Daniel Torry had Drum draw out a map of the back way in. He claimed if he ever went in again with his old man, he wanted an exit if things turned bad.

Drum found it strange that the Rangers talked to him now. He wasn't used to being included, and for the most part, he found it bothersome. The only peace he seemed to have was at night after everyone turned in. He'd slip from his bedroll and move far beyond the firelight. In the stillness, he'd take a deep breath and try to remember the exact way Sage's hair smelled or how she'd tasted when he'd kissed her. He'd never missed anyone in his life, but he missed her all the way to his soul. She was a part of him; she had been since the first time he saw her.

The world had always been dark and dangerous for him. Even staying alive before he grew to be a man seemed sometimes a waste of effort. She didn't just offer light, she made him want to be a better man. He thought of all the things in his life that he'd done because of her, and she wouldn't ever know about most of them.

Drum smiled in the darkness. He'd even talked Mrs. Dickerson into teaching him to read one winter, and he'd spent a day in a fancy hotel dining room watching people eat so he wouldn't embarrass her if the McMurrays did ever invite him to Sunday dinner. He bought his clothes tailor made and his boots were custom. It seemed like everything he did, he wondered what she'd think about it or if she'd even care.

He'd wait until almost dawn, then go back to bed.

One night. Daniel rolled over when he returned. "I figure you must be part wolf or coyote, Roak. You hunt at night while the rest of us sleep."

"You're drunk." Roak mumbled. "Go back to sleep."

Daniel didn't argue with the diagnosis. "Not drunk enough." he said as he took another long draw on a flask. "I still remember where I am”

"Where are you?" Drum asked, just to pester his friend.

"I'm wandering around trying to get myself killed. That's were I am." He grinned. "It's my absolute favorite thing in the whole world to do”

Drum laughed. "I don't know which one of us is crazy, you for trying to get yourself killed so you'll die a hero or me for going along with you just so I can spoil your plan”

"I'll drink to that," Daniel answered. "At least I'm not mooning over a woman."

"What makes you say that?"

Daniel snorted. "You're crazy about that little doc. I seen it the first day. But you're going about it all wrong."

"I am”

"Sure. If you want a woman to like you, you got to act like you're not interested in her. The minute you turn away, they run toward you."

Drum knew that would be impossible. "You have experience at this?"

"Sure. I'm always acting like I don't much like the girls I meet. My problem is they all return the favor and act like they don't like me. If I ever find one willing to come after me, I'll toss the whiskey and run just long enough for her to catch me” He was silent for a while, then he asked, "Did you ever wonder what it'd be like to live with a woman, day after day? Sleeping with her every night through the seasons? Talking to her about important stuff and about nothing at all? Having a woman worry if you ate enough and dust you off like she was proud to be with you?"

Drum knew without asking that Daniel was like him; he'd never had a woman care about him. "I've wondered,” he said.

Daniel laughed. "I'm wild as a mustang, but I tell you, if a woman ever roped me, I don't think I'd mind being corralled” He took another drink, and neither of them said anything else. They were both lost in their own thoughts.

Drum offered Daniel no sympathy the next morning when he had to dunk his head in the stream to clear it enough to ride. Daniel was one of the best Rangers, levelheaded and dependable in a fight, but like half the troop, he medicated his fear with whiskey from time to time. Drum never asked him about his past, but he'd heard the captain tell someone once that he'd lost his mother and sister in a fire over near Victoria when he'd been about four or five. His old man hadn't slept beneath a roof since. By the time Daniel was old enough to join the Rangers, he'd rattled around most of the state with his father selling whiskey on weekdays and preaching on Sundays. For him, being out on the land was the only home he could probably remember.

Drum offered Daniel a towel when he walked from the stream with his brown hair dripping. "You might want to think about drinking a little less at night” he said.

Daniel nodded, then moaned. "I think about it every morning. Trouble is, once I start drinking, I stop thinking.”

Drum laughed as he watched two Rangers riding in hard from the direction of the opening to Skull Alley. One led a horse with the rider bound and blindfolded.

The lead man pulled ahead and yelled, "Cap, we caught one of Hanover's guards riding out alone.”

All the men in camp gathered round as the Ranger swung off his horse. "He gave up without too much of a fight”

Everyone watched the other Ranger pull the prisoner off his horse and remove the blindfold. In a heartbeat Drum recognized the outlaw as the one who'd brought Sage into the saloon and looped the rope, tied around her neck, over a beam so she'd choke if she didn't stand up straight and still for the auction.

Anger boiled in every part of his body as Roak moved blindly toward his guns hanging over his saddle.

Daniel slapped a hand against his chest and warned him to stop.

"You know who he is” Drum hissed.

"I know, and I want to kill him only slightly less than you do right now."

Daniel held him back while Drum swore. He knew Daniel was right, but that didn't make standing still any easier.

"Roak, calm down. Let the captain have his say; then I'll help you string the bastard up."

Captain Harmon walked past Drum as if he didn't hear his newest Ranger threatening to kill the prisoner slowly and painfully. "I'll have your name” he shouted over Roak's swearing.

"Luther Waddell." The big man stood up straight, chest out, like a prisoner expecting a bullet any moment and refusing to beg for his life.

The captain studied him. "Want to tell me what your business is? And don't try to lie. I got two men here who saw you in the count's hideout, and one of them is mighty anxious to kill you” He glanced in Drum's direction. There were two Rangers holding him back now.

Luther measured Drum. "If I tell you what I'm doing, I want your word that you won't let that fellow decide my fate. I don't much mind dying, but he's promising I'll beg for death before he's through, and I can see in his eyes he's not bluffing.”

Captain Harmon nodded. "Agreed, but only if you're honest. I can smell a lie”

Luther turned to Drum and yelled, "I figured she might be your lady that night in the saloon. Ain't never seen a man pay two hundred dollars for a night. Except she didn't look too happy to be climbing the stairs with you. I still thought she'd be safer with you than with most of the other men wanting her."

Drum stopped swearing and began listening.

"I know you don't believe it, but I tried to help the little doctor. I locked her in a cell at night so none of the men could get to her. I clubbed the man who bruised her face, just for the hell of it. But you should know she weren't hurt none while she was in camp. I saw to that. The night of the auction, if I hadn't tied her up to the rafter, the men would have pawed her and passed her around. I've seen it before.”

Drum didn't buy a word the outlaw said. "You're a talking dead man," he whispered loud enough that the stranger heard.

Captain Harmon paced restlessly. "So, if you're one of the count's personal guards, what are you doing outside the hideout?"

"Hanover trusts me. He's got my wife and son to ensure I come back."

Drum stilled. Daniel removed his grip as they both listened. Neither of them liked the idea of a child being in the camp. They both knew firsthand what he'd face.

"The count's got a fever. He thinks he's dying. He's so weak he's messing himself like a baby. He's got it in his head that the only one who can help him is the little doctor. I'm on my way to get her. If you kill me, he'll just send someone else until he gets her back. To him, she's his property.”

The captain raised an eyebrow. "Why are you telling us this?" The man was writing his own obituary.

Luther looked directly at Roak. "Your woman asked me to help her escape, and I didn't. I was worried about my family first, and second, I didn't think he'd mistreat her. I figured the worst he'd do was keep her in camp as the doctor, but I underestimated his hatred of women. She'd be dead today if you hadn't come for her, and my wife's not safe, even if I do what he tells me”

"But you were heading to find Sage and drag her back," Drum shouted.

"No." Luther shook his head. "I was going to warn her to get as far away as she could. Then I planned to go back and tell the count I couldn't find her. If I'm lucky, he'll be dead or feeling better and deciding he doesn't need the doctor. At worst, he'd still be crazy with pain and have me killed.” He looked straight at Drum. "I don't care anymore. The only reason I've gone on as long as I have is for my wife and boy, but my boy is sickly, and my wife cries all the time.”

Drum almost felt sorry for the man. Almost.

Captain Harmon motioned for them to untie Luther, then he offered him a cup of coffee. The man would have been a fool to reach for a gun; a dozen bullets would hit him before he could clear leather.

"Do you know of a way into the hideout besides the slow ride through Skull Alley?"

Luther held the cup with both hands. "No. If I did, I'd bring my family out. That narrow canyon keeps everyone in line. I've seen a few men try to run it on horseback. They started at night and made it past the first checkpoint, but by daylight the second guard picked them off as easy as shooting fish in a bucket. One man who tried to make it traveling only on foot got lost and ended up coming right back to camp, where Hanover had him hanged."