After Jane had let out a steady stream of every cuss word she knew, hands balled into fists and just barely refraining from kicking over a nearby chair, she turned to Maura and said, "You better get the hell outta here if you don't wanna hear more talk like that."

"Are you saying nothing like this has ever happened before?" Maura asked, although she wished she hadn't brought it up when Korsak and Jane shot her identical incredulous looks. Rather than rescind the question, she tried to salvage the notion: "Well, why wouldn't some rogue out here try impersonating Jake, if he thought he could get away with it? I would think it would be every scalawag's dream to have so much attention."

"Maura, Jake's picture is plastered all over the West," Jane said. "So first off, anyone impersonating him would have to look a helluva lot like me. And furthermore, this ain't somethin' somebody would just do on a lark. There's a price on my head. You suit up as Jake, you don't assume you're gonna come home alive."

Not wanting Maura to feel bad, Korsak tried playing the devil's advocate. "Now, it's possible that maybe over the years, some daredevil cad now and then tried to pass himself off as Jake. But if he did, it wasn't ever so close that we heard about it."

"This is it," Jane said fiercely to the Sheriff. "This is goddam it, Korsak—this is why Jake's gotta go. He's got to die beyond a shadow of a doubt."

"What, you don't like people tarnishing the fine name of Jake Wyatt?" Korsak asked sarcastically.

"I didn't ever rob a bank, old man!" Jane growled, her voice rising.

"You robbed the rich, didn't ya?"

"It ain't the same thing! What we took from people like that was only trinkets for them, and we gave 'em to people what really needed it. Damn it, I need Frost, that son of a—"

Korsak reached over, gripping Jane's shoulder tightly. "Jane, calm down."

"You thought it was me," Jane said, her voice trembling. "You thought I did it." When Korsak didn't respond, only pressing his lips together, he felt Jane's body quivering as well as her voice. "I want the bastard dead, Korsak. I want him dead, and I don't want nobody usin' his name anymore."

"We'll find whoever's doing this, Jane, don't worry," Korsak soothed her.

"Don't talk down to me like that; you don't know nothin'," Jane said.

"Sheriff, I think you'd better go," Maura said, taking Jane's arm. Korsak looked at her, surprised. "I'll see she gets back to you soon, I promise."

"Hurry," Korsak muttered. "I'm gonna head up to Green Forge and see if they could spare Grant. With the Judge's murder and Jake Wyatt on my tab, and Frost still out of town, we're gonna need all the help we can get."

It was a sign of the seriousness of the situation that Jane did not protest at the sound of Grant's name. She didn't even acknowledge it all, which Korsak had to admit to himself was somewhat worrisome. Giving her shoulder one more pat, he turned and was out the door. As soon as it had closed behind him, Maura pulled Jane into a tight embrace.

"Don't do anything rash," she whispered.

"I won't," Jane promised, her voice weak.

Maura's grip strengthened. "This could be some kid just trying to get a little notoriety, or it could be a trap to lure out the real Jake."

The second possibility had not even occurred to Jane, but it sounded scarily plausible coming from Maura's lips. "I'd be playing right into their hands," she realized.

"That's my concern, yes."

"But until we know for sure, it could be someone out to make my name a lot worse than it ever was."

"What's your gut tell you?"

Jane managed a weak smile, still clutching Maura tightly to her. "I thought you said I shouldn't listen to my intestines."

"Well, I've reconciled myself to the notion that some things may work for you which do not for me."

The smile on Jane's face faded as she pulled back, looking into Maura's eyes. "My gut is tellin' me that Tommy may have somethin' to do with this."

"Impossible," Maura balked.

"Why?"

"Because whoever posed at Jake would have to, as you said, pass for him. Tommy may be your brother, but your features are too dissimilar for him to ever convincingly play Jake. His zygomatic structure is wider than yours," and if Maura hadn't been cupping Jane's jaw and staring at her cheeks, Jane wouldn't have been able to even guess what the doctor was talking about. Still, Maura clarified, "His cheekbones are far from being as defined as yours, and there are also distinctive nasal—"

"Dammit, Maura, people might not notice differences like that," Jane said, shifting her head to get it out of Maura's loose grip. "They'd notice—"

"The facial hair?" Maura asked. "Which, in case you haven't noticed, Tommy does not possess. He may not be the most clean-shaven of men, but—"

"We don't know when this robbery happened," Jane pointed out. "He coulda had the right facial hair. Hell, he coulda done like us and even put on some fake ones just to save time."

"Why are you so determined to believe it's him?" Maura asked.

"A while ago Frankie said Tommy looked up to guys like Jake Wyatt," Jane said. "Tommy told me himself he didn't think Jake was such a bad guy. And you said, too—you said the youngest siblings were the risk-takers! Maybe Tommy thinks he's on a lark, maybe he's restless. I dunno."

"Stop assuming it's him, and tell me what you're really afraid of, Jane."

"Nothing! Maura, I swear to God, I just—"

"I don't understand you," Maura said. "You're always this way, you're always so eager to persecute someone before you've even found out whether they're guilty or not."

Jane laughed hoarsely. "Honey, in my line of work, you gotta keep one eye over your shoulder every minute of every day. If you don't cover your own ass, nobody will. You get a gut feelin', you follow it. You asked me what mine was, and that was it."

"Then what's your gut feeling about Judge Wilkins? You think Tommy killed him, too?" Maura asked dryly.

"No," Jane said. "My gut feelin' there is that whoever killed him lit outta town already. But that ain't my call to make—it's Korsak's."

Silence loomed between them for several long moments, with Jane in particular wondering where the conversation was supposed to go from here. A good foot or two separated them now, and Maura nervously twisted her ring, staring at the floor. Jane's emotions had been getting more and more spastic as of late, seeming to flip on a whim, hot or cold, but whichever direction, always intensely. Maura was aware that there were extenuating circumstances, that Jane was facing a wealth of stressful situations, and yet… she had never allowed this range of intensity to show in front of Maura before. No matter what hardships she had been suffering in the past, Jane had always been able to mask it for Maura. She had always managed to put on a brave face, even a smile, rarely (and never, when sober) forcing Maura to confront the darkness which on occasion consumed her.

Is it because she's grown accustomed to me? Maura wondered. Before, in that would-be courting phase, was she particularly sensitive to making sure I only saw the good side, that the darkness remained hidden? Am I only good for her when the going is easy, when I feel sure of everything?

Of course not. How can she trust me to be her spouse if I'm not able to take the history that comes with her? It was easy enough to be supportive when I thought the past was past, when I only had to be a sympathetic listener, not involved in preventing or helping with the pain. But love, a marriage, is not supposed to be easy all the time. It's like Jane said—life, or love, is worth the scary parts.

Maura had been quiet for so long, that Jane tried to guess what was bothering her. "Maura, maybe I shouldn't have brought ya to the Judge's house this morning," she said.

This jarred Maura out of her reverie. "Why not?"

"Because," Jane said with a shrug. "Did it disturb ya? Is that what's bothering ya right now?"

While it hadn't been on Maura's mind this very moment, she took the opportunity to divert her thoughts. "At the time, it wasn't so awful. I just forced myself to pretend that the Judge's body was on one of my father's operating tables. But afterwards…" She sighed, returning her gaze to a worn spot on the floor. "I thought of my other father—my real father."

"Doyle?"

"Yes. I thought of his reputation, the clever killer. I could believe that he would try to stage a murder as a suicide. I imagined him killing someone in cold blood, then just walking away and leaving all that behind… leaving the corpse, the blood, all of it, to be found—either by the authorities, or by some poor civilian, maybe a family member."

Jane stepped forward, this time being the one to offer a consoling hug. She rubbed Maura's back. "I'm real sorry, Maura."

"I just can't believe I share blood with a man who could do things like that," Maura said, her voice high-pitched and strained.

Having killed men herself before, Jane struggled initially to know how to comfort Maura. But then she put it in the perspective of finding out she was related to someone like Charles Hoyt, and what a horrible revelation that would be. It wouldn't matter if he hadn't raised her himself; just knowing he had fathered her would be bad enough, and would haunt her for the rest of her days.

"Maura, I wish I knew what to say," she murmured.

"You don't have to say anything," Maura said, pulling out of the embrace so she could wipe at her eyes. "I'm being foolish."

"You ain't bein' no such thing," Jane told her.

"Childish, then."

"No. You ain't."

"Aren't," Maura corrected softly.

"And here I thought you'd given up on my grammar long ago," Jane chuckled.

"I still correct you in my head when I don't say anything out loud."

"Figures. You know how much I hate being corrected."

"I certainly do," Maura said with a weak laugh. Once she had sobered up, she allowed herself to look into Jane's eyes, trying to read what was really there, whether it was worth trying to take the conversation back where she wanted to. "Jane…"

"Yeah?"

"When you've—when you've, uh… killed men…"

Jane inhaled deeply, and Maura knew she didn't need to articulate the actual question. "Self-defense," Jane muttered. "And never nothin' else. I might've injured a few, but that was only to get 'em out of my way, or to try and make a point."

"What point was that?"

"If Jake Wyatt wants you dead…" Jane laughed mirthlessly, and mimed shooting Maura in the heart. "You'd be dead." She felt defensive upon seeing the disapproving look on Maura's face. "You know why I had to do it," she said. "Why I had to have that reputation. It wasn't easy, Maura. Not at all. And know that no matter who was on the receiving end of my bullet or my knife, I wasn't ever happy to kill. Not ever."

"I never thought you were the type who'd enjoy it, Jane."

With a derisive snort, Jane folded her arms and said, "Y'know what happened the first time I killed someone? I pissed myself. I was nineteen and I… well, I'd been in rough spots before, but never like this. It was me or him, and I'd barely been able to dodge his first bullet. So I shot one at him, but I was jumpy; all nerves. You ever stepped on a bug, and not been able to kill it all the way? You move away your shoe and see it on the ground there, half-squashed and still strugglin', and you're sorry you didn't manage to kill it straight off… well, that's what happened with this man here. I got him so he wasn't quite dead. I didn't know what I was supposed to do, if I was supposed to just run off or get him to a doctor."

"What happened?" Maura asked breathlessly.

"I walked closer, 'cause he was just kinda lyin' there in pain and all. But as soon as I got close enough, he fired up at me and I took one to the arm," Jane said, brushing the spot on instinct. "So I took another shot, and this time I didn't miss. This time …I didn't have to really check to see if he was dead, 'cause I knew. Even so, I rolled over his body to make sure, and it felt like the heaviest thing I'd even encountered. He wasn't even that big a man; it was just that death felt heavy somehow."

Her tone was detached yet thoughtful, and Maura tried not to visualize the scenario too precisely. She felt her heartbeat increase when Jane's eyes met hers again.

"I don't think people realize what all it takes," she said. "Takin' a man's life, I mean. It ain't easy, Maura. And it sure as hell ain't so glamorous."

Maura nodded, and there was quietness again for a moment. "You're not going to be able to rest until you find out who's behind this, are you?"

"Jake's impersonator?"

"Right."

"Right… yeah. Yeah, Maura. I gotta end this now."

"What did you mean before?" Maura asked. "When you were talking to Korsak about killing Jake Wyatt. It sounded like you had some sort of a plan."

Jane waved her hand. "We'd just talked earlier, that's all. Frost needs some money, and we—I—thought it could be smart to say we'd killed Jake Wyatt, and get the reward money from some town."

"But you'd have to prove it," Maura said, sounding puzzled. "Otherwise, wouldn't people go to Sheriffs all the time, claiming they'd killed some notorious character?"

Jane looked at her a moment before deciding to lie. Both of them were already upset, and had just been on the verge of winding down—why not let Maura think she'd made a point? "Right, I know," Jane muttered. "It wasn't really a solid plan, just an idea. A thought. It'd be real damn hard to pull off." She cleared her throat before she could betray how much she'd really thought about it, and took a step towards the door. "Anyway …I should probably go back to the office and see what all I can do while Korsak's at Green Forge."

"Oh, right. He'll be gone a short while then, won't he?"

"I reckon so. And Frankie's got the far end of town staked out, so… I guess maybe I could write back to Frost and ask if he could high-tail it on back here."

"Wait," Maura said, following Jane to the door. Jane had her hand on the knob, but turned curiously at the tone in Maura's voice. Her eyebrows rose when Maura, holding her gaze, undid the buttons of Jane's corduroy trousers. "I just wanted you to think," she murmured, as Jane's breath caught. "If you really were built like Jake, then I wouldn't have the chance to be inside you. Not like this. I know it might not be perfect, but…"

"No," Jane gasped, rolling her hips forward. Her eyes were screwed shut as she slumped against the wall, Maura holding her up. She lifted her arms so they could rest over Maura's shoulders, and her head nodded forward, resting by Maura's neck. Suddenly she felt winded, and it took every fiber of energy left within her to whisper, "You're perfect."

Jane and Korsak spent the majority of the day speculating about who might really be masquerading as Jake Wyatt. The strange thing was that in the past, as recently as even a year ago, Jane might've found it amusing to know someone out there was impersonating her. Imitation was, after all, the sincerest form of flattery—the only troubling thing being that nobody understood her outlaw nature was nothing but an incredible cover-up. While her most important work was done behind the scenes, it was still sort of nice to know that she commanded respect.

But now, the thought of a person pretending to be her alter ego filled her with a heavy sense of dread. In the old days, she had never paused to entertain the notion that anyone could possibly draw a connection between Jake Wyatt and Jane Rizzoli; that anyone who wanted vengeance on Jake would ever know to try and take it out on Jane or someone in her town or family. But now, she was petrified at the thought. Even though she knew on some level that she was allowing her imagination to take ridiculous leaps, she couldn't help allowing them: what if this impersonator upset the wrong person, and somehow the wronged man figured out a bond between Jake and Maura, and went after her? What if there were serious repercussions due to the recklessness of this outsider?

It didn't matter how implausible it was that anything like that could happen; Jane couldn't drop it. She would swallow her own pride, she would admit she was wrong before she would ever sit back and allow even the slightest possibility that Maura could be endangered.

"I am telling you, Korsak," she said, back in his office. "Jake's gotta get gone. I'm gonna write Frost and tell him to get back here as soon as he can—not just so we can talk, but so you can have some backup here while we wait to get some information on the Judge."

"Write to him," Korsak said, trying to placate her. "Grant's on his way down, so we don't need Frost if he ain't ready to come home yet. And then, if he comes back, we'll talk."

"I need to request one more thing."

"Request, huh? Nice way of putting it. Go ahead, Calamity Jane."

"I wanna follow Tommy tonight."

Korsak took off his glasses and peered up at Jane from behind his desk. She stood confidently enough, hands resting at her hips, but her expression belied a certain nervousness. "You what now?" he asked.

"Frankie reckons Tommy's up to something, and it might be something not so good. And I dunno, I got this feelin' he could maybe be involved in this whole Jake business. And even if he ain't, I just think he could be doin' something shifty. I wanna find out what it is, and so does Frankie. But Frankie ain't so good at stalking, like I am. He'd blunder it up."

With a heavy sigh, Korsak leaned back in his chair and said, "Fine, Jane. You go ahead tonight and let me know if you find out anything."

She stayed in the office a while longer to work on a letter for Frost, keeping an eye on things while Korsak made his rounds. The Sheriff made it back just as the sun was almost set, and he watched uneasily as Jane stuffed some extra bullets into her pocket. He wanted to ask if she really thought she'd need them, but he was afraid of what answer he might get. Her face was set, serious and dark, as she glanced at her pocket watch before tossing it back into place.

"What are you going to tell Dr. Isles you're doing?" Korsak finally asked.

"Tell her I'm goin' out on a run for ya," Jane muttered.

"You're going to lie to her?"

"No."

"I ain't asked ya to tail your brother, Jane. That one's all on you."

"Then fine, yeah, I'll lie to her."

She jumped when Maura's voice suddenly joined the conversation: "You aren't speaking about me, are you?" The doctor had walked inside the office just a moment ago, and was now giving a stony look towards Jane's guilty expression. Her medical bag fell to the floor with a small bang, adding an exclamation point to her presence. "I dropped by after my last appointment to see if you were interested in escorting me home, but I suppose not."

"I got some work to do," Jane said evasively.

When Maura raised her eyebrows at Korsak, he hurried to his feet and grabbed his hat. "I'd better go by the cells again," he said, passing Maura and exiting through the swinging double doors.

Before Jane could even open her mouth again, Maura's acidic tone cut through the air between them: "I don't appreciate being lied to, Jane."

"I wasn't gonna lie to ya—"

"Like hell you weren't! What're you going to do? Go out there and find whoever's had the gall to imitate someone you allegedly disavowed?"

"What, you think this is about my pride?" Jane barked, stepping closer. "That I can't stand the thought of someone else gettin' credit for a job pulled off by Jake Wyatt? I am trying to do the right thing and protect you, protect all of us, by findin' out who's behind this and making sure they stop."

"At what cost, Jane? Why not just let it go?"

"You think this guy'll stop at one bank? We gotta catch him quick and cut him off!"

"There is a fine line between courage and stupidity."

"As a deputy of this town, it's my job to straddle that line every day," Jane said, squaring her shoulders and facing down Maura. "I ain't gonna even do nothin' that dangerous tonight; just some poking around."

Maura's features softened, as did her voice. "Then let me come with you."

Jane looked genuinely surprised. "What? No. Why? You ain't a deputy, Maura, you're a doctor. You ain't got any business tailing a suspect with me."

"A suspect? Who is it, Tommy?"

"I ain't at liberty to say."

"Well, that's too bad," Maura said, leaning down and picking up her bag. A scalpel fell out, but she failed to notice. "I could tell you where he usually spends his Friday evenings."

"Where?" Jane asked.

"Why are you interested?" Maura asked, feigning ignorance.

Jane bent down to retrieve the scalpel off the floor, and in an instant of poor taste in an attempt at humor, pointed it threateningly at Maura. "You answer my question, lady."

Maura didn't even hear, let alone process, the words as they left Jane's mouth. Her eyes were fixed on the scalpel being held so close to her neck, and within seconds, Jane realized why Maura appeared so paralyzed. She couldn't keep her gaze from landing at the mostly-faded scars on Maura's neck, the only physical reminder of their run-in with Hoyt, the most terrifying hour of Maura's existence. Jane dropped her hand to her side before offering the scalpel silently back to Maura, but Maura's hand didn't move. She was looking at Jane as if the woman had just committed the ultimate betrayal.

"I'm sorry, Maura," Jane said in a gravelly voice, sounding apologetic only in that she was about to unleash more unpleasantness. "But you gotta get over reactions like that if you ever wanna come on the road with me." She took one more step and pressed the scalpel into Maura's hand. "I'll be back before morning, if all goes well, and there ain't no reason it shouldn't. There's a two-barrel pistol under my pillow—use it if you don't feel safe. Just do like I do and sleep with your hand around it."

"I'll be fine," Maura said in a crisp voice. "Don't worry about me. I don't worry about you, you know."

Jane allowed herself a small smirk. "You don't, huh?"

"Not excessively," Maura amended. "Although you've been known to be reckless in the past, I have to trust that you know what you are doing and that the most likely outcome is that you will be fine. It's not my wish to control you or to lose sleep over your safety. It's only that I… I just hope you're doing whatever it is for the right reason."

"Don't worry," Jane whispered, leaning down for a soft kiss which barely had the time to be returned. "You are the right reason."

And yet, Maura was not given a chance to respond to this before Jane was out the door. The town was now shrouded in twilight, and Korsak came back inside to offer Maura a ride home as Jane headed for the old Rizzoli house. Frankie was on duty watching Judge Wilkins' part of town, and as such, she wound up not having to wait as long for Tommy to try leaving under cover of darkness. Rather than accost him then and there, Jane decided to wait it out and follow him.

He was dressed well, wearing his only tailored pair of pants—navy blue in color, matching the blazer he wore over a crisp new white shirt and black vest. His hair was neatly combed, much more nicely than Jane had ever seen it in the daylight, and he had shaved as well. Standing on the porch, he glanced up and down the street, failing to notice Jane standing in the shadows of the decrepit house across the way. She thought to herself that it had been a good idea not to hang around the Rizzoli house itself, as Tommy was now walking around behind it, no doubt to grab his horse. This guess was confirmed when he failed to reappear, and when Jane was able to hear the horse's hooves when she strained her ears.

She hurried across the street and watched Tommy take the back road out of town. He was going at a leisurely pace, which allowed Jane the freedom to follow on foot, so long as she was careful to keep a distance. They went all the way across town, and if Jane hadn't been on multiple missions like his already, she would have found her patience and energy waning. But she was determined to see this out, and was glad she did so when she realized Tommy was heading for her and Maura's house.

But although he glanced at the house as he passed, he did not even slow his horse's gait. It took Jane's heartbeat a moment to recover—even if she'd had no idea what Tommy might or might not have done if he'd stopped so late at night at Jane and Maura's house, Jane couldn't help the nervous feeling which had overcome her.

The road went straight to either Sparrow Lake or Green Forge from here, and after a point, it became clear that the other town was Tommy's destination. He sped up his horse, and rather than continue following him on foot, Jane hurried back to the corral to borrow one of Korsak's horses. She could head him off at Green Forge by taking the long way around the lake, if she ran her horse fast enough. Which she always did.

As an added precaution, Jane put her hair up beneath her hat, making it appear to the casual observer as if she had very shortly-cut hair. This way, if Tommy happened to catch a glance at her, he wouldn't be so likely to place her right away.

What Jane didn't count on was Tommy figuring her for someone else altogether.

Tommy's destination within Green Forge was none other than Stanley's esteemed tavern. The mixed memories of what had gone on here prevented Jane from wanting to go inside after Tommy, and she chose instead to linger out on the back porch. Nobody else was out there, as it was where all the men (including Tommy) had secured their horses. Jane figured she had a minute or two to decide whether she wanted to risk going inside or not, when she heard loud arguing coming from the other side of the porch. The voices were instantly recognizable as belonging to Stanley and Tommy.

"…I've told you a thousand times—she don't work here no more! Go home, you louse."

"C'mon, Stanley, just tell me where she is!" Tommy pleaded.

"You get her in trouble, kid?"

"I just wanna see her!"

"Yeah? Well so do I! That lousy whore owes me another week's worth of dancing!"

What followed were the sounds of a clear scuffle, and Jane had to assume Stanley had hired some sort of brute force to handle rowdy guests, because Tommy could've laid the older man flat if he'd really wanted to. Instead he received a terse suggestion to cool off, and then there was silence.

There was Jane's mistake, in waiting around. Normally she would have slipped away again, but she was so distracted trying to figure out who Tommy might have been talking about that she didn't hear him walking up until it was too late.

He came to halt several yards away, and Jane only happened to notice him in her peripheral vision after a moment or two. Instinct told her to run, but she held still, curious to see if Tommy was about to call her out. Both of them were frozen, waiting for the other to speak or move first. Jane figured it was a good thing she had years of experience of being caught of guard, when it was all that kept her from falling out of her chair when Tommy whispered,

"Mr. Wyatt?"

Tommy took a step closer, and Jane quickly pulled out her pistol, making sure the moonlight caught and glinted the barrel pointed at her brother. Though she had fumbled at first, she managed to make the move look smooth, almost lazy, and Tommy got the message. He stopped in his tracks. Under the guise of brushing the side of her ear, Jane angled the tip of her hat so it would hide more of her face, though she knew the darkness was doing enough to cover her. This should have been enough for Tommy to turn and go back, but he stayed put, and Jane allowed herself a moment to be impressed with his courage.

"Mr. Wyatt, I'd sure like to talk to ya."

Jane pitched her voice as low as it would go, and her tiredness made it even scratchier than usual. "Funny," she said. "I don't give a hang about talkin' to you." It no longer surprised her how easily she could slip back into Jake's cadence, something she had learned early on to mark differently from her own.

Tommy was undeterred. "You as bad as they say?"

"Worse. Now get outta here."

"I don't believe that."

"What's that, now?"

Tommy was fumbling with his hat in his hands, but he stayed his ground. "You've got your honor, haven't ya? That's why people respect you. You're your own man; you don't give in to nothin'. You looking for a companion?"

Jane hissed and almost stood up. "Listen son, you go on home."

"But sir—"

"I heard enough. You're one of those kids who likes to make a romance outta my life, and that's fine, I understand how that happens. But there ain't no romance in sleepin' on flea-infested blankets, in goin' days without a decent meal, or fightin' every day for the right to breathe. You don't want all those things, and that's only part of what you'd get for joinin' up with me."

"Yeah, but you—you got money, don't you?"

Intent on finding out where Tommy was going with this, Jane asked, "What's that to ya?"

"Well, sir…if I could be honest with you, real honest…"

He paused for so long that he prompted Jane to ask, "Yeah?" with no hint of patience.

"I'm in trouble."

"What kinda trouble?"

Tommy almost didn't care at this point if Jake Wyatt would let him become his assistant; it was incredible enough that such an esteemed man was even bothering to listen. Figuring Jake was used to hanging around people who were morally bankrupt, Tommy felt less shame than he might have otherwise in insisting, "I got a girl in a bad way, sir."

Jane had to fight hard from leaping off the chair and slapping her brother upside the head (or worse). She squirmed, knowing she would be far too recognizable to her own flesh and blood if she were to even stand up and walk over to him. "You got a girl pregnant?" she said through her teeth.

"Well…yeah," Tommy said. "I figured…y'know, I figured maybe stuff like that must happen to ya now and then."

"Don't you go around thinkin' you know what I do," Jane said. "If I ever caught wind of a woman carrying my child, I'd settle right down and marry her. You don't mess with responsibility like that, son."

"Well that's just it, sir," Tommy interrupted. "I need money, I need money to support her."

"What's this lucky girl's name?"

"Lydia."

"Lydia. Well, son, you just go on to her and tell her you wanna do right by her. You don't run away, and you sure as hell don't come with me. You come with me, and you might not make it home in one piece. Unless of course, you wanna take the coward's way out and let your child be raised without a father." She snorted and glanced over at him, knowing the cruelty of what she was about to say but hoping it would be enough to shock Tommy into at least shutting up. "Lookit you, all fancied up. You probably don't even understand what it means to go a day without plenty of milk-fed attention from your ever-lovin' Ma and Pop—"

"My parents have been dead for years," Tommy growled, and the lack of "sir" was noticeable. "And I ain't a coward. Sure didn't think you were, neither, but any man who'd up and quit just because—"

"He got a girl in a family way? Son, you better grow up quick. It's too late for me, understand? You're young enough. You find yourself some honest work and you do it, stay true to it. Don't be fooled by stories you hear, no matter how glamorous they make me look. I ain't so glamorous, and my life sure as hell ain't, either. I'm sure you've got a helluva lot goin' for ya."

"I have nothing," Tommy whispered.

Jane's voice softened. "You had a woman close enough to ya that she's now carrying your child. That's something. That's somethin' real big, young man. It's a special gift, y'know, bein' able to do that to a woman. I understand maybe you ain't such a bad kid. You're just thinkin' about right now, and what this Lydia might need right now is money, and you'll do just about anything for it."

"I would," said Tommy fervently. "Anything. Please, Mr. Wyatt, let me—"

"You gotta think about your future, boy," she said, talking over him. "You want your son or daughter to be proud of ya, don'tcha? You wouldn't wanna shame your unborn child by doin' the sorts of things I do just for some sordid coin." She let that sink in, but couldn't bring herself to look too closely at Tommy to see if he was really getting it. "Now you go on home. Which of these horses here is yours?"

She waited to see if Tommy was going to fight to be heard, or call her a coward, but he lifted to point and said, "Black one on the end there."

He jumped when Jane fired a bullet at the peg which held his horse's reins to the porch. The horse was spooked as well, and trotted quickly over to Tommy. With a scowl, he took her reins and stroked her nose to calm her down.

"Incidentally," Jane said, stowing her weapon again. "I'm sittin' in the shadows here, all by myself. How'd you know who I was?"

Tommy took his time answering, waiting until he had climbed up onto his horse. "It was a guess," he said. "But it wouldn't have occurred to me if Stanley hadn't bragged about having had you in his tavern once. He said you'd be coming back tomorrow, and I figured maybe you were early in—"

"He said I'd be here tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

"Huh. I don't remember leaving such a message."

"Oh…well, that's what he said. Said it'd been months since the first time you came, and then outta nowhere, you just stopped by again… anyway." Tommy started leading the horse away.

"You're gonna think on what I said, won't ya?" Jane called after him.

As he slunk away without responding, Jane couldn't help feeling this was the first time Jake had really let her down.