Double update Sunday!! Just because my surgery went well and recovery is moving along, I want to spread the joy!

The dark glass was cool against my fingers. Uncertain but obedient, I swallowed the potion in one gulp. Instantly gagging, I coughed as the bitter taste burned down my throat. Eyes watering, I coughed again, feeling strangely dizzy. Suddenly faint, slightly sick, I lay back, panting.

Jinx had scrubbed his hands, boiled some instruments that he had pulled out of his saddle bag. Coming over to stand over me, he adjusted the blankets padding the table. A pillow was under my head, two under my leg.

"Remember, Miss Stone, you will feel pain. Probably a good deal more than what's good for you, but we can't do anything about that. If it becomes too much, let me know and we'll take a break, but try not to. The faster this goes, the better. We'll start with your cheek and go from there. Are you ready?"

Frank's hand was gripped in mine, and he squeezed it comfortingly. Licking my lips, I managed an audible answer.

"I'm ready,"

I couldn't watch Jinx do it, closing my eyes. The sharp pierce of the needle through flesh made me stiffen in pain, gasping. To my credit, I didn't move. It got worse and I was sweating by the time he had put eight stitches in my face. Shaking, tears streaming from my eyes, soft sobs escaped quivering lips. His look was encouraging.

"Halfway there, Miss Stone, you hang in tight. You're doin' just fine."

Halfway? I wanted to scream, but forced myself to lay still, breathing. Frank's hand held mine tight. No one spoke a word through the final stitching, and I was not the only one sweating. I have come to learn that a western man, a good one despite his occupation, cares a great deal for decent women.

They will pace the floor with expectant fathers, mourn over lost wives, mothers, and sisters, and hang a man who abuses a total stranger. So now, as I lay in pain, gasping and crying, every man in the room but Jinx suffered with me, anxious for my comfort.

"Okay, all done with that part," when he stepped back I sucked in a deep breath, heart hammering against my ribs.

"How you doin', honey?" Frank dabbed a soft cloth at my forehead and neck, his eyes worried. This had been nothing compared to what lay ahead I knew, and I tried to smile.

"I'm well, Frank, I'm well. How's it look?" My voice shook but I refused to falter. It was too late to go back.

"Pretty as a picket fence." Frank responded tenderly.

After washing his hands, Jinx came back with a new bottle of opium.

"I don't believe in over medicating as a rule, but you felt more than I anticipated. This is going to be much worse."

"How much worse?"

"Let's strike while the iron's hot, ma'am, drink up."

I swallowed the liquid, again coughing and gagging, the brew no more pleasant or tolerable than the last time. The room spun, leaving me heavy and weightless at the same time. In a bleary dream I saw Jinx pick up a gleaming silver blade, standing over my leg. He signaled one of his companions forward. My breathing was loud in my ears.

"Hold it just like I showed you, no matter what don't let that leg go, you hear me?"

"I'll hold 'er still, just do what you gotta do," came the firm reply. Jinx glanced down at me his eyes serious.

"Scream if you must, but don't move."

Frank offered me a flat section of wood, smooth and about six inches long, and two fingers wide.

"Put it in your mouth, over your tongue, an' bite down. No matter what, don't let it go." He tried to smile reassuringly, but we were both scared. "I'll be right here, the whole time."

Head spinning, I felt out of focus from the opium, only dizzily aware of what was happening. Something cold touched my leg, spreading over my shin and along the outside of my calf. Jinx was cleaning the area with whiskey on a fresh cloth. They would want the skin clean to reduce infection. Sliding my gaze to Frank, panting with fear, the wood was clutched tightly between my teeth. I didn't want to think about what was coming. I wanted to run but there was nowhere to go. Seeing my terror, he leaned in close, blocking everything from my vision but his face.

"You remember what Judd told you that first day we found you out on the trail? He said 'You ain't alone now, me an' the boys'll look to you for a bit', you remember that?"

I nodded slightly, my throat tight and dry.

"That still holds true, Lilli girl, you ain't alone. Me an' these boys, we'll look after you. Don't you fret. Just sit tight, and stay real still."

All at once I felt it, a sharp slice of heat down my leg and I jerked involuntarily. Locking my muscles, I tried to avoid moving. Just when I got to thinking that wasn't so bad, the real pain hit. Layers of muscle were cut into and pulled apart. Straining against the hands holding me down, I started screaming.

~~~

"Miss Lilli," a gentle hand on my shoulder stirred me from unconsciousness. "Miss Lilli, can you hear me?"

I tried to force my eyes open, tried to think, but all I could feel was a terrible agony throbbing in my leg. Groaning, unable to form coherent words, my lids were too heavy to open. The rim of a cup touched my mouth, cool water brushing against my lips.

"It's water, ma'am, try to swallow a little,"

It was dribbled into my mouth, but I couldn't get my throat to work. Choking, I spit the water out, gasping raggedly. The movement sent sparks of fire along my shin. The soft cry was rough on my sore throat. In the darkness beyond my closed eyes, low voices were murmuring, and I felt slightly comforted. I wasn't alone. All I had to do was sleep, but those voices would not let me.

"Lilli, Lilli girl, open your eyes," it sounded like Frank but I didn't want to wake. I didn't want to face the pain that waited for me awake.

A firm hand gripped my good shoulder and shook me.

"Wake up, Lilli!"

Like sun cutting through a heavy fog that voice cut straight to my heart. I struggled to open my eyes. He was here, he'd come! At last I got a crack of daylight, and the world blurred, shifting as I tried to focus. Two objects were stationary, right at my side. One I knew was Frank Gin, for I could feel his firm leathery hand on my fingers. The other slowly came into focus as I blinked rapidly.

"Cooper?" my voice was rough and hoarse, barely a whisper. He smiled that warm, easy smile and leaned forward, gently kissing my brow.

"What have you gone and done to yourself? Woman, you look a sight," he said softly.

"Cooper, they would've taken me, I had to fight back-" my wispy voice cut out abruptly. I choked on the dryness of my mouth.

Paper crinkled, followed by the strong smell of sugary mint as a hard candy was pushed past my lips. Like a sudden flood, moisture softened my palate. Able to swallow, my throat loosened. Soon I was able to take some water and that made me feel stronger. Easing up on my pillows I looked fully around the room for the first time.

It was full of men. Six to be exact, counting Frank, Ross and his men, and Cooper. Their faces were filled with relief, as though they'd been holding their breath for a very long time.

"What's the occasion?" I tried to smile a little, the stitches pulling slightly. They all visibly relaxed.

"We thought we done lost you, ma'am, back on the table." Jinx came forward with the water pitcher to refill my glass. "I'm relieved to see your eyes open. This gent here has been breathin' murder for the last two days."

"Two days?" Could that be right?

"You gave us a scare, Lilli," Frank spoke up. "After you passed out, Jinx had a time stoppin' the bleedin', and you was so pale and cold. Then this here fella shows up and seen you laid out and bloody. He all but shoots the house down before we can get a hold of 'im."

Looking back to Cooper, I lifted my fingers toward him, as I did not have the strength to lift my hand. He immediately took my fingers in his. Smiling into those gray eyes, I was so relieved and happy, despite the pain. I knew he'd come back.

"Frank, would you and these gentlemen be good enough to give us a moment alone?" My gaze didn't waver from gray eyes. "I've something I want to discuss with Mister Todd,"

There was a soft chuckle and a few knowing looks as they filed from the room. Frank closed the door behind him, after giving Cooper a stern look. Sitting on the bed at my side, he leaned over me, pressing his lips against my brow for a long moment.

"You've no idea how worried I've been," he said quietly.

"Yes I do," I looked into his eyes, serious. "Where have you been? What happened to you?"

"I went to buy supplies, but I got stupid, wanted a drink, and got suckered into a tinhorn's trap. Got myself setup and knocked down, pinned a murderer nice and neat."

"What? You killed someone?" the idea was not new, but murder?

"I was set up, Lilli, those folks in town had it out for me, and I broke jail when I found out they wanted a necktie party. I grabbed my horses and lit out, didn't dare come back here right off, was worried they'd follow me. I was on the run for a long spell, tryin' to circle back to you, but I got cut off every time, and ended up pushed farther and farther south.

"It was some trouble, but I thank the stars I ran into some Bannock braves scalp hunting. Took the posse off my tail, but I almost lost my hair a time or three. I lost your mare. I'm sorry."

"Oh," instinctively I didn't say anything about Ranse. "She found her way back. That's why I'd been so worried."

After a pause he dug into his pocket. "That reminds me, I run into a mail carrier he had this letter for you, and since I was headed this way, I relieved him of it."

"Open it Coop, I don't have the strength." I was distracted, my mind busy with the idea of a murder posse on Coop's trail. Self-defense was one thing, but murder? It didn't sit well, despite what I told myself.

When he opened the letter I read it slowly, a smile forming on my lips. It was from Joss. I re-read it aloud for Coop to hear, glad that my brother thought to write now and then. He and Mead were known as hired guns now, and were in high demand according to Joss. There was always someone wanting men good with their guns, and they often sided with big ranchers in cattle wars.

I had no opinion on that, but as long as he was safe, I was glad for him. He'd been braced three times, Joss wrote, and helped to bury them all. He sounded proud of that, and I worried. Setting the letter aside with a frown, I glanced at Coop.

"Everything okay?"

"I'm not sure...he's...what he's doing is so dangerous, and he said he'd come back here, that he'd settled down nearby, but,"

"Some men get addicted to the reputation," Coop offered cautiously. "It's hard to give up the feelin' of men steppin' outta your way."

"Can we talk about something else?"

"Sure." His grin was willing.

"I missed you so much," it was the softest whisper, in case eager ears were listening.

Grinning wider, he leaned closer.

"I missed you too,"

"Will you kiss me, Cooper?"

"If you ask me to," he whispered back and I giggled a little.

"I just did,"

Cooper closed the gap between us. Heat pooled in my belly as our lips met, and I smiled against his mouth. Kissing me harder, his fingers pillowed into my hair. It wasn't anything like Ranse's, but I liked it. When we parted he looked down at me with tenderness that I had missed in the months he'd been gone. I felt protected, relieved that I wouldn't have to be so alert all the time. He'd stay, and the trouble that came would be faced together.

"Are we still set for spring?" he mumbled, kissing my jawline. Giggling, I nodded.

"So long as you don't go in saloons alone anymore," I teased, but he pulled away.

"They may come for me, Lilli, I can't see those boys bein' ones to give up."

"Let them come," I answered. "We can defend the valley without too much trouble, and they'll not get you away from me, not again."

"We might have to run for it. You know that, don't you?"

I felt unwelcome twinges of doubt and frowned slightly.

"What happened exactly, Cooper? Who was this man who died?"

So he told me, from the beginning.

When Cooper Todd was born, it was not to infancy in the loving arms of parents, in a ranch or farmhouse somewhere, but to the harsh open desert in Mexico. Nor was this new life an infant, helpless and needing care, but fully grown and skilled in the use of guns, accustomed to war. He was capable and deadly, the balance of his life often decided on the hair trigger of his actions.

He'd been a Sergeant in the American army following the Texas annexation from Mexico in 1835. Santa Anna called for a nationwide disarmament of state militias. Colonel Domingo Ugartechea ordered the Texans to return a cannon given to them by Mexico that was in Gonzales. The Texans bluntly refused. Lieutenant Francisco de Castañeda and one hundred dragoons were ordered to retrieve it.When he arrived at the rain-swollen banks of the Guadalupe River near Gonzales, there were only eighteen Texans to oppose him.

Unable to cross the flooded river, Castañeda made camp while the Texans buried the cannon, calling for volunteers to join them. Stalling for several days gave reinforcements time to arrive, and early on October 2nd, they attacked. The battle ended with the Mexicans withdrawing. More and more recruits for the Texan army gathered at Gonzales.

On October 10th, the Texans stormed the presidio. It lasted a bloody thirty minutes, the Mexicans again withdrawing. Word spread to other garrisons that the Texans were coming. Soldiers flooded into Fort Lipantitlán, near San Patricio. I recalled then that Fort Lipantitlan was where Ranse had been taken when his mother escaped the Apache. Had he been there?

Despite their early victories, when the Mexican Army arrived in San Antonio in February of 1836, the Texan garrison caught completely unprepared. It was a mad dash to gather food from the town to supply the Alamo. By late that afternoon, Bexar was occupied by fifteen hundred Mexican troops, who quickly raised a blood-red flag signifying no quarter.

For the next thirteen days, the Mexican army besieged the Alamo. Several small skirmishes gave defenders much needed optimism, but it was short lived.

Early on March 6th, the Mexican army attacked the fort in a violent, no quarter onslaught. Almost all of the Texan soldiers, estimated at over two hundred men, were killed. Among them were James Bowie, Davy Crockett and William B. Travis. Over four hundred Mexicans were killed or wounded during the fighting. Cooper had become fed up by what seemed senseless bloodshed that he became embittered and disillusioned.

He'd stayed in Mexico, living in a poor village whose people didn't care what wars were fought, as long as they had food to feed their children. The man who later became Cooper Todd was sick of warfare, sick of violence and killing, and sought peaceful redemption among the small village. For months life was quiet, and he began to feel peace, then the inescapable happened.

I could tell Cooper didn't want to keep going, but he told me what followed.