Time seemed to stand still as Mark stood watching. A few folks gathered on the street, peering into Sweeney's to see what had happened. Finally, there was movement at the saloon doors. A large group of men emerged from the building, lingering in the street for a brief moment before going their separate ways. Once he was certain none of them were Micah, Mark again fixed his attention on the saloon. At long last, the marshal stepped onto the boardwalk with two other men, cupping his right hand over his left bicep. The three made their way to the marshal's office, Sweeney returning to the saloon in short order.

Mark let out a sigh of relief as he walked back towards the bed and sat down. He turned down the lamp and got under the covers, but quickly realized he wasn't going to fall asleep anytime soon; his mind was too awake.

For the next hour, Mark stared at the ceiling, waging a silent war against his conscience. He still wanted to be angry with Micah. He wanted to hear the man admit he was wrong and apologize before he even considered forgiving the marshal.

But life was too short for that.

Giving up on sleep, Mark threw his shirt and boots on before making his way down to the lobby. Per his father's orders, Mark let Lou know where he was going and then headed to the marshal's office, hesitating to enter. He knew it wasn't going to be an easy conversation. He knew it might just stir up even more tension between them. ...But he had to try.

Micah looked up from his desk as the door swung open, surprise shadowing his face. "Mark, what are you doing here?"

"...Heard the gunfire a while ago…" Seeing the bandage on the marshal's arm, he asked, "You alright?"

"...Just a graze."

There were a few moments of awkward silence before Mark finally shook his head and plopped into a chair. "...Micah, I'm sorry. What you did made me angry and… and it hurt. I shouldn't have ignored you the way I did, but… but it's just…" He let out a heavy sigh. "You lying to me was like if Pa had lied to me. You… you don't have any idea how much it meant to me to be able to trust you. How much I needed to be able to trust you. ...I didn't have any idea until I couldn't any more. And… and while it hurts that you lied to us… what hurts even more is that I know you'd do it again. That if a situation came up like this again… you wouldn't give a second thought about lying to us. I… I don't really know what to do with that. It hurts and it makes me angry… but I can't stop thinking about what Pa said, either. You did what you did because you thought you were helping us. I don't think that makes it right… but I reckon it makes it different. ...You asked me a while back how long I was going to hold this against you. ...And while I don't know if a time will ever come when what happened won't hurt anymore... tonight made me realize that I can't hold onto this forever."

"...Thank you, Mark. ...But there's one thing you're wrong about."

"What do you mean?"

Micah looked the boy square in the eyes as he answered. "I will never lie or try to hide the truth from you and your pa ever again. ...You were right… just because I thought I knew what was best, it didn't make my decision right. ...When you first confronted me, you said something I've been doing a lot of thinking about. You said you trusted your pa. ...I should have done the same. I should have listened to reason and I should have realized that your father wasn't out to kill Reef Jackson, and I'm sorry. I know that doesn't make all the pain I caused go away, but I hope that someday, you will be able to trust me again. You and your pa mean the world to me… and that relationship isn't something I ever want to lose."

Several moments passed before Mark finally answered. "...Me either."

Mark didn't go back to the hotel until well into the next morning. He didn't want to leave room for resentment to build up again and refused to leave until they had talked everything through.

For the first time in a long time, Mark did his homework in the marshal's office that afternoon. He was used to spending the hours after school at the jail when his pa was in town on business or picking up supplies, and it felt good to have some sense of normalcy again. Micah bought dinner at the cafe before inviting the young man to join him while he walked the town; something Mark was more than happy to do.

"...You know, I might just get Nils to watch the office Sunday. What do you say you and me go fishing?"

"Well that'd be great! I… oh, I can't."

"What do you mean you can't? ...There some special lady you have plans with?" he teased.

"No… it's my pa. He doesn't want me to leave town."

"You'd be with me."

Mark shook his head. "Pa was adamant. I can't step foot out of town until he gets back."

"Well then, it looks like we'll have to settle for an afternoon of checkers."

"If you're sure you can take losing; I've been practicing," he warned.

Micah smiled along with Mark, growing concerned as the grin slowly faded from the boy's face. "Something the matter?"

"...Just worried about Pa. ...I knew what happened hadn't been easy for him to accept, but… the other night…" Mark shook his head. "...I could see how much worry I've put him through. I hate seeing that look in his eyes… I hate being such a burden on him."

Micah stopped and turned towards the young man. "Hold on there. First off, you did not put your father through anything. What happened is Reef Jackson's fault and his alone. I'll take blame for putting your Pa through extra worry by not telling him where Jackson was, but you didn't do anything wrong. And secondly, if your pa were here, he'd be the first to tell you that you aren't a burden to him. Lucas wasn't even involved and you're worried about him. You don't consider that to be a burden, do you?"

"No, but… it's different. If it wasn't for me, he wouldn't have had any hesitation in going to Colorado. ...And it's really not just the trip. Because of what happened, he's always worrying over me. He can't have a moment's peace if he doesn't know exactly where I'm at and what I'm doing. I don't see any other fathers having to constantly check on their fifteen-year-old sons."

"Mark, your father worries about you because he loves you. And a burden is the last thing he would consider that love to be. Of course he's going to be on edge for a while… we all are. But you survived, Mark. It's a relief to your pa that he gets to worry about you. That he doesn't always know where you are."

"...I don't understand how that's a relief."

"If you had died, there would be no more reason for your pa to worry. If you had died, your pa would always know where to find you- in a grave on some corner of the ranch. If you had died, your pa would be carrying a burden far greater than he could ever bear. Give him time. Let him enjoy worrying. And don't feel guilty for holding onto the life your father and mother gave you."

"...But do you think he's going to be alright?"

Micah stepped closer and put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I've been watching you and your pa for a long time. It'll take both of you a while to adjust. But you will, and while he'll learn to slowly start letting go again, I can promise you one thing: your pa will never stop loving you, so you better get used to it."

An embarrassed smile played on Mark's face as he nodded. "I know."

It was late when Mark returned to the hotel that night. He quietly made his way up the stairway, mindful to skip the second and fourth steps. The young man shook his head as he reached for the handle of room number five. When was Lou ever going to give him a room with a lock? He stepped inside and shut the door behind him, letting out a deep breath.

Mark's entire frame tensed as he suddenly felt a firm set of hands grab his shoulders and drive him into the wall. His head snapped backwards, sending pain through his skull as a cloth was cupped over his mouth. Mark struggled against the assailant; grabbing at the arm pinning his neck to the wall. He finally reached out to grab the unlit lantern on the dresser, blindly swinging it around until it collided with his attacker's back.

The man howled in pain as Mark slipped from his grasp, the young man's fingers struggling to find the door handle as a hand grabbed his ankle and pulled him back. Mark landed on the floor with a thud. He felt the man's weight drop on top of him and struggled to get out from underneath the heavy frame, preparing to call out just as a hand clasped over his mouth again. Back and forth, Mark tried rotating his body to maneuver a way out of the man's hold, quickly realizing that it was only a waste of rapidly expiring energy. He panicked, suddenly understanding what was happening.

"Mark are you alright?" Lou's voice called, followed by a knock on the door. "Mark?"

He closed his hand to make a fist and desperately began pounding on the wall. Mark felt the weight on top of him unexpectedly disappear, a sharp pain suddenly shooting through his head as a small object struck his skull.

Hearing a cry of pain, Lou threw open the hotel room door to see one figure disappearing out a window and the other on the floor, moaning.

"Mark!" She dropped to her knees, attempting to pull him into the light coming from the hall. "Mark!"

"Miss Mallory?"

Lou looked up to see one of the night clerks standing in the doorway. "Get Doc Burrage!"

"N-No," Mark stammered, struggling to his knees. "I'm… I'm fine…"

"No you're not; you're bleeding!"

"I'll be… be fine… get… just get Micah…"

"The doctor first," Lou ordered. "Then the marshal."

As the clerk hurried away, Lou helped Mark to his feet before guiding him to sit down on the bed. Noticing the broken glass on the floor, she crossed the room for the second lantern and lit it.

"Oh, Mark, what happened?"

"I… I don't really know…" Mark winced in pain as he touched his head, then looked down to see the blood on his hand. "It… it was all so fast…"

Lou stepped to the washstand and poured water into the basin, wetting a rag before sitting down beside Mark and tending to his head. "Did you see who it was?"

"No… I… I didn't think to get a good look at him."

A few minutes later, Micah and Doc Burrage appeared in the doorway, taken aback by what they saw. As the doctor took Lou's place at Mark's side and began looking the boy over, Micah asked what had happened.

"...I… I stepped inside and… someone grabbed me. They put me up against the wall and… and I hit them with the lamp… but they had me on the ground before I could get away. ...Lou started knocking on the door. Whoever it was… they must've gotten startled. They hit me with something and then…" Mark looked around, not sure what had happened after that.

"I didn't get a good look, but I saw someone go out the window," Lou informed them.

"You're lucky you weren't knocked unconscious," Doc said. "You took quite a blow."

"You're telling me…"

"Mark, there's not anything worth stealing in here, is there?" Micah inquired.

"...I don't think this was a robbery."

"What makes you say that?"

Mark pointed to the ground where a damp cloth lay. "Chloroform… I'll never forget the smell of it."

After he finished securing the bandage on Mark's head, Doc Burrage reached down to pick up the handkerchief and brought it to his nose. "...Boy's right. There's no question that's chloroform."

Micah took the cloth from the doctor, examining it before looking back up at Mark in concern. "...Do you have any idea what this could be about?"

"No… unless… you don't think Pa got himself in some sort of trouble, do you?"

"I'm sure your father is just fine. ...Doc, how's his head?"

"Like I said, it's quite a blow, but it'll heal. Just take it easy for the next few days, Mark. No riding, chopping wood, anything like that."

"...No chance I can get out of school, is there?" he mischievously asked.

"Sorry, you're not quite that bad. I'm sure you have a headache?" Mark nodded. "If that gets any worse or doesn't go away in the next few days, I want you to come see me."

"Yes sir."

"Mark, why don't I get the key to the next room?" Lou offered. "I'm sure you don't want to stay in here tonight."

Before the boy could answer, Micah stepped forward. "That won't be necessary. Mark, I think you better stay with me tonight."

Part of Mark felt like he should protest, but his pride was quickly overridden by the thought of his attacker coming back. "...Thanks, Micah."

As soon as Mark felt stable enough, he and Micah walked to the marshal's small residence. Micah quickly set up a cot for the young man, giving him some time before finally asking, "You alright?"

Mark shrugged. "...I just wish I knew who it was… and why. ...What would anyone want with me?"

"...I don't know," he sighed. "But I'll do everything I can to find out."

"...We are going to tell my pa, right?"

Micah hesitated before answering. "...I reckon we better. I'll wire him first thing in the morning to let him know what happened. ...I know you already have orders from your pa not to leave town, but I don't want you going anywhere without telling me. As soon as school lets out tomorrow, you go straight to my office, understand?"

Mark nodded. "...What do you think the chances are that they'll try again?"

"...The fact that Lou spooked them and they ran away is a good sign."

"But?"

"...Just stay close. It never hurt anyone to be a little extra careful."

It had been a long night for Lucas. He had been plagued with dreams of what Jackson had done to Mark… what he had done to Margaret… what the man had done to him. He began to wonder if Micah was right. What if he couldn't handle confronting Jackson… what if he lost control?

Sitting up on the edge of the bed, the tall rancher shook his head as he let out a heavy sigh. He had to do this. He had to do it for Mark… he had to do it for his own sanity's sake.

Lucas got up and wasted no time in leaving the hotel. He stopped at the marshal's office for directions, then rented a horse and headed northwest out of town. In time, the massive establishment came into view. The rancher was taken aback by the extensive brickwork and just how high the pinnacle of the roof reached. He looked around the well-kept grounds to see gardeners and other staff busying themselves with various tasks.

Not seeing any designated spot to hitch his horse, Lucas tied the reins around a tree near the door and made his way inside. Again, he was taken aback by the grandeur of the institute and found himself aimlessly wandering the lobby.

"Can I help you?"

He turned to see an older woman standing behind a large oak desk and walked towards her. "My name is Lucas McCain. I'm here to see Reef Jackson."

The woman's brow furrowed as she stared at the rancher. "...Just what is your business with the man, Mr. McCain?"

The words stuck in Lucas's throat as he attempted to answer. "...He… he tried to... kill my son."

The woman's expression swiftly turned from confusion to horror. She stared at Lucas for a few moments longer before finally finding her voice. "...Stay right here… don't go anywhere!"

Lucas watched as the woman disappeared down a hallway. He took a seat on a bench close to the desk, only a few moments passing before a man appeared at the end of the hall.

"Mr. McCain?"

Lucas stood and stepped forward. "That's me."

"Pembroke Thombs, superintendent." The man shook hands with Lucas before they started down the hallway. "...I understand Mr. Jackson attempted to murder your son?"

"Among other things," Lucas answered with a nod, controlled anger in his voice.

Mr. Thombs invited Lucas into his office and asked him to take a seat before doing the same. "...Mr. McCain, do you know why Mr. Jackson tried to do this?"

There was slight hesitation before Lucas answered. "...The reason he gave was that he wanted me to go after him."

"...So he could kill you?"

"So I would kill him." Seeing the confusion on the superintendent's face, he went on, "Mr. Thombs, there's a long history between Reef Jackson and myself. It's a very long, complicated story, and it doesn't make any more sense to me than it would to you. That's why I'm here… to try to make some sense of it all."

"...How old is your son? Did you bring him with you?"

"...I don't understand what any of this has to do-"

"Please, Mr. McCain, I'm trying to determine if your son is in any danger."

"Danger?" The word brought Lucas to his feet. "Why would he be in danger?"

"...I am sorry to inform you that three weeks ago, Mr. Jackson managed to escape while working on the…"

The man's voice faded into the background as Lucas ran from the office. He tore outside and jumped onto his horse, racing back to town. The rancher stormed into the telegraph office, startling the clerk.

"C-Can I help you?"

"I need to send a wire to Marshal Micah Torrence in North Fork, New Mexico!"

"...You wouldn't be Lucas McCain, would you?"

Lucas's heart began pounding even harder. "Why? Did something happen?!"

"...This message came in for you a while ago…"

Lucas took the telegraph from the man and opened it.

LUCAS McCAIN
PUEBLO, COLORADO

Mark attacked in hotel room
No major injuries
Assailant at large

MICAH TORRENCE
NORTH FORK, NEW MEXICO

Half an hour earlier, thunder had rolled across the New Mexico sky as Micah and Mark stepped out of the telegraph office.

"You best get to school; it looks like we might actually see some rain."

"Of course, it would be the one weekend I can't go fishing," Mark sighed.

"The fish will still be there next weekend. We'll make it up then. Now you get going before you're late."

"You better be careful, you're starting to sound like Pa."

"Insults will get you nowhere," Micah teasingly answered. "...Remember, straight to my office after school lets out. If I'm not there, stay in the hotel restaurant and lobby until I get back."

"I know. See you then."

Mark turned and started down the street. He soon heard the school bell ringing, arriving just as the first few drops of rain fell from the sky.

It didn't take long for the downpour to begin, Ms. Pritchard placing buckets under the various leaks in the roof as she had the students read aloud. Mark was following along in his reader when the schoolhouse door unexpectedly opened. He looked up with the rest of his classmates, swallowing hard as he recognized the man stepping inside.

"Can I help you?" Miss Pritchard asked as she took a few steps forward.

The man didn't answer. He scanned the rows of students, finally setting his gaze on the young man sinking into his chair.

"Come here, boy."

Mark couldn't move. His sweaty palms had latched onto the edge of his seat and refused to let go. His heart pounded as he stared back into Reef Jackson's wild eyes.

"Is there something I can-" Ms. Pritchard was interrupted by her own scream as the man suddenly pulled her towards him and shoved the barrel of his revolver into her temple.

"I SAID COME HERE!"

Mark jumped to his feet and followed the order, cautiously approaching the man. His classmates sat frozen in their seats, eyes wide with fear.

"Good… good…" In one swift motion, Jackson pushed the teacher away and grabbed Mark's arm, keeping his gun trained on Ms. Pritchard. "Over there by the desk," he ordered, gesturing with the revolver.

"...What do you want with us?"

"I said over there!"

Seeing Jackson pull back the hammer, Mark lunged forward in an attempt to wrestle the firearm away from him. Ms. Pritchard watched in horror as the man used the weapon to strike the student across the side of his head; the force of the blow driving him backwards into the wall.

"Leave him alone!" Ms. Pritchard charged the man, only to be thrown to the ground.

Quickly realizing the teacher wasn't getting up, Percy Bullock stood from his desk; the sound of gun fire stopping him in his tracks. He turned to see the man pointing the revolver at him while using his spare hand to haul Mark to his feet.

"You sit back down!"

Percy nervously followed the order, growing even more worried as he realized his friend was struggling to maintain consciousness.

"Now put your head down! All of you! On your desks! NOW!"

The children quickly followed the man's order, not daring to look up.

"Now keep your eyes closed until I tell you! I don't want to shoot nobody, so you just keep them shut!"

The next thing Percy heard was Mark moaning; his boots stumbling across the wooden floor as the man yelled at him to move. The door opened before the students were told one last time to keep their eyes closed. Percy waited, but he never heard the door shut. An eerie silence settled over the classroom as the young man tried to make sense of what had just taken place; attempting to determine how long he should wait before looking up. He knew it wouldn't make sense for the man to still be there. ...But what if he was?

"Ms. Pritchard?! Ms. Pritchard?! ...Percy!"

Without thinking, Percy looked up to see Clay Jensen kneeling beside their teacher. He sprang from his seat, frowning at the blood that ran down the side of Ms. Pritchard's head.

"...What are we to do?"

Clay grabbed Percy's arm and pulled him to his knees before handing him a handkerchief. "Hold this here, I'm going to get help!"

Clay ran from the schoolhouse, the pouring rain making it difficult to see more than a few feet in front of him. He finally reached the doctor's office and tore inside, gasping for breath.

"Clay Jensen, how many times do I have to tell you boys not to-"

"It's Ms. Pritchard!" he yelled. "A man came, he threw her to the ground and she won't wake up! She's bleeding!"

Doc stood and started collecting his bag and coat. "A man? What man?"

"I don't know! But she won't wake up and he took Mark!"

Doc Burrage suddenly stopped and turned to face the boy. "...He what?"

"He took Mark!"

"Clay, you go to the marshal's office and tell him exactly what you told me! Go!"

Clay turned around and ran from one office to the other, nearly breaking down the door as he entered.

"Clay, what in the-"

"Marshal Torrence, it's Mark!"

Micah stood from his map-covered desk and took two long strides towards the boy. "What happened?"

"A man came to the school and-"

"Micah!" Student and marshal turned to see Amos Blaine rushing inside the building. "Micah, read this!"

Micah took the telegram Amos offered; his heart dropping as he read the words written.

MICAH TORRENCE
NORTH FORK, NEW MEXICO

Jackson escaped
Don't let Mark out of your sight

LUCAS McCAIN
PUEBLO, COLORADO

"Clay, what happened to Mark?!" Micah demanded, turning towards the boy.

"A man came and he took him! He took Mark!"

"Did you see which way they went?"

"No, he made us all keep our heads down. But Mark was bleeding; the man hit him on the head and Mark could hardly stand up straight!"

"Amos, I'm going to the school to see if anyone saw anything. I want every available man here in ten minutes!"

By the time Micah had made it to the schoolhouse, he was soaked to the bone. He questioned the students and Ms. Pritchard, but no one had any idea where the man had gone. The marshal hurried back outside to see nothing but muddy roads already flooded with water.

Minutes turned to hours as the men of North Fork scoured the countryside. The rain let up by noon, but by then, it was too late. There was no trail for them to follow.

Afternoon slowly turned to evening, Micah's heart sinking deeper as the sun settled lower and lower behind the distant hills. He waited until all light was gone before finally turning around and heading back to North Fork.

A group of fifteen men sat waiting in Micah's office. As the marshal stepped inside, Nils was the first to ask when they were going out next.

"I want everyone here a half hour before sunrise. Bring what supplies you need… we may be gone a few days."