Author's Note: This chapter contains elements of intense action and violence. Reader discretion is advised (don't read this before bed if you're prone to nervousness).

The rickety wagon careened along a steep mountain trail, each jolt and bump driving pain into the bound arms and shoulders of Jenny and Helen Bouchard. The two women rode side by side behind their captor, who sat hunched on a box seat, lurching forward toward their destination and goading a team of two horses up the craggy way. In the darkness, Jenny wriggled out of her gag to where she was able to talk and, more importantly, to distract the wagon driver.

"Where are you taking us!" she said to the surprised wagoner.

Martyn turned his head to see Jenny's frightened eyes staring back at him.

"What the-" He glanced next to her and saw Helen was still bound. He smirked, figuring as long as they remained securely tied, it made no difference if they'd speak. There was no one there to hear them. "Some place you can disappear."

"Wh-What do you mean disappear?" she asked, knowing full well what he meant but desiring to keep him preoccupied. She scooted toward Helen and tapped her mother's arm with her fingers, then motioned for her to roll over on her side.

"I don't think I really need to explain myself," he said, staring forward.

Once Helen was on her side, Jenny rolled to her own side so they were back-to-back. From that vantage, she knew she could get her mother untied and then herself. A jump to the dirt road below would be a risk they'd have to take since there was no question in her mind that he was leading them both to their death.

"You'll never get by with it! My father and my brother will come for us!" she said, forcing a finger into the knot on Helen's rope and trying to maneuver it loose.

"Ha! Your father's an incompetent old man. He couldn't even stop Fontaine! May he rest in Hell."

Helen gasped at the news Claude was dead. She had cut things off with him, but it shocked her he'd been murdered.

"And as for that brother of yours, old Solomon may have been no match, but trust me, that kid would rue the day when he took me on."

Jenny furrowed her brow. "Solomon? What…what does he have to do with this?"

Martyn half turned his head backward. "Oh! You didn't hear? That sweet big brother of yours is a cold-blooded killer. Beat that old man to death right there in the Queen of Hearts."

"I don't believe it!" Jenny said, unable to imagine such a thing was possible. "My brother is good!"

Martyn laughed. "What is it Shakespeare said? The only good man is a dead one? Maybe I'll go for him next."

"No!" Jenny shouted.

He laughed again. "Don't worry. I have no intention of going after Lucas. He did me a favor when he took care of Drake. They say he snapped because he remembered Drake's face from the day you were kidnapped. The day you should have died."

Jenny turned over toward Helen with surprise in her eyes, and her mother nodded her head that it was true.

"You know that little whipper-snapper kept the force tied up for days in the middle of an important investigation over our police chief's death. Seems Lucas remembered seeing old Drake from when he worked for your father. I was glad Solomon had disappeared, assuming he'd killed you. If they'd ever found him, that coward would have gladly ratted me out. I used my personal influence to redirect the forces' focus after your clothes were found. I suspected something was off but didn't think he'd have kept you alive. It surprised me when he did.

As for Lucas, he turned out pretty well, all things considered. But down deep, he's a troubled soul, and it's all over you."

Jenny closed her eyes, her heart aching for the anguish this man had put her entire family through.

At the next curve, a particularly steep incline caused Jenny to roll into her mother. The momentum painfully twisted Jenny's finger, but it was enough to loosen Helen's rope and set her free. Jenny rolled to her stomach, expecting the elder Bouchard to return the favor and untie her, but instead, Helen stood to her feet, taking the rope she had and lunging at Martyn. Before he knew it, the rope was around his neck.

"The pain you've caused!" Helen screamed.

Martyn grabbed at the reins, jerking them hard and unevenly and causing the wagon to swerve violently. Being pulled backward by the petite but mighty force, he flailed his arms to catch himself and then let go of the reins altogether. Moments later, the wagon crashed into an embankment, causing it to flip to its side and sending Helen, Martyn, and Jenny flying through the air. An eerie silence filled the air with nothing but the sound of a spinning wagon wheel and the crack of tree limbs being heard on the ground.

Shaking herself out of a daze, Jenny tried to sit up, her shoulder and arm hurting fiercely. Still, she knew she had to move. She had to get to safety. She and her mother, her very own mother, had to break away.

After several agonizing attempts, she raised herself up and looked around, finally spotting a heap several feet away. Even in the darkness, she could see her mother's blue skirt bunched up around her hips, her stockinged legs twisted beneath her, and bleeding. She wasn't moving.

"Mother?" Jenny said, receiving no indication of life. Tears filled her eyes, and she rolled to her knees, finally standing and walking to where Helen lay.

Helen's hair rested over her forehead, and Jenny quickly brushed it away. A trickle of blood mingled with soil was above her brow.

"Oh, Mother!" Jenny said, reaching for her own shirt and tearing off a strip of fabric to wipe the blood away. She had no sooner done it when she felt a painful tug at the back of her head. Marty had grabbed her by the hair and was now dragging her toward a horse he had freed from the wagon.

"Move!" he said, gun drawn as he pushed her away from Helen.

"But my mother!" she protested.

"I'll come for her later. Don't worry; if she's still alive, I'll see that her death is swift. Now climb up there and stop your talking."

Martyn pushed a gun barrel into her side, and she obeyed his order. Despair threatened to creep into her heart. She was going to die. No. She was going to live. Somehow.

"Constable Grant, you must listen to me!"

Nathan looked at the cell where Martin Bouchard stood at the bars. "We have a man dead, Mr. Bouchard. A man you threatened to kill in front of witnesses. And the last name on his lips was your own. Maybe save your words for your attorney while I figure this out."

"But I haven't seen Fontaine this evening. Grant, you need to release me this minute! My wife's and daughter's lives are at stake, and my son is alone out looking for them."

Grant furrowed his brow. "Lucas?"

"Yes. Lucas and I followed a trail of rocks to the stables, and when we got there, we found the barn was a mess - as if a struggle had taken place. We found a strand of blond hair, which I am sure belongs to Helen, and a drop of blood."

"You found blood?" Nathan stood and walked to the cell. "Alright, I'm listening. Maybe start at the beginning."

Exasperated that they were wasting time, Martin hurried through his story from when he had left the Queen of Hearts until the time that Lucas left. "And if that isn't enough to make you believe me, here is Jenny's locket." Bouchard held it by the chain, his arm reaching out through the bars. Nathan took the necklace and examined it closely.

"It's Thomas Martyn, Constable, not me. He's the only possible suspect. He was there with us, and he heard Lucas tell the story about Hansel and Gretel. Don't you remember? Lucas told us about leaving a trail of rocks for Jenny to find. Martyn was there to hear it. He set a trap for her. I didn't kill Claude; he did."

Martyn. Nathan thought. Fontaine's last words were 'find Martin' or was it Martyn? But he left town – or did he? Grant went with his gut and quickly opened the cell door. "I'm taking your word on this... for now. Let's get to the saloon."

Both men hurried down the street and into the party, which had grown quiet with the Bouchards all absent.

"I need everyone's attention," Nathan said loudly, all eyes immediately turning in his direction. "We have had an incident, and Helen Bouchard has gone missing and perhaps has been kidnapped."

"Kidnapped!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

We need every available man to help us look for her."

Gasps and murmurs were heard around the room as many of the men stepped forward. At the same time, Elizabeth rushed toward the men, looking from Grant to Martin. "Nathan, where is Lucas?"

Martin placed his hand on her upper arm. "Lucas has gone out looking for Helen and Jenny."

"Jenny?"

"I found her locket in the barn where we believe Helen was taken. We think they have both been captured."

"Oh, my goodness! Nathan, he could be in danger! I want to go with you."

"I'm sorry, I can't allow that," Nathan said. "Elizabeth, this guy is dangerous, and we have to keep our wits about us. You could possibly be in the way."

"I wouldn't!" she said.

"I can't take that risk," Nathan replied.

"Elizabeth," Rosemary said as she walked up, overhearing the last of the conversation. "I really think you need to stay here. Think about Jack."

Elizabeth lowered her eyes as she realized the risk she'd be taking if she went and considered the possibility of leaving her son an orphan.

"Listen, we ladies will all stay with you, and we can pray for everyone's safety," Minnie suggested, now standing by her side.

Nodding her agreement, Elizabeth followed as Rosemary led her over to a group of women who immediately began comforting her.

Meanwhile, Nathan gave the instructions. "Alright, men, we need to split into a couple of groups. Please make sure each group has at least one weapon with them. Meet me in five minutes outside the Dr. Carter's office."

Running out the door, he hurried to the infirmary to find Faith, who had retreated to her office after Fontaine's body had been brought there. Entering the building, he quickly explained the situation. "I need you to get your bag and some supplies, and I'll have your wagon prepared. Mike will ride with you. Stay far behind the posse and be ready for casualties."

The doctor immediately went into action and grabbed her bag, checking the items inside and adding extra gauze. She didn't know what to expect and had to be ready. Looking around briefly, she ran out the door.

Lucas ducked his head as Sergeant sped through the forest, taking a shortcut to the main trail to Reid's Lake. When, at last, they rejoined the main path, the horse did so with a leap over some hedges and onto the soil, and the pair flew through the air. Lucas directed the horse through the turnoff and a heavily wooden area. And they galloped, blazing a trail toward the lake, a chill night air surrounding them.

As they traveled, Lucas was thankful that Sergeant's night vision was excellent because, with the thickening cloud cover, it was becoming more difficult for him to tell where they were going. But the former Mountie Horse seemed to know.

They traversed along the winding road, then through a sharp bend, and were just about to make their way to a clearing when Sergeant suddenly stopped. Lucas flew forward, nearly being flung off the horse, who halted just before he would hit some wreckage. Lucas dismounted and, in the shadow of the night, could see another equine standing up ahead. He walked along the edge, looking around for signs of life.

"Hello?" he said, unsure of what he was looking at.

Seconds later, he heard the pained sound of his mother. "Lucas?"

His heart sped up. "Mother, where are you?"

He kept walking and then heard her again. "Over here."

Lucas looked in her direction, but the darkness was so deep that he couldn't see her until a sliver of moon pierced the clouds. "Mother!"

Lucas rushed to Helen's side as she tried to sit up. "Mother, are you alright? Are you hurt?"

"I – I think I'm okay," she replied. "Don't worry about me. Your sister! I saw her!"

"I know," Lucas said. "Father and I were in the barn. We saw the disruption. Do you think you can stand? I'll put you on that horse."

"I, I think so," she said, allowing her son to help her up. She began to swoon, but Lucas caught her.

"Are you okay?"

"I…I feel dizzy."

He paused for a moment, then nodded once. "Stay right here. Hold on to Sergeant."

Helen leaned against the horse while Lucas used the heel of his boot to kick at the wagon, finally tilting it such that it was upright. The axle was broken, so there would be no riding in it, but it would protect her for now.

Suddenly, Helen felt herself being swooped up in her son's strong arms. He carried her to the seat.

"What are you doing?"

Placing her on top, he saw she was secure. "Father is bringing Nathan. They should be here any minute. I'm going to get Jenny."

"Oh, Lucas!" Just then, an animal howled in the distance, and Helen's eyes widened. Sensing her fright, he reached for his belt and pulled out a dagger. "It's just a coyote. Sounds like he's a way away. You should be okay where you sit, but just in case, here's some protection," he handed her the knife. "They're more afraid of you than you are of them, so if one comes around, make some noise."

"Noise?"

"Yes. Yell. Kick at the wood. Sing. Clap your hands. The men should be here soon." He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "I must be off. I love you!"

"Bring her back safely – and yourself too," Helen said as Lucas mounted his steed.

With a gentle prodding, he was off.

Too late for him to hear, Helen looked toward where he had been. "I love you, too. Be safe, my boy," she said, a tear rolling down her mother's cheek. She listened to some frogs chirping in the evening air. Suddenly, an owl howled above, and Helen started stomping. "La-la-la-la-laaaaaa…" she said in frightened tones.

Looking around as the horse came to a stop, Jenny surveyed the terrain with uncertainty. Where are we? she thought. The area was secluded, and the night sky was mostly overcast, so she couldn't see anything clearly. She felt more than saw her captor untie the rope on her ankles. "Come on! You have been more trouble than you are worth, but soon, I won't have to worry about that anymore." Martyn's words concerned her, but his hard grip on her arm as he dragged her off the horse was terrifying.

Please, God, send my brother to rescue me. I'm not ready to die yet; she prayed silently as she tried to walk as she was hauled towards a small building. Opening the door, he shoved her inside and came in behind, lighting a lantern that he must have placed there beforehand.

"Sit! Over there!" he commanded, pointing with a handgun to the corner.

Complying, Jenny decided to try and make conversation. "What do you plan on doing to me?" she asked, certain her voice was shaking but trying to sound strong.

"You'll find out soon enough."

Thinking conversation would delay what was coming and perhaps give a search party more time, Jenny spoke again. This time, her speech was clear. "I remember you."

The look he gave her was evil itself. "I'm not sure how that is possible."

"I was young, but I have a great memory. I remember your eyes and your name when you were talking with Solomon that day. It's Martyn."

The surprise in his eyes quickly turned angry. "What do you know about that? You were just a little tyke."

"My father's name is Martin. It was an easy connection to make and remember."

"Well, little lady, you won't remember anything very soon. Especially Thomas Martyn." He reached down to retie her feet, then stood. "Be patient. I will be back to get you momentarily." The words were followed by a short laugh as he exited the small room and slammed the door behind him.

Be patient? Strange thing to say to someone you are about to murder. Ironically, the words brought a strange comfort to her heart as they reminded Jenny of her beloved brother. As a child, he was very patient, and she could only imagine that characteristic had stayed with him to adulthood. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she wondered if she would ever see him again, and then her chest was gripped with pain as the faces of her children came to mind.

"Oh no!" she shrieked in agony. "What will happen to them?" Uncontrollable sobs sprang forth as her heart broke at the thought of them growing up without a mother. Her sweet little Jo and strong, handsome Luke. Realizing they wouldn't understand what had happened to her hurt her deeply as she wept inconsolably on the floor.

His arrival at the isolated area proved Lucas's instincts were correct. Stopping at the top of a small hill with some tree coverage, he quickly surveyed the area after dismounting and hiding Sergeant as well as possible. Having a black horse was definitely an advantage in his efforts this night.

Lucas spotted a small building to his left, watching it until he saw movement at the front door. A man exited and headed off toward the water. He couldn't see the face clearly, but he was the same build as Martyn, so Lucas assumed it was the captain. As the man walked further from the cabin, Lucas surreptitiously made his way towards the shack. His eyes darted back and forth to see that Thomas was lengthening his distance from the structure. Martyn didn't seem to suspect anything was amiss as he hadn't looked back once.

Putting his hand on the wood exterior as he reached his destination, Lucas glanced once more toward the man who was fading from sight and then leaned up to peek in the window. The light of a lantern lit the interior of the building, but from where he was, all Bouchard could see was some rope, canvas, boat soap, and tools. He leaned in a little closer, careful not to make a noise in case the rogue lawman had accomplices. That's when he saw what appeared to be a cowboy boot and men's pants. Was it her or someone else? There was only one way that he could find out. He needed to go inside.

Back in Hope Valley, a congregation of mostly women was gathered inside the Queen of Hearts, praying and singing hymns of solemn devotion. Rosemary placed a comforting hand around Elizabeth's arms as she watched out the window, waiting and watching to see that Lucas was safe.

"Why don't you come over here and sit beside me? Robert said he'd let us know when they're back."

Elizabeth looked toward Rosemary with worry in her eyes. "He has to be okay. I can't go through this again."

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Coulter replied. "Lucas is smart. He won't take any unnecessary chances."

Inside the building, Jenny worked to get her hands free. She had scooted her chair near the wall by the door, where she'd spotted a fisherman's spear and was presently trying to use the tool to cut through her ropes while avoiding cutting herself. The sharp point on the end of the pole finally did the trick.

Outside, Lucas slipped around the corner, again looking toward the lake where Martyn had gone. He saw movement, but it was so far away he knew that he'd be safe for the time being. He retrieved his gun from its holster and checked it; then, he reholstered it. Slowly, he moved toward the window at the front of the structure and clandestinely peered in. Looking down and to his left, he could see more clearly what appeared to be a man in trousers and cowboy boots. Too bad he couldn't see the face. He looked small. Perhaps he could take them without a shot. He looked for Jenny but couldn't see her. He stepped toward the door but then jumped back and darted around the corner when he heard the door handle jiggle. He held his breath as he waited. Had he been spotted?

Jenny poked her head out the door, knowing that if she were caught, it would mean certain death – but also knowing that staying would as well. She had no choice but to try to make a break for it. Seeing no sign of Martyn, she stepped quietly onto the porch and had taken no more than a single step when she saw the shadow of a man along the ground, formed by the glow of the lantern coming through the window on the side of the building. Her eyes grew large, and she swallowed. The only road to freedom was up that hill. She began to tremble as she reached backward for the spear.

Lucas heard the creaking of the boards and the light sound of bootheels coming his way. His heart began to race. Swallowing, he thought for a moment. If he had to self-defend by using his weapon, Martyn would surely hear and come running. But if he didn't, and this guy was armed, he'd have no opportunity to save Jenny. It was kill or be killed. He had to use the element of surprise.

Drawing his gun, he held it up by his head, slowly creeping toward that corner. His every muscle fiber felt charged with electricity, and he could no longer hear the heel taps for the sound of his own heart beating in his ear. Meanwhile, Jenny was steps away from the corner. She could see the shadow growing and was prepared to strike.

Without warning, Lucas jumped from around the corner with his gun pointed directly at his sister. The spear came down. A shot rang out.

Hope Valley group number one raced along the trail toward the lake, led by Nathan Grant. The other group of men had been sent around the back way in case Martyn decided to escape. When they reached the fork of the road, Nathan stopped, dismounting from Newton only long enough to pick up a piece of fabric that had been Jenny Bouchard's gag.

"They've gone this way," he said. "Lucas's hunch was right."

Hoisting himself back onto Newton, Grant led the men up the hill and into the treacherous dark. As he approached the place where the wagon had crashed, he suddenly heard an odd sound. The sound of tapping and singing, he believed.

Slowing down, he and the men cautiously round the bend where they discovered Helen perched on the Wagon seat.

She turned and saw them – or, more appropriately, saw her husband.

"Oh, Martin! Martin!" she cried, turning to climb down from the seat and being intercepted by the loving arms of her beloved.

"Are you okay, my dove? Are you harmed?" he asked.

Helen caressed his face. "I'm fine. Jenny! He has our Jenny!"

"Which way did he go?" Nathan asked, just as Faith, Mike, and Bill caught up with the group.

Helen pointed toward the darkness. "Up the hill. He said he was going to take her somewhere where she could disappear."

"The lake," Nathan said. He turned toward his posse. "Bill, come with me. Joseph, Mike, and Lee stay here and help the Bouchards. Help them get back to town.

"But Constable Grant," Martin said.

"I'll take care of them. You take care of Helen."

Lucas's father looked down at his wife. "From now until eternity."

Lucas looked down at his bleeding thigh in shock, then back up to his sister, whom he'd avoided hitting due to a swift last-minute adjustment of his aim once he saw it was her. Suddenly, all of the pain in his leg disappeared. The siblings locked eyes for a moment, each one expressing without words the overwhelming sense of love they felt. Jenny jumped off the porch and tackled him to the ground.

"Lucas! Oh, Lucas!" she cried, hugging Lucas with all her might as sobs of joy shook her body. "You found me!"

Lucas shuttered his eyes and held her tightly, burying his nose in her hair. Hot tears poured down his cheeks. "I told you I would."

"And, I never doubted," she said, laughing tears of joy. She pulled him toward her and kissed his cheek over and over. "I can't…I can't believe it's really you! You didn't give up."

"They told us you were murdered. I blamed myself for years!"

"No!" Jenny said, raising up and looking at him. "Martyn wanted them to kill me, but Nan convinced Paps not to….those are the Drakes, Solomon, and Lydia…"

"I'm so glad she did," Lucas said, looking at his sister with happiness.

Jenny turned her head to see Martyn making his way toward them in the distance. "He's coming!" she exclaimed, leaping to her feet and grabbing Lucas's hand. "Let's head toward the road."

Lucas turned to run, but the moment weight hit his leg, he buckled. "Oh, no!"

As Lucas knelt on the ground, Jenny came to aid him.

"What can I do to help?" she asked, her eyes darting from Lucas to the shadow now a few hundred yards away.

Lucas shook his head. "Go! Get out of here!"

"No!" Jenny said. "I'm not leaving you. I'm not going to do it!"

Lucas looked at her with a longing in his heart, then grabbed both of her hands. "You must. Please. I couldn't live with myself if my being injured brought harm to you. Your safety is what matters."

"But, Lucas…."

"I'll be okay," he said. "I'll hide next to the building in the shadows. I'll be harder to spot. Up the hill, there is a big black horse. His name is Sergeant. Get to him and ride toward town. Somewhere along the way, I believe you'll run into our Constable."

"The one with the pretty blue eyes?"

Lucas's mouth fell open, and he stared at his sister blankly for just a moment until he heard Martyn coming. "We'll discuss that later," he said, flatly. "Find Nathan. Tell him where I am."

She shook her head.

"Oh, and take this," he said, reaching into a pocket and retrieving her arrowhead, placing it in her hands. "I believe you lost it."

Jenny began to cry. "I love you!"

"And, I you. More than you know," Lucas replied, reaching up to touch her face. "Now get out of here before he sees you."

"But…"

Lucas took his index and middle finger and pointed toward his eyes and then toward his sister. She choked back tears.

"I'll be fine. Go!" he said.

Jenny leaned down and kissed his cheek, then ran with all her might towards the road.

Martyn saw her. "Wait!" he shouted, but Lucas's sister kept running. The next thing Lucas heard was a gunshot. Lucas looked to see, and Jenny was still running, so he rolled to his stomach. Pointing his gun in Martyn's direction, he discharged his weapon – once- twice- three times. His bullets missed, but it was enough to cause the man from New Orleans to take cover, which gave Jenny the time she needed to disappear over the hill.

Bouchard pulled himself up to a sitting position and painfully crawled toward the woods. He realized his injury was somewhat serious and needed to somehow create a tourniquet to slow the bleeding, or he'd bleed to death before help would come. Though the pain was searing, he managed to crawl into some brush near the edge of the trees.

Martyn waited patiently for several minutes, watching the corner of the building for any sign of activity. When all seemed quiet, he slowly emerged from his hiding place, staying low and moving fast in a zig zag so that the shooter would have a hard time getting a bead on him. Once he reached the building, he stayed close to the wall and slowly edged his way to the corner.

From the minute Lucas reached the brush, his first priority was to stop the bleeding. He knew he had to do this immediately because he was already beginning to feel light-headed, and he'd need his strength if he was to take down Martyn. Ripping his tights, he was at once thankful for their length and elasticity as well as their ease of tearing. They were a good stopgap for his thigh, the bleeding of which seemed to be getting worse on his way to the woods. Using what strength he could muster, he tightened the fabric around his thigh, so much that the pain was nearly unbearable, and then he tied the knot tight. This was enough to slow the bleeding, but it didn't stop. It was in a race against time.

Nathan and Bill sped through the night, fighting the clock in their effort to save Lucas and Jenny. They were making good time until they reached a perilous corner, and suddenly, an ebony steed nearly collided with Grant and Newton. Both horses reared, but their riders hung on. When all hooves were back on the ground, the two humans found themselves side by side. Nathan looked up, and he and Jenny locked eyes. For several seconds, the speech eluded them.

Finally, Nathan cleared his throat. "Um, hi. I'm….."

"Mountie Grant," Jenny said with a shy smile, sticking out her hand. She was even more beautiful up close, and Grant was immediately smitten.

"Jenny-"

"Bouchard," he finished.

"Have you seen Lucas?" Bill asked, breaking the moment.

Shaking herself out of her daze, Jenny immediately briefed him on what had transpired. Then, together, they turned around and headed back to the lake.

Thomas Martyn turned the corner, his gun at the ready, but Lucas was nowhere to be seen. He stepped away from the building only slightly, looking around at the landscape and the dark woods ahead. There was no sign of Jenny, no sign of whoever was with her. Angrily, he began to reholster his gun and looked down toward the ground. The glow of lamplight illuminated the ground and soil around the parameter, and he could see where the grass had been mashed down near the wall. Slowly walked down the side of the building until he reached the window and saw something else – a handprint made in blood. Martyn touched the print and rolled the fresh, sticky substance between his fingers. He looked toward the woods. Turning around, he returned to the shack, emerging seconds later with a lantern.

Through bleary eyes, Lucas watched through the brush as Thomas followed the trail he'd left behind. He knew at that moment it was do or die. Too weak to retreat further and fighting unconsciousness, Bouchard waited until Martyn was in range and then raised his pistol with a heavy arm. Struggling to take aim, Lucas's hand shook, and his world became a dizzying blur. "Get back," he said, his voice raspy and barely above a whisper.

Martyn proceeded forward until he stopped at Lucas's feet. He could tell that Bouchard was quickly fading. "Well, well. If it's not the big brother – or should I say, Robin Hood?" he chuckled. "Rescuing damsels in distress, are we? Big mistake. She won't get far."

"Leave her alone, or so help me…." Lucas lifted his head, his vision now fading, his thumb barely having the strength to pull back his gun's hammer.

"Or you'll what?" Martyn said, kicking the gun from Lucas's hand.

Lucas laid his head down on the soil.

From the top of the hill, Nathan, Bill and Jenny came speeding around the bend, with Lucas's sister leading the men to the exact cutoff to where she was held. When they reached a clearing, they could see the little building and, just behind it, a lantern illuminating the night woods. Looking closer, Jenny gasped. Thomas Martyn now pointed his .45 revolver just inches from her brother's chest.

"Goodbye, Bouchard," the malefactor said.

A loud boom of gunfire pierced the night air. Jenny screamed, and then all was still.