Staring out the boarded window, her eyes search the horizon for any signs that her sons are out there and not somewhere trapped in this house. She is sure that Jarrod and Nick will have immediately left in search of them, as soon as their buggy was discovered. Her fear, after hearing Martha's declaration that she holds her sons as well, is that somehow Buddy was able to overpower them. Victoria knows she has to be very careful how she goes about dealing with the obviously deranged woman, and her first objective will be to gain proof about her sons one way or the other. At least Gene and Heath should be safe on the ranch.

Turning back around she watches Audra, who has been kneeling down near the lock of the door, abruptly stand up and start looking around the barren room. Audra, unaware of the eyes upon her, walks slowly around the room staring at the floor until she ends up beside the bed where she bends down and lifts up the thin mattress. Using her fingers she begins to trace the thin metal wires that the mattress is lying upon. The scowl that suddenly adorns her face is followed by an exasperated sigh as she turns and plops down on top of the bed, causing Victoria to smile. She recognizes the sheer determination she sees in her daughter's eyes, it is the same one she has witnessed many times when her very capable daughter has an idea she is trying to make come to fruition.

"What is it, Audra?" She asks as she walks over to sit beside her and then takes her daughter's hand in her own.

"Oh, Mother," Audra's voice echoes disappointment, "I…," she stops talking and stares at her mother's hair, "What is your hairpin made of?"

Unconsciously, Victoria reaches her hand up and begins to trace the hairpin she is wearing, 'My hairpin? I'm not sure. I think…"

The sound of a key being inserted into the lock on the door brings their conversation to a halt as both women rise to their feet, with Victoria stepping slightly in front of Audra. Bracing themselves for what is to come, they hear the familiar click of the lock opening and see the slow twist of the doorknob before the door swings open. In walks the two young men that had accompanied Matt and Martha earlier. One young man is carrying a tray and the other is carrying a small table. Placing the table down across from the bed, the young man quickly leaves and returns with two chairs that he sets on opposites sides of the table. The other young man then sets the tray down before turning to the two frightened women.

"Good Evening, ma'am. My name is Clay Haskins and this is my brother Larry. I know we weren't properly introduced earlier."

Victoria does not respond but simply glances over to the table.

"The Simmons asked us to bring up ya supper and ta let ya know they'll be in to see you in the morning," Clay continues as he uncovers the tray of food and begins to set two bowls and three spoons on the table. Picking up an extra spoon, he uncovers the pot of stew, dips the spoon in, getting a nice portion, and sticks it in his mouth. He then rips off a piece of bread, smears some of the leftover gravy from the spoon on top before popping it in his mouth. Lastly, he picks up the extra glass and the pitcher of water, pours himself some and then quickly downs it. Looking up, he sees two sets of curious eyes watching him.

"They wanted ya ta know they ain't poisoned ya," Clay smiles, sticking the used spoon in his pocket and handing the glass over to Larry who says nothing. He then moves away from the table and gestures for the women to sit.

Victoria and Audra exchange glances but neither one makes any effort to move.

"I'd like to speak with Mrs. Simmons this evening," Victoria requests in the most regal voice, "concerning our coming to an applicable agreement."

"Sorry ma'am, the Simmons are going to be busy tonight," Clay smiles over to his brother who tries to stifle his own laughter, "but I'll let them know you asked."

Heading over to the door the two brothers start to leave when Clay stops and turns back toward the two women.

"I almost forgot!" He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a leather wallet. 'I was supposed to give you this," He says, as he hands it over to Victoria.

Her eyes pool as she traces the item with her fingers. "Gene," she whispers, as she recognizes the gift she had given him for his last birthday. "He's here?"

"Yes, ma'am. Mrs. Simmons figured you would want some kind of proof."

"And Heath? Is here as well?" She is able to keep her voice steady against the overwhelming panic she is feeling. She knows their best chance is for her to play their game and make a deal for her sons' release. Yes, her sons.

The brothers exchange snide glances with one another before busting out in laughter.

Bringing his outburst under control, Clay finally answers, "Yes, ma'am. Got'em both. You'll be able to see'm tomorrow."

Without giving her a chance to respond, he lightly pushes his brother toward the door and the two leave the room, locking the door behind them.

Turning to face Audra, Victoria gently wipes away the tears falling down her daughter's face before pulling her into a fierce hug and allowing her own tears to fall. Gene and Heath are here and somehow she needs to figure out a way to help them.

The sight greeting Jarrod, and his group of men, as they ride into the courtyard of the mansion sends waves of alarm rippling just underneath Jarrod's skin. The door to the mansion is wide open and sprawled out on the front porch is Willy, his gun laying on the ground beside him. Scanning the perimeter for any type of movement, Jarrod quietly draws his gun and motions for the others to do the same. The yard is eerily silent, void of any signs of life, no Ciego, no horses, just nothing. He looks over at Alpha and can see the distressed look in the young man's eyes. Something happened here just after they left, someone planned this and they fell right into their trap.

Carefully moving to dismount, he keeps his gun ready and his eyes alert, as his heart screams for him to get inside and check on his brothers. Wasting no time, as his feet hit the ground he quickly makes his way over to Willy, the young ranch hand who had been tasked with guarding the front door for intruders. Squatting down beside him, Jarrod places his fingers on his neck and happily feels the rhythmic pounding of a steady pulse. Moving his hand down to lay upon the man's chest, he feels the steady rise and fall of each breath. Tapping the calm face, his confusion rises as the man grumbles and then turns over onto his side, mumbling something about it not being time to wake up. Looking around at the scene once again, he notices a mug laying on its side near Willy's gun. Reaching down, he grabs the mug before standing up and facing the other men.

"I think he's asleep," Jarrod explains to the invested group behind him.

"Willy, he'd never do that, Mr. Barkley," Pete jumps in to defend his friend.

Holding up the mug, he looks inside and then sets it down on the porch.

"I don't think he did it on purpose," he replies, "Pete, stay out here and keep watch, the rest of you follow me."

Making his way through the front door, Jarrod reels in his worry and tries to concentrate on the task at hand as his instincts keep screaming that whoever is behind this is long gone. He is well aware, that when he reaches the top of the stairs and walks into the room that now belongs to his youngest brother, it will be empty and once again he will have failed to protect his family. We seem to continually be two steps behind and now they have two more members of our family. Dejected, he tries to shake away the thoughts clouding his brain and focus on discovering what occurred while they were gone.

Motioning for Tim to head toward the kitchen, Jarrod and Alpha start to make the ascent up the grand stairs. A noise coming from the hall causes them to pause and raise their guns in defense of who might be approaching. It is not until they hear the familiar sound of Duke McCall's baritone voice, that he relaxes a little. A small feeling of relief moves throughout him as he sees the familiar face of their foreman making his way around the corner to stand directly in front of him.

"Duke," Jarrod greets the other man while holstering his gun and motioning for Alpha to do the same. Accepting the outstretched hand, he notices the concerned look in Duke's eyes and knows he is about to confirms Jarrod's astute conclusions, his brothers are gone.

"Jarrod, it's good to see you," Duke begins, not waiting for the questions to be asked, knowing that this Barkley will want him to get straight to the point.

"We were the first crew back. When we got here, the door was open and there wasn't a soul in sight. Ciego, Willy, Red, Colb, and Snyder were all passed out or asleep, can't say for sure which, but I went ahead and sent Leroy for the doc. I left Jacob with Red and them and the rest of us," he points to the three men behind him, "came over to check out the house." He pauses for a moment and runs a hand through his hair.

"When no one answered, we went ahead and came in through the kitchen, that's where we found Silas unconscious on the kitchen floor," he stops for a moment not missing the concerned look that flashes across Jarrod's eyes.

"He's got a steady pulse just like the rest of them," Duke pauses again letting that sink into the distraught man in front of him. He has known this boy for most of his life and he knows how deeply he cares about his friends and family, even if he has learned to hide it behind a cool demeanor.

"Jamie is down in the kitchen with Silas, then we come up the back stairs."

"Gene, Heath?" Jarrod interrupts, his heart racing, knowing the answer but still needing to ask.

"I'm sorry, Jarrod. They ain't here. Ya might want to come and have a look at the room. Buddy is in a chair, out just like the rest of 'em."

Taking a step around Duke, Jarrod and Alpha walk into the small room that faces the corral. Their breath catches as they both see the disheveled state of the bed. Heath had put up a struggle but in the end, his weakened body was no match for the men determined to take him. Walking toward the chairs where he can see the top of Buddy's head, he can see the coffee service set on the nightstand that Heath only days ago used for a table. That must have been how they slipped them the sleeping powder. Taking another step forward he feels the rise of his foot as he steps on something discarded on the floor. Kneeling down he picks up the strangely familiar handkerchief and raises it to his nose taking the aroma of a sweet smelling liquid.

"What is it?" Alpha asks, making his way over to Jarrod.

"Chloroform," Jarrod answers as he tucks the cloth into his pocket.

He walks over to the bed and gently wipes his hand over the sheets where his little brother has spent so much time over the last week trying to heal from his injuries. His mind flashes to the few times he was able to keep Heath company while he recovered. The boy has a sharp mind and a unique view of the world that challenged Jarrod to look beyond his normal scope of reality. We're not going to lose you now that we are just starting to get to know you. I'm not going to let that happen.

"You think they used that on Heath and Gene?" Alpha interrupts his contemplations.

Glancing back to where Buddy is asleep in the chair and then over to the bed once again, Jarrod notices rope fibers on the white sheets.

"I think they drugged Gene and tied up Heath, then used the chloroform on him," Jarrod's voice is heavy as he thinks about what his brothers must have gone through. Looking up he sees Duke standing in the doorway, "Duke, please have the men get the horses settled. Once the doc has a chance to check everyone over and the other crews have come in, I'll be riding out to meet back up with Nick. We'll need you to keep an eye on things here."

"Sure thing, Jarrod." he nods toward his boss, a man he greatly respects.

"And, Duke," Jarrod calls to him as he leaves, "remember, whoever did this had to be trusted by all these men."

Stupid, Frank! How could you be so stupid? It only makes sense that the girl's doctor would be in on it.

Running further down into the depths of Ophir, his thoughts have a paralyzing effect on his ability to care what happens to him. His only concern is getting to the girl, whoever she turns out to be, and making sure no further harm comes to her. How did you not see this before? He scolds himself, as he turns toward the gated path separating the rest of the hospital with that of the basement. Seeing the attendees rise to meet him, Frank comes to a stop and for the first time notices Eddie and Mark coming up behind him.

"Unlock the gate, we need to get through," Frank demands.

"Sorry, Marshal," the attendee answers apologetically, "only authorized personnel are allowed past this gate. Unless you have the approval of the superintendent."

"Son, I aim to save a young girl's life," he starts as he pulls his gun from its holster, "and I don't plan on allowing anything to get in my way." He points his gun at the orderly. In his peripheral vision, he can see that Eddie and Mark have drawn their guns as well. "Now, do you plan to continue to impede the lawful authority of the U.S. Marshals?"

He can see the sweat beading on the man's forehead start to make its descent down the outline of his face.

"Uh…"

Franks cocks his gun and raises a questioning eyebrow to the only person standing in his way, causing the man to jump and grab for his keys.

"Uh… no sir," he fumbles with the keys as he nervously tries to unlock the gate.

As soon as the key enters the lock and Frank hears the click that announces its opening, he barges through, pushing the man back, racing past him and into the crowded corridor. Mark and Eddie follow suit and run past the stunned attendee who slowly regains his composure as he watches the three lawmen make their way through the mobs of patients. The distant whispers of the unfortunates begin to rise as the drawn guns send some into a state of panic. Their screams and attempts to flee overwhelm the hospital staff as attendees work to calm the patients and draw them into the cramped rooms on either side.

Eddie and Mark watch as Frank systematically pushes through the hoard, his focus blinded to the chaos ensuing all around him. Following closely in his wake, they finally make it to the last obstacle, the barred door that keeps the truly dangerous isolated in their individual cells. Banging on the door, a scream from just beyond, in the bowels of the building, pierces their hearts and sends Frank into a frantic rage. He begins kicking the door in an effort to somehow break open the iron lock, all the while searching the hall for any signs of life.

A shadow to his right catches his eye, and he sees movement coming out of a side room and someone running toward the door, keys jingling in his hands. The attendee immediately begins to unlock the door without even acknowledging the men on the other side.

"Hurry! It's Dr. Stancliffe! He's gone mad!" he screams breathlessly.

Needing no encouragement, the men burst through and directly head to the small cell Frank had visited only a few days ago. As they breach the entrance, they see Dr. Stancliffe holding the hair of the young girl, trying to force her head back as she screams and fights against him. In his other hand, he holds a glass of clear liquid. So determined is he on his goal, Dr. Stancliffe doesn't notice the three men now standing behind witnessing his cruelty on the child he only an hour ago claimed to care about so deeply.

"Let her go," Franks calmly demands, hoping the click of the gun's hammer will be enough to stop the deranged man.

Turning abruptly, Dr. Stancliffe eyes widen at the sight of the three lawmen there to witness his fall from grace. Looking back at the girl he has pinned into a corner as he tried to shove her head back and force the poisoned laced liquid down her throat, he can see the depths of the trauma in the corners of her eyes. Unhinging his fingers from her tangled hair, he looks back to the men, his eyes filling with regret at what he allowed himself to become.

Raising his arms slightly in an act of surrender, he watches closely as Frank moves to reholster his gun and remove from his belt a pair of handcuffs he carries. There is no escaping the punishment for his greed, for his abhorrent need for recognition, he can see that now.

"I'm sorry, Molly," he says, his voice laden with shame, "Forgive my weakness," he whispers, and without hesitation, he downs the liquid in the glass allowing the cyanide to do its bidding.

Knowing there's nothing he can do for the doctor, Frank quickly steps over the man and lifts Molly into his arms, not wanting the already traumatized girl to witness the brutal death, he carries her into the hall.

"You came back," she chokes out as she lays her head on his shoulder, "You believe me," She cries.