Over breakfast the next morning, Lucas noticed that his son was uncharacteristically quiet. He tried to let it go, but the events of the previous afternoon had him on edge.

"Mark, are you feeling alright?"

"What?" He looked up to see his pa staring at him in concern. "Oh, I'm fine."

"...You've hardly touched your breakfast."

Mark shrugged. "Guess I'm just not that hungry."

Lucas continued to watch his son as he stared down at the bowl, playing with his oatmeal. "...Something on your mind?"

"I guess," he answered without looking up.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Several moments elapsed before Mark let out a heavy sigh, dropping his spoon and looking up at his pa. "...If… if I thought Jeffrey had lied to Clay, and Clay didn't know about it… well… should I tell Clay?"

"Sounds to me like a good way to start a fight. Don't you think you should find out if Jeffrey was lying or not, first?"

"But… but what if the only way to find out was to ask Jeffrey about it? And what if he kept lying about it?"

"If you're going to accuse a man of something, you best do it to his face. If he keeps lying… there's not much you can do. It's his word against your speculation."

"...What if it wasn't speculation?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well… let's say we both saw the same thing, but at different times. He said it was one way, but I thought it was another."

"Then one of you saw wrong. Or maybe you saw different things. Talk to Jeffrey first, and if you can't reach a conclusion… Clay deserves to hear both sides. He'll have to make up his mind for himself." Lucas stood and began taking his dishes to the sink. "I won't be long in town, I should be back in about three hours."

"Alright."

Mark spent the morning doing his homework from the previous day before he set to cleaning his rifle. He knew it would be a while yet until the doctor or his pa let him start shooting again, but he enjoyed the process.

When Lucas returned to the ranch, he worked on chores around the homestead until lunch. After he and Mark ate, he saddled up again and headed out to the range. Mark spent quite a while that afternoon looking over the lessons Miss Pritchard had sent with his pa. Finishing shortly before three, he made his way outside, letting out a heavy sigh as he sat down on the porch steps. He knew what he needed to do, but how and when to do it was something he was still trying to figure out. Part of him just wanted to tell his pa; to let him handle it. ...But he couldn't ignore what his father had told him that morning. 'If you're going to accuse a man of something, you best do it to his face.'

Mark spent a while longer staring across the yard before deciding to head over to the barn. As he started to get up, however, he heard a horse in the distance. The young man looked at the rider for a long time; he didn't want it to be Micah, but he knew the marshal's frame all too well.

"Well, howdy, Mark," Micah greeted, bringing his horse to a stop in front of the house. "Didn't expect you to be home. I thought you were going back to school this week?"

"...Yesterday didn't go too well. Doc said to give it another day."

"Your father around?"

Mark looked at the marshal curiously. "Didn't you see him in town this morning?"

"No, I've been checking on the outlining ranches all day. He out on the range?"

"Yeah… why?"

"I just have some town business to discuss with him."

"...He's on the south range."

"Thanks." Micah started to turn his horse, Mark's voice stopping him.

"Micah, wait."

The marshal looked back down at the boy, confused by the expression on his face. "...Something the matter?"

"That depends."

"Depends?" Micah dismounted and took a step towards the porch. "Depends on what?"

Mark's voice was short and angry as he replied. "Whether or not you've been lying to us."

"...Lying? ...What… what would ever make you think that?"

"Because you said the man who shot me was just some saddle tramp. You said he was nothing more than an intruder looking for supplies. You said I didn't need to worry about the details!"

"...I still don't understand what…"

"I remember, Micah! I remember it all! Why did you hide the truth from us?! Why didn't you tell my pa it was Reef Jackson who shot me?! Why did you lie?!"

Micah stared at the boy in shock. "...How… how do you know who he…"

"I don't know what he did or where he went wrong, but I know he and my pa used to be best friends back in Oklahoma! I know he was the one who shot me and I know my pa deserves to know the truth!"

Mark turned to walk away, Micah grabbing his arm.

"Wait just a minute!"

"NO! You lied to me; you lied to my pa- you lied to the town!"

"I was trying to protect you!"

"Protect me?! Micah, I could have DIED! You think lying about the man who almost killed me is PROTECTING me?!"

"Yes! Because if your father EVER finds out that Reef Jackson was here, it won't be two weeks before he's hauled off to jail!"

"What are you talking about?!"

"Ten years ago, Reef Jackson shot your pa and tried to take your mother. Just a few months ago, the man showed up in town and your pa just about killed him in cold blood. I don't know for sure what stopped him, but I can tell you this: if Lucas finds out the truth about what happened here, the United States Army couldn't stop him from going after the man!"

"I thought you said you arrested him! Or was that a lie, too?!"

"I did! Mark, you don't understand! When it comes to Reef Jackson, your pa isn't himself. If he finds out Reef Jackson is the one who shot you, he'll move heaven and earth to see him dead!"

"Not my pa! My pa's made a lot of mistakes in his past, but he wouldn't murder someone in cold blood! You said yourself that he had the opportunity and didn't kill Jackson! He won't try to murder a man who's already in prison!"

"I'm sorry, but this is one time you're sorely mistaken about your father!"

"No I'm not! I trust my pa, and there's nothing you can say that will change my mind! Either you tell him the truth, or I will!"

Micah stared into the boy's cold, angry eyes and knew there was nothing he could do. He finally let out a heavy sigh, willing to tell one last lie in hopes of protecting his friend. "...Alright. But you are to NEVER bring up the name Reef Jackson around your pa under ANY circumstances. The last thing your father will need is to have that fire rekindled. I'll talk to him, and that will be the end of it, you hear?" Micah continued to eye the boy, waiting for him to answer. "You hear?"

"...I hear," he angrily answered.

There was a long silence between them before Micah finally allowed his expression to soften. "...Mark, you… you have to understand..."

"No, Micah. I don't." Without another word, Mark turned around and walked inside, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Hello, Son."

Mark looked up to see his pa walking through the door, a much calmer look on his face than he had anticipated. "Pa," he quietly greeted.

Lucas set his rifle in the stand before taking a seat and pulling off his boots. "You get all your homework done?"

"It's done."

"I talked to Doc this morning, he said to leave it up to you about school tomorrow. What do you think?"

"I don't care…"

Lucas looked at his son quizzically before he walked towards the stove and checked on the stew. "You've just about boiled all the liquid out of this," he called, priming the pump and then adding more water to the dish.

"Sorry, guess I'm just distracted."

"Do you think you're up to school tomorrow or not?"

"...Yeah, I reckon so."

"Good. But if it gets to be too much again, I want you to promise me you'll head over to Micah's." Lucas turned around to find his son staring at him in bewilderment. "...Something wrong?"

"Is something wrong? You expect me to go over there after what he did?!"

"What are you talking about, Son?"

Unsure if the marshal had lied again or if his pa was avoiding the subject, Mark finally stood and took a few steps towards him. "...Did Micah find you on the range today?"

Lucas nodded.

"What did you talk about?"

"Town business… why?"

Mark shook his head before disappearing into the next room. Lucas quickly followed after him, finding his son sitting on the bed, cradling his head in his hands. The rancher sat down, a mix of confusion and concern on his face.

"...Son, did something happen between you and Micah?"

Mark let out a heavy sigh, slowly looking up at his pa. "Would it make any sense to you if I said that my question about Clay and Jeffrey was really about you and Micah?"

The rancher shook his head, waiting for Mark to explain.

"...I didn't want it to be true. I wanted to be wrong. ...But it was so vivid… it was like I never forgot…"

"Forgot what?"

"...What happened, the day I got shot."

"You remember?" he asked in surprise. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"...Because you said that if I was going to accuse someone, I needed to do it to their face."

"...What are you saying, Mark?"

"I'm saying Micah lied to us. I didn't startle an intruder. Reef Jackson was waiting for me when I got home." Mark watched as a look of concentrated hatred settled in Lucas's eyes. A look he had only seen a handful of times. "...Pa?"

Lucas didn't answer. He walked to the front room and put out the fire in the stove before retrieving his boots and rifle, Mark following behind him.

"...Pa?"

"Get something to eat while I hitch the team. We're going into town."

Mark sat in the buckboard as he watched his pa enter the marshal's office. Only a few brief moments passed before the yelling ensued; his father's exact words too muffled for him to make out. In time, Mark heard Micah's angry voice shouting back at Lucas. A few passersby looked curiously at the marshal's office, then Mark, before briskly continuing on their way.

Ten minutes later, Lucas stormed out of the office, but turned to go down the boardwalk.

"...Pa?"

"Stay there. I'll be back in a minute."

As the rancher disappeared into the telegraph office, Micah stepped out of the jailhouse.

"Mark McCain, I told you I didn't want you saying anything to your pa!"

"I thought you were lying about that, too," he retorted.

"One day you're going to look back on this whole ordeal and you'll understand why you should have kept quiet!"

"No, Micah, I won't! Because if there's one thing I've learned, it's that the truth should never have to be hidden!"

"Is that why your pa never told you about Reef Jackson?"

"What Pa does or doesn't tell me is his business! And we both know that there's a big difference between not talking about something and lying to someone's face!"

"I did what I felt was best for both of you, and I'm not sorry I did it!"

Mark shook his head as the marshal walked back to the office. Lucas returned a few minutes later, climbing up into the buckboard before releasing the brake and urging the team on. Mark let his pa brood for quite some time, but he couldn't get the marshal's comment out of his head. He looked up at his pa, hesitant to break the silence.

"There's something on your mind," Lucas suddenly said. "Out with it."

"...Micah said that a long time ago, Jackson shot you… and tried to take ma… and… and that he was here a few months ago. I… I don't mean any disrespect, but… why didn't you tell me?"

"We'll talk about it later."

"...I'm sorry, Pa. I-"

"You don't need to apologize. Now just isn't the time. We'll talk about it later."

"Yes sir."

Much later that evening, Mark was getting ready for bed when Lucas entered the room. He hesitated at the sight of Mark's injuries, pained by what his son had gone through. He eventually sat down on Mark's bunk, gesturing for his son to do the same.

"Son, first off, I want you to know that if I had realized you were in any danger from Reef, that I would have warned you. ...I thought it was all over. I never… I never would have thought Reef would go after you. I'm sorry he did, and I'm sorry you got pulled into this… I'm sorry I wasn't here."

"What he did isn't your fault, though."

"I know," he answered with a nod. "But I can still hurt for what he put you through." There was a long silence before Lucas went on. "...To answer your question, I didn't tell you because your mother didn't want you to know. You were too young at the time to really grasp what had happened and your ma didn't want to put you through trying to understand all of it. She knew what kind of world you were going to grow up in… and she wanted to protect your innocence as long as possible. ...After Reef returned… I knew that one day, I would tell you what had happened. But I also knew that I had a lot of hatred and bitterness I needed to deal with on my own, first."

"...Why don't I remember any of it?"

"Had you been there, you might have been too young to remember it, anyway. But you were at your aunt and uncle's when it happened. As for me being shot, your ma just explained that I had been hurt." Lucas looked into his son's eyes and could see a question there. "It's alright. I might not have the answers, but you can speak your mind."

"...If you were shot… how'd Ma get away?"

"...I was on a ladder when Reef shot me, and when I fell, I must have hit my head because I don't remember anything after that. The way your mother told it to me, she heard the gunfire and ran out to the barn where Reef and I had been working. He picked her up and threw her on a horse, mounted up behind her and took off. Your ma eventually got the horse to start bucking and he threw Jackson. She raced to town and got help."

"But what if the horse had thrown her?"

A wistful smile crossed Lucas's face as he answered. "I asked your ma the same thing. She looked at me, hands on her hips, and asked if I had forgotten just who had taught her to ride."

"...What was that supposed to mean?"

"She was reminding me that your Uncle Johnny had taught her just about everything there was to know about horses."

Lucas watched as Mark's eyes suddenly grew sad.

"...What is it?"

"I… Pa, I wanted to be wrong. Then… deep down, when I realized I wasn't, I just wanted him to have a good reason for what he did. But… but Micah's not even sorry! My whole life, I've seen people betray us… betray our friendship; betray our trust. I thought Micah was different. But he's not. He's just like everyone else!"

Though the same bitterness had been festering inside of Lucas, hearing his son's words gave him pause. He thought for a long moment before responding. "...Son, I'm as angry with Micah as you are. And to be honest, I don't know what things are going to look like between the three of us moving forward. ...But what does make Micah different from the others is that he did what he did, right or wrong, because he thought he was helping us."

"That doesn't change that he still lied! It doesn't change-" Mark stopped short, letting out a deep sigh. "...It doesn't change that I can't trust him. ...And it doesn't change that… that what he did, hurts."

Lucas put a hand on his son's shoulder as he nodded. "I know, Son. But in time… in time we can hope that hurt will heal."

"Maybe. But the thing is, when wounds are this deep…" Mark looked down at what was left of his injuries as he went on. "...They always leave a scar."

Friday afternoon, Mark stood on the schoolhouse steps waiting for Lucas to arrive. Much later than he expected, his pa drove up and brought the buckboard to a stop.

"Hi, Pa."

"Son," he greeted, waiting for his son to climb up into the seat before urging the team on. "Sorry I'm late, I had to stop at the telegraph office."

"The telegraph office?"

Lucas nodded. "I'm trying to find out where they sent Reef." Noticing a shift in his son's mannerisms, the rancher eyed him curiously. "Something wrong?"

"...It's nothing."

"Nothing?"

"...Just something Micah said… it doesn't matter."

"It does if it's bothering you this much. What'd he say?"

Mark let out a heavy sigh. "...Pa, is it true you tried to kill Reef Jackson?"

"...It's true that I wanted to," he admitted. "...I'm not proud of it… I'm not defending it. But what Reef had done… it had left hatred festering in my heart for ten years. A hatred that… that did almost drive me to force his hand."

"...Force his hand?"

"What I had in mind wasn't really any better than killing him in cold blood… I knew I'd be able to out-shoot Reef without any problem. But what was left of my conscience wouldn't let me just shoot him. ...I had planned to force gunplay between us." Looking to his son again, Lucas could see the confusion… the disappointment in Mark's eyes. "...Like I said, I'm not proud of it. I should have let Micah run him out of town. ...But that hatred had driven me to a dark place."

"...What happened?"

"...The Reef Jackson I knew died a long time ago. He was replaced by a shell of a man driven almost mad by his own cowardice and…" The second part still angered Lucas as he remembered Reef's mention of Margaret. "...And what he called, grief. Reef... he wanted to die. …And I couldn't give him that satisfaction."

"...So it wasn't about killing you…"

"What do you mean?"

"...Before… before it… happened, Reef said he had to shoot me to get you to go after him. I… I thought… I thought he did it to lure you into some kind of trap. ...I thought it was about him killing you."

Lucas closed his eyes for a long moment, regret and grief etched on his face. "Mark, Son… I'm sorry. You should've never got pulled into this and-"

"...And it's still not your fault." Mark hesitated before asking, "...What about now?"

"Now?"

"...You said that when Reef came the first time, you couldn't give him the satisfaction of dying. But… Micah… he thinks if you find out where Jackson is… that… you'll…"

"I know what Micah thinks. And no, I am not looking for Reef so I can kill him."

"...Why then? It's over. Why… why put yourself through facing him all over again?"

"Because it's not over, Son. There are questions I need the answers to… questions only Reef can answer."

Mark slowly nodded, still taking in everything his pa had said. Lucas brought the team to a stop off the side of the road and turned towards his son.

"...Mark, I had hoped you would be a little older before you learned… you learned just what I had in store for that night. ...I'm sorry I'm not always the man… the father… the example I should be… and I understand your disappointment. ...But I promise you that I will not let myself go there again… and I hope you can forgive me for going there in the first place."

A bit surprised, Mark slowly nodded. "...No one's perfect, Pa…" A teasing grin swept across his face as he went on, "Not even you."

Lucas smiled and urged the team back onto the road. There were a few brief moments of silence before Mark turned to Lucas again.

"...Wait a minute, why can't you just ask Judge Hannavan where he sent Jackson?"

"Judge Hannavan just so happened to be called to Santa Fe the day I got back. He won't return until next week."

"Well didn't anyone else in town go to the sentencing?"

Lucas shook his head. "It was a closed sentencing."

"...Can't you explain to Micah why you want to know where he is?"

"I tried that," he sighed. "He doesn't want to believe me. Unless one of the prisons get back to me before then, we're just going to have to wait for Judge Hannavan to return."