Bound to Grace

Elijah Allen, warranted US Marshall, was out of his jurisdiction for several months in the summer of 46. Following a blood bath between cattle ranchers near the Platte and outlaws from Missouri, Elijah choose to check out for a spell, traveling into Northern Mexico and staying for a spell in Trinidad. There, he drank himself into a stupor night after night, listening to tales of Texas – its bold claim of independence from Mexico, its appeal to Congress to be admitted as a state. The curiosity of whether it would be allowed and, if so, as a slave state or not was quite the talk north of Mexico, but down there in New Trinidad, it was mixed between whether a people could proclaim such independence.

Marshall Allen didn’t so much care, what concerned him near that summers end was that his funds were bordering on low and he’d have to take some work if he wanted to forget about his fellow men for another spell. He could claim what was his rights up at Vrain’s Fort, north of Castle Rock, his government allotment, if he could find someone to vouch for the paper or a miner to sell it off too. Thus, one warm morning, he loaded up Star and road that horse for the Fort. Good news was that despite America entering into war with Mexico, there wasn’t much of either country in this part of the world, he could just ride between non-existent borders and freely go about his business. The mark of his profession, the star in the circle, returned to his breast once he was confident he was on American soil.

Within a week, he was at the gates, ready to return to his bed at ‘home’ but it wasn’t to be. Steve Campbell was there to greet him, a wiry, wisp of a man that was aid to Consul Thomas O. Larkin. His purpose was to greet a coach coming by way of St. Joseph Missouri. Mr. Campbell couldn’t hold the fort on that one, when the Marshall returned to his post, the man wanted the Marshall out north of Indian Territory waiting the guests of Consul Larkin and to escort them to the fort and, perhaps beyond.

Elijah took the man to private quarters and bartered a fair fee for these services, above and beyond his authorization as a US Marshall and, in that constraint, Mr. Campbell could do ought but oblige with an extra fee for services to be rendered by Marshall Allen. This was good for Elijah, he could hold off on US bonds and finding someone to make good with real money on such a trade. It would go into the pile in his safe.

Thus, it came that Marshal Elijah Allen road forth alone, wearing a worn hat, curved under the strain of fingers adjusting to block the sun, a duster for comfort alone, chaps and boots. His face grizzled, dying to meet a razor but not grown enough to be a beard just yet. With provisions for a fortnight, he packed his only modern item, a Winchester Packmaster with carbolic steam chamber designed for distance and velocity, vortexed barrel that increased the torque of the rounds for accuracy, and a steam barrel extension to prevent burn back from steam released during firing of the weapon. It was packed to the horse’s load, but ready to be drawn from anyone on saddle, or anyone on foot who knew where to pull the weapon at.

His olive eyes took in the landscape around him as he road along the worn, dusty trail the coach travelled, marking rocks, lizards, buzzards, plant life, the mundane usual in this part of the West. Instead of focusing too much on these details that he’d seen a hundred times, he thought of the steam coach crossing the plains out there. It was a newer Concord, with a light generator intended both to give power to the chassis, reducing the horse load, as well as giving some sort of modern convenience for the slickers coming out this way to catch up with family or do whatever it was they were intending. The drapes would reel up and down on their own when it worked and there was a personal ladies fan that would buffet a lady with air. From what Elijah had heard, the rotary coils of the fan was enough to make it more of a noisy nuisance than a convenience, but he enjoyed the weather in these parts.

More than a week had passed and he was nearing where he guessed he would meet the specific coach his fare was travelling in. The coach left weekly on the dot, meaning there was 3-5 coaches moving along the line and several days ago he had met last weeks coach. No news of the other coach, but rumors of uprisings in Indian Territory was a concern. Not to mention bandits active in Nebraska Territory seeking to make good on those people traveling to newly opened territories out west or simply wanting to escape US Law. He'd camp out a night and then proceed slowly along the trail until he met that coach.

Joanna Jansen was traveling from St. Joseph, Missouri via coach with her ward, six year old Sarah Jansen. Of course, the girls real name was not Jansen as was it not also the woman with long brown wavy tresses who now held the child cradled in her arms as she slept. Joanna had taken the name two years ago when she had come to earth not for the purpose of saving the girl, but of making her transition to death easier.

Joanna leaned her head back, resting it on the back of the leather seat and listening to the sound of whistling wind as the steam powered coach continued to take them upon their journey towards Vrain's Fort where she had decided would be as good of a place as any for herself and Sarah to begin their life over. The coach itself was relatively quiet, although perhaps not as quiet as a regular horse drawn coach, the small fan actually being rather noisy as they traveled. Her eyes remained closed for the briefest of moments as the little blonde haired girl stirred in her sleep. Joanna's eyes shot open and she pulled the child closer to her. One hand smoothed the fair skinned child's long locks away from her eyes as the once upon a time angel smiled down at the girl. Sarah was the reason for her being here.

Sarah was the reason that Joanna had become a fallen angel.

She softly murmured in a hushed voice soothing words and sounds to the child to help keep the girl asleep as she looked down upon her. Joanna could still so vividly recall the day that she had been sent to earth to be the young babes angel of mercy, or to put it even in simpler terms, to guide the child through death and into heaven. When it actually came time to take the child from it's already dead parents at the hands of bandits as they had tried to make their way westward along much the same path that the coach was now traveling, Joanna had found herself to be incapable of allowing the child to die.

Although Joanna had known that in doing so she may possibly lose her wings and be bound to earth to live among the humans, it had become clear to her that it was something that she needed to do. She could not allow the child to die, even if it meant that God would cast her from heaven. Joanna had never questioned God before that day but when the moment came to allow the child to pass from the realms of earth into that of heaven, Joanna had held back and for the first time she had questioned God. In doing so, she was certain that she would be left to walk the earth, but at least the child would have someone and would be protected.

Instead of allowing the child to die, Joanna had laid her hands upon her and through her, the child had been healed. Joanna's light had burned brightly that day as the healing touch was passed from her to child, and seconds later Joanna knew that she had been stripped of her wings. It was not until sometime later however, that Joanna came to suspect that she had not been stripped of all of her powers, but only with her gift of flight. This was her punishment for disobeying God, and she had accepted it as such but she held on to hope. Hope that because all of her angelic powers had not been taken from her, that some day perhaps she might again see the gates of heaven opening to allow her to come home.

Her fingers stroked the child's hair idly as she also regarded the fact that she suspected, although it had yet to be proven that the child had somehow inherited some of Joanna's powers that day that she had been given the gift of life. Joanna had yet to be able to prove that she was correct, but there had been instances, unexplainable instances where the girl appeared to have extraordinary senses, or abilities. Time would tell if Joanna were correct in her assessment or not.

As the young bundle in her arms was lulled back to sleep, Joanna's extra ordinary sense of hearing would pick up the sound of riders approaching, hard and fast. Seconds later, the sound of gun shots would shatter the otherwise peaceful moment and Joanna would react, shielding the girls body with her own in case any of the rounds made their way into the coach. Emerald eyes looked over to the seat opposite of her where an elderly couple sat, now clinging to each other as Sarah began to stir from her slumber. Joanna remained in a bent over position over the girl, protecting her the best that she could while trying to soothe the child.

If she only still had her wings, she could wrap the child in the protection of the angels but all that Joanna could do now was do her best to keep her safe, and alive, and pray that God would stop whatever madness was happening outside of the coach.

The chaos erupted around the coach in a flurry of dust brought on by the riders’ horses. Their hooves clomped upon the ground as they were reigned in to slow their galloping pace. More gunshot erupted, the sound of lead hitting wood and, in some cases, metal, creating a cacophony of discord. As the riders’ road near the windows, their howls and cries could be heard from within. Savage war cries, whoops and hollers, as if it were Native Americans. One familiar with those tribes in the Indian Territories might be curious to these cries now, not being authentic. As if in part of this ruse, the even fired bows in at the windows. It was obvious there was no intent at robbing the coach, but at all out bloodshed.

There was a whinny from the coach’s horse and then it too went silent, the coach lurching against the animal’s now dead weight. If the coachman was still out there, he was making no present protest to the situation or was too busy retaliating. Good hearing would certainly be keen to realize if he was there, he wasn’t returning fire. All the gunshots were coming from the savage riders attacking the coach.

The elderly woman broke into that symphony of madness with a scream as a bullet cut into her husband killing him near instantly. Even as she was moving over him, to try and push him to the floor of the coach – perhaps in competition with Joanna and the child for that one seemingly safe spot – the window erupted in ten thousand shards of glass, catching rainbows off the sun and filling the inside of the coach with its splendid glory. Against this whirlwind of light was the arrow that had shattered the window and had penetrated the woman before she could give any real aid to her husband. Much the same, it was a clean shot as the bullet that found the elderly man and the two crumpled over together in their seat, no longer breathing.

There was a moment of silence as the attackers outside were perhaps regrouping but that moment too was broken when a louder weapon fired a report from somewhere in the near distance. Marshall Allen had heard the initial gunfire of the faux Native Americans, spurring Star into a race to see what had been going on. Reluctant to get involved in real situations like this these days, he paused a moment to observe what was happening on a nearby hill. However, seeing the stagecoach under attack and the horse fall, he was inclined that this was part of his fare. Despite his uncaring attitude towards the people he was employed to see to safety, he still cared enough about the money.

Unslinging his Packmaster from the saddle, he took a moment to brace himself against Star’s neck and take aim with the long scope of the weapon. That moment pause and the moment to take real aim in the end would cost him that reward by Mr. Steve Campbell. Presently though, his concern now was dealing with the attackers and then getting to the coach. It wasn’t hard to drop the first couple of riders, until they realized his location and took cover around the coach. None got off their horses, least they become trapped by whatever gunman or men was out there. Elijah was hidden amidst the natural terrain and it became a brief holdout but after a couple more of the outlaws dressed as Native Americans the remainder turned tail and fled.

Giving them enough time to leave, accounting for possible flanking or a return, he nudged Star out of the brush he had found and cantered back down towards the main coach trail, letting the hooves of his horse scrabble lightly on the slip as he made his way down to investigate the coach. He was in no hurry at the moment, keeping an eye to the horizon and any possible return of the outlaws.

Joanna remained curled over the frightened youngster, her hand covering her mouth to muffle the screams as she pleaded with the girl. "Sarah, I know you are frightened but you have to be quiet until we know that the bad men are gone, please."

Joanna's eyes met the elderly woman's as the arrow tore through her frail body, her effort to protect her dying husband of no worth at that point. Joanna's eyes filled with tears. She didn't know if it had truly been the older couples time or if their time had come to soon, as she couldn't tell if any angels of mercy had been present to take the couple home, but a prayer would escape her lips that the man and woman would be guided to heaven and received at the gate with welcome arms. Her eyes conveyed a softness to the other woman as she saw her body heave with a last breath, and then the woman would join her husband in death.

It wasn't until the shooting had ended and the sound of hoof beats thundered away from the coach that Joanna returned to an upright position, still holding Sarah. Sarah whimpered at the sight of the deceased couple in such close proximity to her, and Joanna's cooed and consoled the young girl the best that she could. Her ears, however, had picked up the sound of an approaching horse and rider. It was a single horse, not many like before. Joanna peered cautiously from behind the broken glass window out into the daylight and saw the figure of a rider in duster coming closer and closer to the coach but from the distance Joanna could not determine yet if rider were friend or foe.

With the child still shaking in her arms, Joanna had to make a decision that literally broke her heart. She could get out of the coach herself to face the lone man, and ask Sarah to hide and pretend that she was also dead in case the man were foe, perhaps buying Joanna the time she needed to get him to leave the coach alone, and possibly leaving Sarah abandoned. But it was better that the child be abandoned and alive than to allow some strange, possibly deranged killer to know that the child lived. Or, she could take the child with her out of the coach and pray that the rider was friend.

It was not a risk Joanna was willing to take. She had to protect Sarah, just like she had when she'd made the decision to fall from grace all of those years ago. Joanna smoothed the child's blonde curls as she spoke to her, softly but firmly.

"Sarah, I need you to stay in the coach on the floor." Sarah's eyes widened and she whimpered out "no Mommy" but Joanna insisted "Sarah honey I know this is hard but you have to do as I tell you. It's the only way I can protect you, do you understand?" Sarah whimpered but nodded affirmatively and Joanna helped her to the floor, instructing her to remain still and quiet while she partially covered her body with that of the old woman. "Stay here Sarah, don't come out or make a sound until you know that it's safe, do you understand?" Despite the terror in the young girls eyes, again she nodded and Joanna would kiss her forehead, fearful that it would be the last time she would ever see the girl but certain that if she could make it appear that everyone in the coach had perished but herself, the child would be safe and would live.

Joanna moved inside of the carriage, and with one last smile "Remain quiet, no matter what Sarah, stay quiet and don't move until you know it's safe." With that, Joanna opened the door of the carriage and stepped outside, gasping at the sight of the bullet holes and the dead coachmen, along with the dead horses and bandits who appeared to be Native Americans, apparently the savage type. Joanna knew that most Native Americans were peaceful and not savages, and found it odd that these had chosen to attack the stage coach. Steam still poured from the stack, the coach should have still been pressing closer to their destination and the old couple should still be alive. Once again Joanna had to question why God had allowed this to happen but in her heart knew that in his great wisdom, she should not be questioning his reasons. As the rider drew near she fell to her knees, her hands behind her head and already she was begging for her life, trying to draw any interest from within the inside of the coach.

"Please, don't kill me please. Take what you want, it's all tied to the top of the coach but please, don't kill me." Her lithe form shook with her tears and fear that Sarah would be found, she too afraid to look up to see whether or not the intruder was a good guy or bad guy. If she weren't dead soon, she would have her answer.

With one hand on the reigns, Elijah pulled up left and right occasionally, guiding Star in a switchback sort of gait to come down the hill he had used for the advantage. Surveying the scene as he approached, he took note of the fallen, more attention given to the savages. It wasn’t hard to pick up they were rebels using Indian uprisings as a guise. They all head the faux feather headbands that many people back east assumed all Indians wore. Those that chose ‘war’ paint had no real idea what they were doing or what colors were even appropriate other than trying to make savage images on themselves.

The wind rustled a little and distant shrike pierced the sky, blood was on the wind and the scavengers are hungry for that scent. Carrion birds would be circling soon and that wasn’t a good sign. Anyone else out here looking for some loot might come this way if the birds circled high enough. He had to do his job, get to the coach, see if the guests of Consul Larkin were hiding under cover, get them out or simply report back to Mr. Campbell that they didn’t quite make it. That wasn’t a happy thought, he wouldn’t get full pay if they’d died in this raid. In fact, he might be prompted to round up the rebels for some bounty to make up for his losses on his current contract.

Just then, as he was amongst the bodies of the bandits and not far off from the coach itself, the door opened and outstepped a woman. The cold blood of his veins seemed to warm then, Marshall Anderson was a man after all and this was certainly a woman as far as women went. His eyes fell dead upon her and his measuring stair could have been mistaken for malice perhaps but was really just a moment of stunned silence. With a light tug on those reigns with his right hand, he stopped Star just as she fell to her knees and began to beg for her life.

“You got me wrong,” he said, his voice with a light crack speaking of the dryness of his travels, “Those bandits are run off. What I do need is to know if Dr. and Mrs. Avery Emmett are on board your coach there.” He was holding up his left hand peaceably but decided to dismount then, letting Star wander and nibble at any weeds or grass that the horse could find. As he neared, he offered a hand out to the woman to help her to her feet. “If you don’t mind, I’ll just take a look … if they’re alive, I’ll escort them out of here, if not, then I’ll simply be out of your business. If it suits you?”

His hand was already reaching for the door hand then, but he let it hesitate in the air, making sure she wouldn’t panic again, or affirming she had no reservations about him looking into the coach. It was clear that while his eyes did fancy the lady that had just pleaded for her life, his interest was purely in the older couple, a man of business it would seem and out here on the frontier, business was deadly.

Joanna huddled near the ground as the stranger approached. He had approached slowly enough, and she heard him dismounting his horse. She had been afraid that any moment his hands would be upon her, dragging her or worse, killing her but instead he spoke. Although his voice sounded rather parched, he spoke calmly as he informed her she had misjudged his reasons for being there. Then he mentioned the older couple and she finally looked up at him. Had she been looking up earlier she might have seen that he was holding his hand in a manner of offering peace but she had only looked up in time to see him offering her his hand.

She reached for his his hand, accepting his offer of help. She stood on wobbly legs but somehow she managed to find the strength to stand, wiping her tears from her face as she did so. She had just begun to catch her breath and tell him that the older couple had perished, the older woman's frightened face appearing to her once again, the moment her husband had taken his last breath and the pain that came with it on his wife's face. She'd not yet had time to tell the tall stranger who appeared to her to be almost handsome under the layer of dust from his travels that the old couple hadn't made it when he mentioned entering the carriage.

Surprisingly enough, her legs carried her to the door of the coach quickly, her skirt rustling around her hips as they swayed with each step. Her hand rested on the door of the coach. He may have appeared to be there to gather the older couple, but Joanna was not yet certain he could be trusted and she would not allow him to find Sarah.

She stopped him then "You say an older couple. A doctor and his wife." Sadness spread across her face, a genuine sadness "I'm sorry to inform you that the both perished in the attack. There is no one else inside, there was only them and myself."

Since having lost her wings, Joanna had only had to lie a few times and each time she hated it more. This time would be no different but for Sarah's sake, she would lie all day if she had to in order to keep her precious Sarah safe.

She offered her hand once more, this time in a proper greeting.

"My name is Joanna Jansen. I'm sorry for the circumstances of our meeting."

Just then Joanna heard Sarah cough softly, a barely audible sound that came from within the coach. Her grip tightened on the door in case the man she now recognized to be possibly a sheriff had heard the subtle noise.

When she had taken his hand, she had taken him by surprise. Something in him itched like a bad memory out of his past, from a time when he actually cared. Perhaps it was the way she readily took the hand, moving wobbly to her feet, finding the strength through one helping hand. It was that moment of the memory filtering through his that caused that pause when he reached for the door.

The way she moved then belied the recent emotional turmoil she had gone through, or it was a ploy of some sort. Was she hiding something or protecting something. Crooking his brow line with curiosity at her gesture while she explained they had perished and no one else was inside, his olive eyes read the lines of her face a moment, as if pondering why she would take the time to offer that there is no one else inside. He didn’t care about anyone else, only the doctor and his wife.

“Now, Ms. Jansen,” he began, taking the offered hand, and then he paused. There was no recognition if he had heard the cough from inside but his eyes seemed to lower towards her grip on the door. The hand holding hers let it go reluctantly and moved to adjust the hat atop his head. Then both hands fell to his sides for the moment.

“I can tell you’d prefer if I didn’t enter the coach,” he said, “So then, perhaps, you could simply show me the doctor and his wife.” Half a smile, even though he wouldn’t get full pay, he was still going to be sure that his charges were dead after all. “I’ll check any papers they have and then I’ll just leave you to the coach here.”

His eyes sought after hers a moment, as if to penetrate there, to see what truth there might have been.

“Though, I wouldn’t recommend staying much longer, no telling who the buzzards will attract.” Not that the birds where near just yet, but there were a few black winged things between the coach and the horizon, circling their way closer. Unsure the trouble was over, but hungry just the same it would seem.

As if on cue, Star whinnied a little and hooved at the ground. Then again, whatever the horse was on about, it went right back to grazing as if nothing was wrong in the world.

Joanna stood in front of the coach, her hand still on the door. She wanted to trust this human, but after what had just happened she was having a very hard time doing just that. Certainly, he'd not killed her but her only thought had been to protect Sarah at all costs. It was then that Joanna realized, that she actually had thought of nothing else but Sarah. She hadn't considered that the man had acted as a gentleman. He'd offered her assistance in a very non threatening way. Even now, he was using reason as he spoke of his deceased charges.

Joanna's eyes fell to the ground as she shuffled her feet, her hand releasing the door. "The doctor and his wife are in here." She stepped aside hesitantly "But I'm afraid Mr..." her voice trailing off as she remembered he hadn't given his name "I'm afraid I owe you an apology. I wasn't truthful with you." She looked up into olive eyes with her own emerald orbs trying to convey her sincerity. "The good doctor and his wife have perished but there is another passenger. Please, you must understand I didn't know who you were..I was trying to protect her."

Joanna's hand returned to the door of the stagecoach, pulling it open. For a moment the stranger with no last name would see her blocking the doorway and hear her speaking "You can come out now Sarah, it's safe." After a bit of rustling and some small noises of a whimpering sound, Joanna would turn around, the young blonde hair girl with curls clinging to the angels neck as she set her down. "It's okay Sarah, we are safe now." She assured the girl with tear stained cheeks. Joanna turned her attention back to the sheriff. "This is my daughter, Sarah." Of course Sarah wasn't her real daughter, but she felt as though the child were hers now and certainly she was her responsibility.

"Sarah, say hello and thank you to the nice man who rescued us." The child who was frightened seemed to quickly forget the past several moments as a smile broke out across her fair complected features, bright blue eyes staring up at the man with the stubbly cheeks. "Hello" the childs voice almost a melodic sound that filled the air "Thank you for saving us." The girl with the pale blue and yellow dress on did a little curtsey then as Joanna had taught her to do when addressing her elders. Joanna couldn't help but smile as the tiny sis year old caused her to feel a great swell of pride rising in her chest. Even under these circumstances, Sarah seemed to hold a special quality about her.

Mostly, Elijah’s eyes followed Joanna as she moved, catching her own eyes as she looked up into his and something in his features warming when they met. Even as she turned to bring the young blonde haired girl out, his eyes were more interested in the way the curls clung to her neck. When she was introduced as the woman’s daughter, Elijah lifted a finger to near his hat and offered, “My apologies, Mrs. Jansen.” A simple correction for only having identified are as a Ms. previously.

Then, the young Sarah was out and saying hello and even thanking him. It caught him off guard yet again. Out here, the middle of nowhere as it were, it was like this was where adults did cruel things to each other, not the area where a man finds his charges dead and leaves a mother and her child to find their own way to Vrain’s Fort. The hand that tipped his apology found the stubble on his face and scratched as he pulled at his chin.

Somewhere was a smile waiting to come out though, at the brightness of the young girl, that special something he couldn’t place his finger on. It was a twitch at best perhaps, something of a hint at the very corner of his mouth and in his cheek. Maybe the way his eyes sparkled, not quite the same way when he looked at Joanna, this one more pure. “Hello there Ms. Sarah,” he finally responded, the parchedness retreating the more he talked. “No need for thanks really.” It was honestly, even if it was honest in implying there was no need for thanks because his intention wasn’t to save the Jansens, they were saved by virtue of default. That is, he came to save this coach, they happened to be on it.

Even as the smile toyed in the recesses of his mind, Elijah found he was suddenly angry with himself. That was because now he was wrestling forgoing everything he’d seen, done, and experienced since becoming a US Marshall, all that which made him hard and, perhaps, cruel to the world. He’d given up on humanity, best to let them rot. Now there was this young girl and her mother and something about this girl, well, it made him care again. He didn’t know if he was ready for this, to care for someone else, and he was surprised a child was doing this to him now. There was silence in the air as some of these thoughts may have played out on his face.

He turned, not much to look out, two dead people in the coach, one coachman slain atop it, and instead focused on his horse for the moment. “Well Mrs. Jansen, here we have a situation. I was comfortable leaving you to your business in the coach once I knew what happened to the doctor and his wife. Your daughter here has complicated that. In good conscious, I can’t leave you two out here.”

Then he turned to look over his shoulder, more at Sarah, “I’ve only got one horse, hopefully you like to ride.” He asked it than was curious at himself, he never offered children to ride on his horse. If it mattered, it probably seemed Star wouldn’t mind either. There was still plenty to settle, perhaps it was meant more as something for Sarah to do so Elijah could discuss more details with Joanna.

"The name is Ms. Jansen, and I assure you Mr.." He still had not given his name yet but she continued anyhow "I assure you that my daughter and I would be just fine without your help."

She regretted having said it the moment it slipped from her mouth but his acting as though she were not capable of protecting Sarah had irritated her if for no reason other than was it not she who had saved the girl. Or course, the sheriff had no way of knowing that though, and it wasn't like she could tell him the entire truth anyhow.

She quickly offered an apology then "I'm sorry Sheriff, it's just that it's been Sarah and I alone for so long now I fear perhaps I am a bit over protective of her." She toyed with the girls blonde locks softly, tenderly as she looked up into his olive eyes "She is most precious."

Just then Sarah tugged at her hand and on her skirt "Mommy mommy, he said that I can ride on his horse. Would that be okay mommy, please?" She was answering the sheriffs question of if she liked to ride without even having realized it.

"Of course honey, if the sheriff doesn't mind?" Joanna looked questioningly at the sheriff. "She does enjoy riding but never before has she rode such a large horse before, are you rather certain that it is alright?" she asked nervously.

As Sarah pranced around at the thought of riding such a magnificent animal, Joanna finally managed to steal a glance at the sheriff. Something about him looked hard, but the way that he looked at Sarah indicated that he had not always been such a hard man. Joanna saw past a layer of toughness into something else, perhaps something long forgotten. Perhaps this sheriff had his own demons to bear, just as she herself had a past. It was a past that she would never be able to explain, a past that she had needed to come to terms with. She was no longer one of God's elite, having given it up for Sarah.

Her hand rested on the bubbly child's shoulder. Never once had she regretted her decision and she would do it all over again today if she needed. While it may be true that she could not protect the girl in the same way that she once could have, she would die protecting the child if she had too.

"If it is all right with you we will journey with you back to Vrain's Fort, but I do not wish to burden you with our presence and you will be rid of us as soon as we arrive, I assure you."

She cast her soft green eyes to the ground then. "I've nothing to pay you with now for your troubles, but if you help us get to the forum, I will find a way to repay you as soon as possible." Joanna knew that with the bandits still possibly around, Sarah and her had a better chance of reaching the fort with the sheriffs help than without it.

Slowly, Elijah turned back to the woman and child as he took in all that was said. “It’s Marshall,” he offered, seemingly randomly as he moved back towards the coach and started to climb on top of the contraption. “Not Sheriff. This is only US Territory out here, no sheriff’s just Marshalls.” As if that explained everything. “Marshall Elijah Anderson, stationed with the fort currently.” More talking simply to pass time while he climbed up and then, once there, he began looking at luggage. Anything not marked for Dr. or Mrs. Emmett, was assisted to the ground by Elijah. Not all together roughly, but each item plodded on the ground with a small cloud of dust just the same. He didn’t bother to even ask what belonged to the young lady or the child, they could sort that out.

As he did this, he continued speaking towards Ms. Jansen. “Don’t worry about payments. This is one of those doing my job routines. There’s a lot of unrest out here, from real Indians, to bandits like these, and general people up to no good. Like I said before, I can’t leave you in good conscience.” He pushed a large doctors bag out of the way, something inside seemed to break but he paid that no mind.

Then to Sarah, “Course you can ride him, he seems friendly to you. Just don’t feed him no sugar cubes, Star doesn’t need any of that. Let him get a good smell of your hand first.”

Thinking he had enough from the top, not accounting for anything inside, Elijah began to climb off the coach then. “So, just essentials,” he hopped off the last few feet, plodding right down with the items he did find up there that didn’t seem to belong to the late doctor and his wife. “I’ll carry what I can, as will Star. But on foot we have a good two weeks of travel to get to the fort and no telling what trouble is waiting out there.”

Then he moved closer to Ms. Jansen, “This isn’t to say you can’t manage on your own or that you haven’t done a fair job with the girl as it is. I’m sure you’re more than capable, but I’d rather be safe than going on ahead and wondering if anything has happened to either of you.”

Joanna hadn't considered that he would hold the title of Marshall and not Sheriff. She'd just learned his name to be Elijah. Elijah, the mighty one was its meaning if she remembered correctly. It was a good, strong name much befitting of the rather rugged, and handsome man who was now going through the luggage on top of the coach.

Sarah laughed with glee when he mentioned that she would be allowed to ride Star. "Oh thank you mister!" she exclaimed, minding her manners and giving a little curtsey before turning to Joanna, her skirt twirling around as she did so. "Did you hear that Mommy! I get to ride the horsie!"

Joanna laughed "Yes dear, the nice man said that you could ride his beautiful animal.' Joanna moved to Star's side then along with the child who offered her hand to him first, to be followed by Joanna's own hand. Talking to the horse lowly she petted his nose. Star gave a soft whinny which she would take to be approval.

Then to Elijah she offered a soft smile "Of course your right, there are so many dangers here on..." She'd caught herself, having almost said here on earth but changed in mid sentence finishing with "Here in these wilds."

As Sarah continued to pet the horse, Joanna went to her and Sarah's bags, extracting the bare minimum of necessities. She'd remembered that the doctor had a physicians bag with him, a smaller one than what Elijah had found on top of the coach. She pulled it out too.

"We might have use of these items." She offered to the Marshall, hoping that he'd not object to her desire to take them along with them in case they might be needed.

As an afterthought she added then "And please Marshall, if we are to travel together for the next few weeks, I'd prefer you to call me Joanna, or Jo would be fine. Truly, there is no need for such formalities."

Her soft lips parted into a genuine smile as her eyes moved from the Marshalls to the small child who was still content to rub the horse. Sarah brought a great deal of joy to Joanna. Never a day went by that Joanna wasn't glad that she'd made the decision to heal the girl rather than allow her to die, despite what she knew she would ultimately be giving up. As Joanna watched Sarah and Star, it seemed to her that the girls eyes lit up with an in-ordinary brightness. "hmmm" Joanna's thoughts turned inward at that point, she still almost positive that this child had inherited some blessed qualities when she'd been saved.

As Joanna picked and choose what was needed, Elijah took what he could to fill Star’s saddlebags, to make it as easy on all of them as he could. While he didn’t notice or comment on the reference of where the dangers were or how Jo had changed her mind before she completed the thought aloud, Elijah gave a nod about the medical supplies. He took what Jo thought best and, along with the back, attached that too to the growing number of items for Star to carry. Figuring between Elijah not riding and Sarah being the new rider, the new items probably made up some of that difference with a few extra items not being overly heavy for the horse.

As he was putting it on and she pondered formalities, Elijah too was watching Sarah and the horse. “I think he’s ready for you Sarah.” He actually had half a smile at the right side of his mouth when he said that, but then his face was business again even while he reached a hand down to help the girl mount the horse. If she could reach a stirrup, he’d let her try that, otherwise he would be using two hands to lift the girl from the ground all the way to the top of the saddle for her to get comfortable.

As he let her do that, he came back towards the woman. “Jo it is then, might as well settle on it now, we have time together. If it pleases you, Elijah or Lige works just as well, no need for the Marshall business. I find that not so comforting as I used to.” But he doesn’t explain why and instead, “So, anything else you need here, or we got enough to move out. We’re gonna get off the stage coach path here to hopefully avoid some trouble. There’s some hills further south that are long and flat on top, it’ll make travel easier and let us see further – help us spot trouble, or avoid it.”

As for Sarah on the horse, he gave her full reigns and let her have that control. Then again, Star was probably use to a few minor vocal commands from Elijah should the need really arise where he would need to help the girl. What didn’t fit into saddle bags or on the horse, he slung up over a shoulder, opposite his weapon and weapon hand. Looking at the sun, he indicated if all was in order, they should probably start walking. He hadn’t yet checked Joanna’s feet to see what sort of shoes she had on, but seemed more ready to just get on the road.

Sarah raced to Stars side, eager to attempt to mount the horse herself. From a distance Joanna watched, wanting to give the girl time to try it on her own as she knew Sarah to be a very determined young girl. Keeping an eye on her, she turned to also listen to Elijah.

She offered the Marshall a smile then, nodding her head. "Lige it is, then." She liked the way that it sounded when she said it, and something about using the more informal name somehow just felt right to her so she'd settled on it and that is what she would call him hence forth. And she was also glad that he'd settled on calling her Jo. Again, something about it seemed to feel right, like he'd known her for far longer than just a few moments when he spoke it, and besides that fact, the way that his voice sounded when he said it was smooth, and very comforting to her ears. Perhaps it was merely the fact that she'd not heard a man speak her name for so long, or just the fact that he said it so perfectly. Whatever the reason, it had pleased her greatly to hear him saying "Jo".

Her smile broadened as she saw Sarah finally get a good grip and swing herself up onto Stars back, her tiny melodic voice breaking the air around them.

"Mommy, mommy!" The girl exclaimed rather proudly "I did it!"

Joanna walked over to her and hugged her from her position on the ground by the horse's side.

"Yes you did sweetheart! Now remember, Stars not accustomed to you yet, so be sure to allow Lige to help you when it's needed. Promise Mommy?"

Sarah smiled, her pride at having mounted the horse more than still evident upon her face.

"I promise, Mommy! Thank you Mr. Marshall sir for letting me ride Star!"

It was Joanna's turn to beam with pride at the child remembering to mind her manners. Her emerald orbs seemed to sparkle as she turned back to the man who had come to their rescue.

"Please Lige, you have enough to carry and I'm able bodied. Won't you allow me to help you carry something?" She turned then in the direction Lige was looking, not the sun.

"We probably ought to get moving then if we're sure we are ready." Joanna stated matter of factually. She waited then for the tall dark stranger who was quickly becoming their friend to lead them onward on their journey.

Another smile crossed over Lige’s features, under the brim of his head, as Sarah mounted Star and then was thrilled with the simple completion of that act alone. Turning up as she said thanks, the sun dipped onto his chin and he remembered himself, letting the smile fade again. “Don’t mention it Sarah. Just don’t tickle him, he’ll rear up on ya.” Then he crossed his features a moment, unsure of why he used the word tickle. Star was well trained and indeed, tips of feet under the forelegs with a slight tug of reigns would cause him to rear up, not that he thought the girl could learn how to issue that command in the first place.

Still, as Jo offered, he shook his head, “You’ll need to conserve your strength Jo, we’ll be walking for days on end here. ‘is no trouble at all.” As if to settle that he nodded about moving when everything was ready and he jutted his chin back up the hill he came, once again indicating they should head off the man coach line towards the low table hills which should make for easy travel as well as give them some sight advantage as they travelled west.

With a hand he suggested Jo walk close to Star to keep the girl safe and, if she felt comfortable, to help with the reigns even though he retained confidence in his voice command of the large horse. Once under way, working up the loose slip to where he had ambushed the ambushers, then on towards those low hills, Elijah found himself focused on watching behind them, to the horizon in all directions, and up ahead along the way they were forging for signs of danger – both that danger from man as well as the wilds. He’s hate to miss a snake while watching for bandits or natives and have the horse buck Sarah. Not that Star would react that way, but no telling with the new company and best just to play it safe.

He kept a hand ready should Jo slip, he didn’t know why he felt so inclined but he kept himself ready to put an arm around her if needed and keep her moving. Then as he was walking and keeping his peace, his mind raced to ponder that he really hadn’t kept this close of company with a woman. This only served as a reminder that he was looking more at Jo than watching for danger. If she ever caught him looking, he would find himself started to look in her eyes for a few seconds then back to where his eyes should be.

Finally, when they reached those flat table tops and the going became easier, the sun moving from overhead into a lean towards dusk, his curiosity overtook him. “Jo,” he said, his mouth sounding dry as ever – not parched, just a hint of dry, “I’m not accustomed to seeing woman and child traveling this way alone. I don’t want to presume much, but perhaps friends and family await you out west?” Which is more to say he hopes they’re not simply traveling alone and trying to make their own way. Everything past the Missouri river seemed to be cut throat and everyman/woman for themselves and yet he couldn’t picture Jo and Sarah as part of that world.

Jo had managed to not slip and fall while they made the grade to safer ground but she'd noted that Lige had kept himself positioned to help her if the need should arise. She'd not argued with him when he said she'd need her strength as she had learned some time ago that human men could tend to be stubborn and Lige seemed to her to be of that kind. She had frowned however when his smile had left his face so quickly as she had found the short lived smile to be only add to how handsome the Marshall was.

A few times as Sarah laughed and giggled atop of Star, Jo had stolen glances Lige's way only to have caught him doing the same. She guessed it was a common enough of a thing for a man and woman to attempt to garner better looks at one another and suddenly she wished she wasn't covered in grime from their travels, but bathing hadn't been possible out in the wilds, let alone even keeping ones face very clean. What little water she had, she'd used to keep Sarah's face clean of grime and dust.

At his question she frowned. She had known it would be inevitable that the question would soon arise and she spoke, her own throat feeling very parched and her voice sounding uncommonly gritty "It's okay Lige. You do presume a bit much though, we do not travel to meet friends or family." She patted Sarah's leg as she talked "My daughter and I only seek to make a new life for ourselves." The moment Jo spoke the words she hated herself. It wasn't a total lie, but it wasn't a total truth either. She hadn't mentioned that she was not Sarah's real mother, and the matter of Sarah's father hadn't come up yet. Before Lige could ask she simply stated "Sarah's father was lost some years ago, when she was just a babe." Again, it was not a lie, Sarah's father had died. He simply hadn't been Jo's husband.

Jo fell silent then, her attentions turned toward Sarah who was still giggling and laughing, her bright spirit never waning in the least "See Mommy, he likes me!" she cooed loudly and Jo's attentions were turned to the girl on the horse, not watching her own footing and she felt her feet stumbling beneath her. She grabbed onto Lige to keep herself from falling, her hand steadying herself on his strong arm.

Immediately she removed her hand, a blush spreading across her face. "I'm sorry Lige, I didn't mean to almost make you fall to." She cast her eyes to the ground then. She was embarrassed. Her having fallen and possibly injured herself would have only slowed them down. "I'm sorry, so stupid of me. It won't happen again, I'll pay more attention." She truly was sorry, the last thing Lige needed was a wounded traveler traveling with them.