Disclaimer- Yet another reminder that I do not own Young Guns…so depressing.

When Grace awoke the following morning she was momentarily confused. Waking up in a strange bed has that effect on people. Gazing toward the window she could see that it was still mostly dark but early morning light was just beginning to penetrate through the curtains. Rubbing her eyes she sat up and began unbraiding her hair. Each morning she brushed it, washed it quickly, and then braided it again. In her travels she found that her hair simply could not go a day without washing and that by plaiting the unruly locks they stayed out of her way. Changing back into her day clothes she stepped out into the hall and out of the house and stood on the porch. Sitting down on the steps she watched some wandering chickens peck the ground. It wasn't long before heavy footsteps sounded inside and she was joined by Mr. Tunstall who sat down beside her.

"You really shouldn't be out in the cold with wet hair" he commented. Laughing she touched her braid which had fallen over one shoulder and tried to squeeze some excess water from it.

"I really appreciate what you're doing for me Mr. Tunstall. To be honest I'm tired of wandering around." She turned to him, "I can be useful too, just like the boys. I can ride and shoot, but I can cook, clean, and sew besides." Mr. Tunstall seemed surprised.

"Who taught you to shoot?" he asked.

"My father and brothers; they raised me" she paused and looked away toward the now steadily rising sun. Gently Mr. Tunstall asked,

"Where are they now?"

"Papa died of influenza and my brothers of the pox. My grandma was the only family I had left so I went to live with her."

For a long while they sat in silence just watching as the day grew lighter. Eventually the boys began to emerge from the bunkhouse one by one. They were already dressed and ready for the new day of work ahead of them. Doc went to the henhouse to collect the eggs, Chavez went to tend to the horses, Charley and Steve both went to check on the cattle supervised by Dick of course, and Billy took care of the hog. Grace stood up and stepped off the porch. "Is it okay if I check on the horse?" Mr. Tunstall waved her onward,

"No need to ask."

Hurrying toward the barn she stepped inside and went to the stall occupied by her new horse. As Grace stepped beside the horse it turned its head toward her and nuzzled against her chest. Running a hand along her coat Grace frowned.

"She needs to be brushed." Gasping at the deep voice behind her she spun to see Chavez holding out a brush.

"Thank you." Gingerly she took the brush from him and put it to good use on her horse. As she did so she watched Chavez as he worked around the barn taking hay to all the horse's stalls. He was tall and lean, with a dark complexion, and black hair worn longer than the other boys. Remembering what he had said the day before about being Mexican-Indian it was obvious when you really looked at him. It certainly set him apart from the others. It was some time before she realized that she was staring. Shaking her head slightly, she drew her attention back to the horse. Suddenly he spoke,

"So you'll be staying here then?"

"I think so yes, at least for a little while." Chavez smiled,

"I've got to make the rounds on the property. Want to come and take a look around?" he asked, offering her the reins of one of the horses. Reaching out and taking them from his gloved hand she looked up at his dark brown eyes.

"I'd like that very much, thank you."

~Later that same week...

A gunshot caused Grace to drop what she was doing and rush to look out the front door. Dick was up on the hill astride his horse yelling something about checking out the cattle in the lower 40. Letting out a slow breath she placed a hand over her chest and stepped back in the house. Was that really necessary? she wandered as she walked back into the kitchen stepping over a couple fallen pans as she did. Hands on hips, an exasperated Grace stared up at the large assortment of pots and pans on top of the hoosier cabinet. Somehow, from a family of giants, she had drawn the short straw when it came to height. Taking a breath she stood up on tiptoe trying once more to reach the one she needed. Her fingertips just barely brushed the bottom of the pot. Crouching down slightly she jumped up and made to grab at it. Completely hitting off her mark, another pan came crashing to the floor. Not the one I wanted. Finally she hitched up her skirts and put her knee on the tabletop portion of the cabinet. Just as she was about to hoist herself up a dark hand reached over her and easily lifted up the pot. Looking over her shoulder she saw Chavez. Eyebrows raised he was looking at her precarious position perched on the tabletop. She hopped down quickly and rustled her skirts back into place. Chavez smiled down at her while holding out the pot. Taking it gratefully she turned to place it on the table,

"Thanks. I thought you all went to check out the lower 40?"

"I heard the noise and came to check it out. Is this how you've been getting things down?" He raised an eyebrow as he looked around at all the pans that had hit the floor in Grace's endeavor to reach the one she wanted. Following his gaze she laughed and began picking them up.

"Yes, well I don't think this kitchen is used to someone my size." Chavez took the pans from her hands and placed them back where they belonged while Grace watched him enviously. Chavez was easily a full foot taller which left her about eye level with his chest. She went on, "I always wanted to be taller like my brothers."

"Your size suits you." Again his eyes watched hers, but something in his gaze caused Grace to lowered her eyes. "Where did you get eyes like those?" No one else had commented on them yet but it was usually inevitable. Grace had one dark brown eye but the other was a deep shade of green.

"My papa had green eyes and my mother had brown eyes. I guess I got one from each." That had always been what her Papa had told her.

"I've never seen it before." Grace wasn't surprised.

"One of my brothers had it too."

"Had?"

"I lost my brothers both to the pox a year ago." She said this quietly. No expanse of time healed the wounds of losing your family. Chavez's eyes became soft and understanding.

"I'm sorry," he offered quietly. Grace nodded as she looked up into his face and was surprised at the gentleness she saw there. When she lowered her gaze again she caught sight of a rip in Chavez's shirt. Without thinking she reached out and touched the material. It was a straight cut about five inches long, the fabric had yet to fray. She looked back up,

"When you change for supper, bring me this shirt and I'll mend it." Without waiting for a reply she went back to the counter, picked up a knife and commenced chopping the vegetables for the stew.

Later that day after everyone had finished their supper they adjourned to the parlor to read which Grace had come to understand was an everyday practice. Before they all settled in, Grace ran quickly to her room to retrieve her sewing kit but on the way there she passed through the kitchen. In her hurry she nearly tripped over a small step ladder that had been placed around the corner. Stopping for a moment she set it back in place and smiled to herself before continuing on to her room. When she returned she took a seat beside Charley on his bench so as to benefit from the light of the fire. Mr. Tunstall handed Doc a pamphlet and asked him to begin. As Doc read aloud, Grace mended Chavez's shirt. Even in the flickering light of the fire her needle deftly moved through the fabric. Once finished she knotted the thread, bit through it and held up the shirt. Turning it right-side in she placed it over her knee and ran her fingers over where the tear had been. Satisfied with her work she folded it neatly and left it to lay in her lap. At her side Charley was playing with a lariat and before her Chavez was working on one of the many knives Grace had noticed that he carried on his person. The pamphlet had now been passed to Steve who was reading with more difficulty than had Doc. He took his time sounding out the words.

"There are plenty of men who will never…secede-"

"Succeed" Mr. Tunstall corrected. Steve looked startled and reread the sentence correctly.

"suc- who will never succeed anywhere." Steve finished off the sentence and looked relieved that his turn was over.

"You've got a whole room full of em right here" commented Dick from his place at the table. Everyone chuckled at that, even Mr. Tunstall. Grace liked that about them. They made light of their less than perfect pasts. Living here was like being given a clean slate.

"Well done. William." Billy's head snapped up and he immediately scoffed,

"Yeah, sure."

"Well excuse me Billy. Very sorry to offend you, but we congregated here to learn to read and write. You need more than skill with a firearm to succeed in the new world Billy. So take up the journal, and start where the other boy left off, or you can go straight back to your home on the streets." Grace's eyes were wide as she glanced from Mr. Tunstall to Billy. Again Steve extended the pamphlet to Billy who snatched it up and began to read…very well. As he easily read Grace watched the other boy's reactions. They were clearly surprised, as was she actually. It wasn't that Billy seemed ignorant; he just didn't come across as an educated kid. Mr. Tunstall just gave a little half smile.

"Splendid" he said as he lifted himself from his rocking chair, "A splendid reading, thank you. Goodnight." As he left the room everyone chorused their goodnights. Once they heard the door to his bedroom close Dick asked,

"Where'd you learn to read Billy?"

"I went to school in Silver City." Billy hopped up from his seat on a low chest and headed for the door where the others began to follow him. It was late and they always had an early morning ahead of them. Chavez was the last to rise from his spot by the fireplace. When he did Grace rose from the bench and handed him his shirt.

"Good as new" she said with a smile. Chavez unfolded the shirt and inspected her work while she stood with her hands clasped behind her back awaiting his opinion.

"I can't even tell where it was ripped" he admitted. "Thanks." With a smile he turned and headed for the door. Grace followed him,

"Did you put a step ladder in the kitchen?" He turned and leaned against the door frame.

"Yeah it's been in the barn for a while and no one ever uses it."

"I really appreciate it Chavez, have a good night."

"You too Grace". With that he left the house and walked off to the bunkhouse.