Chapter 8: Panic

Rose suddenly felt as if a hundred sinister eyes were boring into her back, and moved faster, grabbing at the wall for support as she staggered out of Elizabeth's room and toward the stairs. She cast a wary glance over her shoulder, and consequently ran head-on into a partly open closet door, falling down in the hall.

She scrambled up, ignoring the throbbing pain in her cheekbone.

"I need help!" She screamed over and over, nearly falling down the stairs as her trembling knees buckled, "Please, help!"

She was relieved when she made it onto the street, feeling relatively safe there, compared to the confines of the house, where she'd just watched her beautiful young friend die. She was aware of the tears coursing down her cheeks, but everything else seemed far away from her, except a chill that spread over her body despite the warm night air.

Shock, she realized. She was plainly in shock, and not without reason. There was no one out in the streets. She stumbled to the Marshal's office, where she spotted John slumped on his desk, with an impressive puddle of drool spreading on the document in front of him.

"John! John wake up! It's another murder! Please!" She sobbed. Her voice was shrill with panic as she lay her hands on him and shook hard. He roused slowly, picking his head up and bringing the square of paper stuck to his cheek with him. He didn't seem to notice. His eyes were still glazed and distant.

"What? Rose, have you come to accept my proposal? Or join me in bed?" He laughed, and blinked at her through unfocused eyes.

He'd had more to drink, she guessed from the flask sitting next to him.

Rose cursed under her breath. She'd have to get Jamie and Teaspoon then.

Mesa ran hard, and it was only a few minutes before she pulled him up at the ranch, in the stable aisle. Her fingers were starting to tremble uncontrollably as she dragged the saddle off the horse and peeled off his bridle, leaving the palomino in the middle of the hall as she carried her gear to the tack room.

She kicked the door open and tripped on the step into the room, ending up with her tack in a heap on the floor.

"Rose!" The voice was startled and Rose lifted her head, sighing in relief to see Carlos.

"Oh Carlos! The most horrible thing has hap-," she began to sob, but stopped short as she saw him.

He had his back to her, trying to shield what she could plainly see despite his efforts. He was bent over the wash basin, soap lathered to the elbows of both hands.

However, he'd still not been successful in rinsing off the bright red blood from his arms. Rose felt the shaking start anew in her from head to foot.

He turned around when she broke off so suddenly.

"Get away from me!" She shrieked at the top of her lungs, "Don't you touch me!"

"Rose, calm down amiga," he said quietly raising his hands, and Rose could see the bright red blood covering his entire shirt. His eyes widened, "Rose, what happened?"

She screeched at the top of her lungs, scrambling up and leaping from the tack room, and starting at a dead run away from him.

She was blinded by tears and carried by sheer adrenaline, in desperate flight from danger. The most primitive self preservation instincts of man took control of her body, and she ran for her life.

So frantic was she that she never saw the figure step in her path until strong hands clamped on her arms and stayed there as she flailed wildly.

"Let me go! Let go!" She screamed, pounding the chest in front of her with fury and fright, still in flight.

"Stop it! Rose! Rose!" A hard shake tilted her head back and through tear blurred eyes and a wayward lock of hair she met a pair of familiar blue eyes.

Kid.

She hurled herself into his arms with wrenching, screaming sobs, willing him to hold her tighter, to make her feel safe.

"Rose! What has happened? Is it Jamie? Are you hurt?"

"Elizabeth Walker is dead! Murdered! I saw her…I found her!" New sobs wracked her frame, "We have to get Teaspoon! I think Carlos did it!"

"Elizabeth? Murdered?" Kid could not comprehend the death of a child that had grown up beside his, much less by intention. "Rose that can't be….And Carlos? What in the world, sweetheart? What would make you think Carlos would..."

"This," a new voice joined the conversation, and Kid stiffened when he looked up to see Carlos approaching.

Understandable why Rose thought he might have killed someone, Kid thought. He was smeared in blood from head to toe. Kid pushed Rose behind him and flexed his fingers, mentally drawing his gun, preparing should he have to physically do so.

"I didn't mean to scare her," Carlos said, "One of the cows miscarried…it was a bad mess. She bled to death, and I was trying to help her. The carcasses are in the pasture if you'd like to have a look."

Kid sighed with relief, glad that one of his best hands had an explanation. Rose peered from around his shoulder at Carlos, her fingers digging smartly into Kid's arm.

"There now," Kid said soothingly, "See, it isn't Carlos. Now, let's get you calmed down and let you tell me what happened."

In the light Rose looked down at herself and gasped and so did Kid, checking her over to be sure that no blood was hers. She was nearly as blood covered as Carlos. She shuddered violently, resisting the temptation to allow herself to faint. No, she needed to talk to Teaspoon first, then maybe she'd allow herself the luxury of swooning.

"We have to get Teaspoon," She whispered, "John's drunk and he won't be any help."

Kid's eyebrows raised in disapproval at hearing the man who'd taken Rose to dinner had gotten drunk, and he wondered how Rose had stumbled upon Elizabeth's body if she was supposed to be with John, but repressed the questions. Time enough for that later, he knew.

"What happened to your face? Did he do that?" Kid suddenly growled, seizing her chin gently but firmly and turning it so her cheek was in the path of the porch lantern light.

"No…I ran into a door…trying to get out of Elizabeth's house," Rose whispered, a violent shudder seizing her. Suddenly the reality of what she had seen broke through her shock and tears finally came coursing down her cheeks. "She's dead. Elizabeth is dead, Kid." she cried brokenly into her hands until Kid pulled her hard against him, holding onto her for dear life and though he imagined it wrong to do so, giving thanks that it was someone else's daughter and not his own that was gone.

After sending Carlos to get Teaspoon, Kid set his arm around Rose's shoulders and led her into the house.

"Rose, honey, what's happened?" Lou asked, rushing forward and taking the girl by the hands. Tears washed silently down her cheeks, the left one was slowly turning yellowish green, and Lou knew it would be purple by morning.

"He's back," she finally told Kid and Lou as they sat on either side of her and both hugged her tightly, trying to stop her trembling. She told them the whole story, from the murder last week to her leaving John when his advances had become inappropriate and how she'd found Elizabeth.

"Who is back?" Lou asked, brushing a lock of copper hair from Rose's forehead.

"The man who cut my ear...who tried to kill me. He's back."

Kid jumped in surprise, "How do you know?"

Teaspoon, who'd just hurried into the house, answered before Rose could, "Because whoever murdered Elizabeth and the saloon girl last week, has a signature. He cuts off their ears."

Jamie had a feeling something was horribly wrong when he rode in with Patrick and saw all the lights in the house burning brightly. It was late, and Rose should have gone to bed a long time ago, he thought. He left his horse with Patrick and walked toward the main house. Mesa had been left in the hallway, Rose's saddle was in a pile in the tack room doorway, and Kid and Lou's horses shoved their noses at him over their stalls.

Jamie burst into the house, relieved to see both his parents and Rose in one glance. He then took a closer look. Their faces were all pale and worried, especially Rose who looked as if she might rattle her teeth from her skull with their chattering. A closer look revealed dried blood covering her hands, face, and clothes, and a nasty bruise on her face.

"What happened? Rose, are you alright?" Jamie bellowed, "Did John do that?"

"I-I'm fine," she assured him, quaking anew at the anger in his voice, "But Jamie...we have to tell you something…"

Lou's eyes filled with tears as she thought of how much the truth of this night would hurt him. Elizabeth was not the love of his life, as he once had thought, but she had been a friend and more to Jamie for most of his life. "It's hard news, Jamie."

"What?" Jamie demanded, wide-eyed and heart lurching at the looks on their faces.

"Elizabeth Walker was murdered tonight. By the same man who killed the saloon girl last week from the looks of it," Lou said gently, watching as his face showed disbelief, anger, then shock.

"No," Jamie said with certainty and Lou saw her own fierceness in his denial. "That can't be."

"I am so sorry, Son," Kid stood and went to his side attempting to put his arms around Jamie, who was rigid as a statue.

"It's a mistake." Jamie protested violently, pulling away from his father. He tried to keep his voice calm and reasonable, but it trembled when he added, "It's not true."

Rose stood on unsteady legs and walked to Jamie. Gently she wrapped her arms around him and lay her cheek against his chest as she said through her fresh tears for his hurt, "I saw her, Jamie. I saw her die. I wasn't in time to help her and I am so sorry."

Jamie's arms instinctively wrapped her in an embrace and the act of offering her solace made him accept why she needed it and hot tears burned his own eyes. In a moment his mother and father had their arms about him also and all four of them clung to one another and tried to find balance in their tilting world.

"Amen," Rose murmured softly, hearing Jamie's deeper echo just above her ear. The graveyard was packed, all of Sweetwater had turned out. Her eyes drifted over the deep hole where the coffin lay to Mr. and Mrs. Walker, leaning on one another for support. How would they ever forgive themselves for not being there at the end?

It was a week after the murder, and Sweetwater was in a state of panic and mourning. Nothing had been found of the killer, much to Teaspoon's disbelief, and the people were growing restless, needing a scapegoat. The townspeople were frustrated, Teaspoon and John were common targets for anger and she hurt for them almost as much as The Walkers.

Rose let her eyes move to Carlos, and jumped when she found he was staring back at her intently. She'd not been alone with him after that one terrifying encounter in the tack room. A deep rooted guilt fit closely with her mistrust, for Carlos had been her friend since she was thirteen, but she just couldn't shake the memory of him, blood covered and grim-faced.

Her eyes went to John Morgan next. She'd refused to see him when he called the day after Elizabeth's death, telling Lou to tell him she was too distraught to see anyone. It had been the truth, if not the sole reason.

Although she wouldn't admit it to anyone else, she was angry at John, not so much for being drunk and talking nonsense as for not being able to protect her, or Elizabeth, when they'd needed it. She expected more from him, and he had disappointed her on both the surface and much deeper levels. Whatever she had started feeling for him before that night had seemingly died with Elizabeth.

She glanced up at Jamie, who had tears rolling unchecked down his face. As if by reflex, Rose reached for his hand.

Jamie jumped when her small, cool hand stole into his own, and his eyes met Rose's. He squeezed her hand in acknowledgement. Although she had been the one to see their friend's death, had been grilled by Teaspoon over and over for details she blamed herself for not being able to recall, and had seen her old demons come to life in the last week, she seemed to be coping better than he was. She had offered him more comfort than the reverse and he was surprised at her strength, at just how leveled he had been by the loss of his childhood sweetheart, and at how terrified he was that Rose would be next.

"I don't think it's the same man who cut Rose's ear," Teaspoon said quietly, leaning against his desk.

"Why not?" Buck asked softly, "Most others would think it could be."

"Well, if he would have killed another saloon girl, I might think differently. But since Rose was attacked in a saloon, I don't know why he would have sought out one of the most well-to-do girls in town as a victim. I'd think he'd keep looking in the saloons," Teaspoon said.

Jamie nodded, then said thoughtfully, "But what if he's been watching Rose…and he knows who her friends are? What if he went after Elizabeth on purpose?"

"Well, then how do you explain the first victim? Rose had never laid eyes on that girl in her life, right?" Kid put in softly.

There was silence for a moment as the men in the office shifted restlessly. Kid, Buck, Teaspoon, Jamie, and John all stood within the confines of Teaspoon's jail shortly after the funeral, deciding on a course of action.

Kid suddenly spoke up, "We're overlooking an important option," he said, "what if the killer has no connection to Rose at all? What if it just happens to be a sick coincidence that he likes to cut off his victim's ears? After all, Rose's attacker mutilated the ear, but did not take the whole thing off like this killer is doing."

There was silence, and then a grudging nod.

"What about Carlos?" Teaspoon asked suddenly, looking at Kid.

"What about him?" Kid returned calmly, but with a steely edge to his voice.

"I heard about what happened, with the blood…was there a cow out in the pasture?"

"Of course there was!" Kid exploded, "It wasn't him!"

"Are you sure?" John asked suddenly, "He was in town the night of the first murder."

"And so was half of Sweetwater!" Jamie pointed out, "So were you. So was I!"

"Well then maybe you're a suspect too," John said quietly.

Jamie muttered something under his breath and took a quick step toward John, "You've been in town both times! So if anyone is a suspect…"

"I was with Rose," John said, and air of boastful innuendo in his tone.

"Yeah, Rose told me about your behavior that evening. Your job was to protect her and the citizens of this town and you failed on both accounts. Don't you realize it could have been Rose with her throat opened instead of Elizabeth!" Kid growled, pinning the deputy with his stare until the younger man flushed.

"Damn you Morgan for putting her in danger! What kind of man are you?" Jamie snarled.

John made a move toward Jamie and Jamie was thrilled to meet him, but then Teaspoon stepped in.

"If you're gonna kill each other, do it outside, but you ain't acting like heathens in my office!" Teaspoon growled, then looked at Kid, "You're sure it wasn't Carlos?"

Kid nodded, "I'm sure, Teaspoon. I've known the man for fifteen years. He's never been the least bit violent."

"Every man has a breaking point," Buck pointed out, "Especially the way they treat him in town for being Mexican. Worse than they ever treated me."

Jamie shook his head, much like Kid, "It doesn't matter. Carlos isn't capable of murder."

"Would you bet Rose's life on that?" John asked.

"It's not my life to bet," Jamie retorted, "Nor yours."

"Well, for what it's worth, Rose still has her doubts to Carlos' innocence," Teaspoon said slowly, "She hasn't said anything, I know, but I can see it on her face when he's near. She's afraid of him. I don't want to believe he did it any more than you do Kid, and I'm not saying anything until I have some proof, but you watch Lou and Rose around him, you hear?"

Kid shook his head, "I'm not listening to this anymore." With that, he stormed out of the room, Jamie on his heels.

Teaspoon looked after them.

"Do you think they're right?" John asked him, leaning against the wall.

"Yes," Teaspoon said with a sigh, "But that leaves us with nothing but two dead girls."

Jamie was walking beside his father when a thought occurred to him. He thought back to the night of the first murder, and saw Carlos again, sneaking from the shadows. "Is the girl dead?" He'd asked, and suddenly, Jamie wondered how, if Carlos had come from the other direction, he'd known about the girl in the first place.

Another few weeks passed with no sign of the murderer, and Sweetwater was lulled into a sense of security, however tenuous. Rose was finally allowed to ride on the ranch lands alone, although Lou insisted she keep a gun.

No one believed that the murderer had moved on though, and the whole town held its collective breath and waited for the next stroke of bad fortune to fall.

Stopping to let Mesa draw breath on such a ride, she took the gun out of the holster and looked at it as if it were a foreign object she'd never laid eyes on. Might as well have been, she thought wryly, for all the good it did her.

While she'd inherited her father's quick wit, his swagger, his intelligence, his sense of justice, and his sometimes fierce temper, she had no trace of his marksmanship.

She chuckled to herself suddenly as she thought of the days when Kid had tried to teach her to fire the gun. She'd been hopeless, and had closed her eyes and flinched every time the gun fired, shrieking and dropping it more than once. When she'd gotten over the shrieking, she still couldn't bring herself to look as she fired.

She could still hear Kid's voice, his seemingly bottomless patience finally approaching a floor of irritation.

"No Rose, just hold it up a little, straighten your arm…and it would probably help if you opened your eyes, there you go, now fire! No! With your eyes open! Open Rose! You have to see what you're shooting at!"

She'd given him a look that told him what she would like to be shooting at that particular moment in time and he'd given her a perplexed look.

Wiping the sweat from his brow he'd asked her, "You're really bad at this. Are you sure Jimmy was your father?"

With a determined set of her jaw she'd turned back around, set her jaw, took careful aim, and fired at the bucket ten feet in front of her.

The bullet whined into the distance, and the bucket sat unscathed. Kid howled with laughter, doubling over, "At least you opened your eyes! But on second thought, I think you were closer with them closed!"

In a tantrum, she'd flung the gun on the ground and stormed off.

"I take it back!" He'd yelled after her, "You are definitely his daughter!"

Rose laughed about it now, and Mesa picked up his head and gave a low nicker in acknowledgement of her amusement.

Suddenly, his ears pricked up and he turned his head quickly back toward the ranch. She stiffened, and gripped the gun in earnest. Although she felt a bit safer, she wasn't likely to soon forget Elizabeth's last breath.

Her shoulders relaxed somewhat, but not entirely when she spotted the golden head of John Morgan riding toward her. She would have run away, but he'd spotted her and raised his hand in a wave.

Reluctantly, she lifted hers in return.

"Mrs. McCloud told me you'd gone riding," John said. "Rose, I need to talk to you. Will you listen to me?"

Rose studied him for a moment, her expression unforgiving. Then, she blinked and nodded, "I suppose I will."

"Shall we ride then?" he asked gesturing toward the mountains. And starting at a walk, he left her to catch up to him.

When she did, he began, "Rose, I'm so sorry about that night. I'm afraid I've never been able to hold my liquor very well. Bloody sad thing too, because I like the taste of it for all that. I don't drink often, but the wine was such a good quality at dinner that I had more than I intended."

"And the flask afterwards?" Rose couldn't help adding.

"The flask afterwards to make me forget what a fool I was to have spoken to you so. And that's what I've come to beg about. Your forgiveness. While I do think so highly of you and enjoy your company, I'm not really ready to marry you Rose, and I only said so because, well, because the liquor always makes me feel…" he stopped and dropped his head, hiding a sheepish smile, "Amorous."

Rose laughed at this, and he chuckled nervously as well.

"Rose, if another man had said the things to you that I did, I believe I'd have to call him to a duel. I don't have any right to ask, but can you forgive me?"

Rose looked at him, and decided that he was in fact, sincere. A small smile played on her lips, "Don't be silly. Of course I can forgive you, John…for that…but you have to understand that was maybe the worst night of my life and you were supposed to be protecting me, and you were too drunk to stand up. Too drunk to help Elizabeth, rest her soul."

John bowed his head, "I know, my dear. I know it too well. It will never happen again, I swear it. Give me another chance, Rose, I won't let you down again."

Rose stopped Mesa and turned to stare at him, as if judging the probability of him letting her down again. With a deep sigh, she said, "John, I fear you will hate me for this, but I must ask…would you please just consider me your friend and let us forget everything else between us?"

John looked back in shock, clearly never having expected her to suggest he stop his romantic advances, "May I ask why?" he wondered finally, sounding a bit strained.

Rose shrugged, "John, things are complicated for me right now."

John studied her, and in a moment his face softened and he sighed, "Ah, cruel woman, of course," he gave her the smile that had so charmed her on their first meeting, and did so again, "Of course, you'll not stop me from trying to change your mind?"

Rose laughed, "Could I stop you from trying to change my mind?"

"No I think not," John admitted, laughing back.

"Well then, I guess we've both got our work cut out for us then," Rose grinned, "Race you back to the ranch?"

"No, I never take part in such uncivilized…" John interrupted himself by spurring his mount quite suddenly, and very effectively gaining a head start.

"Looks like trouble coming in," Seth drawled slowly, straightening up with interest as two horses thundered toward the pasture gates.

"It's Rose and the Englishman," Patrick pointed out casually, smiling slightly when Jamie straightened up and took interest.

Laughter and shrieking reached them, and they relaxed, knowing it was only for sport that they came in at breakneck speed.

"Looks like everything is just fine and dandy with them," Jamie couldn't help muttering sourly.

Patrick sighed and turned around to watch as they pulled the horses, shining with sweat, to jolting halts and caught their breath. He couldn't catch the words between them, but saw quite plainly the determination with which Rose offered John her hand.

He took it and bent to kiss it, but Rose firmly grasped his hand and shook it rapidly before withdrawing her own. John laughed, and shook his head, saying something to the effect of, "you're a cold woman" before riding in the opposite direction.

Patrick turned and looked at Jamie as Rose began to slowly walk her horse in the rest of the way, "What did I say lad? I told you she'd not settle for a filthy Englishman!"

"Are you sure it's safe Teaspoon?" Kid asked uncertainly from atop Belle, "I don't have to take these horses."

"If you want to eat this winter, you do, Kid. It's the biggest sale of the year. You can't miss it," Lou pointed out practically, also astride her own horse, "You have to go…" her eyes went to Rose, "But I could stay..."

Rose smiled and shook her head, "No, you two have used this trip as a vacation for years. I wouldn't dream of taking that from you. There's no point anyway. I'll stay with Rachel and Teaspoon. I won't even go into town and it'll be fine."

Teaspoon nodded, "Besides, it's been three weeks since Elizabeth was killed. Could have just been a drifter who has long since moved on."

Kid nodded, and his eyes shifted to Carlos, "Are you sure you won't come with us? Seth could stay here and look after the mares. And Jamie's trained to treat them. It would get you away from Sweetwater for awhile."

Carlos, who'd never been popular in town because of his Mexican blood, was treated much worse now, after word of his bloody hands had leaked out somehow.

Carlos shook his head, "I won't run from these people, Senor McCloud. My job has always been here with the mares at foaling time. I'll stay."

Kid nodded and sighed, "Of course. And I'm glad of it, for selfish reasons, Carlos. I know the mares don't dare have complications with you around."

Jamie grinned and went up to pat his mother's knee, noticing how pretty she looked. Her long, dark hair was unbound and spilled around her shoulders, with an occasional silver strand catching the light and reflecting it. Her face was still as youthful as his father's, with only a few wrinkles at the corner of her eyes from squinting against the bright plain sun. The long rides and outdoors agreed with her, Jamie realized, she needed to be in the open, riding hard.

"You're beautiful, Mama," Jamie suddenly said, feeling three years old.

Lou glanced down at him in surprise, and lay a graceful hand on his head, leaning down to kiss him, "That's because I'm happy," she whispered to him with a white smile.

"Ride Safe," came the inevitable chorus from everyone on the ground as Kid, Lou, Seth, Buck, and a string of horses thundered out of the ranch, leaving an impressive cloud of dust behind.

"We can't go!" Rachel cried with conviction the next day with Rose and Jamie sitting at the table and watching the face off with Teaspoon with interest.

"I have to go! And so do you. Eleanor is sick, and George needs our help."

"We can't just leave Rose here! We promised Kid and Lou we'd look after her," Rachel pointed out, "Besides, don't you think you might be needed around here instead of minding some little homestead in Blue Creek?"

Teaspoon shrugged, "Maybe Rose should come with us. And John will look after things here."

Jamie couldn't stop the sarcastic snort that won him glares from both Rose and Teaspoon.

"No chance am I going! I met George Yardley once, and that was more than enough! That dirty old man…" Rose broke off when Teaspoon's steely eyes met hers, his brows raised. Nevertheless she set her jaw and thrust her chin out firmly, "I'm not going."

Teaspoon shook his head, "God, you look like him when you do that," Rose gathered he meant her father, "And far be it from me to try and talk any sense into a Hickok. But you'll stay in town, with Tompkins."

"But Teaspoon! If you're worried about my safety, why are you sending me to town where the murderer is? And Mrs. Thompkins is such a chore..." Rose reasoned.

"Because! Now if you don't stop your jawing, I'm gonna murder you myself! Jamie can come get you during the day if you want to work out here! But I want you in town and inside at nightfall!"

"I'm almost eighteen years old! You can't tell me what to do!" Rose thundered, standing up. Actually, she still had a good six months till she was eighteen, but she didn't bring that up then.

Jamie raised his eyebrows, and suddenly took great interest in his plate so he could hide his smile. These two could potentially put on quite a show.

Finally Jamie cleared his throat, "Teaspoon, what if I promised not to let Rose out of my sight? I will stay with her all day, every day, and Patrick, Carlos, and I will keep watch at night. It would make me uneasy for her to be in town, and I know you trust John to handle things, but I just don't and neither did my father. We'll be extra careful, I promise."

Teaspoon sighed. Jamie was his father's son and he knew that he was good at his word to watch Rose, probably more so than Tompkins. It was hard for him to realize Jamie was a man now...older than his own boys when they had been trusted with far more dangerous tasks. And Rose...well, she was her father's daughter and had more courage than men twice her age and always had.

"Damn it...how did you two grow up?"

Rose and Jamie both flushed with pleasure at this and Teaspoon was relieved to see them look like they did as kids again.

After Teaspoon and Rachel had left, agonizing worry on their faces, she and Jamie had come back to the ranch house, and Rose hated to feel indebted to Jamie for saving her from the Tompkins, but she did.

When she'd hesitantly thanked him he'd snorted. "You think I want to feed horses at dawn by myself? Besides, if any of the mares foal, we'll need all the hands we can get." He'd winked at her and she'd grinned and felt more easy with him than she had since the night of their party.

On the third night home alone with Jamie, Rose almost wished one of the mares would foal so she'd have an excuse to be up and about. She'd had more trouble sleeping than she let on since discovering Elizabeth. Nightmares had returned, punctuated with more graphic images of death, and in the last weeks she had woken many times a night, gasping, with her hand going to her throat, relieved to find it uncut. One particularly nasty one had startled her awake an hour ago and she'd not been able to return to sleep, though she felt exhausted by the hard work they were doing while short of hands with Kid, Lou, Buck and Seth at the horse sale.

Giving it up, Rose decided it would be more productive to go make herself some tea and read something than to lay and fight to find sleep that would not come. She pulled on a light cotton robe over her nightgown then quietly opened the door.

She stepped directly onto something soft, tried to correct herself too late, and pitched headfirst into the hallway floor.

A breathless "oooof" reached her ears over her own cry and she screamed when she realized that someone had been outside her door.

"It's me! Damn it, can you stop that shrieking, oh, God, my head!" Jamie growled, still sounding breathless.

"What the hell are you doing?" Rose snapped, pulling herself to a sitting position, untangling her limbs from his.

"Well I was sleeping, damn it, before you trampled me," he snapped.

"You nearly killed me! I hit my knee really hard on something!" Rose muttered, rubbing her knee cap tenderly.

"Yeah. That was my skull."

Rose, despite herself, giggled. "I knew you had a hard head, but didn't think it was made of solid rock. I think I'm lame, Jamie."

"Yeah, well, maybe we'll shoot you and put you out of our misery. Good lord, how much do you weigh? You stepped right on my stomach. I think you've done permanent damage to my organs."

Rose huffed indignantly and Jamie struggled to a sitting position.

Just then a light flared up at the bottom of the stairs, and Rose gasped and turned to look down them, relaxing when she saw Patrick on the landing, holding a candle and squinting up at them, hair sticking out at all angles over his head. She glanced down, saw his pile of blankets at the bottom of the stairs.

"What in God's name are you two doing?" Rose finally asked, seeing Jamie's bedroll and pillow stretched across her bedroom door threshold.

Patrick shifted restlessly, looking embarrassed and Jamie cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, I did promise Teaspoon to protect you…"

"Jamie...have you and Patrick been sleeping on the floor the last three nights?"

Jamie blushed furiously. His voice was sheepish. "It's just that we thought that this way, if anyone tried to get to you, they'd have to go through us first."

Rose felt everything in her soften as she looked at both of them, thinking of their silent and protective presence every night, keeping her safe, costing themselves peaceful rest and never saying a word about it to her.

Rose suddenly lurched forward to kiss Jamie briefly right on the lips and wrap her arms around his neck in a giant hug. Bewildered, he put his arms back around her, holding tightly, feeling her relax against him and wondering if it felt to her like she belonged there as much as it did to him.

"Hey, Lassie. I'm the first line of defense down here! Old Jamie boy would have time to run and hide by the time they got through me," Patrick pointed out.

Laughing, Rose stood and climbed down the stairs, grabbing hold of Patrick's shirt and kissing him soundly on the lips also.

"You are both too sweet for words, do you know that?" Rose finally said shaking her head.

And suddenly, she thought she might be able to sleep after all.

"Rose, it's none of my business, I know...but are you and John, sort of…well, are you still courting him?" Jamie asked Rose a few days later as he rode quietly beside her in town. It was twilight, and the air had cooled pleasantly, and they had both been infected with cabin fever and opted to eat supper in town, with the Tompkins of all people.

Rose shot him a sidelong glance, "No. He wasn't...I don't know...he's not what I thought he was…"

Jamie looked away and nodded. "He didn't...he didn't do anything untoward did he?"

"Well, yes, I guess he sort of did," Rose said and when Jamie stiffened, and looked over at her in outrage, she reached over and put a hand on his arm. "But I took care of it, so don't you go getting noble on me. A girl's heart can only handle so much rescuing, you know."

Jamie snorted. "Seems unlikely that you'll ever give me a chance to do the rescuing."

Rose started to comment when a loud scream from the other end of town cut her off, and she and Jamie exchanged a look of dread. Wordlessly, they rode side by side to the largest house in Sweetwater, the Mayor's home.

Rose blinked in shock when she saw what all the chaos was about. John Morgan was standing on the porch, blood freely flowing from a wound in his chest. A few inches higher, Rose thought, and the wound would have been a fatal one to the throat.

He wove unsteadily.

"John!" Rose screamed, jumping off her horse and elbowing through the crowd, Jamie close behind her, taking advantage of the path she cleared.

"Mrs. Baines," John gasped, clinging to the porch rail for support, "is dead. I-I heard her scream, but it was too late to save her, and he cut me and got away."

"Who?" Jamie asked as Rose ripped John's shirt sleeve and applied pressure to the bleeding wound, "Did you get a look at him?"

"I did," John gasped, wincing in pain and looked into Jamie's eyes with what was almost an apology.

Unable to say more, John Morgan passed out cold on the porch of the Mayor's house, where the Mayor's own wife was now the third victim of a ruthless predator that would soon have a name.

And from the growl rising from the citizens gathering in front of them, Jamie realized, they would have not only the killer's name, but his head.