Joey followed Call for a few days. It soon became apprant that the old man was trying to make his way back to his posse. The wind was chill and Joey found he had to layer blankets on top of himself to keep out the cold, but he was young and healthy, a little winter weather would not do him much, if any harm, the same could not be said for Captain Woodrow Call. Joey could easily see how stiff the old ranger was each morning, it took him nearly an hour to tie on his saddle bags and by the second night Call left all his bags tied to the horse to ease the time spent on the task the next morning.

Joey's mouth turned in disgust at the memory, this old man was no match for him, a well known infamous train bandit with a legend surrounding his expert shot with a rifle. Joey almost felt insulted watching Call potter around his newly made camp, the fact that the train company would send such an old man, a man who looked as if his gnarled stiff fingers wouldn't even pull a trigger in the direst of need, made Joey angry. He wanted a challenge, not to shoot a slow moving target; he wanted this man's death to mean something. Perhaps Call's reputation did give him some leeway with the rich people back east that had hired him, they probably had no idea how useless he was or that their money was being badly misspent on such an incapable man.

Before dawn had fully risen the next day Joey was already riding, he knew there was a group of men herding a large amount of horses; they had passed nearby the night before and would have made camp just a few miles from where he was. He intended to take three horses for his ambush of Call, he would hide his own horse so that it would not get shot if anything went wrong, he had paid good money for the black stallion and didn't intend to pay for another.

The men were all sleeping, snoring loudly when Joey arrived. They slept heavily and did not stir as Joey took his pick of the horses they had with them. He hesitated getting on to his horse for a moment, he toyed with the idea of killing all of the men, perhaps doing so would give him new ideas for when he was in his cave with Ella, but he quickly dismissed the thought, he didn't have the time and he did not want to get blood on his clothing when he did not have anything clean. Although Joey hated to be unclean he did not let this fact bother him too much, he would soon be in Ojinaga and could get some fresh clothes there.

He led the horses back to where he had made his camp the night before and secured his own horse before leading the three stolen horses onwards, towards a small hill nearby Call's camp. Joey could already tell that the Texas Ranger was not yet awake and he had plenty of time to set up his plan. He hobbled the horses' front legs together, preventing them from moving from the positions he wished them to stay in. When he had tied the last rope he concealed himself just below the brow of the hill, a horse stood in front of him providing protection and camouflage. Joey could clearly see the path his target would take; he would get a nice clean shot at Call as he came riding up to investigate the seemingly free roaming animals.

Joey waited patiently as the horses grazed, it was well after dawn that the Captain finally rose and made himself a small meal, Joey could see the wisps of smoke in the distance, he knew it wouldn't be long now and the young bandit was right. Joey pulled himself further up the hill until he was nearly underneath the horse as Call rode into view, the 'loose' animals had piqued his curiosity and he was most likely wanting to check their brands, just as Joey had calculated.

Joey watched the old man from under the horse's belly and brought his rifle into position. Call was oblivious to any danger and continued to lope towards the horses and the range of Joey's gun… Now he was no more than one hundred and fifty yards away, the shot was so easy and Joey felt his heartbeat quicken, he was mere moments away from showing everyone in Mexico and Texas that to tangle with Joey Garza was to invite a quick and painful death. He could almost imagine the talk in the cantinas, it would all be of him and how he had killed the great Texas Ranger, Woodrow Call… His myth would grow and this thought made him smile, it didn't really matter that Call was useless, what did mean something was the old Ranger's name and the fame and acknowledgement it would bring to his killer…

Joey aimed, checked the distance and then aimed again, sighting the old man in his little telescope, he squeezed the trigger gently, relishing that rush of feeling as the rifle fired. The shot hit Call square in the chest, Joey didn't hesitate for a moment but fired again, hitting Call in the arm and then he pulled the trigger a third time and put a bullet into the Ranger's knee, shattering bone. This last shot sent Call's horse into a terrified rear which unseated him from his mount causing the old man to fall with a heavy thump to the ground. Joey had anticipated Call's next move would be to try and get his weapons and defend himself, Joey shot his horse with a neat bullet to the head, the horse reared again before falling down dead, pinning Call's rifle and most of his supplies underneath the animal.

Joey paused, listening. He heard the old man cock his pistol, waiting for Joey to ride up and check he was dead. He was hoping Joey would be foolish and eager and make a mistake, but Joey was neither of these things and so far in his career he had never made a mistake. Joey heard Call give a low groan of pain, the bullet wounds had not killed him outright but with no help and unable to give himself treatment he would be dead within a few days. Joey debated staying and watching Call die and decided that he would linger nearby for one night, but in the morning he would leave and head for his home.

He waited for a good while, making sure that Call was indeed as hurt as he suspected, when Joey felt sure, he got up and unhobbled each of the horses. He gave each animal a sharp slap on the flank and watched a moment as they rode away at full gallop. He quickly made his way back to his own horse and mounted it before riding to the place he had left Call. He kept his distance but from his position he could see that Call was lying on his back, breathing hard, his eyes closed and blood covering his clothing. Joey gave a smug, certain smile.

"Die, old man." The smile didn't leave his lips. Without another backwards glance he turned his horse and rode away to make camp somewhere he could watch, perhaps if the old man died in the night Joey could return and take something that had belonged to the famous Ranger, this thought pleased him greatly.

---

Ella watched as Doc packed essentials into a saddle bag.

"I just wish you wouldn't go is all" she said, annoyance hinting at her tone.

"I promised Call I'd meet up with him on his way to where the posse is camped, I can't just not show up."

"Can't you get word to him?"

Doc shook his head. "No, I have to go; I want to tell him in person that I'm quittin'." He glanced at Ella who still watched him with doubtful eyes. He halted in his chore and pulled her to him, comforting her fears a little with his warm embrace.

"I don't like it Doc, I feel uneasy about you goin'." She paused, pulling away from him a little. "He's just an old lawmen, he's probably used to people not showin' up."

"Maybe," Doc said with a smile, "but the Captain's a good man, I have to do right by him."

"How long will you be?"

"A few days, not long." He smiled and resumed packing his bag.

Ella nodded in understanding. "Well, if it's somethin' you feel you have to do, I guess you have to do it… Just be careful Doc."

"I will." Doc kissed her tenderly upon her cheek. "And when I get back we'll leave, head into Texas, away from here."

Ella gave another nod, but she couldn't help the uneasy feeling that continued to grow in her gut. The thought that they wouldn't make it to Texas seemed to well within her mind and she couldn't quell it, no matter how much she tried, she feared Joey would kill Doc and the future she so wanted. Who knew where Joey was now, he had intentions to kill Call and all of his posse and that included Doc, all she could do was pray that Joey had not felt the time was right to begin taking lives, but Joey was never patient when it came to using his rifle…

Ella shivered.

---

Doc rode at a hard trot for many miles, it had been a whole day and night since he had left Ella's side. He had to admit he hadn't liked leaving her after she had given him what he had desired for so long, a promise that they would be together. He still couldn't quite believe that it had come to pass; he had thought his love nothing but a fool's dream. His old friend Billy Bonney had often said what a romantic dreamer Doc was, his head filled with love poems and the thought of respectable living. Doc knew he was unsuited to being an outlaw, his conscience would gnaw at him relentlessly if he ever had to kill a man, even if the man had been about to kill him. He had no stomach for causing death… now he could leave it all behind for good, he would take Ella far away from this place and they would find a good town, marry and live happily, whatever came after that he would welcome with open arms, no matter what it was, as long as she was by his side.

He tried hard not to think of the train bandit, Joey Garza. The thought of Ella being with him sent the hairs on the back of his neck prickling as the anger riled him. He didn't want to dwell on it, tormenting himself with images of Ella with a shadowed figure of a man who held her tenderly… was Joey better looking than he was? Was he truly in love with her? Would she run to him willingly if he told her he wanted her back? Was he a better lover?

Doc furrowed his brow and inwardly shook himself, lingering on such thoughts would only cause him pain, what mattered now was that Ella was sat in Ojinaga waiting for him to return. Him, Doc Scurlock, not Joey Garza… He sighed, perhaps he would always have these doubts, with Dave he had known the man was no good, that he had very few redeeming qualities, but with this boy Doc didn't have any facts or certainties.

He made himself focus upon riding and tried to ignore his thoughts… they did him no good.

---

It was another half a day before Doc picked up Call's trail, he followed it faithfully to an abandoned camp, there were still scattered belongings all around the recently burnt out fire, Doc's instincts bristled and he pulled out his rifle, his eyes scanning the surrounding area. He suddenly became disturbingly aware that he was being watched, but he could see no one, no matter how hard he looked.

He saw that Call's tracks led out of the camp and after gathering his courage he decided to follow, he knew the decision could be foolish, especially with the uneasy feeling of eyes upon him, but Call had become a sort of friend in the many months he had been with him, Doc had to make sure he was alright, no matter the danger.

Still gripping his rifle, Doc rode out, after a little distance he saw a dark shape a way ahead. It looked like a fallen horse; he squinted trying to make out for certain… Yes, the horse was dead and beside it was a figure.

"Jesus!" Doc said loudly and spurred his horse onwards.

He came to a halt beside the dead animal and dismounted in a swift and almost desperate movement, silently praying that he wasn't too late.

"Jesus!" He repeated as his eyes focused upon the scene and the wounded Ranger. "Captain!" He rushed to Call's side.

Doc's gaze took in the extent of the older man's injuries, he'd been badly wounded and blood had gathered in congealed pools about him. He had a bad bullet wound to his knee, another to his arm and a last to his chest. Doc checked them over quickly, he'd have to start a fire and bathe all the wounds with hot water before he could be sure of the full damage but it didn't look good. Doc could only guess when Call had sustained the damage but he thought perhaps earlier that very day, if Doc acted with haste he may be able to help.

"Captain Call" Doc said, placing a hand on the Ranger's arm.

With what appeared to be a great effort Call opened his eyes, it took him a moment to focus.

"Scurlock?" he mumbled through dry lips.

Doc gave a certain nod. "I came to find you, guess it's a good job I did." He paused as the older man tried to regain his senses from the pain. "I'll start a fire and have a look at those wounds, we should be able to make it back to Ojinaga within a day and a half from here, there'll be help there."

Call looked at him with strange eyes, eyes that seemed to be haunted. "The Garza boy" he said suddenly. "Ambush! He may still be here."

"I can't see anyone, just rest" Doc said kindly, trying to ease the man's fears.

Without another word being spoken Doc set about making a new camp right where they were. He prayed silently that Call's wounds could be patched up until he got back to the village, he could leave Call with Ella and send for a doctor. Of course now the situation meant he could not just up and leave as he had planned, he would have to find the rest of Call's posse and tell them of their Captain's misfortunes… and if Doc was honest, he feared for them. For the bookish Yankee Mr. Brookshire, whom the railroad had sent to keep everything in order, he was not suited to this place, he was a salary man with no experience with anything but a chair and desk. For the young Deputy Plunkitt from Laredo, he was not yet twenty one and had a young bride back in his home town and was only riding with them for the experience of being part of the great Woodrow Call's posse. Lastly, for Famous Shoes, a Kickapoo tracker who had a strange sense of humor and walked everywhere, his pace an even trot. None of these men were up to the task of dealing with Joey Garza and Doc was worried for their safety without Call to protect them… he would have to do what was right and see they were all sent to safe places until either Call recovered or a new Ranger was put in charge.

When he had a good fire burning Doc heated a pot of fresh water and tore up one of his spare clean shirts. He began bathing Call's bullet wounds, Call had packed sand into most of the wounds to stop the bleeding and once this was removed Doc could see the full extent of the damage. The bullet to his arm had passed cleanly though, missing bone, but still it would be a good while before the arm could be used and it badly needing stitching. The bullet wound to his chest Doc was unsure of, it looked deep, and from its position appeared to be close to his heart. He would need a roof over his head to probe deeper and see what could be done about it but for the moment it appeared it could wait. It was the damage to Call's leg that worried Doc, it had broken bone jutting out of the flesh and would need to be set or even taken off completely. After cleaning around the wound and pouring a good amount of whiskey on it, Doc found two good wooden splints and set the leg, Call howled in pain, his mind only barely conscious.

Doc bandaged each of the wounds tightly and decided that the next day would be the best day to go, they only had one horse but he didn't mind walking, Ojinaga wasn't too far and that meant neither was Ella, the thought gave him much needed warmth.