beer to enjoy this, made her feel a little better.

She was three people from the front when there was the most god awful annoying voice behind her. "Lord have mercy, did you see him? I swear that he gets hotter every time I see him."

Okay, she was wrong. The NEXT voice was the most annoying thing she had ever heard. It was high pitched and nasally and just, yuck.

"HIM? Sweetie, did you see his brother? THAT man is god's gift to the world. This honey knows what I'm talkin' 'bout." Then, to her horror, she felt a tap on her shoulder.

Looking to the sky and asking for something, ANY thing to not hit the bitch, Isabella glanced over her shoulder and had to work at swallowing the groan that was crawling up her throat. There before her was a blonde chick that really needed a root touch up with what had to be the WORST implant job she had ever seen; and she was from Cali. Moving her eyes just a tad, she then saw a legal midget with black hair that was sticking up all over the place like the short shit shoved a fork in an electrical outlet.

Looking back at the one that was looking at her like they were best friends, she cocked a brow, "Yeah?"

The blonde pointed a thumb at the midget, "tell this little tart that Peter is SO much hotter than Jasper." When all Isabella did was blink at her, the blonde huffed a little, "Well, alright, I guess they look an awful lot alike being brothers and all, but Peter totally tops Jasper." Getting a pointed look, "Don't he?"

Blinking once again and for lack of anything else to say, Isabella just gave a little shrug as she heard 'Next' called and it was her turn, "Yeah, sure. He's sex on legs." Turning back to the counter, she gave the worker an imploring look, "the biggest beer you got, please."

The guy smirked at her and asked to see her I.D.. While looking at it, "Have a little too much fun at the shindig last night, Sugar?" Not knowing what the fuck he was talking about but not really wanting to get ask why she wanted that much beer without a reason, she said yes and took her I.D. back and handed him a ten for the glass of beer, telling him to keep the change. "Much obliged, Ma'am. You enjoy yourself now."

Not likely. Smiling at the guy, "I will, thanks." Moving out of the way and around the side of the stand, Isabella brought the cup to her lips and started chugging, drinking a quarter of it so it didn't spill as she was walking.

As she was about to start looking for a place to get her aunt and uncle the requested hot dogs, the most annoying creature ever born started talking again. "I didn't see you at the party last night."

Lifting her eyes and seeing the hazel eyes of the bottle blonde again, she just shrugged a bit, "didn't see you either. Guess that makes us even, doesn't it?"

The bottle blonde narrowed her eyes a little at her, "I don't reckon I ever seen you before ANY where."

Isabella winked, "new in town. Not really a shocker that you haven't seen me around."

The bottle blonde blinked once before she broke out in a wide grin and held out a hand, "Oh, well, sorry, Sugar. Welcome to town. I'm Char."

Isabella looked at the hand presented to her a second before looking back to at her face, "Good for you. Excuse me." She never did have a lot of tolerance for fakes.

As she was turning to walk away, Char scoffed a loud noise, "Oh, hell naw. You don't just dismiss me like that."

One thing about being in an abusive relationship, you get kick ass reflexes. Plus, the stupid bitch was a little top heavy. Stepping to the side a twisting a little, Isabella was able to avoid the sneak attack from behind. Instead of getting tackled, she stood there and watched as Char basically dove face first into the dirt, grunting rather loud when she hit.

The midget ran to her friend's side and crouched down next to her asking in a high pitched voice that hurt Isabella's ears is she was alright before turning on her with a glare, "You fuckin' bitch. What the hell did you do that for?"

Isabella just blinked once before glowering, "I didn't even fucking touch her, you stupid mutant midget. She came after me half-cocked and ready to explode, not the other way around. Now, as I said, excuse me."

Turning on her heel, she walked away before the problem could escalate anymore. 'Make nice with 'em my ass, Uncle Marsh'. Taking her time, Isabella walked along the different booths and drank her beer, seeing what was there while she hunted down the elusive creature called a hot dog vender. When she was about three quarters of the way down the path of stalls, she happened to look over and her heart stopped, her beer hitting the ground. There, not fifteen feet from her was her worst nightmare come true… looking right back at her.

She watched in absolute terror as his eyes lit up even as that dark, cruel smirk that she would never forget pulled his lips apart, showing the perfect teeth on the other side. The voice that used to melt her into a puddle froze her blood in her veins as it caressed her ears like a long lost lover, "Well, hello, Love. I have been looking all over for you."

Tears prickled her eyes as he took a step towards her, but she was able to squeak out, "how?"

The crooked smile darkened just a little and his eyes brightened all the more at the fear in her voice. "The computer is a wonderful device. We never got to finish our little talk. I think we should do that, now."

What got her feet moving was when she saw his hand began to raise. Pivoting on point, she darted off like a bullet from a gun back the way she came. She bobbed and weaved through the masses, never pausing but glanced over her shoulder, whimpering when she saw he was following her. The only thing she had on her side was the one that that had always worked against her before; her size. She was so much smaller in comparison that she was able to squeeze through spots that he wasn't.

Turning back to look where she was going, she skidded to a stop when she saw the two girls from the beer stand straight ahead of her looking like two pissed off princesses, and she knew they were looking for her. Whimpering again, she looked back over her shoulder and saw Edward closing the distance she was able to put between them faster than she could think of a plan. It was then that the tears broke the dam she built over the last month. Glancing to the side of her, she saw a path between the vendor stands so she pushed off with her left foot and lunged to the right, twisting around and running again. She wasn't sure if the two girls saw her or not, but she knew that Edward saw where she went. All she had to do was regain lost ground and then find a place to hide for a little while before making the attempt to find her aunt and uncle to get the fuck out of there.

She hadn't seen anyone on the path when she took it, so she kept her head down, watching where she was going so she didn't trip over roots or cords. Turning to look over her shoulder again, she saw Edward take the turn and was behind her again, a glare on his face.

Then he yelled, shooting ice water down her spine, "get back here, Isabella!"

Since she was looking behind her, she didn't see that there were people in front of her now; so she slammed HARD into the back of the person standing there. So hard in fact that she was knocked backwards onto her back, her bandana long since gone in her mad dash and the guy she hit was knocked forward and would have probably fell on his face had he not had someone in front of him to stop that from happening.

Peter whirled around with a 'what the fuck' after his brother got him steady on his feet and saw a guy that looked about his age slide to a stop but ignored him for a minute, looking down to see who it was that ran into him. What he saw would haunt him for the longest time, he was sure of it. There was nothing but a tiny little thing pushing herself up into a lounging position from laying herself out from running into him. That wasn't the part that tore at him, it was the look on her face when she glanced up to see what happened… that and what he saw ON her face.

There were tears flowing like a river down her face, falling from eyes that were full of the purest fear he had ever seen in his life. What had his attention however, was the nearly healed bruise that took over, over half her face. That was when he lifted only his eyes back up to get another look at the guy that was now backing away from the scene. It took a second, but it then clicked where he knew that face from. He had seen a clip on the news about a month ago about a woman beater that skipped town after his daddy posted his bail when he was Vegas.

That mother fucker.

Talking in a quiet voice to his brother so that the son of a bitch couldn't hear him, "Jazz, 'member that sumbitch from the news last month, the one from Cali that jumped bail; Collin, Cullen; what the fuck ever his name was?"

Jasper looked up from the girl that just could not seem to get her bearings to his brother, "yeah, why?"

Peter nodded at Edward as he continued to back away, "that's 'im." Then he put his cigarette between his lips and held out a hand, "hand me my rifle. Imma shoot 'im."

Shrugging a shoulder, Jasper picked up the gun he dropped in lieu of catching his brother and smacked it against Peter's palm, "Don't miss."

Twirling the rifle around into a better grip and, after cocked it loaded, he raised the barrel to take aim, "Never do."

Edward heard the 'cock' of the shotgun and, narrowly avoiding pissing himself, pivoted on his heel and bolted. Just before he reached the crowd, he heard a deep baritone voice covered in a thick southern twang, "you better run, Boy. Iffen I see ya again, I pull the fuckin' trigger."

Shaking his head and sneering in absolute disgust, Peter handed his gun back to his brother, who wasted no time uncocking it, and grunted, taking his smoke from his mouth and crossing his arms, "fuckin' pussy. Ain't no bigger weaklin' in the world than a man that can hit a lady and not take his licks in return."

Jasper snorted and crossed his arms, "You was aimin' to kill 'im, Pete. You expected different?"

Peter shook his head and glanced back at him, "I said I was gonna shoot 'im. Didn't say nothin' 'bout killin' 'im."

Jasper rolled his eyes and gave his brother a flat look, "You was gonna kill 'im."

Peter just smirked, "I was prolly gonna kill 'im." Then he turned his attention to the little lady that was still on the ground trying to figure out what happened. Taking one last hit, he flicked his cigarette butt into the dirt a few feet away and crouched down into a squatting position, "Hey there, Little Darlin'; you alright?"

Distant eyes looked up at him, seeing but not. She was still crying something fierce, whimpering like a wounded pup every now and then tearing his heart to pieces with every sound she made. When she spoke, her voice was airy, confused; "Patrick?"

A small smile pulled at his lips, "Close, Little Darlin'. I'm Peter" then he nodded backwards, "and this here's my brother Jasper." Peter watched as she tried to connect the dots but, somewhere between the fear and more than likely a crack on the back of the head from falling, something was getting lost for her. Pursing his lips a little, he tilted his head a bit, "what's your name, Little Darlin'?"

She blinked and tripped over her tongue a few times, but was finally able to answer that for him, "Isabella."

Nodding to her, he then looked over his shoulder at Jasper, "find a security guard or stable hand and have 'em go to the announcer's booth. Tell 'em to make one and have whoever she came with taken to the stables. I'll get her there."

Jasper nodded and was about to head off and do that when Peter stopped him, "leave my gun."

It had taken nearly ten minutes to get the little thing to the stable she was so out of it. In the end, Peter ended having to carry her, his rifle tucked under the arm that was under her knees.

When he got there, he asked for one of the paramedics and went over to his truck, took the tailgate down and, propping a foot on it first to help hold the little lady in his arm, he took his gun out from under his arm and set it on the gate before shifting his hold on the girl and sitting her down on it as well before picking his rifle back up. He was absolutely dead serious about shooting the fucker if he happened to see him again.

He leaned a hip against the side of his truck, gun across his shoulders with his arms draped over it, and crossed his ankles as they waited for the medical personnel to show up. His best guess was she was in shock and he was still pretty sure she got knocked for a doozie when she ran into him. For as small as she is, he was amazed that she had nearly succeeded in taking HIM to the ground too. Hell, she would have had Jasper not been there. He was at least a full foot taller than her and probably outweighed her by a hundred pounds; give or take a few. She would be lucky to weight 120 and he was 230; solid.

Turning his head to look at her, he got a great shot of her profile and from where he was standing, he could see there was still swelling. No, not a lot but it was noticeable if you were close enough and at the right angle. The thing that got him was that was at least a month old and wasn't fully healed yet.

He was pulled back to the stables by a hand asking him if he needed anything. Glancing at the little lady again, he nodded to her, "get her a Coke." Once the hand was off to grab the girl something to drink, he moved from the side of his truck and crouched down in front of her again, moving his gun from his shoulders to between his bent knees and grasped it with both hands, and looked up at her, trying to catch her eyes. They were still distant and full of fear and confusion, but she had finally seemed to stop crying. Thank fuckin' god too 'cause ladies and tears was somethin' he couldn't handle.

As he was getting ready to talk to her, she beat him to it, but her voice was still quiet and unsure, "thank you."

Peter smiled at her, "weren't nothin' Little Darlin'. Just 'member this now; the sun don't shine on the same dog's tail all the time."

She blinked at him a few times before speaking again, "What does that mean?"

Smile growing a little more, "means that boy is gonna get everythin' he deserves someday."

She lowered her eyes from his and he found himself a tad upset at that, then she snorted softly, "karma, right?"

He took a deep breath through his nose and let it out slowly, humming a bit while he did, "Karma, Little Darlin', takes a coon's age to catch up to someone. What I said pertains to the closer future than that."

Nodding a little, her eyes then moved to the gun he was using to hold himself up, "would you really have shot him?"

There was no hesitation at all on Peter's part when he nodded, "you bet your ass I would've. I'll break any fucker that raises a hand to a lady with no regret and damn the consequences of it. My mama raised me to respect and cherish a lady and those that mistreat 'em, don't deserve the life God gave 'em."

She shook her head and sighed a little, "They sure don't make guys like that where I come from."

Before he had a chance to say anything back to her, there was a shout of Isabella, scaring a shriek of terror out of her and causing her to shove herself back into the truck bed, and in response to that, Peter cocked his rifle again and, in a motion as fluid as water in a stream, stood and turned, raising the barrel and taking aim.

Seeing that it was his brother with a security guard and two older adults, he raised the barrel and flipped the safety back on before stepping to the side so the little lady could see who it was that called for her, but her eyes had once again gone completely out of focus.

While the girl's aunt and uncle went over to the truck, Jasper went straight to his brother, grabbing the barrel of the rifle and yanked it out of his hand, "you grounded boy. You ever point this at me again and I shove it up your ass, ya hear?"

Peter just rolled his eyes as he lit a cigarette. Taking a hit and blowing out the smoke, "you the dumb fuck that left it with me."

"You asked me too."

"You listened."

"Mr. Whitlock?"

Both boys looked behind them at the medic standing there and responded at the same time, "yeah?"

When Peter saw who it was though, he jerked his head at his truck, "It's the Little Lady in the bed." Once he was heading the right direction, Peter turned back to Jasper, "and I ain't fuckin' grounded."

Jasper just rolled his eyes at him before they both turned their attention to the spring chicken that was about to crawl out of her skin. She wasn't putting up a fight or anything but she wasn't really making it easy for the medic to check her out either.

The older gentleman that came over with Jasper turned to the brothers a second before glancing to his niece. Making up his mind, he turned back to the boys and walked over to them, gratefulness in his eyes when he held a hand out to Peter, "Much obliged, Son, that you helped my niece."

Peter smiled at him as he clasped the man's hand in the grip his Pa taught him when he was a kid. "As I told the little lady, Sir, weren't nothin'. My momma would beat me with a switch had I stood there an' done nothin'."

A respectful light lit in Marshal's eyes at that, "I reckon you right, but thanks just the same." He looked at the boys hard for a minute before something clicked in his mind, "You Jim and Bev's boys, ain't cha?" At their nods, he smiled wide, "I ain't seen ya'll two since you was knee high to short Indian." Then he looked over his shoulder at his wife, seeing her looking back at him with an expectant look and crossing his arms, "you boys gonna be in town long?"

Peter looked over at his brother a moment before looking back, "couple days at least I reckon. Gotta spend some time with mama 'fore we head back on out or face the hand of our Pa."

Still looking at his wife a minute longer, Marshal turned back to the boys, "my wife would skin me alive if I didn't invite ya'll over for dinner to thank ya proper for what ya'll did for our girl." That light in his eyes got a little brighter and full of amusement as he chucked, "if ya'll decline, ya'll git to be the ones to tell her."

Both boys paled no small amount at that. They looked at each other, easily read fear in their eyes. Never mind what their mama would do to them if they said no under the circumstances, they were far more afraid of what their daddy would for telling a lady no at all. What made it worse is it would seem the guy knew it, too.

Peter gulped hard before turning back to the girl's kin and nodded, "thank ya kindly for the offer, Sir. We would be overly obliged to accept."

Marshal snorted, "Smart boy. You make your mama proud. Matter of fact, why don't ya'll bring her and your Pa with you tomorrow night. Haven't gotten to see them in coon's age."

A smile pulled at Peter's lip, despite the blackmail, at the mention of his mama. He was certainly the definition of a mama's boy and he would stomp anyone that thought less of him for it. "I'm sure they would be obliged as well, Sir."

It was then that there was a lady's voice in the conversation. "Marshal, the medic said we can take Isa-Bee home, now."

All three men turned to Steff as she stood over by Peter's truck with the still pale little lady who was drinking the Coke that Peter had asked a hand to get for her. She had her head propped up by her palm on her forehead, eyes closed as the medic took the arm cuff off her. There was a shiny sheen of sweat coating most of her skin and making the tank top that was tight anyways cling to her. She looked god awful at the moment and about a second from just passing out completely. A combination of absolute terror, exertion and the 115 degree temperature Peter was sure.

She was still fucking gorgeous though.

Peter glanced at his brother, "Rocky saddled up?" At the confused nod from Jasper, he explained, "I'ma give the lady a ride out. I doubt she can make it on her own."

Jasper looked at the girl as she swayed a little and nodded, "I'll git 'im. You just make sure you back in time, ya hear? You got ten minutes." Then he turned and jogged over to where Peter's horse was being tended to.

Peter watched after his brother and shook his head. He didn't give a damn if he missed one ride or was disqualified all together from the round completely.

Once Jasper came back with Peter's stallion, Peter took the reins and pulled the horse over to his truck so the lady wasn't walking much. Letting the reins go, he turned to the lady and crouched down in front of her again to catch her eyes. Once she was sorta focused on him, "Hey, Little Darlin. You ever rode a horse before?" When she shook her head, he nodded his. Looks like he was riding with her so she didn't fall. Giving her a smile, "well, first for everythin'."

Isabella glanced at the stallion behind him and her eyes went wide making Peter chuckle a bit as he looked back at Rocky. "I reckon he looks big," then he turned back to her, "but he ain't nothin' but a big ol' softy."

Then he stood up and held his hands out to her, pulling her to her feet when she put her hands in his. Clicking his tongue in command to the horse, he turned the lady to him and, lifting her up in one smooth motion, sat her side saddle on Rocky before putting his boot in a foothold and climbing up too, sitting behind her. After getting situated in the saddle, Peter wrapped an arm lightly around the little darlin' to keep her steady and used his free hand to pull at the horse's reins to turn him towards the exit.

Isabella was dizzy and the sway of the horse's walking was making her feel a little sick too, so she grabbed onto the arm that was around her stomach and pressed her face into the shoulder attached to the torso she was leaning heavily against. As mortified as she was about running into the man that didn't even seem to mind, she was even more so right at the moment because she was positive that he could feel her stomach rolling against his forearm. As she sat there, she prayed with everything she had that she didn't throw up all over the beautiful black horse… or the hot ass cowboy.

Peter glanced down at the lady when he felt her grab onto him and tightened his grip on her in response, pulling her a little closer to him and more centered to make the ride a little smoother for her. Lowering and softening his voice, his dipped his head a bit to whisper in her ear, "How ya doin' there, Little Darlin'?"

Her response was muffled and quiet, but he heard it nonetheless, "I feel sick."

Peter lifted his eyes and saw the parking lot coming into view and the girl's uncle pointing out where they were going. Turning his attention back to her, "Just breathe, Little Darlin'; almost there."

Pulling Rocky to a stop a few minutes later, Peter dismounted and set his hands on the little lady's waist to help keep her steady until her uncle got the truck door open. Once it was open, Peter lifted her off his horse like she weighed nothing more than a newborn puppy, setting her on her feet but held on for an extra moment when she grabbed his arms to keep her knees from giving out. Once they were both sure that she was gonna stay up, Peter helped her over to the truck, handling her inside like the southern gentleman his mama raised him to be before tipping his hat with a 'Ma'am' and doing the same for her aunt.

Steff looked at Peter with a smile, "well, ain't you just sweet as Pie, young man."

Peter just winked at her before closing the door and leaning on the open window, "What time should I tell Mama for?"

Steff hummed a moment before tisking, "howsabout, four?"

Peter nodded with a small smile, "I'll pass it along, Ma'am." Then he looked over at Marshal, "I'ma call my cousin, have him keep an eye on the farm tonight, 'case that boy don't listen for shit."

Marshal cocked a brow at him but didn't say anything before Peter went on, "he lives about a mile from ya'll these days. Just didn't want ya'll worried if ya'll git home and someone was there. That boy was dumb enough to pull that here, he dumb enough to just about anythin'… like not listen to someone that pointed a gun in his face."

Marshal just nodded at him in thanks as he turned the key and started up his truck. Before be backed out of his spot, he leaned forward and called to Peter as he was mounting his horse again, "You tell that Pa of yours that he owes me a bottle of whisky."

Peter snorted with a smirk, "I'll tell 'im but you know Pa." Then he kicked Rocky's ribs, making the horse rear up on his hind legs with a 'nay' before leaping into a full gallop heading back to the stables.

*X*

Sure enough, an hour later when they pulled into the drive there was a truck sitting by the porch. Pulling his to a stop next to it, Marshal got out and looked around, pausing in his search when a big son of a bitch came walking around the side of the house with a rifle over his shoulder.

Steff had gotten out her side and blinked at the man she had always known to be a scrawny little thing that had certainly grown up. Setting a hand on her hip and holding on to the top if the open truck door, she astonished, "Lord have mercy, Boy. What has that mama of yours been feedin' you?"

Emmett's booming laughter bounced around the yard as he patted his stomach, "This wasn't my mama, Mrs. Johnson. Got hitched few years back; this was all the wife, barn raisin' and land workin' for my daddy."

Giving him a grin, "Well, late congratulations are better than none, I suspect. You growed up real nice, Emmett."

A light blush spread across his cheeks at that, "awe, go'n now, Ma'am." Clearing his throat, he turned to Marshal, "I check the barn and stables, Mr. Johnson. Didn't see no one. Only thing that was a little off was I found an open window 'round back. Wasn't sure if you left it like that or not. Prolly wouldn't've thought nothin' of it had Peter not told me 'bout what happened. I was fixin' to go in and check when I heard ya'll pull in."

Marshal shook his head a bit and closed his door before walking around to the other to help his niece out of the truck, "It's over the kitchen sink. Damn thing got stuck 'bout a month ago. Can't get it to budge an inch. Mind comin' in and seein' if you can?"

Emmett set his rifle on the porch railing while shaking his head, "not at all, Mr. Johnson." He waited at the bottom of the steps in case the slip of a lady needed any extra help up. Peter had told him she was whiter than a sheet when he last saw her and that description was still pretty close to being true. He wasn't sure if she was still freaked out or if she was just that pale normally. He tipped the brim of his hat to her when she gave him a tight smile, "Little Lady."

Following them inside and to the kitchen, Emmett went over to window and took a look, hitting one side hard enough to shake the glass in the frame before sliding it shut, reopening it and then shutting it again to make sure it was gonna behave then, turning to lean on the sink, he looked over at Marshal, "came out of its slide. Should work fine for ya now."

Marshal nodded to him, "Thank ya, youngin. Damn thing pissed me off somethin' fierce."

Emmett snorted a little before pushing himself off the sink, "Well, I should be gettin' on home 'for the misses starts to worry." Stopping next to the phone, he picked up the pen and began to write his number on the message pad, "If ya'll have any trouble or need anythin', I can be here lickady split. Rosie and I'll keep an eye out and I'll call Jed and have him do the same on the other end. That sumbitch not gettin' nowhere near here without someone knowin' 'bout it first."

Emmett's attention was then pulled to the little lady that was sitting at the dining room table when she whimpered a little. Sighing a little and eyes softening a lot, Emmett went over and crouched down in front of her, giving her a reassuring smile, "Don't you worry none, Little Lady. Ain't no punk ass city boy gonna be able to do nothin' 'round here. Everyone here grew up here and these stompin' grounds are second nature. If he still here, he can't hide better than we can hunt and we don't miss." Then he hummed a little, "Matter a fact… be right back."

Isabella and her uncle watched as Emmett stood up and went outside, her looking up at him with a confused face to which he shrugged and shook his head at. With that boy, it could be just about anything and none of it would surprise him.

About three minutes later, Emmett came back in with a long, flat black case in his hand. Taking up a seat next to Isabella at the table, he unlatched the locks and opened it up, revealing the BB gun that was inside, turning it towards the wide eyed lady.

Snorting a little, Emmett smiled at her, "this ain't what you think, Little Lady. It's only a BB gun. It won't actually kill someone 'less you hit 'em in the eye or somethin', but it does hurt somethin' fierce and make 'em think twice about doin' somethin' stupid. Looks real 'nuff to stop pretty much anyone in their tracks, though."

Taking a few minutes, he showed her how to load it, cock it and the proper way to hold it to get the most accurate aim. When she thought she had the gist of it, Isabella smiled at him, "Thank you, Emmett."

Emmett shrugged as he stood up to leave, "weren't nothin' Little Lady, it wasn't gettin' used. 'Sides, everyone 'round here learns to shoot with one of those so we don't kill anyone. Practice on that and I'll come back in a few day and see how well you doin'. Know my Rosie wants to meet you so I'll bring her 'long too."

Isabella nodded at that, thanked him again and watched from her chair as her aunt walked Emmett to the door. After a light sigh, she turned to her uncle, "How the fuck did he find me here? I don't understand. I left everything that he could have used to find me back home."

Marshal shook his head and sat down at the table with her, "I don't know either, Isa-bee. I'm sorry 'bout this. He wouldn't have known had I not forced you to go somewhere."

Isabella snorted and plopped back against the chair, crossing her arms and looking at the table top, "No, you were right. I was hiding and letting him ruin my life and all that. As least it was a public place with people around that he saw me and not here with you guys not home." Then she folded her arms and set her chin on them, "what am I going to do, Uncle Marsh? This was the only place I had to go."

At that, Marshal hummed in his throat and leaned back in his seat, crossing his own arms. "Welp, the way I see it, Sug, is you got two choices. You can run again and hope for the best. Or, you can show him that you ain't scared of him and stay right here."

"But I am scared of him, terrified actually."

He cocked a brow at her, "you was scared of dogs when ya got here, too, Isa-Bee and now you the one that feeds 'em. You stronger than ya think Sugar, and you need to show HIM that."

Isabella looked at her uncle for a minute before her eyes slid to the BB gun on the table. After a short debate with herself, she reached for it and picked it up, "I'll be out by the barn."

Marshal smiled at her as she left out the back door with gun and ammo in hand, "Atta girl, Isa-Bee."