The wagon rattled through town and onto the open road. Quinlan sighed with relief. After the week at school, it felt good to be out of the classroom and away from the tension of the last few days. But today she had no idea where they were going. Will loaded down the back with supplies, which made her suspicious.

"When are you going to tell me where we're going?"

"You'll know soon enough," he said as they rolled across a low river crossing. In the fall, the water barely trickled across the road. Though it was September, the green leaves on the trees rustled and she wondered when they would begin to change. At home...no here with this man beside her was now home.

The wagon crested the bank, and she saw the chief sitting on a horse waiting for them. A quick glance at her husband confirmed her suspicions.

"Are we going to his village?"

Will grinned at her and her heart swelled. "Yes, Isatai graciously said we could visit after I told him you studied the tribes and were curious about how they lived."

Laying her hand on Will's arm. "Thank you. Reading about something and actually seeing how they live is so completely different. This makes me so happy."

What had she done to marry such a kind and gentle man? The back of the wagon was loaded, so they didn't arrive empty handed. The image of her father came to mind and a shiver of revulsion scurried up her spine.

As a little girl, her father talked bad about Indians. A course man with a vulgar tongue and her mother would later try to explain to her why he would become upset and reason with her his terrible behavior. 

All she knew was she wanted to understand both sides before she passed judgement. Yes, the Indians had done horrible things to white people, but the invaders were stealing their land, killing the buffalo and treating them like savages. Maybe not one side, but both sides had been wrong.

"Good morning," Will called. 

"Good morning. Follow me," the Indian said. Today he was dressed in leather pants and wore the traditional headdress. A crown of feathers with beads on a wide band and a small piece of fur on either side. The feathers flowed like a river down his back. Oh how she would’ve liked to have seen how it was made. 

They followed the chief strolling through the camp. "Why aren't they on a reservation?"

"The government keeps trying to move them, but so far, they have been able to stay here because of Pecos’s grandfather. Mr. Williams has given them permission to farm here. Pecos will one day inherit this property and the grandfather wants to make certain he receives the land."

"That's why Pecos is in school," Quinlan said, suddenly understanding more of the importance of her pupil's education. Determined more than ever to teach him all she understood, hoping he would seek higher learning.

The vehicle came to a halt and the children ran over to them. Isatai said something in his native language and they all stopped, babbling amongst themselves as they pointed to Quinlan and Will.

"Except for Mr. Joseph, Pecos’s grandfather, we don't have many visitors."

Will helped Quinlan alight and set her on the ground. A little girl reached out and fingered her dress, her tiny fingers rubbing the material.

"Cotton," Quinlan told the child. 

Isatai climbed from his mare and stood before them. "We're honored that Pecos’s teacher is here."

"Thank you for letting me learn from you about your way of life."

"Since the treaty, we've been fortunate that Mr. Joseph allows us to reside here or we would be required to be on a reservation. This way we're both close to my son."

Pecos stood by his father's side, smiling at her. She could tell he was pleased that she visited. As she gazed at the beautiful tepees, she couldn't wait to look inside. In days past, how exciting it must have been to travel by horseback across the plains, eating game and vegetables. 

"We brought supplies, we hope you can use," Will said. 

Isatai nodded. "Thank you. In honor of your visit, Topsanah is preparing us lunch. Come, let me show you our camp. In the olden days when I was a boy, this would not compare to our village."

They walked through the orderly encampment, at least twenty tepees stood tall reaching toward the sky. Isatai showed Quinlan and Will how they lived. In the center of the camp, they came to a large pit. "In the evenings, we sit around the fire and tell stories to the younger generation. It's important that the lives of their ancestors are not forgotten."

What did Quinlan know about her ancestors? Originally her mother came from Ireland and her father? Nothing was known of his family. What a gift to learn about the people who came before you and know that when you're gone, you will be remembered. That your story will be told around the fire.

They walked farther into the camp, Isatai leading the way. Finally they arrived at the biggest tepee. A beautiful dark-haired woman stepped outside and smiled at Quinlan. 

"This is Topsanah."

"Please, come inside."

This must be Isatai's new wife and Quinlan returned her smile. The woman led her through the open flap, where off to the side, blankets were stacked. In the center, a small fire burned. On it, a pot of something bubbling and Quinlan was excited to experience a Native American dish. 

Topsanah motioned for them to sit next to the fire and Isatai sank to the ground beside Quinlan. "Topsanah is a great cook. Enjoy."

The woman dipped the stew from the fire and handed each of them a wooden bowl, and then she handed, first Isatai then the others, a plate of what looked to be some vegetable coated in course powder. 

Quinlan took a bite and smiled. "Hmmmm. Is this green tomatoes fried in cornmeal?"

Isatai smiled at his wife. "Yes, Topsanah is from a Cherokee tribe. One of her favorite dishes is fried green tomatoes. We've been eating the last of the crop."

The stew, everything was very tasty as they sat on the ground covered in leather hides. 

"You came from back east?" Isatai asked Quinlan.

"Yes, I grew up in an orphanage," she said. "How do the Comanches handle children whose families are no longer together or the parents are killed?"

The man frowned. "It depends on the tribe. Our tribe made a decision that our children would never leave and go to a school. If both die, then either a family steps up and takes them in or if they're old enough, they learn to live on their own."

At seven, Quinlan would have had a hard time making it on her own. 

The chief rose and Will stood and offered Quinlan his hand to help her up from the ground. 

She nodded to Topsanah and said, "Thank you for the delicious meal."

The woman nodded, but Quinlan wasn't sure she understood. Walking into the warm sunshine, she realized it was time to go. What a wonderful morning learning about her student's tribe and family. 

Standing in front of the wagon, she turned to Isatai. "Thank you for allowing me to see how you live and for allowing me to teach your son. He's a bright young man with a great future ahead of him."

The leader bowed. "We are honored you came."

Will lifted Quinlan onto the hard seat and climbed in beside her. He touched the rim of his hat with his fingers as the team pulled away. Quinlan waved before she turned and smiled at her husband. "That was the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you."

Briefly he kissed her on the lips. "My pleasure. Now let's go home."

Later that evening, they sat outside the house in the porch swing, looking at the stars. Will couldn't remember a time since his brother's death he felt so happy. Riding into town, they had stopped and had dinner at a local diner and then hurried home.

"At the orphanage, we didn't have swings like this," she said, her thigh pressed against his leg. 

In the last few weeks, she'd grown more and more comfortable with him, not jumping every time he touched her, welcoming his kisses and curling up next to him at night. 

"Tell me about your brother," she said softly in the darkness. 

A ripple of shock spiraled through Will. What brought this on? Secrets still existed between them. Things she didn't know about him and he wondered if it was time to tell her. 

"How did you know about David?"

"Meg mentioned him in the dress shop. All she told me was he was killed on a fishing trip. Since I don't have any brothers or sisters, I would love to hear about yours," she said, placing her delicate hand on his thigh. 

Maybe he should tell her about David and how his death affected him to the point he wanted to kill anyone who committed injustice.

"School was over and we loved the outdoors. Fishing and camping were our favorite pastimes and Mother often complained we never stayed home. Every chance we had, we took off together." 

He sighed, his brother's laugh resounding in his head like it was only yesterday. "David and I snuck off one weekend to go fishing on the Brazos River located about a day's ride from here. The weather was perfect as we camped out, caught fish, and sat around laughing. Only eighteen months separated us."

Staring out into the black night, like a nightmare in slow motion, he remembered that fateful day. The final moments, the all-consuming rage of something so senseless gripped his insides twisting them into a painful knot. 

"Late that afternoon we stood on the bank fishing for the last time before we started home. The plan was to load up in the morning and return home with our catch. I needed to relieve myself, so I stepped away from the river and into the woods. It was then all hell broke loose."

As he ran his hand through his hair, could he convey to her the terror, the agony, even the guilt associated with living while his brother died?

"While I was in the bushes, I heard shots fired. Quickly, I crawled to the edge of the shrubs in time to see my brother reaching for his gun as they riddled his body with bullets, laughing all the while. 

“Later one of them told me it wasn't that David had done anything wrong, they were having fun. They rode up and wanted the fish and when he didn't hand the catch over quickly enough, he became the target of the day."

"What did you do?"

"The shooting lasted less than a minute but seemed like eternity as I lay on my stomach wanting to rescue my brother, but if I did, I would be their next victim. So I watched and waited. Once they had the fish, they left mocking the ‘stupid kid,’ they just murdered. Not knowing I had witnessed their grotesque act of violence.

"After they rode off, I ran to his side and held him. There was nothing I could do to save him." Choking on the memory, he paused, the ache in his chest gripping him like every time he recalled that day. The unbearable anguish that consumed him as he held his brother. "David died in my arms. But the outlaws’ faces were forever etched in my brain." 

After David's murder, he couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, and finally he did the only thing that probably saved his own life. In the middle of the night, he packed up his belongings and left. 

Quinlan picked up his hand and held it in hers, then laid her head on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry this happened to you. Your poor mother...how she must have suffered."

"Yes, they were ravaged with grief."

Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her against him, the beat of her heart next to his, comforting.

"Did they ever capture the men?"

Should he tell her he spent the next ten years of his life going after those outlaws, catching all but one of them and even now, Al still searched for Lee. Will wanted to capture that criminal, but after his near brush with death, the realization if he died, his mother would be heartbroken, sent him home.

Already having experienced the loss of one son, losing both, she would be beyond devastated.

"Two weeks after the funeral, I went in search of the gang that killed my brother. For the next ten years, I systematically captured all but one of the outlaws. Not one of them did I kill. Though at times, the urge was hard not to let them experience the piercing of a bullet the way David suffered." 

Now looking back, he gritted his teeth at the path life had chosen for him. With a sigh, he tried to relax as he told her his secret. "Instead, I collected the bounty on them and some of the men with them and made a small fortune."

"You were a bounty hunter," she exclaimed. "I knew it." 

Laying her head against him again, she relaxed holding him close. "Why didn't you catch the last one? After bringing all the others in, it seems odd you left one of them free."

Death, even near death, leaves one with a different perspective. Plus, he'd been gone from home for so long, he wanted to return, settle down, and have a normal life. 

"Six months ago, Al and I found him, but he almost killed me. Shot me up pretty bad. Left me for dead. Though I had been fired at before, it was then I realized how my mother would react to my death. After Al nursed me back to health, I came home."

Quinlan gasped. "Al is going after that man. That's why he came to visit to try to convince you to go with him."

"Yes," Will said. "And I'm worried about him."

Still, no word had been received from his friend. Lee Culver would do anything to remain free including murdering anyone who came after him. 

"Promise me you won't leave to go chasing after him again." 

When he married, he was ready for a different kind of life. One that didn't involve near death experiences and pursuing evil. Now he sought a quiet life and had no plans of being a bounty hunter again. 

Could he give Quinlan this promise he would never go hunting again? 

"No, I'm not going bounty hunting again," he said. 

"Thank you," she said. "Is what happened the reason you decided to marry?"

"In some ways yes. After being gone for ten years, the time had come to settle down and have a family. After all, I'm now the last Adams boy."

With her head on his chest, sitting there holding one another close, he fell more in love with Quinlan. Thank goodness, his mother ran the ad for a mail-order bride and Quinlan answered.

"Maybe it's time we started on our family," she said quietly. 

His heart skipped a beat as he leaned back and stared at her. "Are you sure."

"Yes, I think we've waited long enough."

The next morning, Quinlan woke beside her husband, curled around his naked body. They had made love well into the night and she'd never felt more at peace with her decision. Her husband was nothing like her father and she felt certain she'd made the right decision in marrying him.

In fact, after yesterday, she was certain she'd fallen in love with him. The man was kind, generous, and when he told her the story of his brother, her heart had shattered for him. The feelings of responsibility and hopelessness, she was well acquainted with. And yet there was nothing he could do to stop the men from murdering his brother. Just like she was unable to stop her father from killing her mother.

She felt his lips kissing the top of her head and she sighed. "Good morning."

"Good morning. We slept in this morning," he said, curling around her.

Last night she had never dreamed that being with this man could be so touching, so beautiful. After all, she had no preconceived ideas about what happened between a man and a woman. All she had ever witnessed was the painful relationship between her mother and father.

Life with Will was so very different.

"That's because we didn't sleep much last night," she said with a giggle.

He grinned. "My wife is such a wanton."

Heat flooded her face. "I didn't know."

He laughed out loud. "Honey, I'm teasing you. Last night was perfect."

Just then they heard pounding on the door. "Quinlan, Will are you two there?"

"It's your mother," she said, jumping naked out of the bed. "They're going to know what we were doing."

Will chuckled as he rose and put his pants on along with a shirt. "And she'll be so pleased we're working on those grandchildren she wants so badly."

"You can't tell her," Quinlan said, pulling on her chemise.

Why today did her in-laws decide to visit? Why this morning?

He shrugged. "I'm not going to say anything, but that delicious hint of pink on your cheeks is a definite sign."

Shaking her head at this man she was falling in love with, she grinned. "Go answer the door."

Her husband disappeared into the house while she finished dressing. A few minutes later, she went into the room where her in-laws sat waiting.

"Quinlan, honey, are you feeling all right?"

Oh no, his mother thought she'd remained in bed because of morning sickness. And now, there was the possibility she could be expecting and the thought made her smile. "No, I'm feeling fine."

There was no way she would tell her mother-in-law they had just started trying for a child. That was private between the two of them, but she couldn't help but sneak a glance at her husband who winked at her.

"Oh," she said clearly disappointed. "These things take time. You've been here over a month and I was so hoping by now you'd be expecting."

Had the woman expected her to jump into bed with her husband immediately? A man she didn't know?

"These things take time," she told her, not about to let the woman rush her into children.

"I just hope I didn't choose the wrong bride," her mother-in-law said.

What? What was the woman talking about? Will had chosen her to be his bride, not his mother.

"I'm sure Will is happy. I know I am," she said glancing at her husband who had a strange look on his face, like he was about to face a firing squad. "You did choose me? Right, Will?"

His mother laughed. "Oh no, dear. I'm the one who placed the ad that you answered. In fact, we had a whole pile of letters from women and I choose your letter, because after all the town needed a teacher."

Quinlan bristled, her heart aching at the betrayal she felt. Her mother-in-law had chosen her for her son. "Well, maybe I should have married you."

"Quinlan," Will said, but she turned and went into the kitchen to pour herself a cup of coffee.

He followed her into the kitchen. "Don't be upset."

"It's a little hard not to be. The man who is my husband, didn't even choose me for his wife. His mother did."

"Please don't take it as an insult. I didn't care at the time, now I do."

"Oh, and that's supposed to make me feel better. You didn't care who your mother chose as your wife."

"Quinlan," he said. "We promised each other that we would not let my mother come between us."

"That was before I knew she had picked me to be your wife." Just then there was another knock at the door. "What is the deal today? We never have company."

Quinlan didn't move from the kitchen as she made herself a cup of coffee, letting the hurt and betrayal wash over her. Was she crazy for being upset, but it hurt. She'd always loved the idea that Will chose her and now she'd learned his mother did.

"Sheriff," she heard Will say, "What brings you out..."

Suddenly she knew and she ran to her husband, fearing the worst.

Will stood before Zach, his hands covering his face as she watched him absorb the news.

"His body was found in Fort Worth, hanging outside of town with a bullet hole through his heart."

Will's face went white and she glanced at him, knowing this terrible man had now taken not only his brother, but his best friend as well.

At first, he didn't say anything, but then she could see the cold resolve come over him and she knew.

"No, Will," she said running to him, knowing that even though they were probably in the midst of their first fight, she didn't want him going after this outlaw.

"I have to," he said. "If I don't, he's going to get away with murder. And who is to say that he won't come after you or our children. I'm not going to risk him hurting anyone else I love."

What if Will was right? What if this man came after their children? Still, she didn't want him going alone.

"Let me go with you," she pleaded.

"No," he said in a voice she'd never heard before. "There would be too much risk."

His mother appeared at the door. "Dear, what are you talking about? I know you and Al were friends. But what does this man have to do with you?"

Will turned and gazed at his mother. "One of the outlaws that killed David. Last year, he almost killed me and now he's killed Al. He knows I turned in everyone in his band of outlaws and now I'm certain he's coming after me."