"Eloise, this is farcical," Alexander said, following her back inside the saloon in the wake of the mens' departure and her hurried explanation to her family as to her husband's request. "You can't mean to stay here whilst Hank is gone."

"Why not?"

"Well because…because…"

Eloise turned to face her father. "All I really have to do is serve drinks and, well, keep an eye on things."

"And what about…other matters?"

"What other matters?"

"You know to what I'm referring," he said, glancing pointedly over to where some of the girls were standing.

"Well, that's…I mean…" she floundered for a response. "The girls are quite good at managing themselves and I…well…I shouldn't need to get involved in that side of things." She held her father's gaze, trying to project an air of confidence when, in reality, her stomach was churning, not only at the prospect of being left in charge of the saloon, but with a certain fear that something might happen to Hank.

"Lou, this is not the done thing, and you know that."

"Not the done thing for who? A woman of my breeding? I know that you and Mother disapprove of the choices I've made…"

"Disapprove?!" he exclaimed, and then lowered his voice. "Lou, your mother and I have always considered ourselves to be fairly lenient when it came to raising you. We have let you do your own thing and make your own way in the world. We never pushed or cajoled you into anything nor made any demands on you but this…this…" he shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I cannot tolerate you doing this, not in Hank's absence."

"Then there wouldn't be a difficulty if he were here? I thought that was equally unpalatable to you. Besides, I'm a married woman now and my place is here."

He set his jaw. "Perhaps this is an ideal time for you to agree to come home with us."

"You think I should just leave without telling Hank? Have him come back to find me gone and the saloon overrun with goodness only knows who?"

"I'm sure there must be someone else who could step in and take over."

"No."

"Eloise…"

"Father, this is my home now and Hank is my husband. I am not going to divorce him, I am not going to come home with you and I am not going to marry Thomas. The sooner you and Mother understand and accept that, the better off we shall all be!" He stared at her. "You say that you and Mother have been lenient and let me make my own way, but that isn't true. You've kept me in your home, had me work in your business, wanted me to marry the man of your choice, not because you think him to be the best match for me, but because he has money to help your business. I have never done anything for myself in all my adult life. Everything I have done, or tried to do, has been to please you, not myself."

"We have never forced you to remain with us. You could have married whomever you chose had you shown the slightest inclination in younger years. And as for your work, we have never denied that you have a talent. You could have built on that however you chose, yet you chose to do so in the family business." He spread his hands. "As parents, we have only ever wanted to protect you. I don't understand what we've done that was so wrong!"

She sighed heavily. "I'm not suggesting you've done anything wrong. Most of this is my own fault. You and Mother made it so easy for me to never look beyond our own family and its needs and if I had looked into Thomas's eyes and felt even half of what I know Mother felt looking into yours all those years ago then I would have married him and none of this would have happened. But I didn't feel those things and I never will and whilst it would be the easy option to do what I know you both want, I can't, not now."

"Because you are in love with Hank."

"Yes," she lied, "and because I have discovered so much about myself in these last few weeks that to go back to what I had before would…"

"Not be enough," he finished for her.

"Yes," she said, surprised at his words. "I've taken myself halfway across the country, experienced things I never would have thought about experiencing before. I can't be the kind of wife that Thomas wants, and I can't go back to being the kind of daughter I know you want."

"I know that we have sheltered you but…your mother and I only want you to be happy."

"I know, she said as much herself. But perhaps you can understand that, whilst this might not be the happiness you envisaged for me, I am happy."

Alexander sighed heavily and shook his head. "You're a bright young woman, Lou. You can't be blind as to how this new life of yours will be perceived."

"Perceived by who, polite San Franciscan society? When I boarded that train to Denver, I did not consider for one moment that I would end up where I have. But I'm here now."

"We want you to be safe. This place, this town…look at how those men were shot, how you yourself were set upon when you first arrived…what kind of parents would we be if we weren't concerned? And whilst I have no doubt that Hank is eminently capable of protecting you…he isn't here."

"But he'll be back."

He sighed again and gestured to the bottle sat on the bar. "You may as well pour me a drink." Somewhat surprised, she did as he asked, watching as he quickly drained the glass. "I must speak with your mother. If our attempts at persuasion are fruitless then I see no reason for us to prolong our stay here."

"But…you could stay," she said hurriedly. "There's no tailor in town. You and Mother could make a life here too, bring the boys out. Imagine how much fun they could have roaming these hills and…" she paused on his look. "Perhaps not."

He smiled ruefully. "In younger days, perhaps, before marriage and fatherhood I may have thought such an adventure to be tempting, but not now Lou. I'm too old and your mother would never agree."

"You are not old."

"Well, some days I feel it." He reached for her hand. "I do not want to leave you here, but I've seen a stubbornness in you these last few days that whilst I haven't recognised before, I can't help but somewhat admire. Your grandparents were not keen on your mother and I marrying when we did and, perhaps if we hadn't been strong enough, secure in our love for one another, it may never have happened, and you may never have been born."

"I don't expect your blessing, but rather your understanding."

He nodded. "As I say, let me speak with your mother, and Thomas. I believe the stagecoach is due to run again tomorrow afternoon. Perhaps Hank may even have returned by that time."

"Yes," she agreed, her mind wandering to her husband again. "Perhaps."

XXXX

The afternoon sun was high in the sky making the ride to Tanner Flats an unpleasantly uncomfortable experience, but the posse rode on, all mindful of the fact that two men had been shot and a woman had been taken against her will.

Though he had never considered himself to be the smartest man in the world, Hank couldn't help but feel that there was something off about John Taylor, the brother of the kidnap victim, Sarah. Something in his demeanour suggested to Hank that the younger man knew more than he was letting on and as he drew Hurricane up alongside John's horse, the other man looked at him sideways, his expression wary.

"Sure ya don't know nothin' bout these men, John?"

"No, why do you ask?"

"Just seems odd to me that two fellas would ride out to yer place, shoot yer brothers and take yer sister for no real reason."

"Well, they did."

"Why didn't they shoot ya?"

John paused. "What do you mean?"

"They shot yer brothers, so why didn't they shoot ya?"

"I…I was in the barn. Don't think they realised I was there."

Jake pulled his horse up on Jack's other side. "What you getting at, Hank?"

"Like I said, just think it's odd is all. If it had bin Injuns, guess I could understand better, but John said they were whites."

"They were whites."

"Seems to me, white men only take women for two reasons."

"Oh yeah?" Jake said, "What are those?"

"First reason is to hurt 'em. Reckon if these fellas simply wanted to have their way with yer sister, could have done it right there at yer place, specially after they shot yer brothers, not realising ya were there, of course."

"What's the second reason?" John asked.

"Cause she meant somethin' to 'em." Hank raised his eyebrows as the younger man's face coloured. "Somethin' tells me ya know more than yer lettin' on, Jack."

"Is there a problem here?" Sully asked, trotting back towards them, Robert E and Horace close behind. "We gotta keep movin' if we're gonna track them before nightfall."

"John here was just about to tell us what he knows about these men," Jake said.

"What he knows?" Sully frowned. "What do you know?" As John remained silent, Hank pulled his gun from his belt and pointed it the other man's head. "Hey! Take it easy, Hank!"

"We're all ridin' out here to try and find his sister and he knows more about this than he's lettin' on! I ain't riskin' my life without knowin' what I'm riskin' it for. Got a wife back home to think about."

"A fake wife," Jake said sardonically.

"Still a wife, which is more than ya got."

"Alright, alright!" John held up his hands. "I'm sorry…I do know who they are. At least, I think I do. I never saw their faces, but…"

"But what?" Sully demanded.

"Jason and Leyland Masterson."

"You've gotta be kidding me," Jake said. "The Masterson brothers?"

"Who are the Masterson brothers?" Sully asked.

"Pair of troublemakers, live about five miles outside of town with their Ma, half-drunk whore that she is" Hank replied.

"Well, you would know," Jake said. "What the hell would they want with your sister anyways?"

John looked away. "She's been…fraternising with Leyland."

"Fraternisin'?" Hank asked.

John nodded. "Said she was in love with him, wanted to marry him. My brothers…said they wouldn't hear of it, said they'd rather see Sarah dead than be spoilt by him. Since my folks passed, we've tried to look out for her, make sure she finished school and…"

"How old's your sister?" Sully asked.

"Seventeen."

"Old enough," Hank said.

"She might be seventeen but she don't know nothing about the real world or love or what Leyland's really like," John said. "She ain't never strayed far from home. She must be so scared."

"If she loves him, maybe she wanted him to take her," Jake opined.

"She wouldn't have wanted him to shoot Tom and Ben, I know that," John said. "Please, we still gotta find her."

Sully sighed heavily. "Where would they go? Back to their place?"

John shook his head, "Tanner Flats would still be my best guess."

"Alright, then let's keep ridin'."

"Hey," Hank reached out and grabbed the scruff of John's shirt as he made to move past him. "We find her, and she don't wanna leave, I ain't riskin' my neck to bring her home. Made her bed, she can lie in it." To his credit, John nodded briefly, and Hank released him, watching as he rode on ahead.

"Made her bed, she can lie in it?" Jake echoed, drawing alongside.

"Sure, woman makes her choice, ain't up to us to try and change her mind. She wants to lie with Masterson, that's up to her."

"Yeah," Jake grinned, "that's what I thought you meant."

XXXX

Eloise spent the rest of the day mechanically doing the work that she had always observed Hank do. There didn't seem to be much thought required in pouring whisky, other than being careful not to spill it, the greatest challenge being to quickly add up prices in her head and make sure to return the correct change. More than once, a customer tried to make out that she hadn't calculated correctly and whilst she had acquiesced to them the first time, thereafter, she always took the time to ensure that she was right. It certainly wouldn't do for Hank to return and find that there was less money in the cashbox than there should be.

It led her to wonder, however, how he really ran the business. From everything that she had gleaned about him so far, he had a poor ability when it came to reading and appeared to spend little time concerning himself with anything resembling accounts. The only paperwork she had been able to find when she had chanced to look around the bar area were a pile of contracts relating to the girls and even those, to her eye, were indistinguishable.

As for that part of the business, what she had told her father had borne out. The girls seemed proficient at regulating themselves. The first time a customer had passed half the money due to her and then walked towards the bedrooms with the girl of his choice on his arm, she had stared at the coins in her hand and felt slightly ill at her part in the transaction. But then she had given herself a shake and placed the money in the cashbox. She might have neither liked nor approved of the work, but it wasn't her place at that moment to do anything about it.

For the most part, customers were friendly, and she recognised many of them from having observed over the course of the previous week. She avoided straying too far from the confines of the bar, lest too much drink gave a man ideas, and as evening turned to night and darkness fell, she felt a huge sense of achievement. Something else to add to the list she had created since arriving in Colorado Springs, even if it wasn't a list she would ever have previously considered herself to be proud of.

As the girls bid her goodnight and the last remaining regular customers trickled out, she caught sight of two men, sat at a table in the corner, who showed little sign of a willingness to leave. She couldn't recall ever seeing them before, one older than the other. "That's time, gentlemen," she said, lightly, starting to clear away the empty glasses from the tables. "We're closing up now."

"Hear that, Jed?"

"I don't know, Sam. Did she say something to us?"

"Ain't sure that she did."

"I said we're closing up now," she repeated, trying to keep the tremble of anxiety out of her voice. "I need you both to finish your drinks and be on your way."

"On our way?" the older man got to his feet. "She wants us to leave, Sam."

"That ain't too polite," the younger man agreed.

Back behind the bar, Eloise took a deep breath and smiled as best as she could. "I'm not looking for there to be any trouble, gentlemen…"

"No trouble, huh?" the older man moved towards the bar. "You got a man here?"

"Yes."

"Don't see him."

"He's…" she cursed her inept brain for being unable to work quickly enough. "He's…"

"Yes?"

"I don't think she got a man, Jed."

"You run this place all by yourself?"

"What do you want?" she asked, wishing with all her heart that Hank would appear, would ride to her rescue as he always had so far, yet knowing that she was on her own.

"What do I want?" the older man smiled. "What do I want? What do you think, Sam? What do you think I want?"

"Don't know about you," the younger man said, rising to his feet, "but I'll tell you what I want and that's to git this little lady on her back and see what she got between them thighs."

She stepped back sharply, colliding with the shelves behind, causing several glasses to slide to the floor and smash, her heart thudding wildly in her chest. Glancing down, she could see the handle of the Colt lying where it always did beneath the bar.

"Now Sam…" the older man chuckled. "We don't wanna scare this little lady, not when she's been so polite." He leaned across the bar towards her. "Come here." Eloise froze. "I said, come here." His smiled slipped slightly as she continued to remain where she was. "Don't make me come over this bar and git you."

Slowly, she edged forwards, the gun still in her sights, and yet shooting tin cans when a person had the time and patience to line up the shot seemed far different to reacting to a situation such as this where she was outnumbered. Before she could think further, the man's hand snaked out and grabbed her arm, pulling her into the bar and causing her to yelp with fear.

"Now my friend here likes women like you," he said, his acrid breath roaming over her face. "Me, I ain't that fussed, so, if you just give us the cashbox, we can be on our way."

"The…the…?"

"The cashbox," he repeated. "Don't act like you don't know where or what it is. We've been watching you. Now, you just reach down, lift it up real slow and place it on the bar for me." She felt herself start to shake, but her fear only appeared to irritate rather than placate him. "You need some persuasion?" Roughly letting go of her arm, he took his gun from his belt, cocked the hammer and pointed it at her, pressing the muzzle hard against her forehead.

"I'll get it…" she gasped, "I'll get it…please…"

"Please," the younger man laughed. "Always nice when they say please."

Slowly she reached down, her hand roaming into the space below the bar, searching for the metal edge of the cashbox, unable to tear her gaze away from his, the cold steel still against her head. As she reached, her fingers brushed the handle of the Colt and, once again, she thought about whether or not she could use it.

"If you've got a gun hidden down there, don't even think about it," the older man said, as though reading her mind. "I'll kill you and take the money anyway."

"I don't…I won't…"

"Hurry up."

Thankfully, she finally felt the edge of the cashbox and lifted it slowly up and onto the bar.

"Thank you very much," the young man said, sliding it effortlessly away from her.

"You've been very helpful miss," the older man said. "Now, we're gonna walk slowly out of here, get on our horses and ride away. No noise, no fuss and you'll never see either one of us again. Now you ain't gonna follow us or raise any alarm because if you do…I swear we'll come back, I'll let my friend here have his way with you and then I'll kill you. You understand me?" She nodded, unable to speak. "Good." Slowly, he withdrew the gun from her head and the two of them began walking backwards to the door. "Not a sound now, remember."

Seconds later, they had disappeared through the doors and as she heard the sounds of hooves and soft neighing, found herself reaching down beneath the bar and lifting the Colt into her hand. Despite having no earthly idea what she was going to do, she found herself coming around the bar, crossing the floor and hurriedly pushing open the doors, just in time to see the two men disappear around the corner.

"Eloise?"

Looking across the street, she caught sight of Michaela, standing just outside the clinic, her expression one of concern, quickly moving to shock, as her gaze travelled downwards.

"Eloise, you…you have a…a gun?"

"The saloon," she heard herself say, her voice thick sounding in her own ears as the world around her spun on its axis. "They robbed the…"

Then darkness closed in, and she collapsed.