The intruder flew from the house on feet that seemed only to graze the ground before black booted 
feet pumped legs farther forward inexplicably fast, without tiring. She was dead! She had to be! The floor was slippery with blood. It was all one human could possibly hold, right? He lover was probably dead too. Never had another head been knocked so hard. Wicked girl! Served her right! It would have been easier if the man had not been there, but he didn’t cause too much of a problem. Wicked, wicked girl. What kind of a woman would have an un-chaperoned visit from a man in her home? What was worse was that he was a heathen! Gushing giggles of glee gurgled into a throat closed tight in anticipation of being heard. A celebration would be much better suited for the hotel room. The figure ran to safely. The night, an unwitting accomplice swallowed even the shadow up. 

Will halted in his scathing commentary about the poor job his bus boy was doing. He cocked his head 
to the side, straining his ears. 

 "What is that?" He looked at the quaking bus boy.

 "Don’t hear nothin’ sir."

"It..it sounds like my daughter’s name." Will’s spine went rigid. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Someone was screaming his daughter’s name. 

Will raced outside. He pushed his aging body heedless of its boisterous complaints. His baby was in
trouble. He could feel it. The door to his home was standing wide open. Inside, he could see nothing but endless depths of inky darkness. His frantic rush to get into the house roused the attention of the guards that were supposed to be protecting his daughter. They lazily loped to the foot of the stairs wanting to know "What got into him?" The only thing that stopped him from throttling them on the spot, was his need to get to his Lilah.

"Lilah! Lilah honey, answer me! Baby please answer me!" Will’s voice was completely unknown to
him. It was the ragged staccato screech of some pained animal, surely not his voice. He dashed into
the home, feeling his way through. His breathing became labored, and his entire body took on a violent
tremor when he heard glass crunching crisply underneath his feet. A feeble glimmer of light called him
forward only to find the making for many a year of nightmares. His only child and her newfound friend
lay in a crumpled heap, surrounded by a thickening pool of blood. He stumbled to them, screaming
incoherently. He checked his daughter first. Her chest wasn’t moving.

"Oh my…dear…no, no, no, no," he cried. "She’s not breathing." He informed the surrounding shroud of black that seemed to lurk ominously about the room. Will hauled his daughter into his lap, and 
began to shake her violently.

"You can’t leave me! You can’t. Fight Lilah, baby please, fight." A loud gasp stilled the frantic father.
Lilah’s mouth hung open, as she gasped for air. Her eyes were huge glassy black orbs, not focusing on
anything.

 "Lilah? Lilah, talk to me." 

 She looked at him, she seemed to be trying to focus on him, but her eyes rolled back in her head. Will
 leaned in to make sure she was still breathing. He felt her warm breath on his cheek, and took a
 relieved breath. 

Teaspoon Hunter glared at the three deputies that Kid had assigned to guard Lilah Wilson. He had sent Kid to investigate the grounds around the house as well as the scene of the attack. There was no way he was going to sit idly by when one if his boys had been so viciously attacked. 

 "What were you doing?"

 "We was watching the door."

 "Then how did someone get in?"

 "Well," Horace Walker, the least competent and subsequently the most honest of the threesome
 answered. "We saw your boy, Buck go in there, and we figured she was all right."

 "What did you do after he went into the house?" Teaspoon queried.

 "We uh," Horace began, but was silenced by a dirty look from the man to his right, Gordon Middlton.
 Silence descended upon the room, and its inhabitants. 

Teaspoon felt as if every one of his years had some how multiplied, and were weighing like a leaden
albatross around his neck. Buck hadn’t come to yet, and the Wilson girl wasn’t likely to make it through the night. The doc said that she’d lost so much blood by the time help arrived that there 
wasn’t much hope for her. Teaspoon felt a cold knot form in his gut. He’d heard a very similar statement from the doctor right before Ike died.

 Leaning into the faces of the seated deputies, Teaspoon ground out, "I want to know what you was
 doin’ while Buck was getting his head smashed in, and that poor girl was bleeding to death." He was
 unable to finish his statement for a wide-eyed Horace blurted, "She’s dead?"

"Not quite yet, but the doctor seems to think it won’t be much longer," Teaspoon replied, with venom
obvious in his voice.

 "I’m real sorry." Horace fiddled with the brim of his hat. "We didn’t mean no harm. We though Buck
 would take care of things." A raunchy snort sounded from Gordon.

 "We sure did think he’d take care of things. If you know what I mean!" He hooted at his joke.
 Teaspoon pulled him from his chair by his dingy white shirt. 

"You’re fired," Teaspoon forced the words out from between clenched teeth. He shared his wrath with
the others, "and so are you two. Get out of my sight."
 

Chapter 7

Visions of death and destruction ran in an endless cycle through Buck’s mind. He was aware that he
was in pain, but he was still far enough away from it that it didn’t bother him much. The loop of horrific
images continued to play ceaselessly. He kept seeing Lilah covered in blood. Then he found himself at
Ike’s funeral, but Lilah was the one that was lying on the funeral pyre. The pain was closer now. It
sent a shockingly strong wave of fiery agony across the back of his skull. He tried to fight his way back
into consciousness, but the severity of the pain sent him reeling back into oblivion. 

Finally an intangible need for something he couldn’t quite remember made him surface. Before 
opening his eyes, he listened to the sounds around him. There was a rhythmic squeaking of a rocking chair. He had to fight to keep the sound of it from lulling him back into the heart-rending visions that had plagued him during his sleep. He also heard bit and pieces of whispered conversation. Mundane mumbled phrases like, "This is such a nice clinic…The doctor is doing all he can…how many hours until… " He could make no sense of them. 

There was also another noise. It was grievous weeping. The sound so disturbed Buck with its deep 
and resounding sorrow that he wished he could make it stop. Only then did he notice that a small hand was wrapped around his. Slowly he opened his eyes only to be subjected to a jarring light that besieged his all ready throbbing skull. With startling clarity, Buck remembered what had happened. He shot up from the bed on which he was lying, screaming Lilah’s name.

The strength of the assaulting pain was astonishing and unexpected. Shards of light speared into his
head, wild images rolled recklessly across his vision, too vivid colors swarmed in his sight, the attack
was so relentless that it seemed to submerge him in murky visions and pain so profound it seemed to be clogging his airways. He was drowning in the most unfavorable sensations. He couldn’t breathe. It was too difficult to concentrate on pulling air into his lungs, especially when it seemed too thick to breathe. The pain screaming in his head felt like ground glass being stirred by a strong hand inside his skull. The ache was heavy and sharp, and still it was nothing compared to the grief that was brimming throughout his chest with the hateful joviality of the childhood bullies that still haunted his dreams. 

 Buck stopped fighting the hands that pushed him back toward his sweat soaked pillow. Blindly, he
 obliged, but continued to call out Lilah’s name.

The hand that still held his was squeezing his fingers together in an icy grip. He heard Lou’s voice in his ear. She was trying to calm him down, but he just couldn’t until he knew that Lilah was okay. He was tossing his head, trying with hopelessly blurred vision to see someone who might be able or 
willing to tell him where she was.

 "Please! Please, I need to know. Is she okay?"

 A heavy silence swelled in the room. 

"No, no, no…" Buck cried, fitfully trying to free himself of the blankets that surrounded him with their
cloying medicinal odor. Pulling his hand from Lou’s grasp, he launched himself heedlessly out of the
bed, ignoring the fire that blazed in his head. His legs refused their burden, and he fell into a graceless
heap onto the floor. The continual creak of the rocking chair stopped as Teaspoon, fresh from firing
three deputies, leapt out of it to put the errant patient back to rights. With Teaspoon on one side and
Mr. Wilson on the other, Buck couldn’t fight his way free of them without making his stomach threaten
to empty its contents. He clamped his mouth shut, against the ensuing onslaught of nausea. He
squeezed his eyes shut and opened them up again, trying to clear his sight. The fuzzy screen over his
eyes seemed to dissipate for a moment. He saw who it was that had hold him. His eyes focused on the
tear stained face of Lilah’s father. 

"Mr. Wilson," he rasped. "I’m sorry. I’m so sorry." Bile surged into his throat. He swallowed the bitter liquid back down and continued, "all my fault. Should have locked the door."

Mr. Wilson looked at the stricken young man. He was somewhat vindicated in the fact that he could
put the blame for this nightmare on someone’s shoulders, but he was unable to do that to Buck because he knew it wasn’t the young man’s fault. After all, he could not forget that Buck had nearly gotten himself killed in the process of protecting his Lilah. 

 "Son," he stared into Buck’s face for a moment, unsure as to whether or he’d been heard. "Son, it
 wasn’t your fault. Lilah’s still-" his voice cracked. "She’s breathing."

 A brightly glowing ray of hope infused the young man’s features.

 "She’s alive?" came Buck’s whispered reply. Will’s face collapsed. He stepped away from Buck,
 allowing Teaspoon to finish getting Buck back in bed.

"The doctor isn’t holding out much hope. He says that he can stitch up the gash in her head, but he,"
Will pressed his hands to his face, taking in a shuddery breath. "He can’t put all that blood back in her.
Head injuries bleed a lot." He added the last part of his statement in such a strange offhand manner
that Lou worried over him for a moment instead of Buck. 

 The desperate hope that clung in Buck’s eyes went black. 

"I’ve heard that before." He limply allowed himself to be tucked back into bed as he stared unseeing at a wall. "Where is she?"

 "Don’t you see her?" Buck looked at Mr. Wilson quizzically. The older man stepped back to allow
 Buck to see one of the other beds that occupied the room. Lilah, head swathed in bandages, lie eerily
 still in the lamplight. 

His heart sank into his stomach. It lurched there, like an angry stallion intent on leaving the corral. Buck tried again to exit the bed, but Teaspoon held him down.

 "You ain’t goin’ nowhere, son." 

"I need to touch her, Teaspoon. I need to know she’s really there." In silent communication, 
Teaspoon and Mr. Wilson stood side by side, and pushed Buck’s bed up against Lilah’s. Trembling bronzed fingers laced in between the slender soft digits of Lilah’s right hand. Buck’s anguished eyes reached out to the huffing twosome who stood beside his bed.

 "Thank you," he murmured, and again fell into a healing and restful slumber.

He awoke some time in mid morning with his hand still wrapped protectively around Lilah’s. The room
was silent, the other occupants asleep on various forms of furniture. Mr. Wilson was sitting in a chair,
with his upper body folded on the bed at Lilah’s side. Quiet snoring rose from his direction. Buck was
glad he was getting some rest. He turned back to Lilah. She looked like an angel, ethereal, and
peaceful. A cry caught in his throat. Taking his hand from hers, he gently rested it above her mouth 
and nose. A light warmth there allayed his worst fears. She was still with him. 

He wondered if she were in any pain. He wanted to be able to touch her, and take away all of the hurt,
and gift her with his strength. His head was only a mild irritation. He had always been a fast healer. He
just wished he could give that trait to Lilah. She needed his strength now. Closing his eyes, he could see her with her shoulders drawn back, and her stubborn chin raised haughtily, looking like she could take over the world with her indomitable spirit, and her Italian Cream Cake. Maybe she did have the
strength to make it through. But a persistent thought nagged. What if she didn’t, like Ike hadn’t? His
breath seemed to thicken in his throat. It was just beyond comprehension. Lilah couldn’t die. She had
only just come into his life. She had been the first ray of sunshine in the dismal existence that had been
his life since Ike died. He finally had someone he connected with on such a deep level. There was no
way he could do it again. He couldn’t pick up the pieces after another loss. He’d lost his mother, his
brother for all practical purposes, his best friend, and Noah. The room was shrinking in on him. The
light was fading, ushering in a bleak and demanding world that he just didn’t have the heart to face. He
needed Lilah, and she needed help. For the first time since Ike died, he prayed. He prayed like Lilah
said she and her father had done nightly, hoping that her God would be more merciful than had his. He
stared into the chasm of despair, and anger, and outright hatred at a God or spirits who would take his
friend, his brother from him. He swallowed every rant born of loss that he ever hurled at the faceless
creatures he’d prayed to as a child, as well as at the white God that had been shoved down his throat at
the mission school. He stood balancing precariously at the edge of something inconceivably larger 
than himself. Indecision, the last vestiges of anger, doubt, they all nagged at him, but he looked farther than those petty things, to Lilah who was helpless and needed him. Lilah, who had liked him for him. Lilah, who never had to be won over to see beyond the darkness of his skin. Lilah, with those extraordinary eyes that beckoned to him every time he pictured her face. Lilah, whose fire and grit made her the manifestation his dreams had always conjured. Again he contemplated this chasm. Without looking back, he leapt over it. 

Infinitely lighter, with his baggage left behind in the useless void, he asked for forgiveness. He 
begged, his pride puddled somewhere around his feet, for Lilah to survive. For the longest time, he 
lay absolutely still, talking to God like a long lost and dear friend. He was unaware of the cleansing tears that coursed down from his closed eyes, he was unaware of pain, or cold, or his growling 
stomach. He was only aware of a growing sense of peace. 

Gingerly turning over on his side, he took her hand again. He lightly rubbed the side of her hand with his thumb.

"Take some strength from me. Take anything you need from me." Exhausted, he fell again into a deep
sleep.

A persistent tickle irritated Buck awake. He growled at the source of it. A lilting giggle tugged him
quickly into wakefulness. His eyes popped open. Lilah, her frighteningly pale face hovered above him,
had hold of his hair, and was tickling his face with it. 

"Good afternoon sleepy head." Her voice was raspier than he remembered, and she looked intolerably
fragile and tired, but she was alive, and awake! 

 "Lilah!" He cupped her face in his palm. She wasn’t a dream! She was warm and soft, and undeniably
 alive. He whooped for joy, and resurrected his fierce headache with the happy crowing. 

Recuperation was slow and tedious, but it was still recuperation, which was good in that it was living.
Buck and Lilah spent as much time together as possible. Lilah read to Buck. Buck brushed her hair as
soon as the gash in her head had healed enough for it. They talked about any and every subject that
they wanted. They both, unbeknownst to the other cursed recuperation for its close proximity to visitors and the doctor. The closer they got, the more they longed to enjoy some physical form of the delight they found in being together. They both found vestiges of that horrible night in the form of 
glass that was still trapped under the skin of knees, elbows, and scalps. Together they found solace. Together they found joy, humor, healing, and hope for a bright future. The only matter that marred their happiness was uncertainty. Did the night intruder have more anguish in store for them? 

Uneventful weeks had passed. The weather had moved from an arid heat, to a chilling medley of cold
breezes and colder rain. The day was blissfully mild, and Lilah had all of the windows open to let the
beautiful day in. Enormous white veined clouds swirled thick in the vivid blue sky. Today would be
special. Lilah could feel something delightful, and sweet, and spicy all molded into one fluttering wildly
in her stomach. Today was the first day her father had left her in the house alone! Teaspoon was in a
chair at the bottom of the stairway that led to the only external doorway of the home, but he wouldn’t
be close enough to disallow some privacy. Besides, Buck would be there any moment to take her for a
Walk. The doctor had finally bowed to her wishes for some exercise. She’d had strong feelings for
Buck from the day she had first met him, but circumstances had not allowed them so much as a kiss.
They were so close. They had discussed their hopes, their dreams, their mutual love of books, their
mutual hopes for a large family someday, they had even spoken in depth of the pain of losing parents,
and Buck’s utter devastation at losing his friend Ike. It was preposterous for them to have had such a
miserably platonic relationship. 

Who spent months building a relationship with a man, and did nothing more than hold his hand? Just that was a torturous tease in its own right. Anytime he nudged her, or his hand grazed her bare skin, 
an intolerable heat spread over her entire body, and she was filled with such a mind blowing longing 
for more, that she was unable to even speak for many moments after. When they held hands, it was 
like she was walking into a new world. No matter how dark her day was, no matter how weak she had
been, or how badly her head hurt, as soon as his dry, warm, work roughened hands wrapped around
hers she felt as if she had grown wings and could fly as easily as clouds did. If Buck Cross were in the
room, Lilah could fly. She was sure of it! Another thing she was sure of was that if she didn’t get a kiss
today, she’d very likely explode! 
 

Chapter 8

Teaspoon glared at all of the passers by. He knew most of them, and yet he continued aiming his glare
generously at all who noticed him. One of the main reasons for his foul mood was the fact that the
monster that had nearly killed Lilah, and more importantly messed with one of "his" boys had not been
brought to justice. Teaspoon would have preferred for him to be brought to the end of a rope, but at this point, he was willing for anything if it meant this mess would be over. His ground his teeth together. If he knew his boys, and he did know his boys, Kid was feeling guilty for not catching the son of a bitch that tried to do Buck and Lilah in and Buck was miserable because he had no private time with the woman he was in love with. And Buck was in love with Lilah, of that Teaspoon had no doubt. That boy was so smitten, the dust mites knew it! At least that was one good thing. Now that Buck was back to his old self, he trusted his strength enough to go off alone with his lady. After all, the boy had been back to work full time at his horse ranch for weeks. He was supposed to be there shortly, and Teaspoon scanned face for him. He didn’t see Buck, but something did catch his eye. She was sauntering along, pretty as the day is long. She was trim, and right around his age, Teaspoon surmised. She was wearing a nice little peach dress that clung in all the right places. He caught her eye, and tipped his hat. She seemed a little frightened of him, and skittered away a few steps. But then she stopped and sauntered over to him. 

 "Pardon me, sir, but I do believe you were staring." 

 "Yes ma’am I certainly was." He beamed at her, completely unapologetic. She considered him for a
 moment. 

 "Didn’t your mama ever teach you that staring is rude?"

"My mama taught me to appreciate things of beauty." Teaspoon leaned back in his chair, and grinned
toothily at her with one silver eyebrow arched in a strictly Teaspoon version of gloating. She pursed her lips together, but a smile emerged. She stepped closer, and held out her hand.

 "I’m Lindsey."

 "They call me Teaspoon. At your service ma’am." With a flirtatious wink, he tipped his hat. 

 "Might I ask why you are sitting around staring at people?" she inquired.

 "I’m the Mayor, but I used to be the Marshal, you see. I’m keeping an eye on a friend for the current
 Marshal. It’s just part o’ doin’ my mayoral duties."

 "I see."

"As it happens, Lindsey, I’m about to be relieved of my duties. Would you care to accompany me for a
stroll? I can tell you’re new in our fair city. I’d love to give you a tour of Rock Creek."

 "Well, Teaspoon," she smiled broadly. "As it happens, I have no plans today." 

 "Well, Miss Lindsey, I’m just pleased as punch to hear tha-" Teaspoon’s statement dropped off as a
 shadow passed over them. He found himself staring at Buck who was looking from Lindsey to
 Teaspoon with a huge grin on his face.

 "Well, it’s about time you showed up! Don’t you know I got things to do today, son?"

 "Looks like my timing’s just about right, Teaspoon." The laughter in his tone was unmistakable.
 Teaspoon sniffed at him, and hooked his thumbs under his suspenders.

 "I think you’re getting’ a little too big for your britches, Buck." Teaspoon grinned lopsidedly at the
 former rider. Buck ignored the jibe, and pretended to take it seriously. 

 "I know, It’s Lilah’s cookin’." That earned him a full out guffaw from Teaspoon. Standing, and dusting
 off his pants, Teaspoon gestured toward Buck. "Lindsey, this here is Buck Cross. We go back a long
 ways." Teaspoon was a little dismayed at the way she was looking at Buck. She seemed frightened of
 him. He’d tried to ignore the fact that she’d stiffened up at Buck’s arrival. He had been hoping she
 was just surprised at a stranger’s approach. It was undeniable now. She stared, wide-eyes at him, as if
 she were afraid he’d make off with her scalp if she moved. He moved toward her, trying to assuage
 her tension. He rested a hand on her shoulder, and looked at Buck, hoping that he hadn’t noticed her ill ease. 

 "This is Miss Lindsey, I’m sorry I ain’t got around to askin’ for her last name." He grinned giddily at
 Buck. A conspiratorial gleam was shining bright in Buck’s eyes. 

"Well, then Teaspoon. I suppose you ought to get to, getting to know her better!" he smiled as benignly as he could at the frightened woman, and offered his hand.

 "Nice to meet you, ma’am." Hesitantly, she took his proffered hand in a rushed and clumsy shake.

 "Uh…yes, a pleasure I’m sure." 

"Well," Teaspoon cleared his throat. "I’ve got better things to do today than flappin’ my gums with you! If I remember correctly, so do you! You’re taking her to Milton Hill aren’cha?" Teaspoon said
 knowingly. Milton Hill was a notorious place for lovers to be alone. Nodding with a blush spreading
 fluidly through his cheeks, Buck waved them off, and took the stairs to Lilah’s door two at a time.

The clouds were growing thicker, and darker. They were growing heavy with the promise of a storm.
The beautiful blue of the morning’s sky was changing over to a brooding mottled gray. It was beautiful
and haunting. It reminded Buck of Lilah. She was the stormiest person he’d ever known. There wasn’t
a mild mannered bone in her body, and he loved her for it. She was stormy, brooding, and passionate.
Of the latter he was certain without any real proof. In fact, they had had no physical contact at all
today. He preferred it that way because he knew that once he got his hands on her, he wouldn’t want
to let her go. She had that passionate spark in her that lit him up like the noon day sky. He watched her. Shortly after they had begun their venture into the grasslands, Lilah had tugged all of the pins in her hair free. Fiery corkscrews of shimmering hair roamed wildly down her back, and climbed down 
the downy white column of her throat to roll gently over the full round curve of her bosom. The color, long missing from her cheeks was glowing there, anew. She took every step with confidence, and lacked the tripping and unsure steps of some one who was over tired, but he worried. He’d come so close to losing her.

 "Are you sure you’re not getting too tired?" Buck sent a worried glance her way. Lilah rolled her big
 black eyes.

 "Are you?" 

 "No, I just…I was just…"

 "Checking, I know. If you check again, so help me Buck Cross I’ll trip you!" 

 "Yes ma’am," he chuckled.

 "So, do you have a specific destination, or are we just wandering aimlessly?"

 "I have a destination."

 "And where would that be?"

 "Just a little farther."

 "You didn’t answer my question."

 "Milton Hill."

 "Milton Hill?"

"Yeah, it’s a grassy hill with a big old oak tree right in the middle. It’s real pretty, it’s real quiet, and it’s real-"

"Private?" she interrupted. His eyebrow quirked up, as he dropped his shoulder and shoved the opposite hand in the waistband of his pants to make sure his shirt was still tucked neatly in. He couldn’t stifle a grin at that; the proof hung tenaciously on his lips. He was pretty desperate for some privacy as well.

 "Very," he smirked at her. 

Mere minutes later, Milton hill rose up big and green from the ground in front of them. The thick
ancient tree seemed to reach its naked limbs toward the quickly darkening sky in supplication. It was so heavily shadowed by the enormous gray swell in the sky that it looked like a blackened hand reaching dead fingers toward a dangerous sky. The sight was breathtaking. Most people would find it creepy, and demand to be rushed home, but Lilah was awed by it. She stared reverently at the sight, wishing to impress it permanently on her brain. It was the tumultuous thrumming in the sky, she decided that was making her feel so…alive. She felt it was charging her, like a lighting bolt. She was pulsing with the power of it. She wanted nothing more than to touch the wicked looking tree that seemed so close to reaching the angry sky, and infuse Buck with what was zinging through her body. She wanted to fill his senses like he did hers. Like this amazing place he’d brought her had done.

 "Is this it?" Her eyes glittered all the brighter in the dimness of the day.

"Yep." As soon as his answer left his mouth, she was running heedlessly toward the pinnacle of the 
hill.

"Last one there’s a rotten egg!" she called playfully behind her. Buck needed no more prompting. He
lunged into a dead run.

Despite his full speed running, Lilah made it to the tree first. He silently blamed her huge head start for that. She leaned against the tree, laughing breathlessly. 

"I win!" she gasped. She was leaning heavily, her back against the tree with her palms flattened out
against its rough bark. She marveled at how it was so rough and moist at the same time. Nature was
such a phenomenal contradiction. It was hard and soft, ugly and beautiful, but that was not the most
paramount thing on her mind at the moment. Buck had caught up to her. He was pressed against her,
with his hands braced above her head on the huge old oak. Their faces hovered centimeters apart. The
moment lengthened, excruciatingly. Lilah wanted his mouth on her so badly, but she was rooted to the
tree. She couldn’t move for fear of breaking the spell. Her black eyes locked onto his warm brown
ones. It was coming. Something tremendous was about to occur. She was waiting for it. She wanted it,
and had for over a month. She hovered, on the brink of entertaining her fantasies when a shard of
lightning blazed through the air, cutting a crazy pattern across the horizon. First one fat drop of rain
landed squarely on top of her head, then another, then another. The heavens opened above them, and
purged water by the sheet. It was pelting, and it was cold, and the lovers still had not shifted a muscle.
Buck’s voice seemed to be dragged across yards of broken glass when it emerged.

 "I need to get you back home."

 "No."

 "It’s pouring."

 "I’ll dry." 

That was all he needed. His mouth came crashing down on her with the ferocity of the storm. He took
another step toward her, effectively pinning her completely to the unyielding tree. With his body
pressed against her from chest to knee, she felt protected, and warm…all together too warm. She was
on fire. There were unidentifiable things dancing crazily in her stomach, and they were bursting one by
one into the most delicious flames. Her hands moved from their resting-place to cup his face, but that
wasn’t enough contact. So she shoved them into the soaked mass of his hair. Still, it wasn’t enough.
Leaving one hand in his hair, she dropped the other to his chest. She felt the contours and planes of 
his labor hardened chest. She rested that hand momentarily over his heart. It was pounding madly. She
slowly eased her palm down his belly. A shiver pulsed through the muscles there. She longed to tear
the shirt off. It was an impediment. She wanted his skin on hers, the way his lips were on hers. His
mouth was hot, molding, caressing, taking, giving, and used with the expert touch of a master. 

 The only thing that told Buck he wasn’t dreaming was the pain of the steadily pelting rain. It was like
 hundreds of sharpened needles being fired at his back. Lilah on the other hand, was a sensual medley
 of taste and touch. He wanted to touch every part of her without losing the taste of her mouth. He ran
 his hands over the crown of her blazing auburn head, over her smooth graceful throat, and he rested
 them on her shoulders while running his thumbs over her collarbones. Trailing his lips over her cheek, he whispered in her ear.

 "I’ve wanted this from the moment I saw you." 

Her reply was an incoherent groan, as she pressed into him. He dropped his hands to her waist, 
pulling her even more firmly into him. His lips found her neck, and he dropped light kisses along the silky skin from ear to shoulder. Her breath was coming in gasps, as was his. He reversed his movement, running back up to her ear nipping at her with his teeth. Upon finding his quarry, he pulled her ear into his mouth, and gently bit down on it. A sharp moan from her brought his eyes back to 
hers. Pitch pools stared back at him from under heavy lidded eyes.

"Who told you to stop that?" she pouted, pulling his shirt out of his pants to touch the flesh of his 
belly.

He wasn’t one to disappoint. He lowered his hands to cup her backside as he moved his kisses from
her ear, to the pearly expanse of skin below her chin. She tipped her head back to give him access. He
had a mind to rip the dress right off of her, but didn’t want her roaming about the countryside naked. A
noise of protest forced him to move his hands. He was apparently impeding her success with his shirt.
He hadn’t even noticed that she’d been unbuttoning it. Without letting any space in between them, he
pushed her back up against the tree. Pressing his legs in between hers, he yanked at layers of skirt,
trying brazenly to get to her legs. Finally, he had made his way through the ocean of fabric, and he
groped blindly for the smooth skin of her legs. It was not smooth when he found it. It was roughened
with gooseflesh. Lifting his head, he breathed, "Are you cold?" 

 "Only when you aren’t touching me." With that, she pulled one of his hands to her chest. She placed it
 squarely between her breasts, over her heart. It was hammering with more force that the storm that
 was in the process of emptying its rage out on them.

Her hand still pressed over his, she murmured breathlessly, "You do this to me, even when you aren’t
there, you do this to me." He gaped at her. The endless depth of her eyes held nothing from him. He
knew there had to be a better time for his question, but he needed to know. With one hand still poised
over her heart, he wrapped the other snugly around her freshly bared thigh. He stared deep into her
eyes.

 "Do you love me, Lilah? I need to know. Do you love me?"

 Time stopped. The storm raging around them suddenly seemed to have taken residence in his chest.
 Lilah stared at him in disbelief. Her hand came up to his face. 

 "I’ll love you until the day I die." 

Relief flooded him. Joy surged, unadulterated through every cell in his body. "I love you, I love you too," he breathed into her mouth.

"Then for heaven sake, Buck, don’t stop!" She wrapped her arms around him. Like tiny iron bars, 
they clutched him to her. 

 The storm raged around them. It howled furiously at the earth, shooting bolts of branding light
 throughout the sky. Buck and Lilah heard nothing.

A roar of thunder barely grazed Buck’s awareness. It wasn’t until the chunk of tree bark stung his
face that he realized it was not thunder. The situation pressed in on them. Buck was trying to figure 
out how to best protect Lilah when he realized the she was all ready covered by his body. He looked down at her. Wide frightened eyes peered back at him through a veil of disheveled red hair. He absently noted that her knee was in his armpit, although he couldn’t remember when that had happened. He shoved her down to the ground, making sure she was never exposed to the gunfire. He tried in vain to see anything through the pelting sheets of rain. Drawing his gun, just in case he could home in on some muzzle flash, he tried again to separate a human figure from the surrounding 
tempest. Silently Buck cursed his stupidity, yet again. He should never have brought Lilah out so far from cover without even a horse for quick evacuation. Another shot rang through the air. Buck saw 
the muzzle flash, aimed, and fired all in one steady breath. He waited, but heard nothing. He would 
have been happy with something as trivial as a grunt of pain from their attacker. He strained his ears. Now he could hear something, but it wasn’t exactly what he’d been listening for. A wagon. He heard the unmistakable creak and crunch of a wagon. Peering into the darkness, he could barely make out the white hair of William Wilson.
 

Chapter 9

 The gun bounced on the bed, where it had been thrown. The waterlogged shooter was brimming over
 with frustration. Another failed attempt to make everything right. Damn that girl! What was she
 bulletproof? No. No…NO, she couldn’t be. Wasn’t possible. Didn’t matter. It really didn’t matter.
 There was a trump card to pull. There was always the trump card. That bitch would be dead by
 morning, then everything would be good again. 

 The Wilson living room was swallowed by an unearthly silence. Even the storm had seen fit to remain
 silent. Will stood like a sentry next to the door. Lilah, freshly changed into dry clothes, sat on the sofa
 with her eyes wide, unblinking, and staring at nothing.

 "How long does it take to run and get the Marshal?" Will muttered.

 Lilah continued her silent regard of the air.

"Are you cold, still?" Will asked. She did not even seem to register that someone else was in the 
room with her. Will stalked to her, bent down on a knee, and regarded her closely. Abruptly, her eyes
focused on him.

 "How did you know to come after us?"

 "I just thought that you two were caught in the rain, and needed a ride home." 

 "You were too hard on him, Daddy."

 "I know, I was upset."

 "He was covering me with his own body." Her voice lacked any inflection, or sign that she was all
 together there. "He would have died before he let me get shot."

 "Yes, honey, I know, but at the time, all I could see was that my daughter was soaked to the bone,
 covered in mud, and in grave danger."

"He could have died." Her eyes still wide onyx orbs, turned on him. "He would have died for me." A fat tear slid slowly down her cheek. Will was worried that the me in her statement sounded harsh and raw. He understood that she was worth giving up his life for, so why didn’t she understand that Buck was willing to do the same? With a startling jolt, Will realized why she was so upset. She loved the young man. A heavy ache settled in his chest. Even if he didn’t lose his daughter to the madman who stalked so diligently, he was going to lose her to Buck Cross. He’d take the latter any day over the former. He took her hands.

 "You love him," the statement was a flat referral to the truth, not a question.

 "I can’t lose him, Daddy. I can’t."

 "Right now, we’re both more concerned with you." William’s heart broke anew as a precession of
 crystalline tears made their way down his daughter’s pale cheeks. 

 Voices and heavy clomping boot heels sounded on the stairs to the door. Will left Lilah to go to the
 door. Three men, sopping wet from the continued torrent, strode into the room. 

 Teaspoon surveyed the scene. Lilah sat on the couch, looking like a bedraggled porcelain doll. Will
 stood at the door, his entire body stiff with stress. Buck was still shaking visibly, and kept staring at
Lilah as if he expected a bullet wound to suddenly appear somewhere on her person. Kid stood next to
 him, ready to take charge. They had all ready discussed a strategy of action. They were going to stash
 Lilah someplace safe, that no one knew about until they could figure out who the threat was. They had
 every intention of doing this, no matter how vociferously Lilah objected. As soon as they had her
 stashed, Kid was going to check out the area around Milton Hill to see if he could glean any new
 information about the attacker. Will and Buck would undoubtedly refuse to leave Lilah alone, which
 suited Teaspoon just fine. He wasn’t planning to either. The way he saw it, she was the mother of his
 future grandchildren, and he wasn’t letting her or Buck down.

As discussions of the plan soared over the room, Lilah continued sitting absolutely still, clinging to
Buck’s hand as if she thought he were some kind of apparition who might disappear without notice. As
for Buck, he stood next to the sofa, not willing to soak the couch with the water that still covered him
thickly from coat to skin. Ignoring the discussion of a suitable safe house, Lilah tugged at Buck’s hand
as she silently exited the couch. The couple went unnoticed as they left the room hand in hand. 

 Upon walking into her bedroom, Buck remembered a night much worse that this. The memory of
 holding Lilah’s limp and blood covered body came crashing down on him with bone shattering force.
 He stood, in the middle of the room, where she left him. She disappeared into a closet, and came out
 with a towel. Without uttering a word, she began toweling off his hair. With some of the dampness
 pressed from his long inky mane, she began with trembling fingers to unbutton his shirt. Buck caught
 her hands in his.

 "Lilah, we can’t-" 

 She cut off his words by pulling him by the shirt down to her. She caught his mouth in a scorching kiss
 that exercised every single chill from his body. Then she looked up at him with the oddest expression on her face, and continued to remove his shirt. Something about her eyes made him stand still while she effectively signed his death certificate being that her father was a room away! But for some reason,
 that didn’t seem to matter so much. Chills of an entirely new nature began to wrack his body. When
 she’d disengaged the last button, she tugged off the sodden shirt, and dropped it with a splatter to the
 floor. She took up her towel again, and gently dried his chest, arms, and back.

"If you go for his pants, you’re grounded young lady." Will’s quasi-stern voice interrupted the molten
liquid sensation that had pooled low in Buck’s belly. "We’ve decided. Get packed." With that, he was
gone. Lilah stared up at Buck, and it wasn’t just her words that caught him off guard, it was the steel in
her voice.

 "Don’t ever, do that again."

 "What?"

 "Try to leave me."

 "Lilah, I wasn’t trying-"

 "You could have been killed."

 "You were the target."

 "You could have been killed."

 "I wasn’t."

 "That’s not enough."

 "What do you want me to say?"

 "That you’re invincible."

 "That’d be a lie." He gave her a wan smile. Her face seemed to fracture. It drew up on itself as
 trickles of moisture rode down her cheeks.

 "I don’t want to lose you."

 "Then I guess we’re even."
 

Chapter 10

 The safe house was an abandoned shack that stood about twelve feet wide, ten feet deep, and had no
 windows. It wasn’t exactly a vacation house, but it would work for what they had in mind. 

 Lilah stared dubiously at the structure. She vehemently hoped that they wouldn’t be there long.

 "Aren’t we sitting ducks out here with no windows to check for…um…bad guys from?" she queried. 

 "No," Teaspoon answered her. "We have two doors that we can use to check with, and there are no
 windows to see you with. That way he can’t just wait to get you in his sights and kill you from the
 window."

"Oh," she whispered into the crisp air. The rain had stopped, leaving a stiff chill in its wake. Lilah was
glad that her father had loaned Buck some dry clothes. He looked ridiculous in Will’s oversized pants,
and shirt, but at least he was dry. They all crowded into the shack. Will took up a revolver that
Teaspoon had handed him, and took up residence at the back door. Buck took position at the front door. Lilah settled herself into a corner, on the dirt floor, and began to pray for all she was worth. 

 With a flourish, Teaspoon noted that everyone was well occupied except for him. 

"I’m goin’ back to town to round up some more deputies. I’ll bring’em back with me so’s you and Will
can rest up. Buck you might want to use that time to go pack up some things, and give your men
whatever instructions they need for the ranch while you’re at it."

 Buck shot Teaspoon a petulant glance. "I’m not going anywhere, Teaspoon."

 "Yup, I figured on that. That’s why I sent the Collins boy from town to tell your hands they was gonna
 be missin’ you for a bit." 

 Buck nodded. Teaspoon gloated. As he was leaving from the front door, Teaspoon sidled up next to
 Buck.

 "Everything’s gonna be fine, son. Just you wait and see." With that, he left.

 Lilah watched the rigid forms of her father and Buck.

 "No one knows where we are. Is it absolutely necessary to stand in the doorway like that?"

 Teaspoon was fuming. No one was in the Marshal’s office besides Barnett who needed to stay right
 where he was manning the office. Teaspoon plopped in a chair, and decided to wait them out. Some
 one was bound to come in. He might as well wait to see if Kid found out anything interesting at Milton
 Hill.

 Teaspoon’s mood was lightened considerably when Lindsey came to visit. She was wearing the same
 peach dress she’d been wearing since their walk. It seemed odd because it felt like a week since he’d
 seen her when in actuality it was the very same day in which they’d had their stroll. She looked lovely,
 even though she was still a little damp from the dash they had been forced to make to get in out of the
 rain. It felt like a lifetime ago when he’d dropped her off at her hotel. She was standing in the doorway
 with something behind her back. Her stance made Teaspoon ill at ease. 

 "Well, how are you Miss, Lindsey?"

 "I’m just fine. I was feeling a little lonely, and so I thought I’d drop by for a spell. I got a craving for a
 pie, and I bought this one hoping you might share it with me." She pulled the pie box from behind her
 back. Teaspoon immediately sagged with relief.

 "Well, that was mighty good of you."

 "Do you have something to cut it with?"

 "No, I’m afraid I don’t." 

 She pouted prettily at him. "Well, then whatever am I supposed to do with it."

 "Well, actually, I know of someone who might be cheered up with that pie."

 "Oh, really?" She sauntered over to his chair.

 "I have a friend, you see. Well, he’s more like my son. Anyway, his lady friend is in a spot of trouble.
 They been holed up most of the day with nothing to eat and…"

 "And you want to take them this pie?"

 "It would be nice."

 "I agree. Should I go with you? Maybe I could help keep the girl company while the men are working?"

 "No. It could be dangerous. I wouldn’t want to put you in harm’s way, now would I?"

"Well, I shouldn’t think so." The dropped the pie lightly into his lap. "Tell your friends that I hope this
cheers them up. I’ll get out of your hair since you’re in the middle of something. I’ll see you later." 

 "I’ll look forward to it!" 

 With a swish of peach skirts, she was gone. He stared at the pie box with a goofy smile on his face.
 Since it was taking Kid forever and a day to get back with some information, he decided to head to
 Lilah’s Place, ironically enough, to pick up dinner for Buck, Will, and Lilah. The pie would be a nice
 touch.

Kid stared in disbelief at the tracks. He’d had no luck tracking the gunman from town, so he’d decided
to start from around Milton Hill, and go back. He scratched at the sandy waves of hair under his hat.
No man had feet that small. The gunman was a woman. He leaped astride of his horse, and took off.
Teaspoon had to hear this. 

Jackie Lindsey followed Teaspoon to the restaurant, then to someone’s house, and almost lost patience. After what felt to her like a wild goose chase, she followed him. Knowing that he would see and hear her if she followed him on the main road, she kept her mount off road. It was an overgrown and winding path, but she was fairly certain that the fact was a blessing, not a detriment to her mission. She went by the sound of Teaspoon’s horse, clomping steadily down the never-ending road. After a
nerve-racking ride that seemed to take an eternity, the sound of hoofbeats ceased. As silently as she
could, she dropped off of her rented horse. She found a clearing small enough to see the cabin. The
half-breed was standing in the doorway. Damn. How many men where in there? She fingered the gun
in her pocket. She wasn’t a very good shot, even though she had been practicing. She was hoping that
Lilah would be alone when she got to her. Of course, that hadn’t worked in the restaurant, and she’d
been mistaken the second time when she thought the girl to be alone. Oddly enough, that had been 
the closest she’d come to accomplishing her task. Now she had the Indian, Lilah, and Teaspoon to 
deal with for sure. 

She wondered where William was. He couldn’t be hurt. In fact, he couldn’t see what happened. She
had to kill his meddling daughter without being found out. That way, she could help him grieve. That
way, he’d love her again. Maybe if it was just the three in the cabin, she would get lucky or her
practice would show up. No one would ever believe a woman was capable of such a thing. She was
though. She was. William would love her again, and his wicked little whore of a daughter would rot in
hell where she belonged. A crazed giggle crawled into her throat, heedless of the ramifications of 
being heard. It was here. The time of reckoning was at hand! She would have her life back. She would be a wealthy and respectable woman again. Lilah was going to pay. Today. With blood. Lilah had to die
today!

 "Teaspoon!" Kid burst into the Marshal’s office that doubled as the Mayor’s office. "Teaspoon!"

 "He ain’t here Kid," Barnett drawled.

 "Where is he?"

 "He’s bringing a pie to Buck."

 "What?"

 "A lady brought him a pie, and he’s bringing it to Buck, and his lady."

 "Oh, no!" Kid raced out the door. He just hoped he could make it to the cabin on time.

 William looked over from his post to Teaspoon.

 "I smell something good."

"Yes, you do," Teaspoon grinned. He started tugging little cloth wrapped parcels of food out of a huge
canvas bag. Lilah gave an appreciative groan at the smell of a roast beef sandwich. 

"Those are from our place, aren’t they? We make the best roast beef." She jumped up from her spot on the floor, hugged Teaspoon enthusiastically and pecked him on the cheek, all the while relieving him of two sandwiches. The first one she brought to her father, and the other went to Buck who also got a kiss. 

 "Excuse me," Will pouted. "I am the only one here who didn’t get a kiss. I’m feeling very left out."

 "Oh! How awful of me." She playfully tiptoed to her father, and gave him a loud smack on the cheek. 

 "Better?" 

 Will made a big show of pondering the situation.

 "No, I don’t think so." 

 She gave his other cheek the same treatment. "How about now?"

 "Yes, definitely better!" 

 Teaspoon watched the girl, bemused. No wonder Buck was so crazy about her. She was in a rotten
 situation. Someone wanted her dead, and she was trying to make everything better for everyone else.
 Teaspoon leaned against the doorjamb. Loudly, he cleared his throat.

 "Now, you see, that ain’t right." Three confused faces stared back at him.

"Well, I was just noticin’ how William there got two kisses, and we only got one Buck. You think 
that’s right?" 

 Buck smirked at Teaspoon’s little game. He always did like the attention of young ladies.

"Oh," Lilah gushed. "I’m just awful. How do you gentlemen put up with me?" She moved from her
father’s side to stand behind Buck who was warily watching out the front door as he ate his dinner. He
was almost on top of Teaspoon who continued to lounge in the doorway. She wrapped her arms around
Buck’s back, and leaned on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

 "You were right Teaspoon! I needed that," he gloated. 

"Uh-huh. Now where’s mine?" He leaned over giving her full access to his cheek. She giggled lightly,
and leaned to kiss his proffered jaw when she jerked back suddenly. Buck had his gun out before Lilah
hit the ground. He was shooting at a peach steak in the foliage all the while screaming, "Is she okay?"

 "I’m fine! I’m fine!"

 "Are you hit?" Teaspoon helped her away from the door.

 "I-I don’t think so," she stammered. 

 "But you fell when the shot went off." Will’s panicked voice rang out. Deaf to the ear piercing thunder
 of gun play, Will dropped his gun and rushed to her, and examined a tiny whole in the bodice of her
 dress. He started tugging at the fabric, trying to get at the wound. He almost laughed with relief when
 he found a small silver sphere imbedded in the whale bone stay of her corset.

 Lilah did not take part in his squawk of joy. All of her attention was focused on Buck who had just
 been joined by Teaspoon at the door. 

 "He should be almost out of ammunition," he told Teaspoon without moving his eyes from his peachy
 target. Narrowing his gaze, Teaspoon noted the color of the firing blur.

 "That ain’t no he," he stated flatly.

 "What?" Buck’s eyes were wide, but still he did not let them abandon their target.

 "That would be Miss Lindsey."

 "Jackie Lindsey?" Will barked.

 "Well, I’m not quite sure. She just told me her name was Lindsey." 

  A sudden and complete pallor overcame Will’s face. "This has all been my fault."

"No daddy," Lilah lunged toward him, but was hampered by a stabbing pain in her ribs. While the 
bullet had not impaled her, the velocity of it had bruised her ribs thoroughly. 

 Without really thinking his actions through, Will stalked toward the door. The shooting ended. 

 "Jackie!" he bellowed. "Drop your gun, woman! Do it now!" A wild wailing sounded from the bushes.

 "William. William, you can’t be here! You can’t!"

 "I am. Drop the gun now!"

"I can’t, don’t you understand that we belong together? I’m going to fix everything. Everything. So we
can finally be together. I understand why you made me go. It was your awful daughter. She’s wicked!
She’s a wicked wicked girl! She talked you out of loving me, but I’ll fix it. I’ll forgive you."

"Forgive me! ME! I’ll see you hanged!" Will did not even try to suppress his rage. Jackie, gun in hand, emerged from the bushes.

 "Daddy, no! Come back inside! Please daddy, now!" Lilah begged.

"You don’t mean that," Jackie sobbed. "You don’t you’ll see what a fine pair we make. We just have 
to get Lilah out of the way."

 "Lilah was never in the way! You were, with your conniving, and you little plan to relieve me of my
 money."

 "No. NO! You don’t mean that!" She began rocking. Sobs shook her. "You don’t mean that."

 "I do!" 

Lilah could do nothing but listen to the exchange because Buck had her pinned against the side wall of
the cabin. Teaspoon was covering Will.

 "I need to see, Buck. I need to see! Please let me up," she cried frantically.

 "You loved me once. You can love me again if I just fix it." When once her word were fired with rabid
 conviction, they sounded tired and unconvincing now.

 "I cared for you. I never loved you." 

 Jackie stared blankly at him for a moment. "It was all for you. Everything was for you."

 "Jackie, everything you did was for my money." Her face unchanging, Jackie slowly began to lift the
 gun to Will’s chest. Teaspoon couldn’t get a shot of her that was clear of Will. 

 "Move William!" he yelled.

A shot echoed off of the dense thicket of tree surrounding the cabin. Jackie dropped soundlessly to 
the ground with a livid red stain spreading across her back. Kid stood, weapon still at the ready behind her.

Still unable to see what had happened Lilah started slamming her fists into Buck’s back. "No, no, no,"
she breathed. "Let me up," she screamed. Teaspoon nodded at him. Buck grabbed her hands. 

 "Everything is okay. He’s fine, Lilah. You’re father is fine." Buck coaxed her fingers out of fists. Her
 breath was bursting out of her on frantic bursts.

 "It’s over?" she stared at him, confused.

 "It’s over," he whispered, gently cupping her face in his hands. She threw her arms around him, and
 wept until she was too exhausted to move.

 "It’s over," Will echoed as he stepped into the room to join in the embrace.

 Teaspoon stifled a smirk. Those three were just meant to be a family. As if sensing his thoughts, Kid
 looked at the older man strangely.

 "Why don’t you join’em?"

 "Hell yes!" Teaspoon bellowed while grabbing Kid by the arm. "We’re all family here!" After a five
 point hug, an exhausted family loaded up the body of a poor unfortunate soul that didn’t comprehend
 the ties that bind a family together. 
 

Epilogue

 "You sure you want to do this?" Lilah offered.

 "Yes," Buck replied emphatically.

 "I’m a wicked girl, have you heard?"

 "Yes, but I kind of enjoy a little something wicked." She gave him a wry grin.

He reached for her cheek. He just couldn’t keep his hands off of her. She was a vision in white. Pale
yellow roses wound around her auburn crown. A few escaped tendrils of fire colored hair curled
around her face. She was the most exquisite creature ever to be, and she was his bride. It seemed that
from far away words were echoing into his ears. He obeyed the disembodied order, slipping a tiny gold
band on the ring finger of Lilah’s left hand. She was his. She was his better half. She was his life. She
was very, very wicked!