Slowly, Jarrod fought his way out of the darkness he'd fallen into. It became far to easy as the pain in his back stabbed him. He opened his eyes and found a fellow passenger, eyes staring blankly in death, only inches from his face. Jerking his head back, Jarrod hissed in pain. Reaching a hand up, he found the arm of a chair and pulled himself up to his knees.

Around him, there was only death and the havoc the ambush had caused. Bags were torn apart, their contents spread around the bodies of the passengers. And then, Jarrod heard someone groan in the terrible silence. Trying to hold the pain off, Jarrod forced himself all the way onto his feet.

"Help," a woman whispered nearby.

Turning, Jarrod saw a young woman struggling to breath, laying on the floor. "How-?" Jarrod started to ask, but his voice was husky from pain. He cleared his throat. "How bad are you hurt?"

"Bad," she answered, her eyes wide with fear. She was holding her hands to her chest. She swallowed hard. "I pretended it was worse...they thought I was dead...I thought I was the only left..."

Tears ran down her cheek. "I have to check everyone else," Jarrod told her, wishing he could help. But all he could do was offer hope. "Hopefully, someone can get us to Stockton."

The woman nodded, and then she stopped moving. Jarrod saw the life leave her eyes, and he turned away. He made himself move down the aisle, gripping each seat back to keep himself upright. He sent up a prayer that they had been missed and someone was coming to find out what had happened.

He made his way out of the first car, seeing only one man still breathing. It was much the same in the second car, with only a few people living. Feeling his strength waning, Jarrod forced himself into the third car. It was the same there, as it had been in the other two cars. The baggage torn apart for anything valuable, and blood. There was blood everywhere.

Jarrod thought he heard voices. He made his way to the end of the car. His foot caught on an outstretched hand, and he went down. The pain washed over him and he tried to cling to consciousness. A small hand came down on his. Turning his head, Jarrod could have swore he saw his sister, when she was just a child, peeking out at him from under the seat.

"The bad men are still here," she whispered. Her voice trembled with terror. There was another volley of gunshots in the distance, and the little girl flinched. There was blood spattered all over her. "If they come back through here, they'll find us.

Finding strength from somewhere, Jarrod tried to think. Audra needed him. If it was the last thing he did, Jarrod was determined to protect his little sister. "Where were you hiding before? "he asked. He twisted his hand to clasp around hers.

"Under the seat, behind Tia's skirts," she whispered. "I'm scared."

The voices were getting louder, and Jarred could only think of one thing to do. He pulled his hand free of hers. "We're going to play a little game now," he said, waving his hand at her. "I have to make them think I'm like everyone else, so you have to be very quiet now, all right, Audra? Stay right where you are, and whatever happens you stay absolutely quiet, all right?"

"Who's Audra?" Jarrod thought she asked, but everything was spinning. His exertions were catching up with him. His last coherent thought was a hope that Audra would listen to him for once. Again, everything faded into darkness.


Inside the tavern, it was quiet, with only a few men there. Sitting at a corner table, Heath idly watched a card game in play. A shout of, "He's back!" reached the inside of the saloon. Heath knocked back the rest of his beer and hurried out, along with every other man in the saloon. One of the men the stationmaster had sent, came racing along the railroads tracks. He barely waited for his horse to come to a stop before he jumped to the ground. The stationmaster ran to meet him.

"Well?" Jake asked eagerly. "Anything, Carl?"

"The train was ambushed," Carl answered, trying to catch his breath. "The tracks are blocked at Carter's Bend. The engineer was shot and killed. There's dozens of wounded and dead out there. I left Sam trying to help those people, but we're going to need a lot more men to get the track clear."

"I'll go!" a man called out, followed by more shouts of the same.

The sheriff pushed his way to the front. "All right," he said, taking charge of the situation. "I want everyone willing to help here in ten minutes with wagons and shovels. And get word to the doc. We're going to need him out there with us too."

Quickly, the men in the crowd scattered. Without a word, Heath headed for the wagon he'd driven into town. As he did, he ran into Victoria, who was looking worried. "Heath! What's happened?" the woman asked. She glanced around the street. "Someone came to the church and said the train hasn't come."

For a moment, Heath hesitated. Victoria leveled her gaze at him, daring him to try to tell her anything but the truth. "Someone's attacked the train," Heath answered, sticking to the bare minimum details. Victoria gasped. "There's injured still out there. I'm going out to help." He paused and pressed her hand. "I'm sure Jarrod's fine."

"Do they know who did this or why?" Victoria asked, remaining perfectly calm. Heath shook his head. "Go. Audra and I will be waiting."

Nodding, Heath hurried on to get the wagon. A couple minutes later, when he reached the Main Street, he saw that Victoria and Audra stood together on the boardwalk. Heath nodded to them. Victoria put her arm around Audra and nodded back. "Be careful out there," she called out.

About a three other wagons were waiting and three times as many men on horses was waiting. Supplies of shovels and ropes were tossed in the back of the wagons. The sheriff had assigned a deputy to take the lead. "Fall in," the young deputy called out, and started the first wagon out, following the train tracks.

The wagon jolted as it hit the tracks. Heath gritted his teeth as he focused on the trail the deputy was taking.


"How many people are coming for this auction?" Nick asked. The examination of the cattle had left him frowning.

"Not many," Will admitted. "Most people don't think the cattle or the horses worth the trip."

Nick snorted as they walked towards the main house. "And they'd be right! If even half of those animals last the trip it would take to get them down to Stockton, I'll eat my hat." He shook his head. "I knew it was bad, but not this bad. Roger Jennings should have had the sense to sell out before things reached this point."

"No one can tell that man what to do," Will responded, lapsing just this once to give his opinion of the man he'd worked for for three years. "Lord knows I've tried."

Glancing over at the older man, Nick raised his eyes brows. "I suppose you're the only reason this place is looking even this good." Will shrugged dismissively. "What are you going to do after tomorrow?"

"Not sure," Will answered. "I'll find some place, though not many ranches are willing to take on someone of my age."

"Then, come back with me," Nick told him. "You've got good experience behind you."

Amazed, Will stared at him. "Thanks, Mr. Barkley," he said gratefully. "I appreciate that. I won't let you down."

But Nick's attention had already shifted, to a blonde haired man at the corral. Even at the distance they were, Nick could make out the familiar features of his half brother. "What in blue blazes is that boy doing here?" he exploded. "I told him to look after everything at the ranch! If he thinks he's going to get away with leaving everything, he's got another thing coming!"

Glancing around, Will tried to keep up. "What?"

Furiously, Nick stormed across the yard. "HEATH!" he shouted.

Everyone in the yard turned towards him, including the fair haired cowboy who was at the corral. In fact, even some of the horses took exception to his loud tone. The already skittish horses bolted and hit the rotten boards of the fence. And as Nick had predicted earlier, they broke through, right behind the fair haired cowboy.

Every man in the man in the yard scattered as the horses bolted. Nick felt a moment of panic as the cowboy disappeared from sight. "Heath!" he shouted again, running forward. He spotted the young man on the ground, curled up protectively, with his arms over his head. Skidding to a stop, Nick reached to help him up. "Are you all right, boy? I ought to knock you a good one for pulling this on..."

His voice trailed away. The face that finally turned up towards him was almost Heath's but was different all the same. "I'm not a boy, but yeah, I'm fine," he responded, uncurling. "Not even a bruise."

Dumbfounded, Nick just stared at him, his hand dropping down. Becoming fidgety, the man got to his feet on his own. "I was wondering how long it would take for those horses to get free," he commented, scooping his black hat up off the ground. He offered a grin. "Its not going to be easy to get them back here."

"Liam, I thought for sure you were a gonner then," Will remarked as every other man came out of hiding. "Oh, this here is Nick Barkley. And this lucky devil is Liam Sawyer. He works up at the Double Square Ranch. He's actually the foreman there, and one of the best judge's of horseflesh I've ever had the privilege to meet."

"Pleasure to meet you, Barkley," Liam said amiably, holding his hand out. "I've heard a lot of good things about your family. Don't listen to Will. He tells a tall tale every chance he gets."

Moving slowly, Nick put his hand in the other man's and shook it. He had the vague feeling he should know the name 'Sawyer' but couldn't quite put his finger on it. "Sorry about that," he said, shaking himself to reality. "I...thought I saw someone I knew. From a distance you looked exactly like him."

"If you don't mind me saying so, I sure feel sorry for that man."

Nick forced an answering grin. "You know, I get that a lot. I haven't figured out why."

"So, are we going to help get those horses back?" Liam asked, shoving his hat back on. Now that he was close to the man, Nick could see that this young man was the same height as Heath, only slimmer. And his eyes were closer to gray than blue. "There were some worthwhile prospects in them that I'd hate to lose."

"There's going to have to be some place decent to put them," Nick responded, sending a glare at the men he knew still worked for the ranch. "Otherwise all that work would be for nothing. If a simple yell is enough to spook the animals, there's no telling what will have them breaking out again."

"A simple yell?" Liam repeated incredulously. "I'd hate to hear you when you really get mad!"

Will cleared his throat. "There'll be a place," he assured them. "I'll get some men on it right away. They may as well earn their last paycheck."

"All right," Nick decided. "Let's go find those horses."