It took the wagons nearly an hour to reach Carter's Bend. The riders had gone ahead to get started on clearing the tracks. The rocks and trees made it look as though there had been a landslide, incongruous against the flat horizon. The deputy pulled up next to Heath's wagon, which was in the front. "Someone went to a lot of trouble for this," he commented, shaking his head.

Serious, Heath just nodded in answer. The men clearing the tracks ran for the supplies in the wagons. There were a handful other men, ones from the train Heath assumed, that were helping. "The doc could use some help on the train," the deputy said as Heath jumped to the ground. The young man hesitated. "Its not a pretty sight."

"Any idea of who did this?" Heath asked, glancing over to where two women and a few children were sitting on the ground. "Has anyone said anything?"

"The ones who are still alive haven't said much," the deputy answered. "All I've been able to learn is that there were masked men who came on when the train stopped and shot at everyone who moved. Even if they didn't move, those monsters fired. You see all of those poor people sitting there? They're in shock. And there's not that many more alive on the train."

Heath's eyes widened at that. "Surely there are more women and children on there than that!" he protested. The deputy just nodded, looking both pale and green at the same time. Heath recognized that look from the war as the look of someone who'd seen something he wished he had never seen. "Oh. My brother Jarrod was on this train. Has he-?"

"No one's mentioned seeing him."

Bracing himself for what was to come, Heath headed for the first car. He hopped up the steps and entered the car. Even with the warning, nothing could have prepared him for the scene before him. The floor was pooled with blood. The passengers, men, women, and children, were slumped in their seats, some sprawled in the aisle.

"Heath!" Sam, the other rider the stationmaster had sent, called out from the end of the car. The man looked impossibly old. "We've finished in here. The doc's already in the next car."

Swallowing hard, Heath nodded and made his way to join the man. He stepped over several men's bodies, each of them having been shot down. "This wasn't just an ambush for a robbery," Sam said seriously. He shook his head. "This was a massacre."

"Are there many left alive?" Heath asked, as they crossed into the second car. He was almost afraid of the answer. The sight of that first car had made him slightly sick to his stomach, and he wondered if he'd be able to hold himself together. It was the brutality of the war all over again, made worse by the defenseless women and children that had been caught in it.

"Maybe half of them, and not nearly enough of them are going to make it," the doctor answered, straightening up from where he was working. Two other men were already checking the bodies. Half a dozen men and women were sitting against the wall, looking shocked. The living from the first car, Heath assumed. The doctor looked Heath over "Do you have any medical experience?"

Heath shrugged. "Basic, emergency things from being on the trail," he answered.

"Good enough," the doctor said, briskly. He pulled a handful of cloths from his bag. "All I need for you to do is to try to slow the bleeding. I can't operate here. Once the track is clear, we can ride the way to Stockton, but until then, we need to keep these people alive. Can you do that?"
"I'll do my best."
"That's all any of us can do," the doctor answered, handing the cloths over.

Taking them in his hand, Heath hesitated. "Have you seen Jarrod? He was on this train."

The doctor paused. "No, but I haven't had a chance to check past this car," he answered honestly. "I can tell you that he wasn't among the ones in the first car."

"Maybe he missed the train and didn't have a chance to let us know," Heath murmured, half to himself. He went to the third passenger car. His anger rose as the first body he came to was a young boy. The very cruelty of shooting defenseless people trapped in such a tiny space surpassed anything he'd seen, even in the war. "Who would do this kind of thing?"

"Someone who's no longer human," Sam said seriously from behind Heath. He moved past Heath to go to an older woman's side, who was trying to staunch the bleeding in another older woman's chest.

Here, at least, there were some who were still alive and trying to see to those more injured than them. Taking a deep breath, Heath wished he'd been able to help clear the track. This car was the second class passengers, not as well to do as the first car had been. The benches were wooden and tight together. "Does this seem a little prejudiced to you?" he asked suddenly.

Looking up from the older Spanish woman he was trying to get comfortable, Sam frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Barely any of the first class passengers are alive," Heath answered. "There are more here alive. And I have the feeling that's not by chance."

"Whoever did this has something against with wealth?"

"Senor Liam..."

Surprised by the accented voice, Heath looked over at the woman Sam was trying to help. "Easy," Sam said as she tried to sit up. "Don't worry, I'm trying to help. I don't think she can understand me."

Stepping over, Heath crouched down, searching his little used Spanish. "We want to help you."

Her dark eyes filled with pain and confusion, the woman stared at him. "Senor Liam? Senorita Lucy," she whispered. "You must find her!"

"I'll find her," Heath promised. Nodding, the woman relaxed, closing her eyes. Alarmed, Heath leaned forward, but let his breath out as he saw that she was still breathing. He stood up and glanced around the car.

His eyes narrowed as he saw something out of place. Where blood was not pooled on the wood floor, there were drops spattered in an almost straight line. "Someone injured walked through here," he realized, spotting partial footprint. He felt his heart clench as he recognized the print. "Jarrod."

Abandoning Sam to check the rest of the passengers, Heath followed the trail to the end of the car, where he saw him. "Jarrod!" he exclaimed, wondering why he hadn't recognized his dark haired brother as soon as he'd stepped into the car.

Jarrod was sprawled on the floor, his arm stretched out and half under the seat. As he crouched down, Heath saw the bullet wound in his oldest brother's back, but he also saw that his brother was still breathing, if a little shallowly. Leaning closer, Heath frowned and looked under the seat to what Jarrod had been reaching for. His eyebrows raised as he saw that Jarrod's hand was around the much smaller one of a little girl. Heath reached a hand out to check the little girl Jarrod had obviously tried to protect.

He was shocked when the little's girl's bright blue eyes flicked open. "Papa!" she exclaimed.

"My name is Heath," Heath answered. He saw disappointment and confusion fill the girl's eyes as she wriggled out from under the seat. Though blood stained her dress and was on her hands and arms, she looked to be unharmed. "What's your name? Are you hurt?"

She shook her head. "My name is Lucy," she answered. Her lips trembled. "At first I was hiding, and then I saw him." She put her hand on Jarrod's shoulder. "I tried to help, but I'm not big enough. Then, he said he'd hide me."

"He's my brother," Heath told her, feeling a flash of pride that Jarrod had tried to protect this little girl. He, too, put his hand on Jarrod's shoulder. "Brother Jarrod? Can you hear me? Its Heath."

He didn't get an answer. "Heath!" Sam called over then. "They've got the track clear," the man said when Heath met his gaze. "And we have someone getting the engine started. We'll be back in Stockton soon."

"Good," Heath answered. "Tell the doc I've found Jarrod, and I need his help."

"I'll send him, as soon as I can, but there are a lot of people who need his help," Sam responded. He held his arms out. "I'll take the girl to one of the women. This is no place for a child. She's not hurt?"

Heath shook his head and tried to pry his sleeve out of Lucy's sudden grip. When she wouldn't budge, he shrugged and decided to just let her be. "She's not doing any harm," he said. "Just send the doc as soon as you can."

Going back to his brother, Heath turned his attention back to his brother. "Lucy, I need you to help me, all right?" he said. Lucy reluctantly let go of his sleeve and nodded. "I want you to hold this cloth on Jarrod's back, right here where he's hurt, all right? We have to find a way to stop the bleeding until the doctor gets here.
"I can do that," Lucy answered confidently. She pressed her hands down on the wound.

At Jarrod's groan, she jumped but kept her hands in place. "Jarrod!" Heath said, leaning close to his brother's ear. "Don't try to move. You've been shot in the back. I'll have you back at the ranch in no time with Mother and Audra fussing over you."

"B-brother Heath?"

A grin parted Heath's lips. "Yep, its me Brother Jarrod," he responded. "I'm looking out for you."

"Audra? H-Heath, she..."

"He called me that," Lucy confided as Jarrod's voice trailed away weakly. "Who's Audra?"

Frowning, Heath looked over at her, seeing for the first time the resemblance Jarrod must have noticed from the first: the golden hair and blue eyes. "Our sister," he answered. "You look kind of like her. That's probably why he tried to help you."

Jarrod had drifted unconscious again. Standing up, Heath turned to go get the doc to hurry up. Lucy grabbed his sleeve again. "Don't leave me!" she begged. Tears brimmed in her eyes. "What if the bad men come back?"

"They won't come back," Heath assured her. He reached down and squeezed her hand. "I promise you. I just have to go get the doc, all right? I need you to stay here with Jarrod."

Hoping he wasn't asking to much of the little girl, Heath pried her hand free and put it back on Jarrod's back. Lucy stayed where she was as Heath made his way to the second car. "Doc, my brother's been shot in the back. Can you come?" he asked, going right to the doctor's side.

"Heath, I know you want help for your brother," the doctor answered sharply. "But at the moment, everyone in this car needs me. I'll come as soon as I've finished here."

Dissatisfied, Heath went back, knowing there was no way to convince the doc to come. Lucy was still where he'd left her. The look she gave him when he knelt back down was almost blank though, and she was shivering. "Lucy," he said, touching her shoulder. She didn't react, and Heath realized that the shock had finally caught up with her.

"Hey, its ok. You've been brave enough, Lucy," Heath said, putting his arm around her. Heath tried to sooth her and with his other hand, he tried to staunch the blood oozing from the wound in Jarrod's back. Getting to Stockton wouldn't come soon enough for him.