Chapter 7

With the race over for another year, things around the Barkley ranch were now able to return to business as usual. Bets had been both won and lost, a number of the ranch hands having placed their bets on Nick with a handful of the smarter ones betting on Millie (and finding themselves considerably wealthier for doing so) and talk of the race was sure to continue in the bunkhouse for a few weeks yet.

For Millie, the race was over now and she could think again about her future. She was two thousand dollars richer now, the fifteen hundred dollars of the prize money safely tucked away in the Barkley safe with an additional five hundred Nick had gifted her out of the money he'd won from the Morton's. While it wasn't enough yet for her to be able to buy her own ranch and start raising stock, it was a start and a considerably good one.

If anything though, the rivalry between the Barkleys and the Mortons had only intensified by her win. Both Nick and Zack had declared a truce for the moment, one that would only last until the San Joaquin County Fair which was only a couple months away. It seemed to Millie that the rivalry between the two ranches would never be resolved, especially when Nick appeared so keen to keep it going. Only time would tell, but for this year, for this race, the Barkelys had come out in front.

Next year, it would happen all over again.

Things were mostly back to normal a couple days after the race though Nick had to continue helping Millie look after Tomahawk given she still had stitches in her arm. The wound from Tempest had almost healed; she would need to go into town to the doctor to have them removed in a few days and she couldn't be happier when they could be taken out so she could get back to her usual duties.

With still not being able to work just yet, Millie had consigned herself to her studies and drawings to pass the time when she wasn't helping Silas around the house. Her reading and writing was still improving, Jarrod patiently teaching her each evening after supper. While he suggested the possibility of her attending school in Stockton, Millie had quickly shot that idea down. She was at the age of graduating and ready to go to college, how could she stand being with children who were half her age yet further in their studies then she? No. School wasn't for her. She was satisfied with the lessons that Jarrod could give her. It would suffice.

Monday morning, Silas had sent her to the attic to grab something for him and while she was there, it dawned on her that it was the perfect place herself to create her own little spot where she could draw in peace. After she'd finished helping the servant, she'd approached Audra and asked if she could give her a hand. Audra was more than happy to oblige and between the two of them, they were able to move a few things around to make herself a cozy little area for her drawing. It was perfect for her, a little spot of sanctuary she could hide herself away in when she wanted to be able to draw in peace and quiet.

Hours slipped by as she drew to her heart's content in the solitude of her little hiding spot, the lamp on the overturned crate beside her providing all the light she needed to draw by. It was almost supper time when she heard someone calling her name downstairs and after blowing out the lamp and hiding her sketchbook beneath the cushions she'd been sitting on, she headed out to see what they wanted.

"What's the matter?" She questioned, Jarrod meeting her at the bottom of the staircase. "Something wrong?"

"I thought you might like to see this." He held a newspaper out to her as she stopped in front of him. "You've become one of Stockton's celebrities."

Taking the paper, Millie unfolded it and couldn't help the shiver that ran up her spine. In an instant, her world came crashing down around her. Her heart began to race, her breathing quickening as she saw the picture of her and Tomahawk on the front page.

Jarrod frowned a little, taking notice of her response to the newspaper. "You alright Millie?"

"Yeah… Yeah… I-I just didn't expect…" Oh God… Why did they have to put our photo in the newspaper? "I-I didn't expect them to publish our picture. I… I thought it was only going in Town Hall."

"Well, you and Tomahawk winning the race is big news. This was one of the last copies, all the others were sold out. You made history, Millie, being the first female rider to win this race."

Millie nodded, swallowing as she struggled to control herself. She felt like she was spinning, spiraling out of control. What was she going to do? "I um… I didn't think about that. I-I wouldn't have let my picture be taken if I knew it was going in the newspaper. If… If he sees this." She bit her lip as she tried to control her breathing before she really began to panic, a thousand thoughts racing through her head. "I-I can't stay here. I-I've got to leave. He'll come looking for me."

"Who, Millie?" He prompted softly, hoping that she might finally reveal to him the name of the man she'd been running from all this time. "Who will come looking for you?"

"I-I can't say." She shook her head. "You… You don't want to mess with him Jarrod, believe me." She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "I know what he's done to people. What he's capable of. He will destroy you and your family."

"Millie, you don't have to run." He told her kindly as he gently placed his hand on her shoulder. "You can stay with us and fight him. We'll stand with you. If he comes, we'll protect you."

"It… It doesn't matter. You can't. There's nothing you can do. He's my legal guardian." Those tears began to slide down her cheeks. "Your custody will be void, Jarrod. You have no claim over me if he turns up on the doorstep demanding you hand me over. It's best if I just go. If I leave now, I might have a chance."

"No, Millie. This isn't the way to deal with this." His heart was breaking seeing the turmoil she was going through. If only she would tell them his name. They had to do something. Anything. They couldn't allow her to go back to the life she'd run away from. "You can't keep running your whole life."

"I don't have a choice, Jarrod. I've got to go." She looked back down at the newspaper, a couple of her tears falling onto the headline at the top of the page. Black Wonder Wins Annual Stockton Sweepstakes. She wasn't even going to bother reading the article. "You and your family… You've all been so kind to me. These past few months… I've finally found a home. Found folks who've been good to me. Being here with you all... It's been the best time of my life." Millie said, looking back up at him after she'd composed herself. "I couldn't stand it if one of you got hurt because of me. I couldn't live with myself. He won't stop at anything to get me back. I'm not worth it Jarrod. Please, just let me go. This will be a fight you can't win."

"Millie, if you leave," Jarrod started softly, but firmly. "we will follow you and bring you back. You can't run just because you're worried what he might be able to do to us. We will stand with you. You don't have to go through this alone. We won't let you."

Her bottom lip began to quiver as her face fell.

"It's alright sweetheart. It's alright." Hesitating for a moment, not sure how she would react, Jarrod initiated a hug and Millie melted into his arms as she dropped the newspaper. "It's alright." He held her tight, soft sobs emitting from her as she wrapped her arms around his waist. "He won't hurt you again. I won't let him."

"I-I'm... I'm s-scared."

"I know." He soothed gently, his heart breaking for her. "I know honey. It's going to be alright, I'm not going to let him take you."

She shook her head, her face buried in his shoulder as she cried and the newspaper lay on the floor beside her feet as she held onto him like her life depended on it. "It'll n-never be alright… Not... Not as l-long as he's alive."

Jarrod just held her close as she broke down, his cheek resting against her head. He didn't know what else he could say to her and instead he said nothing as he held her, rubbing circles on her back with his hand as her tears soaked his vest.

How could he protect her from a threat he knew nothing about?

Tuesday came and went, Wednesday morning arriving. With it, Millie's appointment with the doctor in town had also come. Jarrod took her in early in the morning in the buggy, Millie watching her surroundings with great nervousness. It had only been a couple days since her picture had made it into the newspaper, the chances of Cade having seen it already and having come to Stockton searching for her were slim but she couldn't be too careful. She had to keep her wits about her.

If Jarrod noticed her anxiety and the way she scanned every single face on the street, he didn't make mention of it. After her break down after seeing the newspaper, she hadn't said another word about the matter. If anything, she'd retreated back into her shell again. She was afraid, that much was evident but there was nothing more he could do unless she would give her the man's name.

But Millie was too afraid to.

Too afraid to give the name of the man who had mistreated her all those years.

She was afraid for herself and afraid for the Barkleys.

What could she do though?

She was trapped.

If she ran, she'd have the Barkleys after her. She knew Jarrod spoke the truth when he'd told her that. They cared too much about her to just let her go and forget her. They'd opened their home to her; and their hearts. If Millie was being entirely honest with herself, she'd come to start thinking of them as the family she'd never had.

If, on the other hand, she stayed and Cade did come, there was no telling what he might do to get her back. She was caught between a rock and a hard place. Of the two choices she had, neither of them would lead to a good ending. If Cade came, she knew the Barkleys would stand with her and fight for her. There was no denying that. She knew wholeheartedly they were with her. What though if something happened to them because of her? How would she live with herself?

Ruth was already dead.

Could she live with another person's blood on her hands?

All those thoughts and more were running through her head as she sat silently through her appointment with Doctor Merar, the doctor and Jarrod carrying on a pleasant conversation that she paid no heed to at all. She only spoke when spoken to, retreating back inside herself. The only good thing that came of her appointment was the fact the good doctor was very pleased with how her wound had healed and had agreed her stitches could come out. As he pulled them one by one, Millie didn't even so much as flinch at the pain. Pain was nothing new and this would pale in comparison to what Cade would inflict on her if he ever caught up with her. She could handle stitches being taken out. Unknowingly though, to deal with the pain, Millie dissociated.

"There we go my dear." Doctor Merar said kindly as he removed the last stitch. "All finished."

Millie was still staring blankly past him out the window, both the doctor and Jarrod noticing she didn't seem present with them. "Millie." Jarrod placed his hand on her knee after a moment and at the unexpected touch, she returned. "The doctor is finished, my dear."

"Oh…" She smiled a little at the old man. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He smiled back at her warmly. "Let's hope I don't have to see you again for a good while."

Millie chuckled a little. "I hope not too. Nick's trying to find a buyer for that stallion and as soon as he does, the Red Devil is gone. Until then, I'm giving Tempest a wide berth. I don't fancy being bitten again anytime soon…" She paused for a moment. "So, I'm alright to start working again now that they're out?"

"I can't see why not, as long as you take it easy. You might find your arm will still be a little tender for another week or so but otherwise, it's healed nicely."

As she stood from his chair, she nodded. "Thank you doctor."

"Would you mind waiting out in the waiting room for a minute? I'd like to speak with Jarrod privately."

She looked up at Jarrod, rolling down her sleeve.

"It's alright." He encouraged her gently. "Go on. I'll be out in a moment and Miss Jane is out there, you won't be on your own."

Millie bit her lip and headed out the door, closing it after herself.

Thomas turned to Jarrod after the young woman had left. "Does she do that often, Jarrod? Where it's like she's not here?"

"I'm afraid so doc," Jarrod replied with a sigh. "when she first came to live with us, it used to happen frequently but as time passed, it slowly stopped. A couple days ago, she received some upsetting news and… well, the best way to explain it is that it's like she's retreated into herself. She won't engage in conversation unless spoken to, won't maintain eye contact and all she's done since is hide and draw. She's completly withdrawn again, worse then when she'd first come to us."

"The news wouldn't happen to have anything to do with the newspaper, would it?"

"I'm afraid so. She's worried that 'he' is going to find her. Who 'he' is, she won't tell me but she's terrified of him. I don't know what to do doc. I don't know how to help her." He paused for a moment. "If… If I'd thought ahead, I'd have requested her photo not be published but it never crossed my mind and I wish to God I'd thought of this happening... I could have stopped it but I just didn't think of it." He sighed heavily. "I gather from your question, Millie spacing out like that isn't something good."

"You're right, it's not Jarrod. We doctors don't fully understand yet how the mind works but sometimes, after experiencing such trauma like we suspect she's experienced, a person can become so consumed by it they believe it's their reality when it's not. They relieve it over and over, even though it's no longer happening to them."

"What you're saying is, Millie could go insane."

He nodded. "I wish I could help you Jarrod but I've got no solution for this one. Keep an eye on her, see how she goes but keep in mind what I've said. Hopefully it will pass."

"Alright." Now he had even more to think about. "Thank you for your time doc."

After exchanging goodbyes, Jarrod left the doctor's office, finding Millie waiting for him.

"Can we go now?" She questioned as she rose quickly upon seeing him.

"We can go. How about we go to that little cafe you like and get something to eat before we go to the office? I've got a few things I need to do before we go home."

"No Jarrod. Just take me to your office now. Please."

"Alright, we can do that. How about I get Miss Anne to go fetch us something in that case?"

Millie nodded, instantly on the alert and scanning every face as they stepped out of the doctor's office and into the street. "What did the doc want to talk to you about?"

"Just a couple things. Nothing to worry about."

"It was about me, wasn't it?" She questioned, keeping as close to Jarrod as she could and as she searched the street, she slipped her hand into Jarrod's.

"Millie-"

"It's fine Jarrod. You don't have to tell me." Millie cut him off shortly, her eyes darting nervously at the folks around her. "How long will we be in town?"

"A couple hours. I'll get you home as soon as I can though."

They continued on to his office in silence, Millie only relaxing once the door of his building had closed behind her. Here, she felt safe. Out there, Cade could be anywhere amongst the thousands of residents of Stockton. He could be anywhere, watching her. Perhaps he was even watching her at this very moment.

The thought utterly terrified her.

Jarrod stopped to speak to his secretary and Millie continued on into Jarrod's office, only breathing easily once she'd closed the door behind her and all the curtains in the windows. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself again that she was with Jarrod. Jarrod had promised Cade wouldn't be able to hurt her again. He would protect her. He would keep her safe.

After a few more deep breaths, her heart had returned to its usual pace. There's no point in getting yourself worked up. She told herself as she fought to remain calm. You are safe here, nothing is going to happen to you. Jarrod won't let it.

At the sound of the door opening behind her, Millie jumped and spun around as Jarrod entered the room. Realizing it was only him, she hoped he hadn't noticed her reaction as he closed the door behind himself.

"Anne will go get us something to eat shortly." He reported, noticing that the girl had shut the curtains but thought best not to say anything about it. She was scared, he could see that and frankly, he couldn't blame her either. He went over to her, placing his hand on her shoulder. "It's alright Millie. You are safe here. We'll go home in a couple hours."

She swallowed, nodding as she looked up at him. "I-I'm… I'm sorry Jarrod."

"What on earth for honey?"

"For being like this… For being afraid of my own shadow."

"Oh Millie, I understand. It's only natural for you to be frightened given what this person means to you. You don't have to apologize."

Millie nodded again. "Please… Please don't tell the family about this? I'm ashamed enough you know and have to see me like this. I couldn't stand it if the rest of the family found out too."

"You know they are going to notice you aren't yourself."

"I know." She whispered. "But you don't have to say anything to them about me, alright?"

Sighing heavily, he nodded in agreement. "I won't mention anything."

"Thank you."

"Would you like to do some drawing while we're here? Or perhaps you might like to read?"

"Drawing is just fine, you might like reading law books, being a lawyer and all but I couldn't think of anything more boring."

Jarrod chuckled as he went over to his desk, opening a drawer to get her a piece of paper and a pencil. "Believe me, I can find it boring sometimes also. Here."

She smiled a little as he gave the pencil and paper. "Thanks Jarrod."

Taking a seat behind his desk, he watched as Millie went over to the other side of the room, tucking herself away in the corner beside the bookshelf to draw. His heart went out to her, it really did. She was just a poor, frightened kid waiting for something bad to happen to her. Was it any surprise she was acting the way she was? As he settled down to work on a couple of his current cases, Jarrod just hoped and prayed for Millie's sake, whoever she was running from didn't happen to see her face in the newspaper.

Unfortunately for him, it was not to be.

In a small town saloon, sitting at a table in the corner with his back to the wall, sat a man playing with a stack of cards with a glass of whiskey set in front of him. He wasn't alone in the saloon, the bartender wiping down some glasses behind the bar while two saloon girls strutted their wares to the handful of other customers visiting the establishment. While business was slow this early in the morning, it would begin to pick up later in the day and he'd find some unsuspecting soul to play poker with in order to relieve him of his cash. For now though, in the quiet of the morning, he sat with his cards and waited for the cook to prepare his breakfast.

The man was well known here, this particular saloon being one of his favorite haunts, given that he owned the establishment though that fact was kept secret. He came frequently, staying a couple days at a time before moving onto the next town on his route. He was a gambling man, earning his living by knowing through the tells of his opponent what cards he held. It was the thrill of the chase and the win that kept him gambling. He'd set up his opponent early on in their game, carefully stalking his prey by letting them win a hand or two to get them comfortable and cocky. He'd move on then into the chase where he'd encourage them to increase the pot, raise the stakes, telling them it wasn't possible that they could lose. When he got them there, he had them right where he wanted. It was then he'd move to his final and favorite part of the game; the take down where he sank his teeth into his carefully trapped prey. The reveal of his hand as he won was always the highlight of his game, relishing in the look of defeat and despair as his opponent realized that he'd lost.

It never grew old.

He'd always offer his opponent the chance to win back his lost cash, again masterfully setting them up to lose more. Some men would walk away after their first great loss but others would grit their teeth, nod and ask to go another round until he owned even the very shirt they wore. That was his greatest joy, to see another human being beg for the chance to win back everything they had lost and when they had nothing left, when he'd squeezed everything he could out of them, he'd drop them like a hot coal.

It wasn't for nothing that he had earned himself the nickname of The Killing Cobra by some of the folks who worked for him.

Desperate men sometimes did desperate things and more then once he'd found them lying in wait to rob him and take back what they had lost. Those men, they would be found lying in the rising morning sun where he'd dropped them, dead. He owned this town, the Sheriff he paid out of his own pocket. No one dared to challenge him, no one dared to make an enemy out of him. If folks knew what was good for them, they'd keep in well with him or would find it detrimental to their health and well-being.

This man, he appeared as gentle and as loving as a dove but could bite with the sting of a rattlesnake. He could talk anyone into anything he wanted with his voice that was smooth like silk. The ladies, why, he could have any one of them that he wanted. Ladies couldn't resist his charming nature and ruggedly handsome looks and he had a girl in every town who thought that she was his one and only. If only they knew it was all a game to him. A game that he relished in.

To the outside appearance, he presented himself as a gentleman. He only wore the best of the best, his clothes tailored to him by his suit makers in San Francisco. He had an image to uphold. He took great pride in his appearance, his hair and mustache were always trimmed and perfectly groomed, his clothes were always perfectly pressed. It was nothing but the best for him and given his line of work, nothing was out of his price range.

Underneath all this perfectly presented facade, lay the real man. There was no denying he was a pure snake though most people knew better than to try and stand up to him. Anyone who did found themselves in for a world of hurt. His little empire had been crafted and nurtured by him for years. Nothing and no one would take it away from him.

In all his years, there had only ever been one person who had really taken a stand against him once and that problem had been resolved permanent like years ago.

Hearing footsteps approaching his table, he looked up to see that Jeannie had arrived with his meal. "Ah, thank you my dear. This looks wonderful." He said as she placed the plate down in front of him. "Come, sit with me awhile." He patted his lap. "I would appreciate the company."

"I-I'm sorry sir." The young woman replied with fear. "But I-I can't. I have things left on the stove that may boil over if left unattended."

"Of course." He smiled at her with perfect white teeth. "You run along then Miss, we can't be having dinner ruined."

The young lady nodded and headed back to the kitchen, the man digging into his breakfast. As he ate, another set of footsteps approached and looking up, he smiled. "Berta. Always lovely to see you, my dear."

The saloon girl smiled back, giving him a kiss on the lips. "I missed you last night."

"I had business to take care of but I'm all yours tonight."

"Good." She pressed another kiss to his lips then pulled away, placing a newspaper down on the table. "Stage just delivered newspapers from Stockton. I brought you a copy to read over breakfast."

"Thank you, my dear."

"I'll leave you to it then."

Berta left him in peace to eat and grabbing the newspaper, he flipped it open. Black Wonder Wins Annual Stockton Sweepstakes was the headline but that wasn't what caught his attention. No. It was the picture in the middle of the page that caught his eye, the picture of the winning horse and rider. He frowned, placing his fork down to inspect the paper closer. Yes, there was no denying it. He'd recognize that kid out of a thousand.

Beginning to read the article, his brain began doing what it did best; scheming. That kid had been a thorn in his side for almost a year. She'd managed to disappear without a trace no matter how hard he'd tried to find her. It had angered him to no end when he'd found she had been successful this time in her escape attempt and all his attempts at finding her had proved fruitless until, finally, he'd stopped though still hadn't given up. He knew if he was patient enough, one day, he'd find her. That day had finally come. Here she was in Stockton, the newspaper barely two weeks old. His patience had paid off and here she was, posing for the camera as proud as could be.

You don't get away from me that easily, Missie. He thought as he glared at her picture. No one gets away from me. I'll make you regret the day you even contemplated running away. The longer he looked at the photograph, the more it seemed like she was mocking him, teasing him. Well, she'd be paying for her little trick of running away soon enough. He'd make sure of that.

Tearing the front page of the newspaper off, he wad it up tightly into a ball that he squeezed the life out of in his hand. She'd been able to evade him for this long but no longer. He'd soon have her back right where she belonged. With him.

It had infuriated him to lose her, unable to play his little games without his sister's child. To see fear in another's eyes, it empowered him and made him crave it all the more. It made him feel like a man to hear the kid cry and beg for mercy. He'd lost his sister when he'd taken beating her a little too far for standing up to him but he'd learnt since then. He wouldn't make the same mistake with her.

To him, it was all just a game. A sick, twisted game that she didn't have a choice in playing.

Just like the opponents in his card games, he lived to see the fear and desperation in her eyes.

When he found her and brought her home, she was going to know what real pain was. She was going to be punished, severely, for running away and making a fool out of him.

A little trip to Stockton was in order.

No one made a fool out of Cade Alton.

No one.