A/N: Anyone who loves Griff will recall part of his backstory was meeting Candy in Montana, but it wasn't very fleshed out apart from a few comments about horses, snowbanks, and Billings. I couldn't find a reference to Griff's age during the show either, so I am working off the premise he was nineteen, which would make him seventeen here and still subject to his stepfather's authority. That does change his canon age when Candy knew him (he was 15 according to New Man) but the show didn't say how long it had been since they met. It could have been before season 9 or sometime during his disappearance in 12-13 which would make Griff anywhere from 18-21 in Riot. Also, Billings wasn't even formed until 1882 – big oops, screenwriters! –but I left it since it is canon. Entertainment only, you know the drill.

Early November, 1870, near Billings, Montana

"We can't have lost him already." Annie protested as she swatted loose hair out of her eyes. The biting wind stung her face and ruined her careful braid from that morning, but even worse was its destruction of "Troy Whitaker's" trail. "Only a week and a half behind," she swore under her breath and cast a dark glare at the swirling snow.

"If we're stuck, so is he," Candy noted evenly as he rode up on her left. "Storm's coming," he added with a glance up at the low-hanging grey clouds. "Be foolhardy to press on, can't clear my name if we freeze to death."

"I know that!" He raised a brow and Annie released a breath. "That witch would love to hear me snap like a mad dog." She looked around. "We're probably twenty miles from Billings by now."

"At least. The liveryman said I rode this way, so there's got to be something out here."

"Snow," she muttered dryly and Candy barked out a laugh.

"Prickly Pear City, Jefferson, Station, Boulder, Springville, Radersburg … all the way down to Bozeman. He could be headed for all of them or none of them." Annie was quiet for a moment.

"Do you think he lied to the waiter?"

"I wouldn't have told anyone where I was going." Candy looked back at the trail obscured by blowing snow. "But he definitely came this far."

"Any of those towns up ahead have a decent sized bank?"

"It's been a few years since I was up here, but I'd have to guess Boulder or Bozeman." He looked up at the sky again. "Right now, we need to find some shelter before those clouds unload on top of us."

"You recall any ranches nearby?"

"A couple." Candy frowned. "We headed out almost due south, shifted once to clear the ravine … the Bar N should be off that way about two or three miles." His lips twitched. "Old man Nichols can't lay claim to a thousand square miles, but he did pretty well for himself."

"What do we do if he remembers you?"

"He won't." His mouth twisted. "He can't be bothered to notice his hands unless something goes wrong."

"You didn't get blamed for anything while you worked there? I'm shocked."

"One of the few places I didn't get run off of."

"Why'd you leave?"

"I wanted a change of scenery." He laughed. "Two years later, I ran into Paiutes, lost my horse, and gained a family of Cartwrights."

"We'll get it back, Candy, all of it."

"I know." He glanced sideways, eyes twinkling. "But you can keep the Paiutes if it's all the same to you." They shared a laugh and Candy nudged his horse into motion. Annie followed, the stocky animals plowing a trail through the windswept snow ahead, their breath fogging in the chilly air. Montana was beautiful, Candy hadn't been wrong about that, she just wished they were here under happier circumstances. There was a wildness to the land that reminded her of home, bringing a wave of longing that settled in the pit of her stomach. "We're close to somebody's ranch," he called over a few minutes later with a nod at the milling cattle wandering along a frozen creek. "I think they're Bar N."

"They are." Annie nodded at the brand on the closest steer.

"Good." They crested a hill and reined the horses to a stop in surprise. In the valley below, a cow stood stubbornly buried in snow up to its neck while a kid on a scruffy bay struggled to pull it free.

"Come on, only a really stupid cow would walk into that gully, you all know it's there and you avoid it any other time." The kid tugged at the rope around the animal's neck. "Work with me." They traded looks and meandered down the hill, the sound of the horses alerting the kid he wasn't alone. His head came up, suspicion coloring his face. "Who are you?"

"Nobody important," Candy replied as they halted a few feet away. "Just passing through looking for our brother, he's calling himself Troy Whitaker. The liveryman in Billings said he rode this way."

"I ain't seen no one, mister." Annie sidled the pinto closer, noting how skinny the kid looked, his heavy coat hanging on his frame, ragged suspenders holding his britches up. Icy blue eyes focused on her and he touched the brim of his battered hat. "Ma'am."

"Mister?" Candy scoffed. "You can call us Andy and Sam. What's your name?"

"Griff," the kid said after a moment of thought. It wasn't lost on Annie that he didn't offer a last name, but then, neither had they.

"Need some help with that?" Candy nodded at the waiting cow and the kid shrugged. Her husband stepped down from his saddle and crouched beside the stuck animal. "There's a gully under all that snow?"

"A small one." Candy's brow furrowed.

"Well, we could pack the snow down under her front hooves and build a ramp, you see, then she could walk right out on her own."

"She ain't that smart," Griff muttered under his breath. "This one is clear dumb, raises dumb calves, too, at least that's what Hank says." A look crossed his face and his mouth snapped shut. Candy raised an eyebrow and she shrugged.

"Other option is we put all three lariats on her and haul her out sideways." He glanced up at the sky and held out a hand to catch the snow flakes beginning to drift down from the clouds. "I don't know about you, but I'd rather not be sitting out here babysitting a cow when it really starts snowing."

"Then go on, the bunkhouse is that way." Griff jerked a thumb over his shoulder. Annie resisted the urge to roll her eyes and shook out her lariat. Candy shook his head.

"Then you'd be stuck out here in the snow." He rose from his crouch and brushed snow off his pants. "Get stuck with the short straw today?"

"Something like that," the kid said after a heavy pause. "I don't really need help."

"We're offering anyway." Candy collected his lariat from the saddle and headed for the cow's hind end. "Sam, help me get these ropes underneath her." Annie swung down and hurried over. The animal was smart enough – or dumb enough depending on the point of view – to just stand there while they adjusted the ropes. The three of them mounted back up and tied the lariats to their saddle horns. "On three. One … two … three!" The horses heaved and the cow bawled. Several pulls later, she lay on her side in the trampled snow a few feet from the now visible gully. Candy raised a brow when she didn't immediately get to her feet. "What if we were a pack of wolves?"

"We'd have supper for a week," Annie said. "Unless –" She snapped her mouth shut on the name and corrected herself on the fly. "One of us happened to be starving or something."

"You don't know nothing about starving," Griff muttered under his breath, or at least, she thought that's what he'd said. His back was to her and the wind was picking up. He coiled his lariat and flapped it at the cow. "Go on, get along." The animal bawled once more and finally scrambled to her feet and ambled away. He turned to them, a wary look in his eyes, and a smile that didn't quite reach those blue orbs. "Thanks, mister."

"No problem." Candy turned his horse. "You said the bunkhouse is this way?"

"Yeah."

"Anybody going to object if we hole up until this storm blows over?"

"My step-father, but he doesn't have any say. Hank's the foreman."

"Mind if we ride in with you?"

"Ain't nobody stopping you." Griff mounted up and turned his scruffy bay. That animal certainly wouldn't have been in their remuda, but not every ranch could afford to be as choosy as the Ponderosa when it came to horses. Thoughts of Reno and Blue misted her eyes and she quickly wiped the moisture away.

It was a short ride to the ranch yard. They dismounted and led the horses into the barn, quickly untacking and settling the animals in dry stalls with oats and hay from the loft overhead. Griff led them to the bunkhouse and hurried inside, snow blowing in with them, eliciting angry shouts from the men bedded down closest to the door.

"The cows alright?" A stocky, bow legged man who looked to be about her pa's age crossed the room and looked Griff up and down.

"Yeah, that stupid one had herself stuck in a gully." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "They helped me get her out."

"Andy." Candy held out his hand. "This is Sam. We're up here looking for our brother, calls himself Troy Whitaker. Ran into some bad weather and we're hoping we could bunk down here until the storm blows over." The stocky fellow eyed Candy, then took his hand and shook it.

"Name's Hank. I'm the foreman of the Bar N. Long as you don't cause no trouble, I don't see a problem with you waiting out the storm."

"Much obliged." Hank indicated a couple of empty beds and they made their way down the length of the room, Annie noting they'd been placed farthest from the stove. No matter, they had their bedrolls and wool blankets, plus it was still decently warm even at this end of the room. As she passed by, a sour looking man with stringy hair and a scar on his cheek scowled at her and Candy. But mostly her, unless she was mistaken. He shifted that glare to Griff and she wondered if he was the boy's father. No, stepfather, she reminded herself.

"You letting strangers do your chores for you, boy?" The man spit on the floor. "Disgrace, that's what you are. No son of mine would behave that way." The boy's face colored, but none of the other hands said a word. It made Annie's blood boil, but there wasn't much of anything they could do. A man had the right to deal with his children as he saw fit. She knew her pa never would have acted like that, but Ben Cartwright wasn't every man in the country. From what little Candy had said, she knew his pa hadn't been that way either. Griff looked like he wanted to say something in reply, but must have thought better of it. He stalked off to his own bunk and shrugged out of his heavy coat, tossing it onto the small trunk at the foot of the bed. "You tear that coat up and you'll do without, boy," his stepfather sneered.

Candy's mouth thinned and he threw her a look she recognized all too well. They'd have to walk a very thin line on this one, but they could handle it. She was sure of that. What was one mean, overbearing stepfather compared to the likes of Sam Endicott?

The storm lingered and Annie was more than tired of sitting in the bunkhouse between chores. The hands had quickly abandoned their usual poker games when she and Candy proved too adept at winning, even though they were only playing for pieces of straw, not money. One of the most vocal losers turned out to be Griff's stepfather.

"Them two is cheating," he'd insisted after his last losing hand. The other players had rolled their eyes and ignored him, leaving Annie to believe he just wasn't as good at poker as he was at running his mouth. The look in his eyes had given her pause though; he'd pretty much avoided them after the games had stopped, but it didn't keep him from giving them dark looks when he thought no one else was watching.

She wanted to teach him a lesson, but it was far better for their sake she didn't do something they'd have cause to regret later. He wasn't Reno or Blue, but the pinto she'd basically stolen from her pa was still a link to the home she'd left behind, and Annie took to spending most of her time in the barn with the horses.

"I'd like to put a rope around that scrawny neck of his," she snarled under her breath and ducked under the pinto's neck to reach his off side. The gelding blew out a breath and cocked his hind hoof. "It's not our fault he's a lousy poker player."

"Or a lousy person in general," Candy remarked as he slipped past with a saddle he'd repaired for Hank. "I never would have treated Kenny …" he trailed off and they stared at each other over the pinto's back.

"Because you're a real man." She leaned against the animal's hip. "How are we going to help Griff?"

"I don't know yet." He rested the saddle, nose first, on the ground and braced himself on the stall door. "With the man being his stepfather, he's got legal rights we can't just ignore." She glanced around the barn, noted they were alone, and lowered her voice.

"You mean like I ignored the legalities of breaking a man out of jail?" He shrugged, a tiny glint appearing in his eyes.

"You could say that, I reckon."

"There were extenuating circumstances."

"There were." At least he could half joke about it now. As long as they didn't dig too deep. "So we're gonna do the wrong thing for the right reasons."

"Not the first time."

"And I bet it won't be the last."

"Not with my maiden name being Cartwright." His face fell and his hands clenched.

"Why did she have to lie?" Their eyes met and for one moment, she saw the pain he'd hidden for months, even from her. "How could she hate me that much?" His throat worked. "What did I ever do to her anyway?" A lump rose in her throat and her eyes misted. Annie dropped the brush and hurried around the horse to take him in her arms.

"She's just a spiteful old hag who delights in making people miserable. She couldn't land a Cartwright husband for her mousy daughter so she took it out on the whole town." Her grip tightened. "You heard McPhail, she's sleeping back of the livery stable because everyone hates her. Her husband divorced her for her lies. If that doesn't tell you how much Virginia City cares about you, I don't know what does."

"No, they hate what she drove you to do."

"Even if she hadn't lied, and they voted to hang you, I would have done it anyway." Candy choked on a half-laugh and brought his hand to her face, cradling her cheek.

"It would have been so much better for you if you hadn't fallen –"

"The only thing I regret is that it took so long to admit it to myself."

"I was afraid, too," he whispered. "To be honest, I still am. You know I'm not what your pa had in mind when he considered future husbands for his only daughter."

"We may share a name," she said softly, "but our fathers are nothing alike."

"I know that up here, but in –" The door creaked open, admitting a biting gust of wind and Griff. Candy stepped out of her embrace and picked up the saddle. The boy had his head down, giving Annie hope he hadn't noticed that their actions weren't entirely sibling-like. He dug a book out of his coat pocket and headed for his horse's stall, pausing a few feet away when he finally raised his head enough to notice them.

"Oh." He kicked at the dirt. "I didn't know anyone was in here. I'll go."

"It's not going to bother me if you sit over there and read." Griff colored and stuffed the volume back in his coat.

"I'm checking on my horse, ma'am, uh, miss."

"You can call me Sam."

"He'd tan my hide if he heard it."

"Suit yourself." Annie went back to brushing the pinto. Candy returned from the tack room and gave her a quick glance as he headed for the door.

"I'm going back to the bunkhouse, Sam." The door closed behind him before she could insist he stay. Annie wanted to sling the brush at him. She didn't know how to talk to kids, even mostly grown ones, and she guessed it came from being the youngest herself. If their pa had married a fourth time and had another child or two maybe it would have been easier. Just look how long it had taken her to warm up to Samantha, and that was her own cousin.

Griff took a step back and she rolled her eyes. "Go sit in the tack room and if your stepfather should happen to venture out in the storm I'll tell him you're oiling tack."

"He comes in there, ma'am, he'll see I'm not."

"Then set a can of oil and a rag next to a saddle and use it every few pages." Lord knew Adam had done much the same enough times their pa had forbidden him to take a book anywhere near the barn. Griff blinked at her and a laugh escaped.

"You always read when you're supposed to be cleaning tack?"

"My brother. It drove Pa up the wall sometimes."

"Andy?" Griff glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the bunkhouse. "He don't seem like the type."

"The other brother."

"The one you're searching for?" Annie nodded. "Huh." Griff rocked on his heels, suddenly looking younger than he was. "Why you looking for him?"

"He left home a long time ago, the ranch wasn't enough for him."

"I bet your pa was mad."

"Sad," she corrected, and went back to brushing the pinto while they talked. "I take it he would be mad if you were to up and leave before you were legally an adult?"

"He'd be mad even if I was an adult. Even though …" Griff looked away and swallowed hard. "You … you uh … ever think your pa didn't like that you was a girl?"

"No. Why?"

"He … he didn't want me," Griff finally said in a small voice. "Just my ma. And after she died … he turned mean. Said it was my fault."

"Did you shoot her? Poison her? Lock her outside in the middle of winter?"

"No!"

"Then it wasn't your fault. Grief can make people do strange things."

"That man's never grieved. He lost a possession and it made him look bad, like he couldn't take proper care of what was his." Griff drew in a breath.

"And of course we can't have that."

"He thinks he's gonna be some big rancher, sweet-talked Ma in marrying him, then couldn't even hang onto what little we had."

"Poker tables?"

"No." Griff shook his head. "Don't know nothing about hard work. He told Ma he was born on some plantation in the Carolinas, never had to do a thing for himself until after the War when he ended up out here drifting."

"He doesn't sound Southern."

"Lying's about the only thing he's good at, but even then he messes up," Griff said with amusement. "The fellas know he ain't southern – old Cade, the guy down right next to you and your brother is from Georgia – but if they called him on it he'd turn mean, cause trouble."

"He do that often?"

"That's his only other talent." He worried his lower lip. "You and your brother been all around, huh? Seen many places?" Annie nodded.

"Far south as Mexico. Been to St. Louis, out to California, down to the territories. Went all through Texas."

"Wish I could just ride around like that."

"We're not riding for fun, Griff."

"Still, you've been somewhere." He absently stroked his horse's face when the animal pushed its head over the half door. "He's my legal father and I can't go anywhere less he says I can. He even gets my pay every two weeks in addition to his."

"He won't have any say once you come of age."

"Four years that might as well be forty. He –" The door flew open and Griff's stepfather rushed in.

"Damnation it's cold. What are you doing out here, boy? If you're bothering her, I'll tan your hide. Get some more wood for the stove, and be quick about it." Griff hid a scowl and darted outside. The man's dark eyes latched onto her. "Won't bother me none if you was to hit him, the little welp is useless and no real son of mine, he came with the woman I wanted and I had to tolerate him." He perused her frame from head to toe and back. "You're a right pretty woman yourself. Surely you must be tired of dragging across the country with your brother."

"On the contrary," Annie said, her tone full of ice. "I love it." Not completely a lie, after all. She did love being with Candy and seeing new places together, but the reason for their trek could never be tucked away and forgotten.

"You can't be serious, a pretty thing like you? You must want a home of your own and children playing at your feet."

"It won't be yours." Candy's voice was like steel dipped in fire. He slipped through the barn door and leaned against the wall, arms loosely folded across his chest. "You get near my sister again and you'll have cause to regret it."

"You threatening me?"

"No." Candy's smile was deadly. "That's a promise." Annie left the pinto's stall and made her way to Candy. Griff's stepfather sneered.

"You're nothing but a couple of drifters, she ought to be glad I even looked at her." Candy moved before she could blink, driving a hard right straight into the man's jaw, sending him to the floor. He groaned and rolled over. She drew her hideout Derringer and cocked it, freezing him in his tracks.

"Be glad I didn't shoot," she hissed. "Though I still might." They slipped out the door into the yard. Candy's hands fisted and he slipped an arm around her waist for a brief second.

"God help me, I wanted to kill him."

"They can only hang us once," she murmured softly and he chuckled under his breath, despite the situation.

"I ever tell you how much I love you," he said just as quietly and she smiled back. One quick glance, and it was decided how they'd play it. She and Candy could handle themselves. The man was mad enough without adding whatever punishment the foreman would surely dole out if he knew what had been said.

They returned to their bunks and took out a deck of cards for two-handed solitaire. "If you ask us to join in, the answer is no," Cade drawled. "If we'd been playing for money, we'd all be broke till the spring thaw." The rest of the hands laughed.

There was a clatter at the door and everyone turned to see Griff staggering in loaded down with wood for the stove, sporting a bruise on his face that hadn't been there when he'd left the barn. He ignored them all and began to stack the wood, his face red. Looks were traded and Hank's face darkened. "Why'd he hit you this time, kid?"

"I slipped on the ice."

"Sure you did," another hand spit.

"If it weren't for you, I'd ask Mr. Nichols to send him on down the road and good riddance to the likes of Jim Sullivan."

"At least if you did, I'd get to see somewhere else," Griff said over his shoulder, which brought a few laughs.

"Why do you always got to try and find a silver lining?"

"Nothing else I can do," he said with a shrug, and stood up, brushing past them all to throw himself on his bunk, his back to the room. Candy's eyebrows rose and she knew he was regretting hitting the man only once.

Fair enough; she regretted not shooting.

"You ever think about leaving?" Candy glanced sideways at Griff as the three of them rode through the snow to check on the cattle the next morning, Hank reporting the boss had insisted the animals be checked, no matter the weather. Of course his stepfather had "volunteered" Griff for the job. She and Candy had ridden out with him, not wanting to miss their chance despite the bad weather.

"Yeah, sure. I make so much money after all, I can just travel all I want." Candy rolled his eyes.

"I'm serious, Griff."

"So am I. I told your sister he keeps my pay, there ain't nothing I can do until I'm of age." Their gazes locked, a question rising, and she nodded.

"What if you had the money," Candy pressed.

"He'd come after me and drag me back, he's got the law on his side."

"What if he couldn't find you?"

"Ain't no one got that much money. He may hate me, but I belong to him and he won't tolerate losing anything that's his. He has to be the one to throw it away." Griff shook his head. "Why you bothering with me anyway?"

"We hate to see injustice." The kid snorted.

"Open your eyes, it's all around you." He suddenly stopped his horse on the rise. "I don't believe it." They followed his gaze and found the same cow neck deep in the same gully as before. Candy shook his head on a laugh.

"Let's get her out of there so we can do this again tomorrow." He dismounted, already shaking out his lariat, and roped the animal. The cow bawled pitifully and Griff rolled his eyes.

"Dumb as can be." Candy snorted and accepted the kid's lariat, then trudged through the snow back to the stranded cow. The wind blew a blizzard of flakes into her face and she worked to clear her eyes. The pinto tensed and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Annie looked up as Candy's chestnut neighed sharply and danced in place. Griff's mount neighed and backed up while the kid fought to control it.

Time seemed to stop as she took in the rail-thin, injured wolf standing at the edge of the tree line, one hind leg dangling, mere feet from Candy's unprotected back –

"Candy!" Her hand was at her pistol even as she kicked the pinto into a full gallop from a dead stop, charging forward to put something – anything – between her husband and the starving wolf. What if it was mad? Candy spun around, his hand going for his gun, as she shot past, firing like a madwoman.

"Annie!" The wolf snarled, but didn't retreat, hunger getting the best of its instincts. Or was it mad? She fired again and it jumped aside. The pinto neighed and danced on its hooves like a cutting horse, ducking and spinning to evade the snarling beast as it dodged her shots and darted in close. The pinto kicked out and the wolf leaped back. A gun roared and the animal yelped, then collapsed on its side, blood soaking into the snow. Then Candy was there, pulling her off the horse and hugging her close. "Don't ever do that again." His heart was racing against her chest. "I can't lose you."

"I can't lose you," she whispered back, her arms going around his neck. Adrenaline faded and reason returned, along with the certain knowledge that they were done for. She looked over Candy's shoulder and found Griff staring at them. Blood draining from her face, she nudged Candy and he turned, his own face going pale. They'd done it now.

"I'm guessing you two ain't brother and sister," the kid said after the longest moment of silence Annie could remember sitting through. And with the brothers she'd had, there had been plenty over the years.

"You never hugged your sister after a life or death situation?" Candy's tone was light, but the hard jerk of his throat said it all.

"I probably would have, if I'd had one, but …" he coughed and rubbed the back of his neck, his face flushing. "The storekeeper hugged his wife just like that after she almost got crushed by a runaway wagon. And uh … Annie ain't nowhere close to Sam." Candy sighed and slipped an arm around her waist and looked up at the sky through the swirling flakes.

"Doubt they would have heard the shots, we're a few miles from the house and with the storm … let's get this cow out of the gully, then we'll explain."

"If you think you need to." Griff rode over, picked up the trailing end of a lariat and tied it to his saddle horn. Candy plucked her lariat off the saddle behind her and went to loop it around the cow, then mounted back up, passing her the tail of the third rope. Together, they hauled the animal free, then watched as she ambled off, seemingly without a care in the world. Candy sighed again and turned his horse.

"Might as well check for others, good a cover as any." She tucked in along his right side, leaving Griff to take the left. "We're not brother and sister," he said at last. "Not even cousins. We've known each other for three years now, but it feels like a lifetime. The short of it is I was accused of murder, and convicted by lies. She busted me out."

"You're not tracking a long-lost brother, are you," Griff asked after another moment of silence.

"No," Annie said. "We have to catch the real killer if we're ever gonna be able to go home."

"What if you can't?"

"Then we keep on riding until we find someplace to hide for a lifetime." Her chest tightened at the pain in his voice. Just when he'd finally found a place to call home … what possible plan could there be? She knew Padre Javier believed there was one, but she certainly couldn't see it.

"He'd turn you in if he knew."

"His mistake," Annie said, ice cloaking every word. Unbidden, her mind flew back to a mountain trail down in New Mexico and her stomach churned. They'd given those bounty hunters every chance to ride away … there was no other option after that, not if they wanted to live. Survival meant making hard choices, and they'd do what they had to do and figure out how to live with the blood on their hands and the haunted memories later.

"You know …" Griff mused, "I'm not sure if that's the luckiest cow in the state or you're the unluckiest fella there is." Candy frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"If you weren't there, she'd have been eaten, but if she hadn't been there, the wolf wouldn't have been there." Griff adjusted his hat against the wind. "You ever think about things like that?"

"No, can't say as I have." Candy turned his collar higher against the blowing snow. "How about you think on that offer?"

"He'd come after me." Griff sighed. "But it sure does sound nice."

"What if he thought it was his idea for you to leave?" Annie nudged her horse closer. "You said he had to be the one to throw something away."

"If I made him mad enough to think that, he'd just beat me till I learned my lesson. He's done it before." Her gut soured and she wanted to drag Jim Sullivan behind a galloping horse until he begged for mercy. Griff's comment effectively ended the conversation and they resumed the ride in silence.

She couldn't sleep that night and slipped outside wrapped in her coat. Annie leaned back against the bunkhouse and stared at the dark sky, the snow finally stopped, the landscape pristine and crisp. Her breath fogged in the chilly air.

There had to be a way to get Griff out from under his stepfather's thumb. No kid deserved a life like that. But what could they do? The man was his legal father and had complete control until Griff turned twenty-one. They could give him money and a head start, but there were no guarantees they could keep the man off Griff's trail for four more years. They could send him to the Ponderosa … she was sure her pa would help him … but if Jim Sullivan showed up demanding his son …

Or they could take him with them … his presence could make them seem less suspicious because who'd take a kid along when running from the law? But what would they do when they caught up to "Troy Whitaker?" Griff could get hurt in the cross-fire. And she knew there would be cross-fire; whoever that fellow really was, he wouldn't go down without a fight.

"Thinking?"

"Hm." She glanced over her shoulder as Candy approached, still buttoning his coat. Together, they stared up at the stars glittering like tears in the pitch black sky. She wanted to rest her head on his shoulder, but anyone else could wake up and come outside, or even just look through the window to see why they weren't asleep, and then the cat would be out of the bag.

"Pretty."

"Yeah."

"Not as pretty as you." His fingers curled around her hand. "I can still see you that first night we met. You had on that green shirt that matched your eyes and the tan coat like your pa's. Didn't it get ripped next branding season?"

"How do you remember that?"

"I always remember what's important." He chuckled under his breath. "It was a lot like tonight, except for the snow, of course."

"Of course."

"A blanket of stars … the half moon –"

"Paiutes on the warpath. And I thought it was a full moon."

"Maybe it was." Candy frowned, then shrugged. "I remember the little smile you gave me over the barrel of that Colt. I thought he was joshing when he said someone else knew I'd come in. I was so careful, cause I wanted to surprise everyone, and there you were, sitting like a mountain lion ready to pounce."

"I thought you were gonna take off after you killed that brave and took his horse." She glanced over her shoulder, but there was no sign that anyone had woken. "I knew you were fibbing about why you came back. You do your best work alone."

"I think I came back because of you," he said softly, and she snorted.

"No."

"I started to leave, and you're right, I could have made it alone. But I couldn't get that smirk out of my head. All the towns, all the forts … every lonely trail … you were the first woman I ever met that took my attitude and threw it right back to me. Every comment I made, you had a smart answer for that sounded like something I would have come up with. The whole time I was searching for that horse, I wasn't thinking about Paiutes overwhelming the detail, I was thinking about how long it had been since someone looked at me without judging me. I guess I came back because I dared to hope I might actually find a friend."

"You found more than that," Annie said, a lump choking her.

"I found everything I'd never dared to dream about."

"We'll get it back."

"Even if we can't, I'll never regret turning around," he whispered. "If I'd kept riding that night, God only knows where I'd be now. Probably hung at Olympus." A shudder ran down her spine and he squeezed her hand. They stood in silence a moment before he drew in a breath. "A or B?" She thought a moment or two, then made her decision.

"A."

The next morning, there was no sign of the storm returning, or a new one spilling down more snow, so Candy made sure to let it be known they were riding out after breakfast. Griff joined them in the barn as they were saddling up.

"I wish I could," he confessed. "But I'd just make a world of trouble for myself." Annie slipped a small stack of bills from her saddlebags and handed it to Griff.

"Hide it. And when you're twenty-one, head for Nevada, to the Ponderosa. It's outside Virginia City, Ben Cartwright is the owner, he'll give you a job if you tell him who sent you."

"I can't take your money."

"We'll be fine, a couple hundred dollars isn't going to break us." Griff pushed it back.

"There ain't nowhere I could try and hide it that he wouldn't find, then he'd beat me for not giving it to him."

"Like to see him try that on someone who can fight back." Annie slipped the bridle over the pinto's ears and buckled the throat latch. "I'm ready."

"Same here." Candy led the chestnut from the stall and shook Griff's hand. "I hope we'll see each other again someday."

"Yeah." The poor kid looked so lost, wanting to leave, but too afraid to try. This had to work, God only knew what would happen otherwise. His stepfather could go too far one day and hurt him really bad or even kill him. And if Griff couldn't take it anymore and fought back … a shudder ran down her spine.

He'd end up in jail or hung.

They mounted up and rode out, Hank and the others calling good-bye and good luck. Jim Sullivan didn't say a word, only glared as they rode by. She could feel the weight of it on her back. They turned the horses due south and picked up a trot.

"We're gonna be easy to track with all this snow," Candy said a mile later.

"Can't be helped. After hearing all that, I half want that louse to come after us."

"He will, sweetheart, he will." They rode as far as the gully and took up a position just inside the tree line, watching and waiting. "Just hope Griff doesn't take too long."

"He'll 'volunteer' him soon enough." Annie adjusted her hat. "I give it a day, maybe two."

It wasn't even half that long before Candy whistled softly and she turned the pinto around to rejoin him after yet another endless loop to keep warm. He tipped his chin at the trail down below and she followed his gaze and shook her head slowly at the sight of Griff following their tracks. "Looks like we were right." Candy shrugged deeper into his coat. "At least he didn't make us wait." They roused their horses and rode out of the trees. "Looking for something?" The kid started and gave them a wild-eyed look. "We offered the money for a reason. I hope you didn't take anything from your stepfather."

"I ain't that stupid even if he had anything left, which he doesn't. Spends it all on liquor and women." Candy hummed agreement and glanced off at the horizon.

"Decided you're coming, huh?"

"Unless you've changed your mind." In that moment, Griff looked younger than his seventeen years.

"Now why would we go and do that?" Annie snorted and turned her horse. "Let's go, we've got to put some daylight between us and the Bar N. I presume they're not expecting you back until tonight?"

"No. But … but what do we do when he catches us?"

"I'd like to see him try and beat someone who can and will whip his ass. Hold on to your hat, kid, we're going to Boulder."

"Can I ask you something?" Griff's voice was soft. Annie cracked her eyes open and peered at the kid sitting next to Candy, a steaming mug of coffee clutched in his hands. Riding through the night held merit, but her husband had pointed out that they didn't know the terrain and with the deep snow, they could stumble into a gully or a frozen river without realizing it until too late. Or ride right over a cliff, but he was too polite to mention that. They'd ridden until darkness fell, then set up camp near a rocky outcropping that would block the wind from the north and reflect the fire's heat.

"Sure." Candy sipped at his own coffee. "What's on your mind?"

"Why? You know he's gonna come after us."

"We can handle him. As to why …" he shrugged. "Sometimes you just get a feeling you need to do something."

"She your wife?"

"Yes." The happiness in his voice was unmistakable and Annie smiled to herself. While she wished he would come to bed, the poor kid needed someone he could talk to without fear of being hit.

"How long?"

"May."

"Before … or after …?"

"She wouldn't admit it to herself until she almost lost me forever – her words, mind you." He glanced her way, but she didn't think he noticed she was watching. "I told her I could have gotten out of that cell myself, but the truth is …" his voice lowered. "I don't know if I could have, not with a busted leg. If I hadn't of gone with her, I'd have been hung at noon the next day. And she would have had to stand there and watch." Candy tossed the last of his coffee to the ground. "Now we have to find the fella who really did it, and somehow get the law to believe us."

"What if they don't?"

"Then we've got a world of trouble." Candy stretched. "Get some sleep, Griff. We've got a long ride ahead of us. Don't you worry, your stepfather isn't gonna be half the problem you think he is." He squeezed the kid's shoulder and made his way to the bedroll they'd have to share since Griff hadn't planned far enough ahead to bring one of his own.

Not that she was complaining.

Candy snuggled in beside her and she offered him a smile. He smiled back but it didn't reach his eyes. "Don't," she whispered, and reached up to brush her fingers over his cheek. "We'll make it."

"I'm afraid it'll take so long you'll never see your pa again," he said hoarsely.

"I made the only choice I could live with." He didn't reply, only wrapped her in his arms and burrowed into the bedroll. She laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, the gentle thump of his heart under her ear soothing in a way that nothing else was. She'd never regret her choice that day, and maybe after enough time passed he'd finally realize that. How could he not see what a good man he was? She drifted off to sleep, dreaming of a time when they no longer had to run.

"I'm thinking we'll send you into Boulder first," Candy said as he drank his coffee. "Considering this fella has already robbed at least one bank and killed at least two men, it would be better to know what we're riding into ahead of time. The last thing we need is to walk into the aftermath of another robbery."

"How am I going to know him if I see him?" Griff downed a swallow of his coffee, perhaps a tad too fast. Annie noticed he grimaced a little as the hot liquid reached his mouth.

"Near as we can figure, he could be my twin. I was in a different town when everything happened, but the witnesses claimed it was me without a speck of doubt."

"If he is in Boulder, what do we do?"

"We follow him out of town, hog-tie him, and haul him back to face justice." Annie tossed out the last of her coffee and rinsed the cup with snow. "Let's get the horses saddled and ride." She tucked her cup in her saddlebags and slung them over her shoulder, then moved to grab her saddle.

Ice cold wetness smacked into her shoulder, chunks of snow slid under her collar and rolled down her neck, raising goosebumps on her skin. She dropped her gear and spun around, hands on hips. Candy stared back innocently while pointing at Griff, who pointed at him. Her eyes narrowed, but neither one slipped up. "What was that for?"

"You and your brothers never had a snowball fight?" Candy's tone was decidedly innocent, but the quick glance he shot Griff was telling. Annie wanted to scream. They didn't have time to play games, they needed to catch the real killer before someone else got him and the opportunity for justice was lost forever. "Come on, a couple hourse late into Boulder isn't going to cost us that much. He can't go any faster than we can after all."

"Of course we did." She bent and scooped up a handful of snow. "I always won." She flung the snow at her husband and caught him in the face, leaving him spitting snow and laughter as he scrambled to collect more ammunition. Griff looked like he didn't quite know how to take the sudden shift in tone, so she enlightened him by pitching another snowball at his chest. The teenager hesitated a few seconds longer, during which time Candy hit him with two more snowballs, before he finally dove to the ground, scraping snow into hastily-shaped balls.

If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine it was Joe instead of Griff and they were all back on the Ponderosa.

Another snowball broke apart and slid down her neck, the sudden chill reminding her of more than her location. Joe likely wouldn't ever play like this again, not after what she'd done. He may not even speak to her when they finally could go home. If he hadn't tried to stop her, she wouldn't have done it. But he hadn't listened, convinced she wasn't thinking straight. She'd never been thinking straighter in her life.

She pitched another round at Candy and laughed when he squirmed as cold, wet snow slid down his chest. She had Candy, they had a plan, and if Joe never understood her reasons, well, that was alright, too.