"What are you doing?"

Kristina Lansing jumped around with one hand pressed against her chest and the other dropping the hem of her skirt that she held at her side. She found herself turning beet red when she noticed the man that was standing in front of her, wide grin on his face.

"Lucky, I wasn't expecting anyone out...here," she bit her lip and tried not to turn ten shades redder after that comment.

"I see," he smiled as he folded his arms and leaned back against the door he just walked out of, "Is that why you're getting undressed in the alley?"

She gasped, "Why are you sneaking out of the saloon this early in the morning?"

Lucky laughed as he pushed himself off of the door and walked towards the horse that she had tied up to a pole behind The Devil's Gate saloon, "You're not getting out of this that easily."

Realizing that she was already embarrassed and he would probably pester her until she gave in, because that was what they did with each other, she looked down at her wrinkled skirt and dusty boots.

"My mother refused to let me out of the house in pants," she said quietly, "And I wanted to go for a ride," she smiled sadly, "You can't imagine how difficult it is to ride the desert in a side saddle Lucky. I just wanted to go out and enjoy myself, be away from Mama and Papa for a while, and the store."

Lucky's grin slipped from his face as he looked at the auburn haired woman that stood a few feet from him. Not many people were as well off as his family was. In fact, most people who were daring enough to venture out west soon lost all the money they had and were reduced to squandering and begging for jobs.

In his quest to seek his own independence he never realized the true labor of working day to day, trying to earn enough money to be able to put food on your table. He took for granted that yes, he was searching for a place to build his own homestead, but if he never found it there was always someplace else to go back to.

Kristina's family were one of the ones that were trying to eek out a living, trying their best to make payments on their home, to make sure all the chores were done before bed and that the Mercantile was opened early enough for the widow Mrs. Baker to come and get the supplies that she needed.

He couldn't blame the young woman in front of him for wanting to get away from it in and in a pair of boys trousers at that. He scuffed his boots against the dusty ground, letting her know he was moving, and presented her with his back, watching out for anyone that may come upon them and giving her the privacy to slip off her skirt.

"Thank you Lucky," she said as she undid her skirt as quickly as she could. She let the wool material pool at her feet and she then picked it up and folded it over enough so she would be able to stuff it in her saddle bags.

"For what?" he asked, turning slightly when he heard her approach.

"For not making fun of me," she smiled softly, "I'm surprised to see you here, coming out the back way anyway. You never were the kind of man to hide your promiscuity."

Lucky watched her tuck a strand of dark red hair behind her ear as she moved around him and stuffed the skirt in her saddle bags. She then bent down and checked the straps on her saddle, making sure that her dainty feet wouldn't fall out of the stirrups.

Those young men's trousers protested at the movement and clung to her backside like a second skin. They also revealed very supple thighs and shapely calves, trailing down to what he was sure were delicate ankles hidden inside of those boots.

Somewhere along the line his sister's best friend had grown up.

He shook those thoughts out of his head and returned back to her statement, "I'm not so much hiding from where I was last night as I am from…"

"You parents," she smiled as she popped up right in front of him, "Lesley Lu was disappointed that you weren't here when she arrived back in town last week but she also hated all the fuss that was thrown for her."

Lucky rolled his eyes, "Lu loved it. She enjoys that stuff, always has since she's been back east."

"She also enjoys her brother," Kristina said quietly, "Enjoys spending time with him whether or not he's going back east with her or staying here to live out his real dream."

Lucky sighed as he turned around; looking down the long alleyway, one that would lead him to his home if he walked it long enough. He then turned back towards Kristina who was swinging herself onto the horse with ease.

"I'm going for a ride cowboy," she said with a small smile, "You want to join me?"

He weighed the idea in his head. If he went out this early he'd be able to search some lands without any other encroachers lurking about. But then again if anyone spotted him spending too much time with Kristina Lansing they might get ideas in their heads and that was the last thing he needed right now.

"I'll race you to the large barren tree two miles out of town," she challenged, "I'll start off in a canter to give you time to get to your horse."

Lucky shrugged, "I'm not really sure that…"

She laughed, throwing her head back and he watched her, as wavy red curls tumbled down her back, her brown eyes sparkling, "Afraid to be beaten by a girl, Spencer?"

Lucky's blue eyes narrowed, "You're on."

"We haven't heard anything," Emily said as she watched Lorenzo hitch the horses in front of the Lansing Mercantile, "Alexis said that she would let us know when they arrived in town. Do you think everything is okay?"

"I think that you are worrying too much," Lorenzo said and leaned down to place a soft kiss on his wife's lips, a rare public display of affection. She blushed quite becomingly and pressed her head against his chest, "We're going to stay here in town until they arrive and we'll make sure that we are the first patients they see, baring any missing limbs or sick children."

"You are my strength," Emily said quietly gazing up at her husband, "I don't know what I would do without you, Lorenzo."

"I feel the same way," Lorenzo said quietly as he reached down and took her hand, "Come on, let's go see Ric and Alexis."

Emily nodded and let Lorenzo lead her into the shop, gasping slightly when she saw that the store was busy with customers and Alexis was the only one standing behind the counter, looking exhausted and ready to lose her patience.

The Alcazar's quickly made their way to the haggard woman's side.

"Kristina ran off this morning," Alexis said, "She told me that she was going to stay in town, stay within ear shot and the store is bursting. Ric is across the way picking up the things that arrived with the wagon last week. We've been so busy he hasn't had a chance to go sooner and I just…I don't know what to do."

"It's okay," Emily smiled, "We'll be happy to help."

"I'll go over to check on Ric and see if he needs any help transporting things to the store," Lorenzo said, "I'll let him know how busy it is and we can always go back later to pick it up."

"Thank you," Alexis sighed gratefully, "Thank you so much."

"It's fine, it's no problem," Emily smiled, "Hello Laura, what can I help you with?"

"It's a pretty busy day," Laura smiled as she approached the counter, "I just need a few things for Lesley Lu's party that is coming up next week and I was hoping that I could purchase them here," she smiled at Alexis, "I can come back at a better time."

"No, no," Alexis said, "I just have to wait on a few more people and then I should have a free minute. If you'd like, Emily can help you?"

"I think that's a wonderful idea," Laura said as she held out her arm for Emily, "Lesley Lu insists that I'm not aware of what the young people like and you would be perfect to help me. Apparently white doilies aren't used for tea anymore, they have to be crème."

Emily laughed softly, "Oh that sounds so much like Lesley Lu," she smiled as she steered Laura down an aisle, "I'm sure you are glad to have her back."

"I am," Laura said and then frowned, stopping and facing Emily, "And I'm a little frightened."

"Frightened?" Emily asked puzzled, "Why? Is Lu okay?"

"She's fine," Laura said, her voice cracking, but she forced a smile and blinked away her tears, "I received a letter with the post last week and Jeffrey said that they weren't very far off, that he expected to be here by the time Lesley Lu arrived home. I haven't received anything else and I know that they've been avoiding established towns but I just…" she looked away from the young woman that was standing in front of her and was startled when Emily pulled her into her arms and hugged her tightly.

"It's going to be okay, Laura," Emily said quietly, "I'm sure they're going to be okay. Lorenzo is one to say don't ever fret over something you have no control over. I'm sure that Jeff and Mary had a slight delay. They are traveling with two young women right?"

"Right," Laura smiled as she pulled back and pulled out a handkerchief from her skirt pocket, "Oh listen to me, I'm sure they are fine and that they'll be here any day now, maybe even by sun down tonight. Thank you Emily, thank you for listening. Now, I need your expertise in picking out some lacy napkins for Lesley Lu's party."

Emily slipped her arm once again through Laura's and followed the woman around the store as she picked this and that out. She couldn't help the dread that was building in her gut. If Laura was also worried than something truly was wrong and if something happened to the Webber's Laura would loose the only remaining family that she had and Emily would lose the last chance she had of having a baby.

Samantha McCall watched from the doorway of her room as Rachel Adair tried once more to rouse Sonny from the other side of the door. She had been there all morning and into the early afternoon trying to get some sign of life from the owner but nothing was forthcoming.

Frustrated Rachel stomped back to her room in her boots and slammed the door behind her, cursing that the man could starve if he wanted to. As much as the man confused her, Sam certainly didn't want him to starve and if there was something wrong with him she wanted to help.

Gathering her courage she tightened her robe around her and quietly made her way down the hall in her bare feet, stopping at the room closest to the stairway, knocking hard with her hand. She heard a muffled moan from Courtney on the other end and then the shuffling of feet before the door was opened and Michael Corinthos stood before her, shirtless and in a pair of trousers that were left hanging open.

"Morning…" he said giving her a boyish grin, "Afternoon Sam. What can I help you with?"

Sam blushed and she hated that after all this time, six months and counting, in a saloon she still had the ability to do that. Of course no one would blame her. The Corinthos' men did have a reputation of being charming when they wanted to be.

"I didn't mean to disturb you," she said quietly as she pointed down towards the other end of the hall, "But a few people have been trying to get your father's attention all morning and he doesn't seem to be responding to anyone. I wanted to help and I thought that I should let you know."

Michael's boyish grin disappeared replaced with a grim face and a haunted look in his eye. He stepped further into the hallway, closing the door behind him and crossed his arms across his chest, leaning his hip into the doorframe.

"It's the anniversary of my mother's murder," he said quietly with a note of steel in his voice, "My father doesn't like to be bothered on days like this. Days when he's forced to remember what he can't forget," he waved his head in the direction of Rachel's room, "My mother was a blond so my Dad steers clear of them for a while around this time of year," he shrugged, "This is his way of dealing, I have my own."

"I'm so sorry, Michael," she said quietly as she pressed her hand against his arm, "I shouldn't have intruded."

"I'm glad you did," Michael said with a hint of a smile, "I'm glad someone cares enough to ask." He sighed as he reached up and ran his hands through his curly blond hair, "If there's anyone my Dad will talk to, it'll be you, you might as well try it. I know he won't eat all day and he's probably already been through a bottle of bourbon."

"Me?" Sam asked, "Why would he listen to me?"

"You're the total opposite of what he lost," he frowned and shook his head when he saw the hurt in Sam's eyes, "You're tiny, you've got dark hair, dark eyes. You've got this innocence about you that my father said he took from my mother. You're a Southern Belle. If someone were to ask me if there was anyone that could save my Dad I'd have to tell them it'd be you."

"No," Sam said shaking her head, "That can't be true."

"Michael?" they heard from the other side of the door.

"I still have a few more hours before I've got any place to be," Michael said smiling down at her, "This is my way of dealing with it."

Sam nodded and watched as he slipped back into Courtney's room and heard a squeal of laughter coming from the other side of the door. She knew everyone dealt with their grief differently. Her mother took her own life, Sam fought for what she wanted and soldiers that she knew took her body, as Michael was taking Courtney's, and sought comfort she couldn't offer.

But maybe today she could offer that to Sonny.

Clenching her trembling fingers into tiny fists she made her way down the hall, towards the very end, where a set of double doors were located and a plate of cold food was left on the floor. She took a deep breath and heard the faint opening of doors around her.

She was going to do this with an audience.

"Sonny," she called softly as she knocked on the door, "Its Sam."

Nothing, not a sound from the other end.

"I know that you don't want any company right now," she said quietly as she pressed her cheek against the door, brought her lips closer to the edge of it, "And I know that you don't want to pour your heart out and tell anyone what's wrong because that's your business but…but I want you to know that I'm here. I'm just…I'm here."

She stepped back, pressing her palm against the door and waited. After a minute there was still nothing so she decided to give up. Michael was wrong, she wasn't his father's savior and she was no longer innocent.

Turning away Sam took a step before she heard the click of the lock behind her. She turned back and saw the door open halfway and Sonny stood there in a pair of black pants and nothing else. He looked exhausted, like he hadn't slept all night and there was indeed a bottle of bourbon in his hand.

He motioned with his head that she was allowed to enter and Sam could do nothing but.

Jason Morgan took another long drink from the lukewarm coffee that was in his hand. He had been up since the crack of dawn, a terrible habit that he picked up while traveling, and found it useless to be lying around in bed all day doing nothing and waiting for Sonny to come out of his room.

With all the noise that the blond girl was making and nothing coming out from the other end he wasn't even sure if he was going to see Sonny today, let alone get a chance to sit down and discuss some things with him.

His arrival a week ago had taken the Mexican by surprise. Jason had waited in Sonny's office and prayed that when the man returned to close up for the evening he would do it alone. When he did finally speak with his old friend they discussed the possibility of Jason staying there and no one being the wiser.

That's what he had done for the past seven days and now he was going out of his mind.

He never liked stopping in one place for a long period of time. He always liked to be moving, always liked to be earning money, be it on either side of the law, and he always liked the places that were furthest away from Charlesville, Arizona. Home was not a happy place and the less he saw of his family the better.

Hiring out your gun meant that you were rarely in one place twice and Jason was never able to give out a post where any of his family members could write him. Granted there were few that might actually want to; Lila, his paternal grandmother, being one of them and his younger sister Emily being the other. He had cut all other ties with his remaining family members, his grandfather and both his parents, wanting nothing to do with the people who simply wanted him to follow in their footsteps.

Jason Quartermaine was never going to be a doctor so Jason Morgan he became.

He remembered his mother's reaction when he was first hired out by a local rancher to take care of some vaqueros that were rustling some of his cattle. She swore that she would be shunned from the society and his father said that he didn't think he would have anymore patients. Edward, his grandfather, said that his banking business was ruined and Emily cried, wanting to know why the family now hated her only brother so much.

Jason laughed, laughed his way out of that household and out of their lives.

It was hardest leaving his grandmother and his sister, the two people who loved him no matter what he chose to do with his life. But he couldn't look back; he wasn't able to, not when he spent the first twenty three years of his life trying to be something that he wasn't. He packed his bags, took his brand new stallion his parents just had shipped in from back east for his birthday and rode off. He sold that damn horse the first chance he got and bought one that was more broken in.

Here he was five years later, now known as the fastest gunfighter in the west, carrying a reputation that brought fear to rustlers and worship from boys who wanted to be just like him. Hell, Sonny's young son was already asking him for lessons on his quick draw.

Sometimes Jason wished that he hadn't been born with the quick draw, because of it, one too many young guns were buried too soon, their mothers crying out to him that he was nothing but a murderer who should be put behind prison.

Jason was in prison, he was locked inside himself, and he hoped that whatever the reason he felt compelled to come back home would help him discover why after all these years he was still wandering, trying to figure out what the hell to do with his life.

"This seat taken?"

Jason looked up from his coffee and saw a man standing in front of him dressed in a pair of dark denims and a flannel shirt, not much different from Jason's own attire. Jason kicked a chair out with his boot and motioned with a nod of his head to have a seat.

He then had a second thought, "That blond that's been hanging all over you ain't gonna be joining us is she?"

Johnny laughed as he turned the chair around and straddled it, placing his own cup of coffee down on the table in front of him, "Rachel, no, she's sulking because Sonny wouldn't open the door for her. I'm Johnny O'Brien," he said holding his hand out for Jason, "Old friend of Sonny's."

"Jason Morgan," Jason said, feeling a little more at ease with the man's firm handshake. He then chuckled humorlessly when the recognition came into the man's face, "Yes, that Jason Morgan."

"I just wasn't aware that Sonny knew you," Johnny shrugged as he leaned his elbows on the table, "Then again Sonny and I aren't the kind of people that talk about who we know or don't know. We just get the job done."

"My kind of people," Jason nodded as he looked around the empty saloon, "I'm surprised he doesn't open this place for food. Fair's pretty decent here."

Johnny laughed quietly as he took another sip of his coffee, "Sonny came out west for one reason and that was to escape his demons. Instead he just built a place to house them."

Jason laughed, "Sounds like the man I met. You new around here?"

"Just got in about the night before you did," Johnny said, "I'm looking for work; I'm trying to get my face out there. I can understand why you wouldn't want to and I think that it's a good idea you're laying low from the girls around here. Some of them ain't too quick in the head and will open their mouths before they realize what they're doing."

"That," Jason said, "And I don't play where I lay. Doves have a tendency to get too attached that way and I wouldn't want myself waking up to something wrapped around me."

Johnny laughed, "Understandable. Rachel is clinging. She's trying to make Corinthos jealous but she doesn't seem to realize that he has no intention of settling down with anyone, let alone a whore."

Jason motioned with his head towards the upper floor of the saloon, "He alright?"

"It's the anniversary."

"I was here the first year he came to Charlesville," Jason said, "It wasn't pretty."

"Never is," Johnny said as he finished his coffee and stood back up, "Nice to finally meet ya but like I said, I'm trying to get the word out that I'm available for hire. Sonny sent me to speak with someone last week but I've been a little preoccupied since then. Think I'm going to head out there now."

"Who are you looking into?" Jason asked as he thumbed his hat up on his head.

"Alcazar," Johnny said, "Apparently he and his wife Emily have a nice spread a few miles from town."

"Emily?" Jason asked with raised eyebrows, "Emily Alcazar?"

"Yeah, Sonny was telling me they married three years back, settled out of town, right before her family picked up and moved out of here," Johnny shrugged, "Maine something. I don't know. Heard they were nice folks."

"Quartermaine," Jason said with a smirk, "Emily Quartermaine."

"Yeah, that's it," Johnny smiled, "You friendly with them too?"

"You could say that," Jason said and settled back in the wooden chair.

He had disappeared for five years and his baby sister had up and married, to a cattle man no less! Oh Jason Morgan would've paid good money to see the look on Edward Quartermaine's face when he heard the news. He laughed as he drained the rest of his now cold coffee.

"That wasn't fair, Lucky!" Kristina shouted at the laughing man while her horse came to a jittery stop beside his, "I was fixing the strap on my saddle. You took advantage of that."

"And you didn't wait until I got my horse from outside of the saloon," Lucky smirked, "We'll call it even."

"Oh no," she laughed as she looked around her, her eyes searching for another spot where she could race the cocky cowboy beside her, "There, that rock crop, right there, the brownish one. It's about a mile out, that'll do."

Lucky frowned as he followed Kristina's line of vision. The rock crop didn't look like any he had ever seen. In fact it looked like broken pieces of a wagon jutting up in the air and bending in a million different ways. His eyes scanned the rest of the area and then he saw the black birds flying overhead.

Vultures.

"Kristina, wait," he cried out but she was gone, laughing and racing ahead of him, patting her horse beneath her and yelling words of encouragement into its ear.

He wheeled his horse around and kicked it hard in the side with the heel of his boot. It was no use; he wouldn't be able to catch up with her in time, to prevent her from seeing the sight that obviously lay ahead. A wagon had been attacked and the vultures were circling the remains.

"Kristina!" he called.

She wouldn't listen, didn't even turn, and just shouted that she was going to beat him. Her horse skidded to a stop at the wagon; her eyes grew wide as she tried to grip the saddle horn. The animal came up on two legs, neighing at the sight before it, at the birds that were starting to go after it. She cried out and fell off the side of the horse, his hooves barely missing her as it pounded away from carnage around her.

Her head ached as she shook the cobwebs from it and she could barely make out Lucky's voice in the background telling her he was coming and to keep her eyes closed. She regretted that she didn't listen to him.

Kristina woke up beside a young woman's body, scalp missing from her head, pieces of skin being pecked away by the leeching birds around her. She screamed, she scrambled away and as Lucky was running towards her she turned around and retched.

Elizabeth moaned as she struggled to open her eyes, struggled to tell her mother just ten more minutes of sleep would not delay their arrival to Charlesville, Arizona. It was when the annoying shaking didn't stop that she blinked and was met with that awe stopping sight of an Indian village, one that seemed to stretch for miles upon miles.

It was then that she realized where she was.

She started to struggle in the arms of her captor but he quieted her with soothing words in his native tongue and she calmed down, grasping onto the horses main as they rode down the side of the cliff into the awaiting arms of hundreds of other Indians.

She tried to tell herself that this Indian, the one who called himself White Bear, was her savoir. That he did not assault her or wound her or demand things from her that she could not give. He didn't make her cook over the last few days of travel and although she couldn't understand their language, she knew that he had gotten into many arguments with his friends over her.

It was because of him she was still alive even though she wasn't free.

She watched as the men and women around her came out to stare, to gawk, at the bruised and battered white woman that rode with one of them. Some reached out to touch her, some to poke at her with sticks, but White Bear kept riding through the village, towards his Tipi were he stopped the horse and climbed down, bringing her with him.

He pulled the flap open on the large cream colored canvas and Elizabeth was surprised at how roomy it was when she entered. She immediately turned to him when the sunlight faded, when the flap was closed behind them. She stumbled back, not realizing how close his large frame was, but he kept coming towards her and she felt the panic fill her once again.

Was he simply waiting until they no longer had an audience?

"What do you want from me?" she asked in a trembling voice, "I have done nothing to you. Please, don't hurt me. Please."

She wanted to be strong, she never wanted to beg but somewhere along the plains of Arizona she felt as if she had lost her fiery spirit and she began to wonder if living was such a wonderful thing after all.

"Hush, little one," he said quietly as he reached out and fingered her chestnut locks, "No harm will come of you. This, I promise."

That clear English again, the same way he spoke to her the night he came to her rescue.

"Why?" she whispered as she watched his hand fall to his side, "Why won't you harm me like all your other friends?"

"Because," he said as he gazed at her, "You have my mother's eyes."