Marston topped over the small hill and sure enough there was a small homestead standing just where the fat and thin sisters had said that it would be. Instantly he realized he'd been wrong about these people being wealthy. The house was practically in ruins. The roof looked like it leaked, the shutters were crooked and falling off. The log wall of the rickety cabin had cracks that he knew must let in the rain and wind.

A small barn stood a few feet from the house and it wasn't in any better shape. As a matter of fact from up on this hill he could see a hole in the roof big enough to drop a horse through and it looked as if the horses had been chewing at the wooden walls.

A skinny horse was currently walking around inside the corral, though the corral fence was too run down to do much good at keeping the animal in if it really wanted out. The woodshed and smokehouse didn't appear to be in any better shape than the barn or house.

Marston was beginning to wonder if maybe the ladies had been wrong about Rose still living here when the front door of the cabin opened and a woman appeared, sweeping dirt from the house and off the porch. Marston found his eyes drawn to this woman as he wondered who she was.

She was younger than him, probably in her twenties and she had bright red hair that hung in curls down her back despite the clip she had used to secure it away from her face. He couldn't tell the details of her features from way up here but he could see that her skin looked like the finest of porcelain. She wasn't built like the skinny whores at most saloons. No, this woman was more filled out, just the way he liked them.

Maybe after he gave the old lady the money he'd hang around a couple of days. Shooting his worthless brother in the ass could wait until after he'd had some fun with this big boned red head. He started down the hill, leading the mare and the woman looked up at him and then ran into the house, closing the door behind her.

Marston sighed and again wondered just how ugly he had gotten. He had always been told by the ladies that he was good looking but things seemed to have changed since everyone ran away from him nowadays. He rode his horse up next to the porch and then jumped down. He helped himself to a sip of water from the pump well beside the house and then wiped his mouth on his shirt sleeve as he started up the steps.

"Stop right there." a feminine voice warned from inside and Marston did stop. Not because she told him to but because the rifle barrel sticking out of a small t-shaped hole in the door told him to. He held his hands up.

"I ain't looking for trouble." he assured her. He wondered if this was the red head from outside now holding him at gunpoint. He already could tell he liked looking at her and damn if she had spunk like this too than he knew he'd have to bed her before he could leave town.

"Then ride on out of here and back to where you came from." she said sternly. Marston pulled off his hat and scratched at his thick brown hair.

"I'd be more than happy to do that, ma'am, just as soon as I finish my business here."

"What business?"

"I'm looking for someone. I was sent here by Langston Howell." Silence reigned on the other side of the door for several long moments and then quite suddenly the gun was slid back away from the opening and the door was thrown open.

Marston found himself staring at a more beautiful woman than he had ever seen before. Dark red hair, snow white skin, light freckles across a small, slightly upturned nose and full cheeks. Red lashes framed wide blue eyes and her heart shaped lips were set in a firm line as she glared up at him with that gun still held in her hands. He had known her figure would be one he liked when he had seen her sweeping but up close it was even better.

She was average height for a woman, around five and a half feet and everything about her body was full and soft beneath her worn and faded tan gingham dress.

"Who are you looking for?" she asked.

"His wife, he said her name is Rose."

"I'm Rose." Marston stared at her in shock. This was the old mans wife? That man had been close to seventy years old if he'd been a day and this was a young woman! What would a woman like this see in a man as old as Langston? There was only one plausible explanation that Marston could come up with. This woman had been a whore, Langston had fallen for her and married her (as men sometimes did) and now he was dead and she was going to get all his money and run off to the next old man. Marston had heard about women like her. Predators that fed off of desperate men. He thought back to the one time he'd let himself trust a woman like that and had ended up horseless, moneyless and supply-less the next morning when he'd awoken to find her gone with everything he had.

"Well Rose, your husband is dead. Here's his prison release paper, here's his money and here's his horse." Marston said quickly. He shoved the paper into her hand, tossed the leather sack at her feet and then walked over to untie her horse from his.

"Dead....." she whispered in shock and Marston nodded as he looped the brown mares reins around the porch banister. He knew he wasn't being friendly right now. As a matter of fact he was being downright rude, the one thing he never was, but if there was one thing he couldn't stand it was a woman with an agenda. And any young, beautiful woman who marries an old man has an agenda.

"How... How did he die?" He looked up at her to see her gripping the porch banister for support. Her face was even more pale and her knuckles were bright white as she held tightly to the rough wood.

"Shot in the chest looked like to me. He was on his way back here when I found him and asked me to bring you his things. I've done that now so I'll be on my way." Marston was about to jump on his horse when the unmistakable sound of tears reached his ears. He peeked a look at her from the corner of his eye and frowned.

If she was a whore she was doing a damn good job at acting like a devastated wife. As a matter of fact it looked like she was going to....

"Oh dear." Marston grumbled and he moved quickly and caught the woman under the arms as she lost consciousness and collapsed against him. Her head had fallen back and he stared at the creamy skin of her exposed neck. She had a mole above her collarbone and he found himself wondering what she would taste like.... He was about to find out when an angry young voice called out from behind him.

"Hey! What are you doing to my mama!" Marston looked over his shoulder to see a young boy who looked to be around ten years old running out of the woods.

"Nothing." Marston grumbled as he suddenly felt like a child with his hand caught in the cookie jar. "She's sick. Help me get her inside." The boy looked at him with fearful blue eyes but finally nodded and ran up onto the porch, his red hair flashing in the sunlight. Marston carried the woman into the cabin, dragging her legs along the floor.

The boy led him to a small sofa and Marston laid Rose down on it before standing straight and looking around.

The inside was neat and tidy but run down as well. This sofa needed new upholstery, the scarred kitchen table needed to be sanded down and the cupboard doors were hanging crooked. Everything just looked old and as if it had lacked basic care for a long time... Ten years to be exact.

"Who are you?" the boy asked. "What's your name?" Marston crouched down so he'd be on the short boys level and offered a smile.

"Not many people dare to ask me that." he replied and the boy swallowed hard and sent a fearful glance at his mother.

"Is she going to be okay?"

"She'll be fine." Marston promised. "And my name's Marston." Marston walked out of the house, he couldn't leave until the woman woke up and he knew she was alright. He wasn't sure why he couldn't leave, it's just that when he thought about doing so his boots quit working and he couldn't take a single step toward his horse.

He sat down on the porch step and rolled his eyes when he realized the boy had followed him. The boy sat down on the step next to him and looked at the revolver on his hip.

"Are you gonna hurt us?" he asked and Marston looked at the boy with a mixture of disbelief and shock. The boy seemed awful calm to be asking a question like that. The thought of hurting these people hadn't occurred to him. Marston wasn't the type to hurt women and children for no reason. But he sure would like to lay with that Rose but Marston wasn't the type to force a woman. He'll, he'd never had to. Women tended to like his attention just fine.

He could honestly say he had no intention of hurting either one of them.

"No." he replied simply. The boy nodded and then looked at the gray.

"I like your horse."

"Me too."

"My daddy is on his way home. Mama said that once he gets here he'll help us get this place fixed back up. It's just been me and mama since I was born and she just can't fix stuff the way a man could." Marston nodded as he stared into the woods.

So the man eating she devil hadn't replaced her husband once he was gone to jail? That didn't exactly fit the image but then again you never could predict what a woman would do.

"I like your gun. It's real shiny and nice. My pa left me a gun but it's so rusted you can't hardly use the thing. Not that mama would ever let me use it. She's pretty strict about that kind of stuff. Sometimes though she has to get out pas rifle, just like she did today. What did you come here for anyway? Do you know my pa? And why is my mama sick now? Does it have something to do with you? Are you a bad man? You look kind of like a bad man." Marston felt a throbbing pulse beginning behind his left temple.

"You talk a lot." he mumbled and the boy gave him a big toothed grin.

"I don't usually have no one but mama to talk to. We don't get a lot of company out here. The women in town don't much like to come speak to mama. I'm not sure why. My mama is a real nice woman. The nicest one I know as a matter of fact." he replied. Marston picked at a rip in the knee of his denims and let out a long breath as the throbbing picked up tempo.

"How about we play a game?" he asked and the boy nodded.

"Sure, what kind of game? I like games but I don't normally get to play them because I'm too busy working 'round here. What kind of game did you have in mind for us to play?"

"This game is called shut up and stare into the woods. Whoever does it the longest doesn't get hog tied, gagged and thrown on the couch with his mother." The boys blue eyes widened and he swallowed hard as he nodded and began to stare at the trees. Marston was chuckling as he too turned his attention back to the forest.

888

Marston had to admit that the boy impressed him. Even after an hour of staring into the woods the boy had yet to move or make so much as a peep. Marston wondered when the woman was going to wake up so he could leave.

He looked down at the boy when he heard his tiny stomach rumbling. The boy grabbed his stomach and made a face but said nothing and didn't look away from the trees.

"Are you hungry?" Marston asked.

"HA! You lost!" the boy exclaimed with laughter but one look at the stern expression on Marston's face had the boys laughter dying on his lips. "Yes, sir, I'm hungry." he replied.

"Does your mama have taters anywhere? I'm afraid that's about all I know how to make."

"You're gonna cook for me?" the boy asked wide-eyed and Marston stood and shrugged.

"Would you rather starve?"

"No sir." the boy replied jumping to his feet as well. Marston rolled his eyes and followed him into the house. Rose was still lying on the couch and Marston wondered if she was okay. He'd known of women swooning and passing out but it didn't normally last this long.

"The potatoes are in this box. I guess that's what taters are, right?" the boy asked as he pointed at a wooden box in the corner of the kitchen. The kitchen, dining area and sitting room were all just one big room inside the cabin. There were three closed doors. One off the side of the kitchen and two off the sitting room. He assumed those were probably bedrooms.

"Yeah, kid, that's what taters are."

"My name's Langston junior but mama always calls me Langly. I guess you can too if you want to."

"How bout I just call you kid." Marston replied as he opened the tater box and gathered an armful of them. He laid them on the counter, growling when a few of them rolled away and bounced across the kitchen floor. He could Langly struggling to stifle his laughter. Why the hell was Marston bothering with cooking for this damn kid? He guessed it was because he knew what it felt like to be a hungry ten year old with no one around to take care of him.

Marston looked around the kitchen and then raised a brow when he saw the sink with faucets.

"Y'all got running water in here?" he asked, knowing that mostly it was only the rich that had such things.

"Yes." Langly replied as he gathered up the runaway potatoes. "Papa installed it to make things easier on mama. We even got a water closet where we can take showers. The dirty water goes out some pipes and flows back into the river which is where the clean water comes from to begin with. We still gotta use the outhouse though. I can't wait 'til they figure out a way for us to do that in the house too. The other night I went out to use the outhouse and almost got ate up by a big old bear! It was scary."

"Probably made using the outhouse easier." Marston replied with a smile as he slid the bowie knife from the sheath on his leg and went about peeling the taters he'd gathered.

"That's a big knife! What in the world do you use a big knife like that for?" Langly exclaimed wide-eyed. Marston shrugged.

"Some men got big bodies." he replied and he fought back a laugh when he saw the boys face pale.

"I'll go on out to the cellar and get us some peppers to eat with the potatoes." Langly said quickly and then he dashed from the house. Marston let out a sigh of relief as he was sure he heard his ears thank him. He'd never known anyone that talked as much as that damned boy.