Chris Larabee closed the door to his room behind him, slowly crossing to the dresser and retrieving the wooden box he kept in the top right drawer. He forced himself to open it and look inside. A lock of Sarah’s hair that she’d given him on their wedding night. One of Adams toys—a wooden horse Chris had carved, like the one he had carved for Billy Travis. There were a few more momentos, and there was the item he’d come to get. A silver coin.

As his fingers closed over the smooth metal, Chris became icy cold inside, and then icy hot. He had another chance. Molly Travis was connected somehow, and if he could find the connection, he would find his man.

Her Colt resting on the bedclothes, Molly patiently waited for Larabee’s return. Depending on why he had bolted out the clinic door, she might or might nothave a use for her gun. She didn’t have to wait long.

Without pausing to knock, Chris strode into the room and showed Molly his coin. Her gun came up and the triple click of her cocking the hammer back brought down an eerie silence. Neither Chris nor Molly seemed willing to break the impasse.

"’Scuse me. Would you two like to talk this out? Molly, there’s no need for that gun o’ yours. Chris ain’t gonna hurt you." Nathan watched the tension start to drain from both their faces, and let out a breath as Molly raised her revolver, slowly lowering the hammer.

"Where." Molly ground out. "Where did you get that?"

"From the saddlebags of the man who killed my wife and son. Cletus Fowler. Heard of him?" Chris eyes were glittering. The few seconds it took for Molly to answer seemed agonizingly long.

"Never. What’s the connection? Why was your family killed?"

"I was the one he was after. He tried again a few months back, but he won’t be trying again. I never was able to learn who hired him." Chris looked closer at the coin, examining the pattern—it appeared to be a family crest. "Any ideas what these are?"

"As a matter of fact. I’ve watched them used to get food and rooms in about a half dozen towns. Just walk up to the proprietor, shown him the coin, and you get unlimited credit. Food, drinks, entertainment, supplies—you name it. Whoever is behind this has more gold than Croesus." Molly paused, trying to read Chris’ expression. "He’s going to be hard to get to. Harder to kill."

Frowning in thought, Chris suddenly realized something. "You said three men came after you? You have four coins."

Molly had wondered when he’d notice. "The forth one was found near my brother’s body. Mary didn’t recognize it, and I thought it might be a clue to who murdered him. Wasn’t Stephen’s killer caught about four months ago?"

"Right about the time the attacks started on you." Chris said slowly. "Can’t be a coincidence. No wonder you’re worried about Mary and Billy." He leaned heavily against the wall, suddenly very tired. What the hell is this about? "Nathan, how soon can she be moved?""

Nathan sighed. "If it’s just a short way, right now. No long rides or nothin’ like that for a day or so. Molly?" He glared warningly at his patient.

"Yes, Nathan. I’ll be good." She smiled up at him, again.

"Damn, I hate when you do that." Still, he smiled back.

Chris decided it would be best if Molly occupied his room at the boarding house. It was a corner room--easy to defend--and it had a good view of the town below. He’d bunk in an empty room a few doors down. He watched as Molly did a quick inspection of both room and view.

"Yours?" It wasn’t really a question, and he knew it. He nodded, continuing to observe her as she surveyed the street. "Thank you."

"I’ll be in number four, if you need me." Chris started to take his leave.

"Larabee." Chris turned as Molly’s voice stopped him. "When we find whoever’s behind all this, I don’t care which of us takes him, so long as it’s done."

Chris nodded, knowing what she had just offered him. He stared for a moment longer, trying to decipher Molly Travis. Nathan had been unwilling to shed any light on why the daughter of a federal judge would take up hunting men for a profession. Maybe, if they both lived long enough, he would find out.

As Chris closed the door behind him, Molly stared at the place he had stood. Try as she might, she couldn’t decide if she liked Larabee, or if she was just putting her dislike on hold until the current situation resolved itself. At the moment, it didn't matter which.

Turning her thoughts elsewhere, Molly began mentally listing possible safe havens for Mary and Billy. Her parents would also need to be protected, at least until the reason for the murders became known.

She’d narrowed the list to three when she saw Vin Tanner riding back into town, leading a horse with a body slung over the saddle. Molly sighed. She’d killed her share of men, but it was always out of self-defense, and she could never get used to it—nor did she want to.

Grabbing her hat, she headed out to meet Vin. She was still weak, but the dizziness had subsided, and her aches had become more an annoyance than an encumbrance.

They met in front of the Sheriff’s Office. Vin looked at her appraisingly. "Shotgun. Both barrels."

Molly grimaced. "Yeah. Dropped my pistol when I got this." She tapped her bandage. "Shotgun was handy, and I sure as hell didn’t want to miss. You backtracked me?"

"Weren't hard. That mare of yours needs to be re-shod. That back left is all worn out, and the others ain't so good neither."

"I know." Molly smiled crookedly at her old friend. "It’s good to see you again, Vin."

"You too." A smile slowly crept across his face. "How’s the head?" They had met when Molly had found him lying unconscious from a similar injury. He still had the scar, hidden by his long hair.

Before she could respond, J.D. Dunne joined them on the boardwalk. "Vin. What the...?" He looked back and forth between Vin, Molly, and the laden horse. Confusion fought, and won, for control of his face.

"It’s the feller who shot Molly. Leastways it was the feller." Vin corrected himself. "Take my word on it, J.D., he’s dead."

J.D. swallowed, understanding the meaning behind Vin’s words. "I’ll take him.". Vin handed over the reins, and J.D. led the horse and its burden down the street to the undertaker’s.

"What's the connection?" Molly worked one of the silver coins between nervous fingers. She hadn't slept since first waking in Nathan's clinic two days earlier, and it took an effort to concentrate.

"There is no connection. We've gone over it a dozen times." Chris drained his whiskey glass. "There's no damned connection." He rose and left the saloon.

Molly looked at the two men who still shared her table. Buck stared at his beer, lost in thought. Vin was watching Chris' exit.

As the batwing doors grew quiet once more, Vin spoke up. "You done any huntin' down Eagle Bend way?"

"No. You think that's where this is coming from?"

Buck answered. "Whoever's behind all this wants you dead, but was willin' to settle for Chris leavin' the area. Seems like you're the bigger threat to him."

"What about Stephen? Mary's going through the old issues of the Clarion for the six months before he died. If there's a story that mentions Larabee or Eagle Bend, or me, she'll find it."

Vin nodded. "Ezra and Josiah are checkin' the land records here and wirin' to Eagle Bend to try and get the names of the bigger landowners 'round there."

Buck finished his beer and climbed to his feet. "I'm gonna go find out where Chris got off to." He flashed them a quick grin and headed out the door.

"That man smiles more than any person I've ever met. I hope to hell it's not contagious." Molly finished her whiskey and poured another.

Vin broke out in a grin.

"Shit…." Molly downed the drink in one swallow and rose to leave. "I'm going to go see if Mary can use some help."

"…me to move in with him and your mother, but I wanted to stay here. I'd like to think it's what Stephen would have wanted." Mary Travis moved the stack of papers aside and glanced up as the Clarion's front door opened.

"Ladies." Buck Wilmington entered with Larabee close on his heels.

Chris walked past the bigger man, coming to a halt at Mary's elbow. "Anything?"

"Helpful? I don't think so. Stephen didn't ruffle as many feathers as some editors do. There are a few references to Eagle Bend, but none concern land ownership. Molly was never mentioned, although that's easily understood." Mary threw a smile at the older woman. "Your name, Chris, shows up several times. Stephen apparently followed your…career."

Chris snorted.

"I didn't find anything that would help, though." Mary sighed. "I'm about to start going though Stephen's things. I can't think of what else to do. Any word about the land deeds?"

"Ezra and Josiah are still workin' on them. I figured Ezra would know what to look for, turns out Josiah does, too. If there's anything to find, those two'll find it." Chris tuned his attention back to Mary's efforts. She'd emptied the contents of a small box onto the middle of her writing desk and was methodically sorting them.

"His journal. I'll read it again tonight, but I don't remember anything that would be of use in it." Mary smirked. "Your name shows up there too, Chris.'

Chris' mouth dropped open. "In his journal?"

"Apparently, he witnessed you killing a man. He'd never seen anyone shot before then, much less killed. It made an impression." Mary's expression darkened as memories of her husband continued to surface. "Stephen didn't believe in violence."

As she sifted through the remainder of Stephen's belongings, Mary began to realize that she no longer mourned his death. She still missed him, she still loved him, but at some point she had moved on.

"What's are those?" Chris reached around Mary to pull several photographs loose from beneath a stack of letters.

"Our wedding picture, the Judge and his former law partners, Molly, and one of Stephen, Billy, and I together. I think there's one of Oren and Evie, too." Mary tapped the top photograph. "This one."

Chris glanced at each image before handing them to Buck, who elbowed Molly when he was handed the picture of her wearing a very proper dress.

"Hell, Molly. This damn near makes me believe all them stories about you being a woman. This gal looks like you a little." Buck reached for the next picture just as Chris snatched it back.

All eyes snapped to the deathly still gunman.

"Chris?" Buck felt a familiar tingle run through his body. It wouldn't be long now until hell broke loose.

"Mary?" Chris handed the picture back to the blonde newswoman. "Who are these men with the Judge? Their names. Do you know?" His voice was soft, but his eyes had gone hard.

Clearing her throat, Mary began to provide the names. "The man on the left, his name is Richard Arlington, standing to the left of the Judge is Joseph Grant, and on the right…I think his name is Jacob Thorn, no Thornton. Jacob Thornton. I believe he's dead." She looked up into eyes she had never seen before. "Why?"

"Because I always like knowin' who it is I'm gonna kill. Joseph Grant is a dead man."

Chris turned and left the room, slamming the Clarion's door shut behind him.

Buck turned to see Molly shaking with anger. "Molly?"

Ignoring Buck, Molly turned to Mary. "The Judge never told you what happened to the partnership?"

Mary shook her head, her confusion evident. "He told me that Jacob Thornton had died just before it was dissolved, but he never said anything about Joseph Grant. Stephen didn't either. Not even in his journal."

"Stephen wouldn't." Molly sighed. "He was a very loyal son and brother." Molly sat on a corner of Mary's desk, suddenly feeling very old. "Joseph Grant betrayed his partners, and disappeared from the face of the earth. The Judge assumed he'd either fled the country or made his way to California, which would amount to the same thing, in some ways."

"Betrayed how?" Buck asked.

"Grant had been making a fortune forging land deeds and providing legal advice to some of the less honorable of Denver's citizens. Only the wealthiest ones, of course. The Judge and Jacob found out about his…ventures. Jacob made the mistake of going to see Grant, to talk to him. He was shot. Died a week later." Molly's eyes darkened at the memory. "My father considered Joseph to be his best friend in those days, and when the truth came out, he didn't take it too well. He blamed himself for Jacob's murder." Molly stared at the photograph Mary still held in her hand. "I was nineteen at the time."

"But why kill Stephen?" Mary's eyes threatened to spill tears.

"Grant left a note behind, promising that one day he'd have his revenge for the Judge ruining his plans. Killing the Judge might not be revenge enough. Maybe killing his children has to come first. You and Billy are in danger, Mary."

"J.D. and Nathan are with Billy now. He's safe." She thought for a moment. "Molly, you aren't…" Mary began.

"Going to kill him?" Molly smiled. "If I can get Larabee to move aside long enough, I'm going to send Grant straight to hell. He killed Stephen, Mary. I'd have thought you'd want him dead."

"Not this way. Let the law take care of him. Molly, please!"

"I can't promise, but I've never killed anyone who wasn't trying to kill me. I'm not sure I could." Looking again at the picture of the four men, Molly continued. "Much as I might want to."

Mary noticed the other woman's gaze had wandered back to the photograph again, and she held it out to her. "Keep it. And if you ever want to tell me the rest of the story, I'll be happy to listen."

Molly nodded as she accepted the picture. "I didn't leave out anything that needed to be said." She tucked the picture safely away in a coat pocket and left the Clarion.

Buck stared after her thoughtfully.