The next morning, Mallory gathered her things. She kept her book out, just in case she needed a distraction, and she was about to leave her room to go down for breakfast when she heard Mrs. Cooper's boisterous voice coming down the hall. Her hand froze on the doorknob and she leaned her ear against the door to listen, waiting until she was certain the woman had at least reached the lobby before she dared step out of her room.

"Good morning," Mallory said, walking up to the desk and setting her key down.

"How was your room, Miss?"

"It was lovely, thank you." she replied.

"Wonderful. Breakfast is available now, and if you'd like to set your bag by the door there, the driver will load it up for you while you're eating."

"That's very nice of him, thank you," she replied.

"Have a lovely trip," the woman smiled.

She nodded with a smile, though she couldn't imagine her trip being anything close to lovely, and reached down to pick up her carpet bag. It was then that she realized there was someone standing behind her and she stifled a gasp as she straightened up, seeing that it was the fourth passenger. She gave a polite nod, despite the pounding in her chest and carried her bag to the door. She left it next to Mrs. Cooper's luggage and hurried into the dining room where she found a small table where she could sit by herself and eat in peace.

"Mind if I join you?" a deep voice asked a moment later and she looked up to see him again. She had noticed that the dining room was pretty full, and she couldn't blame him for not wanting to share a table with their traveling companions. "No, I don't mind." she said, managing to keep her voice level.

He took off his hat and pulled out the chair across from her. "I'm Nick Warren," he said.

"It's nice to meet you," she replied. "I'm Mallory Quinn."

"It's a pleasure, Miss Quinn," he smiled.

There were menus on the table and a waitress came shortly after to take their orders. It wasn't long before she returned with two steaming plates of food.

Mallory placed her napkin across her lap. "Are you traveling all the way to the end of the line?" she asked.

"Yes. To San Fransisco. You?"

She nodded. "I believe our traveling companions are on their way to Salem, so at some point they'll have to switch coaches and head north."

"I suppose that means only the last leg of our journey is going to be a quiet one then," he smiled.

Mallory laughed softly. "I think you're probably right. You don't seem thrilled at having to travel this way. I hope you're not going to San Fransisco for anything bad."

"Well, I wasn't planning on taking the stagecoach," he said. "I had my horse. A fine horse, too. Unfortunately, just before I joined you and your companions, I had to shoot my horse because he stepped in a gopher hole and snapped his leg."

She looked horrified. "Oh, I'm so sorry!"

"Well, I suppose I'll replace him eventually," he replied. "But there wasn't time. I have to be in San Fransisco by the first of next month. My brother is getting married and insists that I be there."

"I see." she replied. "He's very excited then?"

"He spoke of nothing else in his letter," he chuckled softly. "She must be something pretty special."

"I suppose there are plenty of men in San Fransisco, and all of California and Oregon, really, that are getting married these days." she said softly.

He shrugged. "I suppose so. I was surprised to read in the newspaper that it costs three hundred dollars to get one of the Mercer girls."

Mallory's eyes grew wide. She had read about Asa Mercer, providing women as mail order brides, but had never realized how much he charged. "Three hundred dollars?" she was amazed. But then she remembered that although she wasn't a 'Mercer girl' she was traveling for the same reason. She wondered if Ms. Desmond had accepted any money, then had a moment of clarity. Of course she had. And Mr. Howard had been in on it too. There was no way Ms. Desmond would have given her fifty dollars out of the goodness of her black heart.

"It's a lot of money," he said. "I suppose though, for the men who receive wives, they might think it's worth it."

She shook her head.

"You don't approve of it?" he asked.

"I don't understand why a woman would ever agree to such a thing," she said softly. "Perhaps desperation? I don't know."

"That might be," he replied.

They quietly finished their breakfast before heading out to the stagecoach where they were just loading up the luggage. Mr. Lewis and Mrs. Cooper had already boarded and moved to the far side when they walked up. Mr. Warren offered her a hand and she sat beside Mrs. Cooper.

"Well, a good morning to you two!" Mrs. Cooper exclaimed. "I trust you slept as well as I did!"

"Yes, quite well, thank you." Mallory said. Mr. Warren nodded and made a soft grunting sound, but did not reply. Oh, how she wished she could cover her face with a hat and outright ignore people like a man could.

Mallory talked with her for a while, mostly giving short responses until the woman tired of talking and nodded off. Mr. Warren shifted and after a quick smile, pulled his hat down over his eyes just as she'd expected. Mallory smiled and opened her book to read.

It was hot that day. There was a very long stretch of road where there were no buildings, no towns and no water. By midday, they were all feeling the effects of the dry, unbearable heat.

Mrs. Cooper was fanning herself desperately. Mr. Lewis had fallen asleep and was snoring in his corner of the coach. Mallory felt as though she couldn't take a deep breath, while Mr. Warren seemed completely unfazed.

Suddenly, the coach lurched and Mallory was thrown to the other side, into Mr. Warren's lap. She gasped, blushing with embarrassment as she tried to right herself and failed. "I'm so sorry!"

Nick easily grabbed her by the upper arms and settled her back into her seat, but the entire coach was off balance and he climbed out to find that one of the wheels was completely broken into pieces. There would be no repairing it.

Mr. Allen, the driver had already climbed down and was scratching his head as he stared down at the splintered wheel.

"Do you have a spare?" Nick asked.

"No, I'm afraid not," he replied. "I think I'm going to have to take one of the horses and ride on to the next town. I'll bring back a new wheel or a new coach, but it might take a while."

"How long?" Nick asked.

Mr. Allen pulled his watch from his vest pocket. "I can probably ride into town and be back in about four hours, if I hurry."

"Well, then I suggest you hurry," Nick said. "We'll be waiting, although I can imagine we'll be wanting some sort of compensation for the inconvenience."

"I'll see what I can do," Mr. Allen said as he unharnessed one of the horses and climbed on. "I'll be back as soon as I can. There's a bit of water in a jug under the front seat,"

He rode off and Nick walked to the front of the coach, reaching up under the seat for the water. There wasn't much but he carried it back to where the others were waiting in the shade, just trying to stay as cool as possible and out of the sweltering sun.

They all stared at him. "The wheel's broken and can't be repaired," he said. "Mr. Allen is riding to the next town to get a new one, so we're just going to have to wait. There's a bit of water here, but it's not going to last long. There are some trees over that way, so I'm going to see if there's water and I'll return shortly."

Mrs Cooper had sat in the shade and was fanning herself aggressively. Mr. Lewis opened the jug of water and helped her drink some. He offered the rest to Mallory, but she told him she had drank a lot of water with breakfast and was fine. She told him to share it with Mrs. Cooper. "I'm going to help Mr. Warren," she said.

"Oh, do be careful!" Mrs. Cooper called after her. "It's so incredibly hot! You'd best not exert yourself! And there might be snakes!"

Mallory followed behind him, but he hadn't noticed and wasn't slowing his pace. "Oh, please wait for me!" she panted.

He stopped and turned suddenly when he heard her voice. "Miss Quinn," he said, walking back to her. "It's far too hot for you to be out here. Go back and wait by the coach. There's shade there."

"I can't!" she gasped. "I can't stay there and listen to Mrs. Cooper for one more second! Please, I won't get in the way, just let me come with you. My ears need the rest!"

He chuckled, even though this was a serious matter. Then he sighed. "Fine. You can come."

"I've never felt heat like this before," she said.

"I have. But not for a long time." He replied over his shoulder.

"Do you suppose it will last very long?" she asked, struggling to keep up, even though he had slowed his pace considerably.

"Possibly a day or two," he replied. He waited for another question he was sure would come, but she was suddenly silent and he turned to see if she was alright. She was several yards back, crumpled on the dusty ground.

"Mallory!" he exclaimed, running back and rolling her over. She was breathing but unconscious. "Mallory, wake up!" he patted her cheek but she didn't wake up and he feared heat stroke. Lifting her in his arms, he carried her the rest of the way to the trees and was relieved to find a tiny spring. Pulling off his hat, he scooped up as much water as he could with it and carried it back to where he had laid her in the shade of the trees. "Mallory, drink this," he said, lifting her up and slowly letting the water trickle into her mouth.

A moment later she sat up fully, with a gasp. "What happened?"

He breathed a sigh of relief. "You scared me." he said. "Here, drink some more."

She was drinking, and thinking about what was in the water, since it was in his hat, which was probably sweaty from his head, when they both flinched at the sound of gunshots. Nick pushed her down behind the nearest tree and peered out towards the coach. He could see riders on horseback, surrounding it with guns drawn and he swore under his breath.

"What's going on?" she asked, trying to see around him.

He shushed her, and clamped his hand over her mouth, as if they might hear her from that far off. "Stay down," he whispered. "Someone's holding up the stagecoach,"

"Who is it?"

"I don't know who they are!" he snapped. "But stay down and be quiet so they don't see us!"

"Well, shouldn't we help them?" she asked. "You have guns!"

"I have three," he said, leaving her wondering where the third one was. "And there's six of them. Even if they only have one a piece, they still outgun me!"

They watched helplessly as the men threw the trunks and other luggage down from the top of the stagecoach and rifled through them. They waved their guns at Mr. Lewis and Mrs. Cooper, taking anything of value that they carried.

"Are they gone yet?" Mallory leaned around him to try to get a good look. Then she gasped. "That man is taking my wedding dress!"

Nick turned to look at her. "You can buy another one!" he snapped.

"No I can't! That was my mother's wedding dress! I can't replace it!"

"Well, you're going to have to!" he whispered, pulling her back from charging out into the open and giving away their position. It wasn't long before the men rode off in a cloud of dust.

"Here, drink some more water," Nick said. She drank as much as she could and he did the same before filling his hat again and carrying it back to the coach. "Come on, let's go check out the damage."

"Are you alright?" Mallory ran ahead and checked on the two older passengers.

"We're fine," Mrs. Cooper said, dusting herself off. "They made an absolute mess of our things, and they went through your carpet bag, Mallory. I don't know if they took anything of yours, but they took my wedding ring and Mr. Lewis' gold pocket watch!"

Mallory was glad she had tucked her money away in her bodice and that she hadn't been there or she would have nothing. Then they heard the riders coming back. Nick quickly removed his guns and tucked them inside the coach underneath the seat where he was sure they had already searched.

Mallory had been speaking with Mr. Lewis when they were suddenly surrounded. He pushed her behind him as they dismounted. "See," one of the men said. "I knew there had to be more of them, with that much luggage!"

"Guess you were right!" one of the others said. "And look what I see!" Pushing Mr. Lewis aside, he walked right up to Mallory, so close that she felt the need to take a step back, right up against the coach. "What a pretty necklace," he said, licking his lips and reaching for her neck.

Slapping his hand away proved to anger him and he slapped her across the face before yanking the chain from her neck as she stood there stunned.

"Hey!" Nick barked, but one of the men closer to him pulled a gun and he stayed put.

"You got anything on you?" the man snarled.

Nick reached into his vest pocket and pulled out an old, but finely made pocket watch, but he was watching the man standing by Mallory.

"Well now, that wasn't so hard, was it?" the man standing in front of Mallory chuckled as a tear ran down her cheek. "Let's go, boys!"

They all watched them ride off and stood there for a moment collecting themselves.

"Oh, now now, dear," Mrs. Cooper said, coming over and patting her on the shoulder. "It can't be that bad. Are you alright?"

Mallory quickly wiped the tears from her cheeks and calmed herself. "I'm fine," she whispered. "I'll help you re-pack your things."

"No. You don't need to do that. You go sit in the shade and rest. I'll take care of my things. Mr. Lewis said he'd help me already,"

Mallory went to the far side of the coach and sat down in the shade. Nick followed her and sat beside her. "They took something important, didn't they?"

"Besides the wedding dress?" she sniffled and laughed softly before reaching up to her neck. "It was a necklace my mother gave me,"

He leaned over and gently pushed the collar of her dress to the side. There was a mark from where the man had ripped it off of her. "I'm sorry," he said. "I hope she won't be upset."

"She died when I was little." Mallory said. "It was all I had left of her. Well, and the dress."

"I'm sorry," he said.

She offered him a small smile. "Life goes on, I suppose."

They heard something and he quickly got to his feet. When he walked around to the other side of the coach, he saw that the driver had returned with a new wheel, a new coach with another driver and another man to help him repair the wheel.

"Let's get you all loaded up onto the new coach and on your way," Mr. Allen said. 

Nick held back when the others went to retrieve their luggage. The new driver didn't seem too happy and he had pulled Mr. Allen aside to speak with him privately.

"This is the third time this has happened," he said, grasping Mr. Allen's arm tightly. "Is there something going on that I should be aware of, Allen? We're going to start losing business if our customers keep getting robbed, but it only seems to happen to your coaches!"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Mr. Allen jerked his arm free.

"If it happens again, I'm going to have to let you go!"

Nick walked over and helped load the luggage onto the new coach. Then he helped the ladies up and climbed up after Mr. Lewis. He was quiet for the rest of the trip until they stopped for the night.

Mr. Riley, the new driver, was also Mr. Allen's supervisor. He drove them the rest of the way to town and when they stepped down, he stopped them. "I'm terribly sorry about what happened," he said. "I'd like to pay for your hotel rooms tonight and your meals for the inconvenience."

"Well, it's a start," Mrs. Cooper huffed. "But they made off with all of our valuables! My pearls! Mr. Lewis' watch! And Miss Quinn's necklace and a wedding dress that cannot be replaced!"

"I understand, ma'am," Mr. Riley said. "I'll see if there's anything else I can do."

"Very good," she huffed. "I'll look for you in the morning!"

Mallory stood there quietly. No amount of money the man  could possibly offer her would make up for the missing items.

Supper was still being served in the hotel dining room when they went inside and they ate before going up to the rooms Mr. Riley had arranged for them.

Still upset about the whole ordeal, Mrs. Cooper grumbled the entire way up the stairs. But as Mallory followed them through the lobby, she realized that Mr. Warren wasn't with them and she stopped halfway up the stairs to look for him. He was standing just outside the lobby doors, leaning against the corner of the wall and watching for something. She wasn't sure what, but perhaps he just wasn't tired. She sighed and continued up the stairs to her room.

Nick waited there outside the doors for nearly an hour until he saw the other stagecoach pull into town. Mr. Allen pulled the coach to a stop over at the depot, which was just across the street, and with a quick look around, he hopped down and headed towards the nearest saloon. Nick followed him.

It was dark and hazy inside the saloon and he stood just inside the swinging doors, waiting for his eyes to adjust. Mr. Allen had gone straight to the back corner where six men were sitting around a table and seemed to be celebrating something. Nick inched closer.

"We gotta ease up, Willis!" Allen was overheard saying. "Riley's starting to suspect and if I get fired, that will be the end of all this!"

"Oh, lighten up, Allen!" One of the men grinned, holding up a shot glass full of whiskey. "Have a drink!"

"Look, Willis, just take it easy for a while, alright?"

"We'll see. Depends on what we raked in today," Willis laughed, holding up the necklaces. "Got me a string of pearls off the old broad. And this sweet little bit of gold off the pretty one,"

"Well, at least wait until they're out of town before you try selling those!" Allen hissed, pushing the man's hands down and glancing over his shoulder.

One of the girls that were working came over with a tray of drinks and set them on the table. "You boys need anything else?" she asked coyly.

"This should do for now," Willis winked at her. "Check back in ten minutes."

"I sure will," she smiled. As soon as she turned away, her smile disappeared and she rolled her eyes.

Nick walked over, grabbing a chair from the table next to theirs, and spinning it around. He set it down, right up against their table and straddled it. "Good to see you made it back in one piece, Allen," he said.

"Oh! Mr. Warren! You startled me!" he tried to appear calm, but he was shaking like a leaf and sweating profusely. "Boys, this is one of the passengers from the stagecoach today. I was just telling them about the robbery. I still can't believe it happened!"

"I can't believe you've been getting away with it," Nick said calmly.

Allen swallowed hard. "Getting away with what?" he managed.

"Getting away with sabotaging your coaches and then letting your friends here rob them while you're off getting a new wheel."

He blanched. "That's ridiculous! Why would I do something like that?"

Nick shrugged. "I don't know why anyone would do that, but it must be lucrative if you've already done it twice before. But what I do know is those jewels your friend is hiding under the table right now don't belong to him and they aren't going to do anything to improve his looks, so if he doesn't hand them over, along with everything else in that little bag of his, he's going to get a very uncomfortable introduction."

"Introduction to what?" Willis asked, gulping back one of the shots on the table.

"My name is Nick. Nick Warren. Does that name ring a bell?"

One of the other men suddenly shifted nervously in his chair. "Just give him the loot, Willis," he said.

"Why would I?" Willis asked. "And why would your name ring a bell?"

"Because," the other man whispered loudly. "He's the man who killed the entire Cartwright gang. By himself!"

Willis' expression suddenly turned serious. "Oh. That Nick Warren." he said. His mouth had suddenly gone very dry and he cleared hos throat. "Well then, I guess we should return this jewelry we found this afternoon." he handed the two necklaces to Nick.

"I suggest you return all the items you took." Nick said, staring him down with an icy glare.

Licking his lips nervously, Willis pulled a small cloth bag from his vest pocket and handed it over, his hand shaking.

"And the wedding dress, too." Nick said.

"Oh, that." The other man said with a nervous laugh. "That's outside. Tied to my horse."

"I'll follow you outside while your friends stay right here," Nick said, standing slowly. "I'm much obliged to you gentlemen for finding my friends' lost items." he turned to Allen. "I suggest you start looking for other work. In a different town. If I hear of this happening again, I will be back and I won't be nearly so gracious."

Allan swallowed hard and they all watched anxiously as he stood to his full height of six feet. He slowly put the chair back where he'd taken it from. But they all grew increasingly nervous as he lingered there.

"There's one more thing," he said, leaning with his knuckles on the table.

"Yes?" Allen asked.

He pointed at Willis. "Get on your feet,"

"Me?"

"Yes. You."

Willis swallowed hard and stood up, the chair scraping loudly on the floor.

Nick straightened up and walked over to him. He tidied his hat. Straightened his collar and brushed a bit of dust off his shoulder. "If you ever put your hands on a lady again, I'll kill  you," he whispered. He tipped his hat as Willis wet his pants, and motioned for the man who claimed to have the wedding dress to lead the way outside. He left without another word and no one dared follow him.

"Where can I find Mr. Riley?" Nick asked at the hotel when he returned.

"Oh, hello Mr. Warren. I believe he just went into the dining room," the woman at the desk said with a smile.

"Thank you." he replied.

"Ah, Mr. Warren!" Mr. Riley was alone in the dining room, eating his food and was surprised to see him. Supper was just wrapping up and he'd have to order fairly soon if he wanted to eat. "Have you had supper yet?"

"I have," Nick said. "Please, don't let me keep you from your meal. I just wanted to relay some information to you."

"Alright, have a seat." He sat back down and continued eating as Nick lowered himself into the seat across from him.

"I just had a very informative conversation with Mr. Allen down at the saloon," Nick said.

"I think the man drinks far too much," Mr. Riley said with a serious face. "What did you talk about?"

"He knows the men who've been robbing the stagecoaches," Nick said. "And he was there with them."

Mr. Riley nearly dropped his fork. "You don't say?"

"The busted wheel was just an excuse for him to leave the coach so his buddies could loot it. I have a feeling he'll be resigning his position fairly shortly.

"How do you know this?"

"I thought it was strange when he didn't seem surprised when he got back to the coach and found that it had been robbed." Nick said. "In fact, he didn't seem to care at all. He just wanted to get that wheel on and get going. So, I waited until he got back into town and followed him to the saloon. Overheard him telling his friends that they needed to tone it down a bit or he was going to get caught. Needless to say, it was already too late for that. They were happy to return the items that were taken, but I suggest, Mr. Riley, that you keep a better eye on your employees."

"They gave everything back?" Riley nearly choked on his mashed potatoes.

Nick pulled the bag from his vest and dropped it onto the table with a thud. "We'll see if it's everything once I return it to the others," he said.

"Why would they give it back to you?"

Nick shrugged. "I just have a way with people, I suppose." he stood up and tipped his hat before reaching down and grabbing the wedding dress from the chair beside him. "Goodnight, Mr. Riley."

Returning to the hotel desk, he gave the woman his name. When she had him sign the register, he made a mental note of the rooms the others were in. "Thank you," he said, taking the key and heading up the stairs.

Mallory was startled when she heard a knock on her door. She had just started dressing for bed and had taken her shoes off. Hoping it was just housekeeping, she unbolted the door and opened it a few inches.

"Begging your pardon, Miss Quinn," He said. "I didn't want to disturb you, but I believe this belongs to you." He was holding the wedding dress and the thin gold necklace. "I hope they're not ruined."

Her mouth dropped open and her eyes filled with tears. It appeared the dress would need a good cleaning as it was a bit dusty, and the necklace was likely broken from being yanked off her neck, but those were things that could be fixed. She took the items and held them to her chest. "How did you find them?" she asked.

"I have my ways." he replied. "Was anything else of yours taken?"

"No, I didn't have anything else of value," she shook her head, not mentioning the money that was still tucked down inside her bodice.

"Alright, well goodnight then, Miss Quinn."

She smiled. "Goodnight Mr. Warren. And thank you."

He returned the other items to Mrs. Cooper and Mr. Lewis before going to his own room and closing the door behind him. The only item they had taken from him was his pocket watch and he dropped that inside his hat before he turned in for the night.

"Ah, there you are!" Mr. Riley met them in the lobby early the next morning. "You were right, Mr. Warren! Mr. Allen resigned his post late last night. Not long after we spoke as a matter of fact. Apparently he's moving out of town. I've also received a reply to a telegram I sent yesterday and the Wells Fargo Stage Company has authorized me to return the money you all paid for your fares. Under the circumstances, I wish I could do more, but I feel like it's a good start."

Mrs. Cooper and Mr. Lewis seemed excited at the news and quickly signed out of their rooms to follow Mr. Riley to the bank. Mallory, however, looked a bit bewildered.

"I don't understand," she said to Mr. Warren as he waited with her while she returned her key. "Why would they return our fares? We got our belongings back."

"They probably don't want any negative press," he replied.

"What did he mean about you being right?" she asked, leaving her carpet bag with the rest of their luggage and walking beside him towards the bank.

He shrugged. "I saw Mr. Allen last night after he returned with the other coach." he said. "I just noticed that he seemed a bit displeased. Perhaps he was unhappy with his job. I just mentioned that I didn't think he'd be staying around for much longer."

"Oh," she murmured.

When they reached the bank, Mr. Riley returned their full fares to them. Mallory stared down at the fifty dollars in her hand and realized that perhaps she could change the outcome of her story. The other money Ms. Desmond had given to her was for lodging and meals along the way, and she'd been very careful with it, although Mr. Riley's generous offer to pay for their hotel and meals the night before had been helpful. If she was frugal, she could live on fifty dollars for quite some time. 

"I suggest you hide it somewhere on your person," Nick whispered, "Just in case."

She would hide it in her bodice when no one was looking, she decided.

"I wish you all luck on the remainder of your trip," Mr. Riley said as they boarded the new coach with another new driver. "If you have any trouble at all between here and San Fransisco, please, send me a telegram and I'll make sure they take care of you."

Nick thanked him and shook his hand as Mr. Lewis helped Mrs. Cooper and Mallory into the coach. When he climbed up behind them, he was surprised that Mr. Lewis had taken the seat next to Mrs. Cooper, leaving the seat beside Mallory empty. He sat down, leaned his head back and covered his face with his hat.