Elizabeth dug her hands into the sandy earth and managed to push herself up. She then stumbled back a few feet but stopped when she realized that the man in front of her, with the smoking gun strapped to his hip, was no longer coming towards her and his hand was still outstretched.

He wasn't advancing, he was letting her make the first move and that was more than any other man out here in the middle of nowhere did but still it didn't mean that he could be trusted. Her eyes fell down towards that gun again. This time his eyes followed hers.

"Is this making you nervous?" he asked as he pulled his hand back and motioned to the gun, "If I give this to you, will you listen to me, will you believe that I have no intention of hurting you?"

His light blue eyes met hers again and she felt her insides start to quake. He was staring at her so intently, begging her to trust him, but she was unable to. She couldn't. Too much had gone on in the past few weeks of her life and right now she wanted nothing more to do than climb back into that warm tipi that was miles away from her.

"Elizabeth, I know…"

"How do you know my name?" she somehow managed to choke out in a strangled whisper.

That was what terrified her the most. She had never seen this man before. She had never met him and somehow he knew by the look of her who she was and apparently what she was running from. She didn't like that this man had the upper hand and a loaded weapon.

He cleared his throat and looked away from her, "I know the Spencer's, I know your Aunt and Uncle, Laura and Luke. I know their kids too, Lesley Lu and Lucky."

Her eyes grew wide at the mention of her relatives, people that she barely knew but was very familiar with. She probably wouldn't be able to recognize her two cousins because they were very young the last time they saw one another. Still, she was leery, just because this man said that he knew her family didn't mean he was on good terms with them.

"I also…" she watched him as he tried to figure out how to form the next sentence, "I was one of the people who went out to recover…I found…"

She watched him struggle as he reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled something out. His icy blue eyes met hers again and she saw the torture that resided there. Obviously whatever he wanted to say to her he thought that he couldn't because she had gone through too much pain already. Elizabeth wanted to tell him that there was nothing he could say that could do any more damage than was already done. Then she saw what he was holding out to her.

Her trembling hands reached out and snatched the small portrait that was done back east before her family decided to homestead in the west. Elizabeth didn't really want it done but Sarah was thrilled and asked as for as many as she could have so that she would be able to pass them out to her suitors so the young men would never forget her.

She felt the tears pool in her eyes as she realized where this picture was. Her father had kept one of Sarah and one of Elizabeth for himself. He was going to display it on the new mantel he wanted have built in his western home. Until then it was tucked away in one of the boxes in the wagon they had bought. If this man had this, than that meant that he found her family and he didn't want to have to tell her that. He wasn't aware that even though she was protected from the words, the visions still reminded her of what she had lost.

"Who…who found them," she whispered as she curled the picture in her hands and brought it close to her heart. She felt her eyes flutter close as the tears started to silent slide down her cheeks, "Was there anything left?"

It broke Jason's heart to watch this woman in front of him. Her dress was torn, her body was bruised and her very soul was exposed as she relived the most horrifying day of her life. He would give anything to put this young woman away in a ranch house and make sure no one else bothered her again. From this day forth, he was going to make sure that whatever Elizabeth Webber wanted or needed she was going to get from him.

"I'd like to go back to my horse," he said, "I'd like to camp tonight but I understand if you don't want to use the previous area that dead bastard is lying in. I think that you need to get some rest, you need to get warm and it looks like you haven't…"

"I need to know about my family," she snapped and then she took another step back, afraid that her rising temper, something she thought was long buried with the old Elizabeth, would cause her more harm than good, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

"You can yell at me as often as you'd like," he said quietly, "If you really want to know, I will tell you about your family. I think that we should settle down somewhere. I think I should make some coffee. Standing in the middle of nowhere isn't a good place to be."

Eyeing that gun on his belt one more time, Elizabeth got the distinct feeling that this man had personal knowledge of things that were hidden in the dark. She wouldn't be surprised to find out if he was one of them.

"Would it make you more comfortable to hold my gun?" he asked as he took one step towards her and found that she didn't move back.

Elizabeth thought about it. It would make her feel safer. Then she thought about the man back at the camp site, with a bullet between his eyes and his pants undone. If anyone tried to attack her she wouldn't be able to defend herself and this man in front of her seemingly wanted that job. She however, still couldn't trust him.

"I'll go with you," she said as the tears clogged her throat, "But I can't…" she took a deep breath and looked away from those probing eyes, "I need to know about my family, I need to know that there somewhere that…I just ask that whatever you have planned for me please be merciful and bury the body where the vultures can't get it. The savages couldn't be bothered to do that."

Jason watched her as she took another step toward him and then another until there was only one tiny step that separated them. He then turned around and led the way back to where his horse was tied to a tree. He could hear the scraping of her moccasins behind him as well as her short gasps of breaths between tiny sobs.

He wanted to tell her that he planned her no harm. He wanted to tell her that all he was going to do was make sure she was safe as she made her way back to her family. He wanted to tell her that she could trust him, that he would hurt himself before he even touched her. He wanted to tell young Elizabeth Webber a lot of things but knew she wouldn't believe a word.

Emily looked up from her curled up position on the couch and saw it, the familiar black horse circling the house in the dark, hoof beats thundering against the ground. It was a soothing sound, one that wrapped around her heart and warmed her. It made her bury further into the couch and sigh with contentment as her eyelids fluttered close. Finally, for the first time in three days she would be able to get some sleep.

Lorenzo had left a few days ago to deal with some cattle business up north. He told her that he would return that evening if he could but it turned out to be impossible. She knew that he would get home to her as soon as he was able but an hour after he left wasn't fast enough for her. She needed him, more now than she ever did, and she hated that she had to let him go from her side. This afternoon's visitors helped her perk up somewhat and she was able to get back into the kitchen and cook but once Johnny and Lucky bedded down for the evening she was thrust back into her world of loneliness and praying for the safe return of her husband and her brother.

Hearing the thud of boots on the front porch, Emily swung her feet off of the couch and allowed them to hit the cold wood floor. The door was opened, then closed and she could hear him stripping off his jacket and gloves in the doorway. He came around the corner and she could barely make out his face in the dancing orange light. He looked haggard and he hadn't shaved in a few days. He actually looked like he rode his horse into the ground just to get home tonight. She smiled as she climbed off of the couch and met him in the middle of the room, her arms thrown around his neck.

Of course he had ridden all night, this was her husband, that was what he would do.

He stepped back and pulled his hat off, tossing it on a chair behind him, "You look exhausted. I told you not to wait up for me, Em."

She looked away from him, down at his work roughened hands, "I have a hard time sleeping without you, you know that Lorenzo."

He sighed as he pulled her back into his arms and kissed her hair, "I do Em but I couldn't help it and I tried to get home as early as I could," he chuckled softly, "I can assure you that I tossed and turned a few nights."

That was an understatement. He barely had a wink of sleep and the cowboys he was around knew enough to know not to bother him until he had his third cup of coffee. By that time he was able to think with a clear head and deal with the business at hand. He was the man he was suppose to be during the day, tough, dependable, but at night, when he tried to close his eyes and all he saw was visions of his wife. It made counting sheep hopeless.

"Come on, you need to get to bed," Lorenzo said as he ran his thumb under her eye, "I don't like the dark smudges that I see here."

"I can't go, not yet," she said as she pulled him back towards the couch, "I need to see you, spend sometime with you. If you need to close your eyes Lorenzo that's okay but I just want to be able to know that you're here and…"

He took her hands and brought them to his lips, "How much coffee have you had this evening?"

Emily smiled softly, "Lucky arrived from town today along with a friend of Sonny Corinthos'. He said that his name was Johnny O'Brien and Sonny recommended him for a job. I made them some dinner and invited them to stay the evening because I knew it would be a waste of time to ride all the way back to town when you were due home any day. They agreed but only if they stayed in the bunkhouse. I missed entertaining," she pulled his hands into her lap; "I missed you."

"I wish you wouldn't worry so much," Lorenzo said quietly, "I know that your thoughts have been on me and Jason these last few days and I wish that I could convince you that Jason is okay. He's your brother Emily. He's a survivor, just like you, and if something did happen you would be the first to know," he leaned over and gave her a soft kiss, "He left you before, for quite a few years, and he came back in one piece. Can't you trust him to do that again?"

Emily fought back the tears that appeared in her eyes, "Jason left on his own terms last time. He's going after a group of Indians now and he's doing it on his own because he's…well because he's being Jason," she groaned as she hit a pillow, "And what makes me even more mad is that these crazy heathens are roaming around our territory and you decide you have to take care of business. You have no idea how worried I have been thinking that you were…"

He kissed her again, cutting off the rest of her sentence, "I told you I was going to be fine. I told you not to worry about me but that's you Em, you worry and I love you for it because there was a long time in my life where no one gave a damn. I'm so grateful that you walked into my life that day. I'm so grateful you heard me out and gave me the chance."

"Your grateful I made you into the man you are today," she smiled as she pulled her feet up from the floor and curled into his lap, "I'm grateful too Lorenzo that you love me even though I can't…"

He cut her off again with another kiss, "I love you."

She beamed up at him, "I love you. Are you hungry?"

He grinned as he wrapped his arm around her waist and laid her back on the couch, "I'm starved but it's not for your biscuits."

Samantha McCall blinked her eyes as she stared at the large burnt home in front of her. She had no idea how she got back here but she was home, standing in the dried brown grass that use to be a lush green. Her peach tree was still standing tall and proud in her backyard but everything else was so different. There was no one in the fields, her father and brother weren't barking out orders and the familiar scent of pie was not coming from the kitchen. She was all alone and hollowness that had filled her so long ago was back again.

She never wanted to come back here. She knew that one day she should but she always fought against it. Here was the place that she lost her innocence, here was the place where she lost her lifestyle, here was the place where her mother's blood soaked into the soil. This was the place where Sam lost everything.

Picking up the hem of her once beautiful dress she made her way towards her home. She had come to bury it, the outer shell, the peach tree and the memories that haunted her daily. She needed to face all that had happened here and she needed to let go. She knew that she would never be able to move on with her life if she allowed these demons to chase her.

Pushing open what was left of the door she made her way in. Her kitten boots, which were of no use on her family's homestead, clicked against the creaky wood floors. There was very little water damage, as if no one made an attempt to save her home, and all of her mother's décor was broken into pieces; the furniture, the little fancy figurines and the pictures of her and her brother. The place looked like it had been ransacked and like her, the house was nothing more than a shell.

Placing a hand on her quivering stomach, Sam took one last look around her childhood home. It was gone, everything, the house, the family, the people who helped raised her, all of it was destroyed for a war that might never had started if both sides each had some patience. She took a deep breath and turned towards the kitchen, stopping short when she heard another squeak from the floorboard. This time it wasn't the floorboard that she was walking on.

Listening intently Sam heard it, the laughter of men floating in from the kitchen. Her eyes widened as their shadows came into view; men in blue uniforms, plates of heaping food in their hands. She wanted to turn and run, run straight back to Charlesville and never return but it was too late, they spotted her and now she would have to pay.

Sam tried to run but they caught up with her too easily, both of them passing her back and forth between the two of them. Their eyes looked hauntingly familiar as they dragged her out of her house and back towards that peach tree that she loved so much, the tree that was far enough away from any type of help.

"We were told to burn everything," one of them sneered, "But we wanted to save this place when we saw that someone was still living in it. We checked the cupboards and noticed that you're on your last bit of food little lady. Looks like you need some help from us blue coats."

"Please," she cried as they released her, "Please just don't…please, I don't want to die."

She didn't want to beg either but she swore to herself the day that she found her mother dying on the ground that she would never give up. Samantha McCall was going to make it out of this alive. She was never going to give up. She did make it out of it alive and she had no idea what would possess her to return here.

"Give it up," the other one sneered pulling her attention back to the men in front of her, "We're just asking for a little bit of pleasure and we'll give you whatever you need, food, water, some money," he laughed, "We'll even let you live."

"Course we could easily take you," the first one said before he spat onto the ground, "But we like it when girls are willing, it makes things much nicer."

A whore, they wanted her to be their whore. She never wanted to stoop to that level. She wanted to survive on her own but with the recent fires her vegetables were no longer coming up and there was no food left in the house. She had plenty of money but the confederate bills were no longer honored and the last time she was in the store begging for food one of their fellow blue coats threw her out on the street. No, Sam never wanted to be a whore, but what choice did she have.

"I'm hungry," she whispered as she felt the tears hit her eyes, "I can't remember the last time I had any water."

"We'll make sure you're taken care of," the first one grinned as he stepped towards her with his hands on his pants, "We'll be nice and sweet."

Sam didn't even blink as she felt her body being lowered down to the ground by the peach tree. She felt as if she had disengaged herself as the man started to hover over her. She blocked him out, blocked everything else out that was around her, except for her beautiful peach tree. With a small smile on her face, Sam realized that the peach tree was left unharmed. There were numerous pieces of fruit hanging from its limbs. She could live off of them. It would hold her over for days. She pushed at the soldiers shoulders and told him to stop but he didn't listen. He kept promising her food, promising her water, promising her warmth.

As her tears started to fall, so did the peaches, before the tree went up in flames.

Sam cried out when she opened her eyes and saw another leering man on top of her body. She screamed as she beat against his chest with her tiny fists. The blue coats were not going to take her again. She would not let them. She would be stronger this time. She had Sonny on her side.

"Would you hold still?" the cowboy snarled, "I paid for a piece of ass and I'm damn sure going to get one."

Sam froze when she realized that she was no longer in Atlanta. She was in her bed at The Devil's Gate saloon and some man had somehow gotten in here. She hadn't been downstairs all evening, in fact Sonny specifically told her to take the night off because he had a dinner with some friends and he wasn't going to be here. Someone had sent this man up to her room and he wasn't taking no for an answer.

She managed to kick him between his legs and scrambled out from under him. She jumped on the other side of her bed and looked for something to ward this cowboy off. She had nothing, not even one of those dime store novels that she read. He was laughing as he raised his arms and started to move around the bed.

"You want to play rough missy? I like that," he laughed.

Sam scrambled across the bed as he darted towards her and his beefy hand grabbed her slender ankle. She started to scream for help once again as she kicked him. She connected with his face and managed to make it to the door, flinging it open before he caught her around the waist again, pulling her.

She was crying, she was yelling and the one man who wanted to protect her couldn't come to her rescue.

"Calm down, you'll disturb the other customers," he hissed in her ear.

Sam tried desperately to cling to the doorframe but he was pulling her back inside. He had ripped her bodice and his one hand was now painfully squeezing her breast. She fought him like she couldn't fight the blue coats. Whore or not this man was not having her.

He had finally managed to pry her one hand from the door frame and Sam screamed loudly again but she knew that she would barely be heard over the rowdy music. When she still held on with her other hand he released her breast and slapped her hard across the cheek, causing her to see stars. Her grip had loosened and she felt her limp body being dragged backwards.

"Now, that's much better."

She could feel it again; the numbness that always surrounded her after a round with the blue coats. She swore that she wanted to be a survivor. She did not want to give up like her mother did. She wanted to be a fighter like her father and brother. She wanted to live to face another day. Sam however no longer had the fight in her.

She vaguely heard the pounding of boots as they came up the stairs and running down the hall. She vaguely remembered being caught in someone's arms as another looming figure sent the dirty cowboy flying across the room. She heard a soothing voice that sounded like Michael Corinthos and then she heard another one, one that was filled with hatred but shook when he spoke to her.

Sam blinked her eyes as she looked at the man whose arms she was now in. Sonny Corinthos stared back at her, concern etched in his near black eyes as his fingers ran down her bruised face. She somehow managed to give him a small smile.

"Mr. Corinthos," she whispered, "Just let me die."

Then the blackness swallowed her whole.

Jason chewed another piece of dry beef jerky and took a small swallow of his lukewarm coffee. He couldn't sleep. Frankly he didn't know how she could but he was sure that her body was overly exhausted from the last few weeks of hell that she had been living in. As soon as they got settled in the camp that he made, she demanded to know everything about her parents. He tried to tell her as gently as he could but still he could see in her eyes that she was picturing it all; the vultures, the body pieces, the carnage left to rot.

He sighed as he dumped the rest of his coffee over his shoulder. When she woke up tomorrow they would start their trek back to Charlesville. He didn't think that it would take them long, a few days at most if they traveled well. Although they had both been gone for weeks, she spent most of her time in an Indian tribe and he spent a couple of nights in a few towns to try and locate her or see if anyone knew of her whereabouts. He hoped that Laura would be excited to see her because Elizabeth needed that now more than ever.

Even with the dirt and bruises you could easily tell that Elizabeth Webber was a beautiful woman. Her hair was past her shoulders by a few inches and it held a natural curl to it. In society he would never be able to see the amount of legs that she was revealing in the Indian garb that was given to her by whomever and her arms were bare as well before she begrudgingly took one of his shirts because the temperature dropped to near freezing. Her eyes, although haunted, were the most beautiful blue that he had ever seen. They were more beautiful than the picture she now held. It was easy for a man to be drawn into them and he was surprised that someone like Elizabeth was not already settled down with a passel of kids. He also felt like a lecher for looking at her the way that he did. This woman had just suffered a traumatic experience and he couldn't help but stare at her like she was a piece of buffalo meat laid out on his table. Still, you simply couldn't miss her beauty.

He was sure that was why the savages took her and left the others to die. He couldn't get a good look at her mother and sister because of the days they were left out in the desert but he knew they were blond where Elizabeth was a brunette. He also knew that she had a fighting spirit, that was very clear. He was sure that the Apaches kept her for that reason. She was someone they had wanted to tame and while it was torture to Elizabeth it was the one thing that kept her alive.

Looking at her curled up in a fetal position, Jason wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

He watched as the dancing flames of the fire started to dim in the night air. There were still a few more hours to dawn and then he would start breakfast. It wasn't the first night that he went without sleep and he knew that it wouldn't be his last. Rolling his head back and forth to crack his neck, Jason stopped suddenly when he heard something. His ears perked up when the noise came again and he squinted into the darkness behind him to see if some animal had come upon them. It was then that he realized the noise was coming from across the campfire and Elizabeth was no longer in a curled up position, she was flailing about.

He immediately got up and walked towards her, placing his hand on the small of her back, "Elizabeth? Elizabeth, wake up, you're having a dream."

"No, no, get off of me," she cried as her hand came around and smacked his hand away, "Go away, please, my family. What did you do to my family? No, not again, no!"

Jason felt tears sting his eyes as he tried to wake her. She wasn't having a dream. She was reliving the nightmare of the past few weeks of her life. She was walking through the hell all over again. He tried one more time to shake her.

"Elizabeth?"

Her fist connected with the side of his jaw and he stumbled back, falling on his backside. She shot up in the sleeping mat that he provided her and her wide eyes darted around, trying to familiarize herself with her surroundings. Her breathing was erratic, her body was shaking and then those blue eyes found him. She pulled his shirt closer around her body and then she started to cry.

He positioned himself in a crouching position and moved towards her, "Elizabeth…"

"Please," she choked through her tears, "Don't touch me."

Jason moved away and watched her as she turned into herself and continued to cry those horrendous tears. He was known as the fiercest gunslinger in the West; he had killed many a men and was known to inflict pain on those he was seeking information from. He had numerous broken bones, plenty of bullet wounds and even went through torture once or twice before. Nothing that he had ever seen or done affected him like the woman who sat a few feet from him. He was a man's man, a bounty hunter that couldn't be brought down and yet this tiny woman had him on his knees.

As Jason watched her lay back down on his sleeping mat, her body still racked with sobs, he too began to cry.

Sonny turned back from staring out into the dark streets of Charlesville. The saloon was winding down for the evening and he put his son in charge of closing up. One patron was lead out the back way and would never be seen again on the streets of this small town but that was because he dared cross the line in The Devil's Gate. He put his hands on a woman; Sonny's woman.

He moved towards the bed where a pale Samantha McCall slept. One of the women who had often helped as a midwife was called and she gave Sam a small dose of laudanum to help her sleep through the night. Sonny however wanted to see those dark eyes. He wanted to find out what happened to cause this man to do what he did, to cause Sam to look like a wild animal who was caged. He wanted so bad to apologize for once again not being there.

"Sonny?"

"Hello Mr. O'Brien," Sonny smiled to his old friend as he locked the door to his law office, "I told Carly that I would be home by dinner but I'm sure she wouldn't mind if I dropped in the saloon for a quick beer."

"Sonny, we need to talk, now," Johnny said standing in front of his friend with his hat pulled low, "Something happened on the other side of town."

Sonny's dimpled smile disappeared, "Is Michael alright?" when Johnny didn't answer Sonny felt his heart skip a beat, "Where's Carly?" When Johnny still didn't reply Sonny dropped his bag carrying all of his folders and grabbed the man by the collar on his shirt, "Where the hell is my wife?"

Johnny had a hard time managing to keep eye contact with his best friend, "She's dead, Sonny, she's dead."

Sonny looked down startled when he felt a warm hand slide across his wet cheek. Sam was looking up at him with a sad smile on her face and a worried look in her deep brown eyes. That was his southern belle, dying inside and always worried about him.

"You're awake," he whispered as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, "I was worried about you. Can you tell me what happened?"

"Are you okay?" she asked sitting up in bed and she looked down realizing that he had undressed her and put her in one of his silk pajama tops. She smiled at him again, "What's wrong Sonny?"

"I don't know what the hell happened to you," Sonny said as he pulled her closer to him, "You just push that all aside and start thinking about me. It pisses me off like you wouldn't believe, Sam. This isn't about me."

"It is when you're in pain," she said as she twisted her fingers in his white shirt and pulled him closer, "You were thinking about Carly." He looked at her with raised eyebrows, "You had that same look in your eyes on the anniversary of her death," she hesitated, "The day that you let me in."

Sonny looked down at her small hands and placed his larger ones on top of them. He did let her in that day. He let her see the way he tortured himself year after year for not knowing that there was something wrong with his wife, for not knowing how to save her. After all these years, he nearly screwed up again by promising another woman he would protect her and nearly failing.

"I'm sorry that I wasn't here for you," he whispered.

"You were here. You saved me," she smiled, "You and Michael. I remember hearing his voice. He's so much like you. You should be proud of him."

"I wish I could have come sooner. I wish I was here. I had no idea how in the hell he got into your room but I was coming through the doors and I heard a scream and my gut just…"

And it did. His gut told him that it was Sam who needed him and he pushed numerous well paying customers out of his way to get upstairs to the woman that he was starting to care deeply for. He saw Michael tying his pants as he ran down the hall and the two of them encountered the large cowboy that was roughing Sam up. Sonny saw red right before he caught Sam in his arms.

"I saw your eyes," he said as he brushed some of her dark hair from her face, "You looked so terrified and you told me that you wanted to die. Whatever he did to you to make you feel that way I can assure you that he will no longer be doing that to you or any other woman."

Sam slid her arm from his shirt to around his neck, "It wasn't him. I was…I was asleep and he startled me and I didn't know what to do."

Sonny knew all to well what was going on. She was having nightmares, revisiting the past and trying so hard to fight the darkness that always wanted to wrap around your soul. He twisted his fingers in her hair and pulled her in for a kiss.

"I understand."

"I know you do," she whispered as she pushed him back onto his bed, "So make it all go away, Sonny."

He did.

Johnny O'Brien took a sip of his hot coffee as he watched the rest of the cowboys filter out of the bunkhouse for breakfast. He had enjoyed his dinner last night with Emily and Lucky Spencer but he knew it was a special occasion. If he signed on for this job he would be sleeping with the rest of the boys and be having the meals with them. Roberto was the cook for the cowboys and while what he was making looked questionable no one seemed to be complaining about it.

"Nice morning," Lucky smiled as he came to stand beside Lorenzo, "This is actually some of the best coffee that I tasted in a real long time."

"Doves can make some nice drinks but not a damn one of them can make a good cup of coffee," Johnny smirked as he took another sip.

Lucky chuckled, "I have to agree there. I heard Alcazar arrived home last night and we should hopefully be able to meet with him this morning. I wanted to say good luck. I heard you were a hard worker back east with whatever you did. Sonny has a lot of good things to say about you."

"Sonny talks a lot," Johnny muttered, "And I wish the same to you. This is the best place to start if you want to dig your heels into ranching. Last time I saw a place this big was before the Arizona line."

"It's a challenge but it's something I always wanted to do," Lucky said as he finished the last of his coffee.

"Hey Spencer!" some cowboy named Henry called, "Riders ahead, looks to be your sister!"

"Lesley Lu?" Lucky asked as he placed his mug down and started ahead, "I have no idea what the hell she's doing here."

Johnny smiled as he took another long drink from his coffee, "I do."