A/N - A chapter you say? You want a chapter? By gum, I'll give you a chapter! This really probably should have been two separate chapters, but I realllly wanted to get through the Bisbee scene, so I kept writing and writing and writing, and 28 pages (and 13,000+) words later... yeah. So here you are. I hope you enjoy, cause I seriously doubt my husband lets me even start another one for at least a week. Maybe longer. I'm very sorry that it took me so long to update this one. I've been sick, busy as hell at work, and Thanksgiving kicked my bootay.

A special shout-out to Anonymous2004 who betaed the first half of this, and to Tempest, who once again was invaluable in helping me with some wording I struggled with later on.

Please please leave me a review and let me know what you think of the story, chapter or trivia after you finish reading. It really brightens my day and helps encourage me to update more often.

Chapter 11: Justice

The following week was blissfully uneventful and Joshua settled into a routine working with Mark every day. Alice was amazed by his constant patience in working with the boy, who invariably asked an endless stream of questions, wanting to know about some of the books Joshua'd read and memorized, the places he'd been and the things he'd seen.

He never complained about the number of questions Mark asked either, though one night during dinner after he'd just finished telling them about some tunnels beneath taverns and saloons in Portland, Oregon that had been used to 'shanghai' unsuspecting men and women (and very nearly himself, on one particular occasion), he held up one hand and said firmly, "That's enough questions for today, Mark."

It must not have been the first time he'd had to put his foot down, because Mark didn't argue or fuss. He appeared to be lost in thought as he quietly finished the rest of the meal. Alice half-way suspected her overly inquisitive son was compiling a list of new things to ask the following day.

Still, she learned a lot of things about their new ranch hand that she might not otherwise have known were it not for Mark's curious nature. For example, at one time Joshua had been a scout for the Army and spoke Spanish as well as a few different Indian dialects. He'd actually met the famous General George Armstrong Custer, who he referred to as 'that damn fool', and Doc Holliday, who he described as still deadly in a gunfight even though he was half dead of consumption. He liked playing cards but didn't like gambling because it left too much to chance. In the 70s, he'd seen a pile of buffalo skulls that was more than 25 feet high, a sight that indicated to him the famous plain animal would be hunted out of existence soon by white men, if it hadn't already happened. Where millions of the great beasts had once roamed the plains, now newspapers were saying they were impossible to find.

There was so much about the man that remained a mystery though. Where had he been born? Where did he grow up? Did he have any family anywhere? Brothers or sisters or cousins or anyone? What were his parents like, and what would they have thought of his becoming a famous thief and outlaw? Alice recalled William telling her that before Joshua—no, before Ben Wade had thrown Byron McElroy off of a cliff, the grizzled Pinkerton had insulted the outlaw by calling him the spawn of a gravedigger and a whore. She supposed McElroy could have been telling the truth, not that it mattered really. No one got to choose how their parents made their living.

To his credit, Joshua never tried to make his travels seem like a big adventure or glamorous in any way. He'd seen men, women, and even children die, sometimes deliberately killed by others, but usually by just having the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was dangerous in the Wild West, even for someone like him, no matter what the dime magazines said.

Will's health was slowly improving, though he was still very weak and confined to bed rest. The bullet hole in his chest looked terrible but the wound's ragged edges were scabbing over. Every day Alice had to set aside time to boil and wash the bandages, hanging them out to dry so they would be ready to use the following day. Will was a good patient for the most part, and whiled away the time by sleeping and reading his books and dime magazines.

Joshua made it a point to sit with him every day and their quiet conversations invariably centered around the books they both loved to read. One evening, Alice had just finished putting up the dishes when it occurred to her that Joshua had been talking for an awfully long time. It took her a few moments to realize that he wasn't talking, but reading a book out loud to Will—well, quoting really, since he didn't actually have the book in front of him.

She found herself sitting down in the rocking chair just outside the bedroom as his smooth voice relayed the tale of an orphan child with the strange name 'Oliver Twist'. Mark came in a few minutes later and sat down in front of the fire to join her to listen to the story as well.

Joshua didn't 'read' for much longer. When he emerged from the bedroom, he saw his 'audience' extended beyond Will's ears and muttered a low, "Good night," before heading off to the barn for the night. The following evening though, he waited until Alice and Mark were settled in the sitting room before he continued the story from right where he'd left off. He only recited a chapter a night, probably to save his voice from going completely hoarse, but she found that listening to him recite was a surprisingly relaxing way to wind down the day.

She was on the mend herself outwardly, and to a lesser extent, inwardly. She had terrible nightmares every night and woke Mark up by thrashing in her sleep on more than one occasion. But her bruises were healing. That was important, because despite the fact that she needed things from the General Store in Bisbee, she absolutely refused to go to town while there was any hint of bruising left on her face or especially on her neck, especially after how shocked Deputy Young's reaction had been.

Alice had no doubt that rumors were flying around Bisbee due to the circumstances regarding Hollander's death, but with any luck, they were more focused on the fact that the landowner, who had quite a reputation in town for his ruthless business practices, would no longer be around to plague average folk. And that brought to mind another reason she needed to go to Bisbee—the Evans land deed. With Hollander dead, she needed to know what would be happening with the land, not just the land she and the boys (and now Joshua) were living on, but Hollander's land as well, since he had the water rights for all land in the area, including her own.

As far as she knew, Glen Hollander had no relatives or kin that his property would pass to. She doubted the man had any debts, so there was no point in the bank selling off his assets to pay them. The thousands of cattle branded with the Double Bar-H logo were apparently spreading far and wide on their own as they roamed from one food source to another, because with Hollander and Atkins dead, the Bar-H ranch hands had immediately up and left for greener pastures, so to speak, figuring there was no point in staying and working if there was no one left alive to pay them. Likely most of the men had taken some of the longhorns with them as payment for their months' worth of labor.

Some of the cattle had even joined up with the Evans own, nearly doubling the small herd's size. When Alice had watched Joshua and Mark bring in the larger herd and seen the familiar interlocking pair of Hs that formed the Bar-H brand on some of the cows, she had marched right out to the corral to order them to take the cattle back to Hollanders land.

"We'll not be branded as cattle thieves," she had stated firmly.

Joshua merely shrugged, pointing out, "You can't steal from a dead man. We didn't take them, they joined the herd on their own, and since it was just me out there when they trotted on up, it's not like one man can keep two groups of cattle that are determined to form one larger herd apart all by himself. Besides, I worked and worked hard for Hollander those couple of weeks I was there. I figure this is as good a payment as any."

Alice could not really argue with his logic, because it was true, separating the dead landowner's cattle from their own would likely be more trouble than it was worth. They didn't have nearly enough feed for a herd of cattle this large, especially with them running low anyway. Luckily, the rain had brought fresh growth of grass and flowers, and even with cutting back on their feed, the cattle would be fine from grazing. She made a note to talk with Marshal Thompson regarding the cattle when they went into Bisbee.

Wednesday, more than a week after Will's fever broke, Alice watched Joshua pour the last bit of coffee into his cup at the breakfast table and announced, "I'll be heading into Bisbee first thing after breakfast tomorrow."

Mark nearly whooped with excitement. "It's about time! I've practically been dyin' for Mrs. Turner's cinnamon cookies, 'specially since I didn't get any last time we went to town."

Joshua wordlessly spooned some sugar into his coffee and rested an elbow on the table as he sipped from the cup. Despite the lapse, his table manners had greatly improved since the first time he'd eaten with them.

Looking at Mark regretfully, Alice shook her head. "I'm afraid you can't go with me. I need you to stay here with Will. I think it's just too risky leaving him alone just yet, even for a few hours, given how bad off he was a week ago."

Mark's face fell with disappointment. "I can't go? But... it's been practically a whole month since we last went for anything besides church, and even then it's been two weeks since we been there." Clearly to his reckoning, church didn't really count as going to town.

Alice couldn't really blame him for that line of thinking. Listening to Archibald Newsome preach was about as much fun as getting teeth pulled. "I know, and I promise to make it up to you. I'll be sure to pick up some extra cookies from Mrs. Turner. She should have some fresh made, since I'll be going earlier in the day than we usually go. If she's already run out by the time I get there, then, well, I'll just have to make some myself."

Only slightly mollified, Mark nodded sulkily. "Ok... but I sure hope she has some. She makes the best cookies in all of the Arizona Territory... not that I don't like your cookies," he hurriedly added and looked toward Joshua. "Are you going to take the herd out by yourself then, that morning?"

He considered the question for a moment and lowered his mug to the table. "No, I reckon I need to make a trip on into Bisbee my own self, and pick up a few things I've been needin'. A new saddle for one, and some new shirts. A shaving kit." A wry grin appeared on his face as he looked at Alice. "Not that I don't appreciate you lettin' me borrow Dan's old shirts and Will's saddle, but I don't want to get a reputation as a freeloader. Hopefully in a few weeks, Will'll be wanting to use his saddle himself."

Her eyebrows arched upwards at his intent to get a saddle. They weren't cheap, and a good saddle could potentially cost more than the horse it went on. It was another reminder that there was more to this man than met the eye. And that reminded her… "Did you want me to cut your hair before you go into town?" she offered before eating a bit of scrambled eggs.

"No, thank you," Joshua politely declined, an indecipherable expression flickering across his face. He lowered his head and focused on spooning some more gravy over his biscuits. "I can just get it cut in town. There's a barber, ain't there?"

Alice studied him and figured he was probably reluctant to have her cut his hair because he wasn't sure how good or bad a job she'd do. "There is, but there's no sense in you spending two bits on a haircut when I can cut it. I cut Will and Mark's hair all the time, and I keep it very trim and even all over. And while we're on the subject, Mark, I'll go ahead and cut yours after you've had your bath tonight. If your hair gets much longer you'll be mistaken for a ragdoll," she said fondly, smiling at him.

Mark snorted and ran his fingers through his unruly hair. "I don't look like no ragdoll," he said defensively, and tugged at his bangs, gauging their length. "It ain't all that long. Will's hair is longer."

"That it is, but I don't think he needs to be sitting up long enough for me to cut his hair just yet, so his trim will have to wait until he's feeling better." She turned her attention back to Joshua, saying, "Anyway, as I was saying, you really don't have to worry about me making a mess of it." A smile touched her lips and she added lightly, "I even I promise to leave the bowl in the cupboard when I get out the scissors."

He gave a slight shake of his head, "It ain't that I think you'll make a mess of it."

"Then what is it?" she asked curiously. Alice had no idea why he'd be so hesitant about getting a hair cut. Unless he was afraid of scissors or something, which seemed like a far-fetched notion at best.

Joshua didn't answer for a long moment and pushed food around on his plate. When he looked up to find both Alice and Mark staring at him, he relented, "All right. It's probably better that it be done before I go into town anyway. No sense in taking any chances with my 'disguise', though it ain't much of a disguise, I know."

Mark shook his head and eyed Joshua critically. "It's ok, I suppose. I dunno, shaving your beard all the way off and cuttin' your hair short does make you look pretty different. You don't look as old now. And I think you were fatter a couple of years ago too," he pointed out tactlessly.

Joshua laughed outright with genuine amusement. "Is that right?"

"Mark!" Alice chided immediately, though she had to bite the inside of her cheek to suppress a smile. "You know better than to say things like that."

"I'm sorry," Mark muttered after glancing at his mother. "I shouldn'ta said that, it wasn't nice."

Snorting, Joshua told him, "You got nothing to be sorry for. It's true, I was fatter back then. You should never apologize for telling the truth, even if it's a truth people don't want to hear."

That made Alice frown, mostly because Joshua was right, especially in light of the fact that she'd found the boy's words just as amusing as he had. "It's not that I want him to apologize for telling the truth. It's more that I don't want him saying everything that pops into his head."

Mark thought about that for a moment before saying, "I guess it's kinda like that one part of the Bible you like so much, where it says, there's 'a time to keep silent, and a time to speak.'"

"I reckon so," Joshua said.

They finished eating breakfast and Alice cleaned up the table while Mark and Joshua went to outside to work. She had preparations of her own to do before heading to town the following day, and spent the early part of the day mending and washing one of her two remaining dresses. Once again, she almost regretted burning the dress she had been wearing when Hollander attacked, but then again, the thought of wearing it again, even if she hadn't destroyed it, made her sick to her stomach. Hopefully the Turner Trading post would have some nice bolts of fabric so that she could make another dress. Possibly two, depending on how expensive the cloth was.

That afternoon after she and Will ate lunch, she drew some water from the well and heated it to give him a sponge bath. Initially, he insisted on trying to wash himself but it only took a minute or two before he fell back against the mattress gasping, his face pale with exertion. By the time she finished bathing him, helping him into a clean pair of underpants (much to his embarrassment) and changing out the damp sheets, he was utterly exhausted. She emptied out the small basin she'd washed him from and dragged the larger wash bin they used for bathing and set it in front of the fireplace. She'd start filling it up after supper.

When Joshua and Mark returned for dinner, William was still sound asleep. A sulky Mark was still not happy that he'd have to stay behind on Thursday with Will instead of going into Bisbee, and as a result was unusually reticent.

Joshua seemed lost in thought, and the small lines on his forehead indicated to Alice that he was worried about something.

"Do you think anyone will know?" she asked quietly.

Startled, he blinked up at her. "What?"

"I said, do you think anyone will know?" When he didn't answer right away, Alice clarified, "Who you are, I mean?"

He pondered her question and shrugged, "I don't know. I've been to bigger towns than Bisbee and no one's given me a second look."

Mark regarded him apprehensively. "What will you do if someone does recognize you?"

The sudden image of a bloody gun battle taking place in the street, right in front of Turner's Trading Post popped into her mind, the end result Ben Wade aka Joshua Mason, propped up in the front window of the undertaker's business, dead and still and dressed in neat black suit. It was surprisingly upsetting.

"Smile pretty and go along quietly, without a fuss," Joshua replied with a wry grin. "It's worked out for Ben Wade the other three times he got caught, including the last time he was here in Bisbee."

His wording was strange, and she looked at him curiously for a moment. "I never noticed that you referred to Ben Wade in the third person."

"I did?" he said, frowning.

Alice nodded, not quite knowing whether she found his unconscious choice of words worrisome or amusing. She decided to go with the latter, and smiled slightly. "Yes, you did. Almost like you were talking about someone else, in fact."

"He is, kinda." Mark regarded Joshua seriously, "Cause he's Joshua Mason, not Ben Wade. Right?"

His expression was troubled as he stared at the boy, but Mark had already returned to eating, as though the discussion was over.

"Well," she said after a few moments of silence, a faint blush tingeing her cheeks. "I'll be drawing some water for a bath after supper, so if the front door is closed, well I'd appreciate you waiting till the door's open before coming in. After I'm done, you can have your turn, Mark." She cleared her throat and offered, "Joshua, if you'd like to take a bath as well, you're welcome to do so."

He shook his head, a hint of amusement returning to his face. "Not that I don't appreciate the offer, but I'm fine just takin' a dip in a creek or a river. For now anyway. I might be singin' a different tune come winter."

It wasn't until he said the words that Alice realized he had every intention of staying at the Evans ranch until winter at the very least. With any luck, Will would be completely recovered by the end of summer, but having the added security of another pair of helping hands around to lighten the work load definitely had its advantages. Still, that extra twenty dollars spent on his wages would make significant inroads into the dwindling amount of money they had left from Grayson Butterfield. If it came down to it though, she was reasonably certain she could sell off a couple of the cows that Castor and Pollux had bred to other ranches in the area, and still come out ahead at next year's spring calving.

And speaking of those wages… Alice eyed Joshua from under lowered eyelashes. She had a sneaking suspicion the man was working for far less than normal ranch hands worked for, but was honest enough to admit to herself that she had no idea what exactly fair pay would be for the type of labor he was doing. It wasn't like she and Dan had ever really discussed the costs of hiring on another hand, largely because they'd never done well enough at ranching while he was alive to have the extra money that made it an option. She made a mental note to ask someone in town, subtly of course, so she didn't overtly display her own ignorance on the subject.

After cleaning up from supper, she took a quick bath, mindful of the fact that any time spent dallying would mean the water's temperature would be that much colder when Mark took his turn. She gave him the token motherly reminder to 'wash behind his ears' and went outside to sit on the porch, brushing the tangles out of her thick blonde hair. Joshua had apparently taken her request for privacy to heart, he was nowhere to be seen. That or he really is afraid of scissors, she thought to herself with amusement as she loosely tied her hair at the nape of her neck.

Mark finished his bath and dressed. Since the sun was already on the verge of setting, she turned up the lamps and placed them strategically around the sitting room so she would be able to see well enough to cut his hair. The boy carried one of the kitchen chairs and sat in it, right in front of the door. Alice wrapped a towel loosely around his shoulders and, armed with a comb and scissors, got to work.

Alice appeared to be almost finished with cutting Mark's hair by the time Joshua returned from taking his own bath down in the creek. He hadn't bothered with a towel and so his clothes were damp, clinging to his cool skin from where he'd just tossed them back on once he'd gotten out of the water.

Mark lifted his head slightly and took note of Joshua's appearance and wet hair. "I don't see how you can take a bath in that cold creek water," he stated, shuddering for added effect.

"You get used to it after a few minutes," Joshua responded with an easy shrug. That was mostly true, but even so, he hadn't lingered in the shallow pool of water any longer than he had to, scrubbing quickly with the bar of lye soap.

"Hold still," Alice ordered quietly as she brushed hair off of Mark's shoulder. The floor beneath the chair was littered with dark hair trimmings.

Joshua leaned against the doorjamb, watching them. He still was feeling somewhat ambivalent about letting Alice cut his hair though he recognized that it needed doing, and preferably before he went to town.

Those first couple of days after she'd unwittingly lit a fire in his loins merely by running her fingers through his hair, he had blamed his body's response the fact that it'd been months since he'd last bedded a woman. That was an itch easy enough to scratch, given the number of brothels and saloons that lined Bisbee's dusty streets. However, the notion of having what he strongly suspected would be a brief and scarcely satisfying ramble with one of the town whores came nowhere near to filling him the same sense of restless anticipation he was currently experiencing. All for something as simple as a haircut.

He reined in his thoughts and drove them in a safer direction. "Is William still asleep?"

"He woke up earlier while you two were out in the barn after supper, ate a potato and a bit of meat, but he was still pretty exhausted from the bath earlier," Alice said. She used her fingertips to straighten Mark's hair out before snipping off bits along the length of her fingers.

Mark peered at Joshua, asking, "Is she doin' a good job?" His small nose twitched as a small swath of hair landed on the very end of it, and he brushed it away.

Joshua grinned, "Oh yeah, she's doing a fine job. She oughta be chargin' you two bits for sure, for a haircut that good." She really had given the boy a good trim. His hair was cut very evenly all over, except around the ears and the nape of his neck, where the hair length was slightly shorter.

"I hope it's putting your mind at ease, at the very least. As you can see, there's not a bald spot to be found," Alice commented as she pulled the comb through Mark's hair one last time and moved around to stand in front of him. She lifted his chin up to look at him directly, searching for stray hairs that she might have missed. Finding none, she gave a satisfied nod and straightened up with a smile, pulling the towel off of his shoulders. "All done."

"Finally!" Hopping to his feet, Mark brushed past Joshua to go outside. He bent over double and began running his hands through his hair to dislodge any lose trimmings that remained.

"Next!" Alice said lightly, gesturing at the chair and giving Joshua a smile.

It's just a haircut, he firmly reminded himself as he stared at the chair for a moment. Nevermind that every other haircut he'd had in his life had either been self-administered, or given by a man who typically also doubled as the town's dentist. Exhaling slowly, he sat down gingerly in the chair and watched as she stepped out on the porch long enough to shake out the towel.

Mark had finished outside and stood in the doorway looking morosely at Joshua as Alice tucked the towel around his shoulders. "I guess if Will's asleep, that means you're not going to read more of the story of Oliver Twist?"

"Not tonight, no." He was almost surprised by how normal his voice sounded. Maybe this won't be so bad after all. No sooner had that thought entered his mind than Alice moved around to stand in front of him, facing him with the comb in one hand and the scissors in the other. She smelled incredible, like vanilla, and her breasts just happened to be at the exact level of his eyes. Or not.

"I'm going to bed then," Mark groused, his temporary good humor ruined once again. He slipped around Alice and Joshua and went into his bedroom, not quite slamming the door, but shutting it with enough force that his displeasure was obvious.

Alice sighed patiently and shook her head, muttering, "Boys," as she began combing out Joshua's hair.

The sigh caused her chest to rise and fall and his johnson immediately stirred in his trousers, intent on doing some rising of its own. He shut his eyes to block out the distracting view and tried to will his body back under control by imagining the last man to cut his hair, a thin scholarly man with a goatee, was there doing it now. That wasn't working so good because his senses were telling him otherwise. The fingers lightly drifting through his hair definitely did not feel masculine and the scent of her vanilla soap, God—he wondered idly if she tasted as good as she smelled.

She was behind him now and he shifted uneasily in the chair to adjust his pants, pressing his hands firmly against his thighs.

"You'll need to hold still," Alice told him as she stretched out a lock of hair between her fingers, preparing to cut it.

This time when he spoke, his voice was strained and rough. "I'm trying," he said honestly.

She paused and released his hair. A moment later, her hands settled lightly on his tense shoulders and gave them a gentle and reassuring squeeze. "Relax. There's nothing to worry about, all right?"

Her quiet comforting words indicated to him that she had not picked up on the real reason for his tension, because if she had, she almost certainly would have been worried, and possibly even frightened. He didn't trust himself to respond in words just yet so nodded his head in a quick, jerky motion and drew in a deep breath, trying to relax his tense muscles.

Alice ran the comb through his damp hair again before using her fingers to separate a swath on the top of his head, quietly snipping the excess length off with the scissors. "Your hair is surprisingly soft to the touch. I don't know what I was expecting, I guess I figured it'd feel coarser, for some reason," she confessed, and he could sense that she was almost embarrassed to have even mentioned it. She clipped his hair in silence for a few moments and added in a lighter tone, "I knew someone back in Boston who was afraid of mirrors."

A choked laugh escaped him before he could stop it as he realized she must think he was literally afraid of getting his hair cut. "That right?" he managed to say in an even tone.

"Mm-hmm. I really have no idea why or how that came about. Marie didn't even like to talk about it," she continued conversationally. "Whenever we went to new places, she'd have me go into the room first to make sure that there weren't any mirrors."

Her fingers brushing along his scalp and through his hair still felt absolutely incredible and he found it utterly ridiculous that that alone was enough to make a man his age feel like a randy teen on his first visit to a whorehouse. The inane topic was just distracting enough that he was able to keep his physical reaction to her close proximity in check, for the most part anyways. "Did she happen to be afraid of garlic and holy water as well?" he inquired casually.

A husky laugh escaped her. "No, actually, she wasn't. Not afraid of sunlight either, in case you were going to ask."

Joshua made a non committal sound and resisted the urge to twitch as feathers of hair brushed along his cheek as they fell. She worked quickly and efficiently, and he kept his eyes closed through the whole process, though he reveled in every touch. It wasn't long before she was lightly brushing hair off his face with her fingertips.

"All finished," she said from in front of him. He opened his eyes just as her hand lifted his chin up to look at him directly, the same way she had done with Mark, critically looking at her work. "Wait a minute," she ordered, quickly moving to his side and pulling a swath of hair at his temple taut with her fingertips once more before clipping it off with the scissors. "Almost missed a spot," she commented unnecessarily and ran the comb through his hair one last time before handing him her mirror so he could see the results.

He barely glanced at his reflection before handing it back to her with a carefully spoken, "Thank you."

Alice accepted the mirror and set it aside. "That wasn't so painful, was it?" she asked, giving him a warm smile as she cleaned and wrapped the scissors up in a cloth before stowing them in her sewing box.

"You have no idea," he said frankly, unclenching his fists' grip on his thighs before rising to his feet. He was still horny as hell but through sheer force of will had somehow managed to keep his prick from coming to complete attention.

"I'm very sorry that it took me so long to do," she looked up at him apologetically. "I honestly had no idea that you were so, well, nervous about getting your hair cut. I should have picked up on it sooner."

Joshua sighed patiently. "Alice, I ain't afraid of having my hair cut. Or of scissors either."

She blinked at that revelation. "Why have you been so tense then? Every time I've done so much as mention cutting your hair you go as taut as a bowstring."

"You really don't know, do you?" he said with amused disbelief. How could she not know that her very touch seemed to practically set him on fire for her?

Wide-eyed, Alice merely shook her head in confusion.

Joshua looked away from her, outside to where it was safe and she wasn't in arm's reach, smelling so good and looking even more beautiful for being all fresh-faced from her bath earlier. If he had a lick of sense, he'd already be out the door and heading toward the barn where there was no risk of him pulling her into his arms and showing her why he'd been nervous about having her touch him, reasons that had nothing to do with being afraid of scissors or haircuts.

He was on the verge of taking that step away from her when she reached out and touched his arm, drawing his gaze back to hers. "Joshua? Know what?" she asked worriedly, looking up at him with those green eyes. The greenest eyes he'd ever seen. What else could he do?

He kissed her.

He kissed her.

Alice and Dan had kissed innumerable times over the sixteen years they were together. Chaste kisses early on in their courtship had evolved into romantic and loving kisses as they were engaged and then married.

Never before had she been kissed like this, with such raw and open desire that it nearly took her breath away. She froze not with fear, but with surprise as his mouth moved over hers. It was a dangerous kiss, not because it was forceful or overpowering or even demanding, but it promised, promised fulfilled desires and needs and pleasure—yes, most definitely it promised the purist form of physical and carnal pleasure. As he let his lips and tongue play over her own, and as his hands drew her body against his lean and taut frame, she became clearly and intimately aware of exactly how much he wanted her and what he wanted to do to her, as if the kiss alone hadn't been a clear enough statement.

He raised his head and his eyes were dark with hunger for her, but tinged with something else—worry, she dimly realized, worry that she'd be afraid of him because he'd kissed her. "Now you understand why I was dancin' on a razor's edge about you cutting my hair?" he asked roughly when he saw her stillness was due to the unexpectedness of the kiss and not fear. "'Cause when you run your fingers through my hair, it feels so damn good it makes me want to do this." He kissed her again, briefly this time, but it still expressed the same wanton desire for her as the previous one had.

"Oh," Alice said in a small breathless voice when she could speak again, and the simple word seemed woefully ignorant. "I had no idea, well, that something as simple as a haircut could cause, ah, such a response." That 'response' was pressing rather insistently against her stomach at the moment.

"Neither did I," Joshua admitted ruefully, studying her. He seemed to be debating something and moved a hand from where it had settled on her hip up to her hair. Tugging the ribbon until it came undone, he freed her thick blonde hair and then ran his fingers through it, starting at her temple and trailing behind her right ear on down to the nape of her neck.

Her eyes drifted shut at how surprisingly wonderful that felt, soothing and sensual all at once. He drew his fingers through her hair a second time and she couldn't resist tilting her head slightly into his hand to prolong the sensation. When she opened her eyes again, Joshua was watching her intently, and she knew he was going to kiss her again.

She could have turned her face aside or lowered her chin—it wasn't like he was going to catch her completely off guard the way he had done a few minutes ago—but she remained perfectly still as his mouth moved inexorably closer to hers. This time when he kissed her, he used his lips to tease and cajole, playfully inviting and nibbling along her lower lip, kindling a spark deep inside her that she thought had died out long ago, a flicker of heat and yearning that spread like wildfire through her body, warming her skin and causing her heart to race. It was completely irresistible and she couldn't help but respond to this kiss, tentatively at first but then with increasing enthusiasm.

When her hands drifted up to his shoulders and she lightly ran her fingers through his short cropped hair, he pressed the full length of his body tightly against hers before withdrawing just enough to end the kiss. She stared up at him, shocked by how strong her own response had been and noting with bemusement that he seemed just as breathless as she was.

"I really need to leave," he said hoarsely, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against hers as he tried to calm down.

Alice nodded mutely, not trusting herself to speak just yet. She moved her hands from his shoulders to his muscular chest and then let them fall to her sides where they clenched in the coarse fabric of her dress.

He leaned forward again, not to kiss her this time, but to turn his face into her hair, inhaling deeply. Then he released his grip on her incrementally and with obvious reluctance, sliding his hands from the small of her back to both hips, then one hip, taking one of her hands in his to give it a final squeeze as he made himself back away. "Good night," he finally said, his eyes lingering on hers until he finally turned and walked out the door toward the barn.

"Good night," she whispered, watching until he disappeared into the barn.

That night, she slept soundly and without nightmares for the first time in weeks. She woke up before dawn and as usual, checked on Will first thing after climbing out of bed. At some point he had roused himself enough to use the bedpan, but for now he was sleeping soundly. Mark was always slower to rise than she was, so Alice had a bit of time to herself. She washed her face, put on the dress she had washed the previous day, brushed her hair out until it seemed spun clear through with pale gold, and almost convinced herself that she was making an extra effort to look her best because she always did so before going into Bisbee, not because of a certain ranch hand.

Mark woke up just as she started making buttermilk biscuits. After dressing, he picked up the pail and went out to the barn to milk Pansy. When he returned about fifteen minutes later with the bucket of fresh milk, he set it down on the table and asked, "Where'd Joshua go?"

Alice finished putting the biscuits in the oven and turned toward her son, wondering if she'd misheard him. "What?"

"I said, 'Where'd Joshua go?'" Mark repeated, explaining, "He ain't in the barn, and Dawson's gone."

She stared at him, nonplussed. "Maybe he's just out checking the fences or something," she suggested.

Mark shook his head, "He always waits to do that until right before we ride out with the herd in the morning. That's how we been doin' it since you hired him on. I milk Pansy, and then he comes down the ladder and checks the horses and Castor and Pollux in the barn, and then we walk back to the house together to eat breakfast… and then we do the feeding and the watering and such…" he ticked through the routine he'd shared with Joshua since Will had been injured on his fingers. "Then we saddle up the horses and we check the fences together, then we take the cows out on the range. We been doin' it exactly like that for like a month now, I don't see as he would be changing it all of a sudden. Besides, even if he was checking the fence, I'd still be able to see him from the barn. The corral ain't all that big."

Worriedly chewing the ragged edge of her thumbnail, Alice asked, "And he didn't mention anything to you? About having to go anywhere? Maybe to Hollander's ranch?"

"Why would he have waited until now?" Mark eyed her and asked suspiciously, "Did you two have another 'discussion'?"

Alice flushed with embarrassment and evaded her son's gaze. "A discussion?" she asked faintly. Talking had been the furthest thing from her mind when she'd been with Joshua the previous night.

"Yeah, a 'discussion'. You know, like a couple of weeks ago when you two had an argument, Joshua said you had a 'discussion'. Did you two argue again?"

Clearing her throat, she gave a slight shake of her head, though her cheeks were still reddened. "No, we didn't argue." In fact, what they had been doing was pretty much the exact opposite. "And he didn't say anything about…" Her words faded as she recalled what his exact words had been before he'd left. I really need to leave. At the time, she'd thought he had been talking about leaving before he went further with the kiss than she was willing to go.

"Ma? He didn't say anything about what?" Mark waited expectantly for her to finish the sentence.

She paused and finished her sentence slowly, "About leaving. I was saying, he didn't say anything about leaving…" Only, maybe he had, and she'd just been too distracted by him—by his kisses—to have paid attention. Joshua'd made it sound like he intended staying through winter last night during dinner, but maybe he'd changed his mind after what happened later. Maybe he never intended on staying at all. But surely, after everything they had endured together in the past two weeks, he'd have at least told them if he was leaving.

Right, because a man who is, by his own admission, a thief, murderer, and oh let's not forget 'rotten as hell', would certainly have the common decency to let you know before he rode off into the sunset, the bitter thought popped into her mind.

Ignoring that acerbic little voice, Alice refused to believe that Joshua would just vanish without so much as a by your leave, especially after what had happened last night. She just couldn't see him as being that cowardly. "Mark, why don't you go check the loft to see if he's left some kind of note or something, and I'll finish making breakfast."

Mark nodded and hurried back to the barn, and Alice turned her attention to cooking breakfast again. She had opened the oven to check on the biscuits when he returned, worried, breathless, holding a few scraps of paper in his hand.

"He left a note?" she asked hopefully, though it looked to be an awfully long note.

He seemed very upset as he shook his head, "Not a note, but I found these…" Mark handed her some pages that had apparently been torn from some of Will's dime magazines.

The pieces of papers had no words written on them other than the printed words from the magazines themselves. Instead, nearly every available inch of space was filled with sketches, drawings of Mark proudly riding Castor, resting his chin on a fence railing, leaning against a shovel, of Will sleeping, laughing, and even one of his face contorted in pain with his hand over his bullet wound. There were also a few of Alice herself, standing at the stove cooking, sitting in the rocking chair mending… The largest drawing was of her, apparently when she'd been sitting at the kitchen table. She had a slight smile on her face and was resting her chin on her folded hand, as though listening to someone speak.

They were beautiful and so personal, Alice almost felt like she'd been caught reading someone's diary after she finished looking through them. Her throat was tight as she gave them back to Mark, "Put these back exactly where you found them, so he can find them when he comes back."

"I don't think he's gonna come back," Mark was on the verge of tears. "He took his gun."

That made no sense at all to her and Alice gave her son an odd look, "Of course he took his gun… he always takes his gun with him when he leaves the ranch."

"Not that gun," he said with a grimace. "I mean the Hand of God… that black gun he, I mean that Ben Wade used, the one with the curse on it. Joshua took it with him." Mark looked at her, heartbroken, "Do you reckon he's gonna go back to being Ben Wade now? Why else would he have left and taken the Hand of God with him, unless he didn't mean to come back?"

Alice enfolded Mark in her arms and could just barely rest her cheek on the top of his head—when had he gotten so tall? He hugged her back tightly, sniffling, as she reassured him, "He'll be back," and could only pray she was telling him the truth. Drawing back a little, she smiled at him tenderly, "You better go put those papers back where you found them before he figures out you've been looking through his stuff."

Mark wiped his nose and his voice was subdued as he replied, "'Kay, but I think he's gonna know anyway…I messed his sleeping area pretty bad lookin' through it." That last bit was added with a slightly mischievous grin that indicated a return to his usual optimism.

"Well, do your best," she said and watched as he ran out the door and back to the barn with the sketches clutched in his hand.

Joshua still wasn't back by the time they finished cleaning up after breakfast. Will woke briefly and ate a biscuit before falling back asleep, still feeling the effects of his bath the previous day. With any luck, he'd sleep the entire time she was gone. He'd probably be fine with Mark to care for him, but even so, she didn't want to be away from him any longer than she had to.

Alice was standing on the porch watching Mark hitch Nathan up to the wagon when Joshua finally returned, riding in from the southwest. Tucking her reticule under her arm, she shifted her bonnet from one hand to the other and walked over to stand beside her son as, together, they watched his approach.

"Look at Dawson," Mark said with quiet concern, and even across the distance between them, it was immediately obvious that wherever Joshua had been during the night, it had not been a short or easy ride. The black horse's body was lathered with sweat and when it came to a stop in front of the house, the animal lowered its head, sides heaving with exhaustion.

Joshua dismounted, patting his mount almost apologetically for what he'd been put through the last few hours, and shook some of the dirt and dried mud off of his duster. "I thought I'd be back before breakfast," he said by way of explanation, and began to remove Dawson's saddle.

Mark stepped forward to hold the reins and rubbed the horse's poll. "Where'd you go? It looks like you rode him all the way to Mexico and back," he commented, peering at the animal.

"Close," he replied, but volunteered no further information. Heaving the saddle and bags up into his arms, he ordered Mark, "Walk him out before letting him drink, so he doesn't colic. He'll need to rest all day after that ride." The boy nodded and began to lead Dawson around in a slow and relaxing walk. When he was a short distance away, Joshua looked at Alice directly for the first time, studying her carefully schooled expression before he spoke, "Let me take these to the barn, and I'll go with you into Bisbee, if you'll let me." Without waiting for an answer, he headed off toward the barn with the tack.

His guarded choice of words indicated to Alice that he was uncertain as to how well received his offer to accompany her would be.

Alice thoughtfully considered how she felt about what had happened last night as she tied on her bonnet. She definitely wasn't angry at him for kissing her, though she did wonder if she should have been. Nor was she frightened, well, not really, anyway. Not afraid of him, though perhaps she was alarmed by the intensity of her own response.

The drought of '84 and the hard years preceding it had dried up more than the land, the extraordinarily difficult times had caused the ardor that had once existed in her marriage to Dan to wither away to the extent that the few moments of intimacy they shared had seemed contrived and forced, like going through a routine, not because it actually meant something but because that's what married people did. Back then, Alice had wondered if she had reached the age at which she was beyond the point of enjoying the physical aspects of her relationship with her husband.

So much for that notion, was Alice's droll thought as she recalled how eagerly she had returned Joshua's kiss. Restless and in need of something to do to occupy herself, she double checked the buckles and straps hitching Nathan to the wagon.

Joshua appeared a few moments later, and did the same on the opposite side. Finally he looked at her from across the chestnut horse's back and asked solemnly, "Are you ready to go?"

"Yes," she said simply and walked around to the side of the wagon, Joshua following a few steps behind. He politely offered her a helping hand and after a moment's hesitation, she took it, using it for support as she pulled herself up into the vehicle and settled onto the seat. He held her hand no longer than absolutely necessarily and had walked around to the other side to climb in when she quietly said without looking at him, "Since you were in such a hurry to get back, I doubt you had time to eat. There're some biscuits left from breakfast in the breadbox, and some sausage wrapped in a towel next to it."

She could sense she had surprised him by saying that, but didn't know why. He gave her a quick nod and went into the house, returning with a biscuit in one hand and stuffing a piece of sausage into his mouth with the other. A few minutes later, they were on their way to Bisbee, and Alice turned to give Mark a smile and wave, before facing forward again.

The wagon rattled along and Joshua quickly finished off his biscuit. Alice reached under the seat and pulled out one of the canteens there, twisting off the top to take a quick sip of the tepid water before offering it to him. He drank more deeply and returned it.

She put the lid back on and had just put the canteen back under the seat when he gave her a sidelong glance and said conversationally, "That's a pretty bonnet."

"Thank you," she replied evenly and made a minute adjustment to the flowered hat, tucking a wisp of hair back under it.

"I gotta say though, I wish you'd wear your hair down more often."

Alice immediately thought of how good it had felt when he'd been running his fingers through her hair the previous night and shivered, carefully saying, "I don't think that's such a good idea."

Joshua thought that over and nodded. "You're probably right." He clucked his tongue at Nathan, urging the sorrel gelding to pick up his pace and said, "You thought I left."

"You said you needed to leave," Alice said, staring straight forward at the dusty road ahead. When he frowned at her, she clarified, "Last night. Right after you…" Pausing and not quite willing to put what they had been doing into words just yet, she cleared her throat and tried to ignore the flush rising in her cheeks as she continued, "Before you left. You said, 'I really need to leave'."

Exasperated, Joshua said, "I meant I really needed to leave before we ended up doing something we might have regretted later." He thoughtfully considered his words and corrected himself, "Well, something you might have regretted later, cause I sure as hell wouldn't have regretted a damn thing."

She made a non committal sound and turned her face away from him to hide her blush. Would she have regretted it? Definitely not at the time, but perhaps later… she really wasn't sure.

"I said during supper that I'd be staying until winter at the very least," he reminded her.

"You did, I remember you saying that," Alice nodded agreeably. "But you were gone this morning and you'd said that you needed to leave last night, and Mark said you'd taken your 'Hand of God'."

He immediately shook his head, bleakly stating, "Not my Hand of God. I mean, not Joshua Mason's. It's Ben Wade's gun."

She turned to look at him, noting the grim set of his face. "You really believe that gun is cursed?" It was hard for her to believe that a man of his intelligence would believe in such drivel as a cursed gun.

"What if it is?" he demanded. "What if the only person that can touch that thing is Ben Wade? Mark's said, 'If you're Joshua Mason, then you ain't Ben Wade no more', and that's true, I ain't gone by that name in more than a year now. I been walkin' a straight and narrow path—well, for the most part anyway—as Joshua Mason. And if I am Joshua Mason, don't that make me just as likely to get cursed as anyone else? I figured there weren't no sense in taking any chances with it, especially if I'm staying on your ranch." He hesitated and said more quietly, "Your family's been through enough these past couple of years. Damned if you haven't been through hell just in these past two weeks alone. If the Hand of God is cursed, then my taking it away took away the chances of you, of all of us being affected by the curse. And if it's not cursed, well then it being gone means there's one less link to my past."

"I see." Alice pursed her lips at the illogical turn this conversation had taken. "What did you do with it? Throw it in a river?"

"I put it in a hidey-hole at Miller's Peak."

"'A hidey-hole at Miller's peak'," she echoed incredulously. Well that explained why his horse had been so exhausted. That was nearly twenty-five miles away, and a good bit of that journey would be across rough terrain. "You went all the way down to Miller's Peak, into the heart of Apache territory, just to hide a gun?"

"No," Joshua corrected, "I went all the way down to Miller's Peak and into Apache land because I needed some money, and that's where I have some stashed. I took the gun with me, since I was going anyway, and left it there."

"You mean, that's where Ben Wade has money stashed," she pointed out, arching an eyebrow at him. "Because Joshua Mason is just a simple ranch hand, and would never have so much money that he'd need to 'stash it' in Apache country." Alice had to fight back a smile at her words. Joshua Mason was anything but 'simple'.

Amused, he revised his story, "No, you're right, he wouldn't. However, since Ben Wade is dead, and has been dead for nigh on a year now, and since Joshua Mason just happens to be the only person to know where the late Ben Wade's stash is hidden, he figured ol' Ben wouldn't mind if he took out enough money to buy some necessities, like a saddle and clothes and the like."

The wagon rattled its way on down the road toward Bisbee.

Alice finally said and stared down at her hands, carefully folded together in her lap. "I would have given you money for a saddle and a couple of shirts, if you'd have asked." And she would have, too, even though it would have used up most of the money they had saved.

Joshua silently considered her words, flipping the reins lightly along Nathan's back. "Would you let me work at your ranch for free?" he abruptly asked, giving her a sidelong glance.

"No," she immediately replied without thinking.

Unsurprised by her response, a low laugh escaped him. "So, it's all right if I'm the one asking you for help with money, even though you know full well I never would. But if I try to help you out by working without pay, so you can keep your money and use it on things you actually need, well, that dog just won't hunt."

She refused to rise to his bait and crossed her arms while he looked on in amusement. There was a difference between the two, though she couldn't really explain what that difference was. Other than her own stubbornness, of course.

After a few moments, Joshua asked a question that had apparently been bothering him since his return, "Do you really think I have just up and left last night without letting you know, or saying goodbye? Especially after what happened between us?"

Alice blushed furiously and her answer was longer in coming. "No," she said slowly. "I admit I was concerned when Mark said you were gone, but when he found your drawings…" He straightened with surprise and she slanted a guilty look at him, explaining, "He was looking to see if you'd left a note in with your things and found them. Anyway, I just couldn't imagine you leaving all of those beautiful sketches behind."

He didn't say anything and concentrated on driving the wagon.

Against her better judgement, she added, "And… I just can't see you as the cowardly type." Joshua regarded her inquisitively and she shrugged lightly, "I mean that in the sense of, I didn't think that you were so much of a coward that sharing a few small kisses would be enough to scare you off."

"'A few small kisses'," he echoed and seemed deeply offended by her blasé dismissal. He muttered something under his breath that the rackety noise of the wagon made indistinct.

Alice had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling, but counted herself lucky that Bisbee was just now coming into range.

The rest of the short distance to town passed in companionable silence, but as he guided the wagon down Main Street, she couldn't help but notice that some of Bisbee's residents stopped and stared at her when they passed. She stiffened, remembering Deputy Young's violent reaction at the sight of her neck and what Hollander had done to it.

Maybe they can still see the bruises, she thought with dismay and unconsciously started to lift her hand to cover her neck when Joshua calmly said out of the side of his mouth for her ears only, "The bruises are gone, Alice, keep your hand in your lap."

She turned the movement of her upraised hand into another bonnet adjustment and carefully lowered it back to her lap. It felt like her face was on fire with embarrassement. "Why are they all staring at me, then?" she asked anxiously, though it seemed like Joshua was being regarded with equal interest.

"Because one of the wealthiest men in a hundred mile radius is dead," he told her quietly, drawing up on the reins enough that Nathan slowed to an easy walk. "Your son told the Marshal himself that he's the one who pulled the trigger because Glen Hollander used his fists on you, and nearly died himself as a result. One of Hollander's own ranch hands doctored Will and removed the bullet, seemed to have some kind of knowledge of how the fire at the Bar-H ranch started, and was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs when the Marshal and his deputy came a-callin'. Why do you think they're staring at us? The rumor mill's been feedin' itself for two weeks. They're probably about to die of curiosity."

Alice took a deep breath at his words and nodded. She should have expected something like this to happen—Joshua clearly had. This was why he nearly rode Dawson into the ground, trying to get back before I left for Bisbee, she abruptly realized. He hadn't wanted her to face this alone, even though he knew he risked drawing more attention to himself in the process. A surge of some indescribably complex emotion welled up in her chest as she looked at him. "Thank you. For coming with me, I mean," she murmured, lowering her eyes.

Joshua slanted her wry grin as he drew the wagon to a stop outside of Turner's Trading Post. "I had a powerful need for new shirts," he reminded her casually and set the reins down before hopping over the edge of the vehicle to the ground. Then he walked around to the opposite side to help her down.

She took his offered hand without hesitation this time and looked apprehensively into his eyes as she climbed out of the wagon. "You're not going to leave me, are you?" she asked under her breath.

Something softened in Joshua's blue-green eyes and he promised, "I ain't goin' anywhere."

Joshua watched Alice inhale deeply again and arrange her expression to polite calm before stepping away from the wagon and walking up onto the boardwalk that led into the trading post. He lingered behind long enough to give their gelding a cursory examination before following her inside, giving an older woman who passed an amiable smile and tip of the hat.

It was quiet in the store and Turner, the old man who owned the store, was standing at the counter beside a frumpy woman with a round face that was probably his wife. As soon as the woman saw Alice, an expression of genuine relief appeared on her face and she rounded the counter.

"Alice," Mrs. Turner said affectionately, and immediately enveloped her in a warm hug. "I'm so glad you're feeling better. And how's your William doing? Hopefully the fact that he's on his feet means he's well on his way to recovery." Apparently Marshal Thompson and Deputy Young had provided a full account of their visit to the Evans ranch to the townsfolk of Bisbee.

"Ethel, it's good to see you again, and you too, Jacob." Alice smiled fondly at the woman and her husband. "William's doing much better, thank you very much. He's having to spend more time in bed resting than he'd probably like, but he did tell me that he is enjoying that book you gave him, and to thank you for the loan."

"Pish-posh," Ethel waved a hand dismissively, giving Alice another one armed hug. "I'm just glad he's doing all right, and I hear your new cow hand is the one to thank for that?" The woman peered at Joshua curiously and he walked over, taking off his hat as he greeted the woman.

"He is indeed." Mr. Turner came around the counter to stand beside his wife as Alice gracefully introduced Joshua to them, "Joshua Mason, meet Jacob and Ethel Turner. Joshua was a friend of Dan's."

"Is that right?" Jacob said, adjusting his spectacles and staring up at Joshua with no small amount of suspicion.

Joshua shook the other man's hand, murmuring, "Pleasure to meet both of you."

Ethel beamed up at him, "God bless you for helping take care of William. He's a good boy, always so polite, and he takes such good care of the books I lend him." She looked beyond Alice and asked, "Where's Mark today?"

Alice informed her with a wry smile, "He's staying at home and taking care of William today, and quite sulky about it since it means he isn't here to buy some of your cookies."

"Well it's his lucky day," Ethel declared, bustling back over to the counter and picking up one of the cookie jars on the counter. "I just got these out of the oven about fifteen minutes ago. I'll wrap a few of them up for you to take with you. And it's been weeks since you were in here last, I'm sure you've got some other supplies you'll be needing to buy as well."

"Indeed I do," Alice replied and foraged in her reticule for the list of supplies she needed to buy and offered it to Mr. Turner.

He peered down at the paper for a moment and nodded agreeably, "I'll start getting these together for you right away."

Joshua spent the next fifteen or twenty minutes carrying grain, sugar, flour, salt, coffee and the other things Alice had on her list out to the wagon while Ethel and Alice perused through the assortment of cotton and linen fabric for cloth that could be made into dresses suitable for ranch life. In the end, two bolts of flowered cloth were added to the pile of goods. Despite the apparent interest of the townsfolk when he and Alice had driven into town, everyone left them to their own business while they were in the store, though he did see a few curious faces peering through the dust-covered front window.

Mr. Turner bent over, tallying up the purchases on a scrap of paper, and straightened, announcing, "That'll be six dollars and two bits."

Alice frowned slightly, "Are you sure you did the math correctly, Mr. Turner? I'm getting nearly twice as many supplies as I bought the last time I was in here, and that cost was around five dollars, as I recall."

The old man reddened slightly and darted a quick glance past Alice to Joshua, who was standing just behind her as he admitted, "A lot of the prices of goods in town have fallen these past two weeks since Mr. Hollander's death."

Joshua was unsurprised by Turner's guilty admission. A greedy man like Glen Hollander almost certainly had his hands in more than just land and deeds. Apparently he'd used his power and influence against the shopkeepers in town, likely by charging some kind of property or protection tax so they could stay in business, and the merchants had been forced to raise the prices on staple goods as a result.

Ethel nodded, grimly telling Alice, "He was an evil, evil man. I tell you, most people in Bisbee relieved he's dead and gone. Your William's liable to be given a hero's welcome when he's well enough to come to town. All the people that horrid man hurt or ruined over the years…" She clucked her tongue, shaking her head. "There's scarcely a family that's lived here in Bisbee for any length of time that didn't feel his boot pressing against their neck at one time or another. Glen Hollander got exactly what he deserved, and now he's facing the Lord's justice."

Clearing his throat, Mr. Turner said, "All right, that's enough gossip for one day, Ethel. As I was saying, six dollars and two bits."

His wife shook her head, waving a hand. "I apologize. Land o'Goshen, sometimes I do go on, don't I? Well, I've got more cookies I need to bake for this afternoon anyway. It was good seeing you again, dear," Ethel told Alice and gave her another quick hug before heading outside. Of course, as soon as she stepped off the boardwalk, three of the townswomen immediately converged upon the frumpy woman, no doubt eager for a gossip update.

Joshua took the opportunity to meander off so he could browse through the trading post's selection of men's clothing. He really did need at least two more shirts and one more pair of pants as well as a shaving kit. Dan's clothing fit him fine, sure, but it just didn't seem right to be wearing the dead man's clothes and coveting his wife at the same time.

Alice carefully counted out the money and gave it to Jacob with a smile. "Thank you."

The shopkeeper tucked the bills and coins into his money drawer and casually asked in a voice that was barely above a whisper, "So how's Mr. Mason working out as a cow hand for you?"

While his instinct for danger had saved his life on more than one occasion, Joshua also possessed one other important characteristic that had extended his longevity—unwholesomely good hearing. He just barely overheard the old man's question as he pulled out a long-sleeved burgundy shirt and stretched it out to see if it'd fit him or not.

"Very well, actually," he overheard Alice murmur. "He works hard and gets along wonderfully with both of the boys, and there's no doubt in my mind that he's the reason William's alive today." She hesitated and asked, "I hope you don't mind my asking something, but when I hired Mr. Mason on, I wasn't sure what amount was appropriate wages for the labor he's doing."

Joshua grimaced at her question. The woman was too stubborn for her own good. No doubt she'd insist on paying him the going rate of thirty-five dollars, even though he doubted she could afford it. He irritably selected another navy blue shirt similar in size to the first and loosely folded them together before inspecting the pants.

"Why, what're you paying him?" Turner inquired, looking across the store at Joshua.

"Twenty dollars a month."

Joshua looked up right as Jacob blinked at the price Alice quoted. "Hm. And does that include meals and board?"

Alice nodded, whispering, "Yes, but he sleeps in the barn."

"Then twenty dollars sounds about right to me," Turner told her quietly, to Joshua's surprise. In a normal voice, he asked, "Will that be all for you today, Mrs. Evans? Oh! I almost forgot…" He bent down and withdrew a stack of books and magazines tied together with cord. "For William. I'm sure he'll be wanting them, if he's going to be bedridden for any length of time."

"Thank you so much for everything, Mr. Turner," Alice said, smiling at the old shopkeeper and tucked the books under an arm as she walked toward Joshua. "Any luck?' she asked, gesturing at the men's clothing.

"Yes, I found two shirts that I think will fit me, the pants though…" Joshua shook his head dubiously.

She flipped through the trousers before settling on a pair that were the deep rich brown of roasted coffee beans and held them up, eyeing them critically. "These are probably a bit big on you, but would be easy enough to hem. I need to go across the street to the bank and see what's happening with Mr. Hollander's land. And I also need to go talk to Marshal Thompson about the cattle that have been coming onto our land."

He tensed at mention of the lawman. Thompson and his deputy had seemed like hard working men and Alice seemed to like both of them, but that didn't mean Joshua wanted to be spending any more time in their presence than he had to. Still, if she needed him to go, he had promised her he wouldn't leave her side.

"I know you've got a few other things you wanted to buy, so I'll head on to the bank and the Marshal's office and you can finish up here," she said, giving him a significant look that indicated she was aware of his reluctance to go to the law office.

"You sure?" Joshua asked.

"Yes, I'm sure," Alice said firmly and gave him a reassuring smile. "I'll see you in a little while. Goodbye, Mr. Turner," she called and made her way out the door.

Joshua gathered up the clothing to carry to the sales counter. He paused at the front window to watch as Alice walked across the dusty street before disappearing into the bank. When she was out of sight, he continued until he was standing opposite Jacob Turner, who was now leaning against the counter and reading the Bisbee newspaper. "You got shaving kits?"

Turner wordlessly pointed at the back wall of the room, and Joshua randomly selected a leather-wrapped kit and added it to the clothing he'd selected. "I think this will do it for me," he said and looked at the shopkeeper.

"Alice Evans is a far cry from your usual kind of woman, isn't she, Mr. Wade?" Mr. Turner commented mildly and lowered the paper to stare at Joshua from over the rim of his spectacles.

The former outlaw stiffened and his eyes were flinty as he rested his hands on the counter. "My name is Joshua Mason," he said coldly.

Jacob sniffed disdainfully, folding the newspaper and resting it on the counter. "I know who you are, and I know what your name is. I used to have a store back in Abilene before I moved here in '80. Saw you shoot a man dead about eight years ago… Daryl Boles. He was a loud-mouthed drunk and a braggart that fancied himself quite the card sharp, as I recall. You caught him cheating and killed him—right in front of his older brother."

That was a killing that Joshua would never forget, not just because of the man he'd killed, but because of what his brother Walter Boles had done to him six years later, stringing him up and pressing rods of electrified metal up to his chest.

The two men stared at each other across the counter and Jacob said, "It was you that killed Glen Hollander, wasn't it? Atkins too?"

Exhaling slowly, Joshua said, "Yes, I killed them. Will Evans also shot Hollander, it's true, but he was dead before Will's gun had even cleared the holster. I burned down the barn with Atkins in it—though not until I set all the horses free first." His lips twisted at the irony of showing more concern for the lives of the horses than the man.

Turner grunted, unsurprised by the confession. "Those two men caused this town more hardship and heartache during the six years that I've been here that can even be put to words." He stared out the window and closed his eyes for a brief moment. "A few years back, when I got behind on paying him a 'business tax'. I paid the tax, I got to stay in business. Anyway, when I got behind, they went after Ethel…" The shopkeeper suddenly looked ten years older. "She was lucky though… hit her head. She doesn't remember any of it."

Joshua didn't know what to say.

"Anyway," Jacob gave a slight shake of his head and continued, "Marshal Thompson isn't going even going to bother Judge Watkins with this, as it seems to be a clear case of self defense, what with Will being shot up and all."

"That's good to hear," Joshua said, though he'd figured as much from what Thompson had said that day he came out to the Evans ranch.

"Alice and her boys all know who you are?" Turner asked, one eyebrow raised inquisitively. When Joshua nodded, the old man shook his head with amazement. "Don't that beat all." The two men stared at each other for another long moment accessingly.

"So, how much for these?" Joshua finally asked, gesturing at the items on the counter.

"Three dollars even," the old man responded and watched as Joshua reached into his pocket and pulled off three bills off a roll of money, laying them on the counter. Turner added the money to the cash drawer and began wrapping the shirt and pants in paper.

"Thank you, Mr. Turner." Joshua leaned against the counter and peered out the large window, trying to see some of the business names on the opposite side of the street. "Do you happen to know where I could find a good saddle? Mine went up in flames when the barn at the Bar-H burned to the ground."

"Yep, Douglas Tack," Jacob replied, pointing. "You can see it just down the road, across from the Marshal's office."

It only took Turner a few minutes to finish wrapping the clothes and Joshua had just tucked the packages under his arm when the old shopkeeper spoke again. "Mr. Mason?" He picked up his newspaper and gave it a quick shake before opening it up, not even looking at Joshua as he spoke conversationally. "Alice Evans is a fine woman. That family's suffered through a lot over the past few years. I'm as grateful as anyone else that Glen Hollander is dead, regardless of who killed him…but don't think I won't take a horsewhip to you if I find out you've done anything to hurt her, or her boys, for that matter."

"Yes sir," Joshua said with amused respect and walked out of the store.

Trivia:

Due to the content of this chapter, I found myself doing a few searches on the internet that would commonly be used to refer to male genitalia and sex circa 1886, which is the setting of this story. Did you know that the word 'fuck' dates back to the 1500s? That 'shag' (from the late 1700s) meant to have sex long before Austin Powers ever used the word. The word 'pecker' didn't refer to a penis until the early 1900s, much to my surprise, I actually used it in chapter 1 in reference to Bill Gardner. Oops. And John Thomas and Johnson, both of which I had thought were specific to the Joss Whedon Firefly universe, were commonly used phrases when referring to the penis back around Civil War times.

Regarding the Alice/Joshua conversation about mirrors, garlic, sunlight and holy water. While most of us automatically think of Bram Stoker's Dracula (which was written in 1897) when using those characteristics all at once, in 1886 (the setting of this story) it was believed that any evil creature, be it a vampire or demon or otherwise, was afraid of mirrors, because it would show that they lacked a soul. Similarly, garlic was known to be an antibacterial and antiseptic agent and people would hang it around their necks (and in some cases around the necks of their livestock) to warn off demons and evil spirits. Holy water is obvious, duh, used to fight evil. And evil creatures in general were thought to avoid sunlight, because it was believed the sun had the power of purification and thus would destroy evil.

In the 1800s, people typically only had 2-3 changes of clothes, and since Wash Day (Monday) only came once a week, they would wear the same clothes for couple of days during the week. It was weird to think that Joshua would go take a bath in the creek, then immediately his dirty clothes back on, instead of having clean clothes laid out for him the way we do now.

I'll freely admit my ignorance. I had a lot of trouble finding maps on the internet that showed the exact range of Apache territory, or said when Miller's Peak got its name. So if Apache territory really didn't include Miller's peak during 1886, oops. My bad.

A healthy and well-trained horse like Dawson could potentially go 60-80 miles in 8 hours, depending on the terrain. However, it would require a good period of rest afterwards to recover.