It was a long night for Lucas as his son frequently called out in his sleep. He would rouse Mark and assure him that everything was alright, holding the child until he drifted asleep once more. When Lucas woke the next morning, he found Mark nestled in his arms, the child's innocent face staring up at him.

"…Mark? Is something wrong?"

The boy shook his head as he shifted his gaze downward. "I… I thought…" Mark again burst into tears as he buried his head into his fathers chest. "I… I was s-scared I'd… I'd wake up-p and… and wouldn't be… be here. P-Pa… I… I don't want you t-to leave me…"

Frustrated that his son was still facing fears of abandonment, Lucas lifted Mark's chin, staring deep into the boy's eyes. "I told you that I am not going to leave you. I came back just like I said, didn't I?"

Mark nodded, uneasily biting his lip.

"And you trust me don't you?"

Again, he nodded.

"Then you don't need to worry. Remember what I said before I left? I will always come back for you, Mark. No matter what, you are the most important thing to me in the whole world and nothing will ever change that." Lucas again pulled his son into an embrace, allowing the child to cry the last of his tears.

In time, Lucas persuaded his son to get up, wash his face, and comb his hair before they again sat down on the bed. "I have to get our wagon from the stage stop this morning. You can stay here, or you can come with me."

The boy thought for several moments before looking up at his pa. "...I don't want to stay here without you."

"But?"

Again turning away, Mark went on, "...But I don't want to go back there."

Lucas let out a heavy sigh, reaching down and again lifting his son's chin. "Mark, you don't need to be afraid. If you stay here, I will be back in less than half an hour. If you go with me, nothing is going to happen."

"But… but that man…"

"Whoever it was that killed Mrs. Moore is long gone by now. You don't have anything to be afraid of."

"...Pa… why… why did he kill her? She… she didn't do anything…"

"...I don't know." The father hesitated before asking, "...Can you tell me what you remember?"

"I… I was doing my books… we were in the kitchen and I… I asked Mrs. Moore for help…"

As tears welled in the boy's eyes, Lucas put a hand on his shoulder. "It's alright… take your time."

"...Someone… someone was riding up and… and Mrs. Moore saw who it was and… and she got real scared. She told me to hide under the sink and to not come out. But… but they were arguin' and… and she started screaming and I started to look, but…" Mark buried his head into his father's chest. "Pa, he… he shot her!"

"Shh…"

"She wasn't moving… she… she just kept staring… I… I wanted to get help… but I couldn't. I… I was too scared!"

Lucas shook his head, tightening his arms around his boy. "There's nothing you could have done. It's alright, Mark." A few minutes passed before he went on. "...Do you remember what they were arguing about?"

"I… I think the man… I think he was looking for… for his son. But Mrs. Moore said he was dead. I… I don't think the man believed her."

"...If you saw this man again, would you recognize him?"

The boy quickly sat up, shaking his head. "No… no Pa! I don't want to see him again! Please!"

Lucas put a hand to his son's cheek, calming him. "What if you saw a picture? Could you tell the sheriff who he was?"

"I… I don't want to… please, Pa!"

"...This man killed our friend. I've talked to you about how important justice is… how it's important to make sure that when a law is broken, the person who did it is punished. ...Right now, you are the only one that can tell us who killed Mrs. Moore. You're the only one who can help make sure that man goes to prison and doesn't hurt anyone else. ...Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Mark slowly nodded. "...Will you be with me when I talk to the sheriff?"

"Of course. You don't have to do this alone, Son. I'll be with you every step of the way."

After breakfast with Mrs. Sharp and the children, Lucas and Mark made their way down to the jailhouse where they found the sheriff pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Top of the morning to you both. Mark, I'm glad to see you're feeling a little better. What brings the two of you my way?"

"Mark and I talked this morning about what happened at Mrs. Moore's."

"...Oh, I see. Why don't you both take a seat?"

The three sat around the desk, Mark moving his chair as close to Lucas as possible. At his father's encouragement, the boy repeated his story, describing the killer at the sheriff's request. After Mark had finished, Amos looked through several stacks of papers before putting three wanted posters in front of the child. "Do you see the man that killed Mrs. Moore here?"

The boy carefully looked the pictures over before uneasily looking up at his pa, then shaking his head no. The sheriff replaced the posters with three more, again asking if Mark recognized any of the men. Lucas watched as his son evaluated the posters, noticing a shift in his demeanor as he looked at the last sketch.

"That one," Mark answered, pointing at Paul Moore's wanted poster. "...He's the one that… that killed Mrs. Moore."

"...Thank you, Mark. ...Mr. McCain, I know you had plans to move on as soon as you returned, but with your son's identification of Moore… I'd like to ask that you at least stay in the surrounding counties. As soon as we catch Moore, we'll want to take this to trial."

Lucas nodded in understanding. "Do you know of anyone around here looking for help?"

"Not that I…" The sheriff quieted, looking the man over for a few moments. "...You just got back from riding shotgun, didn't you?"

"I did."

"...This isn't an offer, but have you ever worn a badge before?"

"I did some deputying back in Oklahoma."

"As it so happens, my deputy's been laid up for two weeks and can't return to duty for at least another six. If you can give me some references to check out, I might just be able to take you on for a few weeks. ...I'm assuming you have a six-gun you could wear?"

"Pa ain't never carried a six-gun," Mark suddenly declared. "And there ain't a better shot in the whole world than him!"

"Mark," the father chided.

The sheriff chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, Mr. McCain?"

"...The rifle has served me just fine since the war. We'd both be worse off if I carried a handgun."

"...Mind giving a demonstration?"

Lucas hesitated, but saw the pride glimmering in his son's eyes, replacing the fear that had been so deeply rooted in them once before. "Somewhere out of town we can go?"

"Follow me."

"Paul!"

"…Tess, what's the matter?"

"This!" The woman jumped down from her horse and shoved the poster in front of his face. "I told you not to kill her!"

The man slowly looked the poster over, his brow furrowing in confusion. "…Where'd you get this?"

"In town! There were at least a half-dozen plastered all over the place, and I couldn't get to them all!"

"Settle down."

"Settle down?! Paul, someone saw us!"

"There weren't no one within a half mile of that place. They're just guessing."

"Guessing or not, we gotta get you out of here!"

"It wouldn't be smart to move now; everyone'll be looking. We just wait here until things have settled down a little."

"Wait? Wait?! I'm not waiting to get hung because you couldn't control your temper!"

"You don't see your name on here, do you?"

"That doesn't matter! They find us together and-"

"Relax, Tess. …If you're that worried about it, why don't you make yourself of some use and find out what they really know."

"…What are you talking about?"

"Like I said, your name ain't on here. Why don't you ride back to Benton and find out what you can… make sure they're just shootin' in the dark."

"They don't put out wanted posters for no reason, Paul! Somebody saw something, and if they saw you, they saw me!"

"It'd say something about an accomplice if that were the case. Maybe we left something behind. Whatever their reasoning, I want you to find out what it is."

"I'm not going back there!"

"…Like you were saying, they find us together and… things sure aren't going to end up looking too pretty for you. They find me alone and get me talking… there's no telling what I might let slip. They might even come to find out how it was I got that gun in prison."

"You wouldn't dare."

The man laughed. "Wouldn't I?"

Shaking her head, the woman mounted up once more. "Stay put and don't get yourself into any trouble!"

"Yes ma'am."

"Oh, don't you start!"

Three hours later, the woman arrived in Benton. She looked up and down the street, assessing the few establishments before making her way to the mercantile.

"I'll be right with you," a voice called from the back room.

"No hurry!" Tessa turned and busied herself with the dresses on display, several minutes passing before a woman came from the back room.

"Can I help you with anything?"

"Oh, I'm just looking," she answered with a bashful smile, fiddling with the sleeve of a blue dress.

"Would you like to try it on?"

"Oh, no… I could never afford something like this…"

"All the more reason to have a little fun. It would look absolutely stunning on you."

"…I don't know…"

"Come now." The woman took Tessa's hand in her own as she pulled the dress from the rack. "There's no crime and enjoying yourself once in a while."

After being shown to a back room, Tessa put on the dress; the attendant returning a few moments later with a full-length mirror.

"Just as I said. Absolutely stunning!"

"It is a beautiful dress. It reminds me of one Hannah used to wear… she was so beautiful in it. …Such a shame what happened."

"Oh, you knew Mrs. Moore?"

The woman nodded. "We grew up together. …Is it true what they're saying? That the convict from Oklahoma killed her?"

"He wasn't just any old convict. They used to be married… he was little Peter's father."

"How can they be certain it was him?"

"There was a boy staying at the stage depot with Hannah… poor child saw the whole thing. To make matters worse, Sheriff Sharp is making him stay here until they catch the reprobate! If you ask me, the child needs to be taken somewhere safe. There's no telling what that man might do to him!"

Tessa thought for a few moments before again turning towards the woman. "…Perhaps I can help."

"Oh?"

"I live on a farm that isn't too far from here, but out of the way… a bit secluded. Perhaps the child could stay with me. After all… Hannah and I were like sisters."

"That's very generous of you, Miss. Though I don't know how the boy's father would feel about it."

"His father? I thought you said the boy had been staying with Hannah."

"Oh, he was. His father was away… working for the stage company or something of that sort. He's since returned and taken up a job as a deputy. If you ask me, I'm not too fond of the sheriff hiring strangers to help keep the peace."

"Leona?" a voice called from the front of the store.

"Speak of the devil… I'll be right back."

The woman walked out and greeted the sheriff, asking what brought him by.

"Just on my way home. Faye had asked me to stop in and see if you have her order of spices in."

"Not yet. Hopefully later this week. …Mr. McCain watching the town tonight?"

"Yes ma'am."

"…Sheriff, I just don't like it! We don't know a blessed thing about that man!"

"He's been in the army and did some deputying in Oklahoma. The drivers from the stage all put in a good word."

"I still don't like it!"

"Like it or not, we need him and that boy of his to stick around until we catch Moore. It's the only way we can get justice for Hannah."

"Well I certainly hope they find him soon! A man like that don't deserve to be alive!"

"They're looking. We'll find him, sooner or later. Have a good night, Leona."

As soon as the sheriff had left, the woman turned to see Tessa walking up beside her, the dress in her hands. "Thank you so much for allowing me to try it on… it was beautiful."

"Well, if you ever change your mind, you know where to go."

"Thank you. Have a good evening."

"You as well."