Kate tracked the man in black through the desert, reading the scratchings in the ground like they were a map, an arrow pointing directly to her quarry.

***

Childhood years, when they are not marked by particular trauma or upheaval, tend to bleed into each other. The next few years on the farm were, undoubtedly, the greatest of Kate's life. To say that life on a farm was difficult would be putting it mildly- most people not used to the lifestyle would have struggled mightily against the at times insurmountable amount of work. Kate, however, relished the stability and almost comfort of a place where she knew she could stay and an adult that treated her with something more than benevolent disdain and exasperation.

The children grew and settled into their own specialties on the farm. Matt, the oldest, had grown taller and broader than John, with Mark close behind him in height. Kate had gone through a growth spurt so extreme that her pants always seemed to be creeping up her calves, and the never-ending daily labor had filled her out with a wiry muscle. Her brown hair was often tied behind her head, and she unceremoniously chopped it off when it got in her way. Still, she hadn't failed to notice that Mark, and even Matthew, were looking at her differently.

She fell into the familiar routine of waking early, working hard, lunching with John and the boys, and returning to work until sunset. Most evenings, after dinner, John tried to teach the three children how to read, although they often collapsed into bed. It was, despite the lack of luxury and prevalence of labor, a good life and a steady routine.

Which is what made it so surprising when, one morning, Kate saw Mark sprinting back from the east field towards the house. She dropped what she was doing and followed as well, worried that something had happened to John. When she entered the house, Mark was already breathlessly explaining.

"-both on brown horses, both wearing masks. Took the herd and told me to run. They shot their guns... I don't know if they were trying to hit me or just scare me, but I made it away."

John's brow was creased, and he immediately stood and, removing a key from around his neck, opened the locked cabinet where he kept his guns. There were several rifles and pistols, but John only removed his gunbelt and placed a single revolver, which he carefully checked and loaded before closing and locking the cabinet.

"Don't you think we should have weapons too, John, since we're coming with you?"

"You're not coming with me, Matthew. You're all going to stay here. Kate, you'll make lunch. I'll be back in a little while."

The three children shared look with each other, Kate bristling more than usual at the fact that she had to prepare lunch. They followed John out to the barn, where he quickly saddled a horse and rode off. He was still in sight when Matt and Kate started scrambling to saddle horses of their own. Mark grimaced.

"These guys were trouble. I think we should stay here, and John said the same thing."

Matt snorted dismissively.

"You're really going to let the girl make you look that yellow?"

Kate winked at him and, in a few moments, they were all saddled and following John. He'd started to teach them about tracking, but none of them trusted their skills enough yet, so they kept him in sight far across the plains. He would almost certainly notice them at some point, but they'd rather suffer the consequences than miss out on the action.

Eventually, John stopped at a small house. As he dismounted, a gunshot rang out and he fell from his horse, landing hard in the dust. Kate and Mark cried out and both started to kick their horses in motion- Kate towards John and Mark towards home- before Matt grabbed their reigns and held them both steady. Two men came strutting casually out of the house to approach the old man lying in the road, but John's hand was a blur as he fired from his prone position, dropping both men to the ground. He stood up, dusted himself off, and waved for the children to approach. When they arrived, he was reloading and re-holstering his gun.

"You disobeyed me... I didn't want you to see that, though I suppose it was inevitable sooner or later. These are- were- the Redford brothers. They're the only criminals around who were young and stupid enough not to know better to steal from me. Matthew, go catch my horse. Mark, Kate, lead the herd back home. I'll join you shortly.

Kate was jolted from her own thoughts, staring down at the dead men, and slowly started riding off toward their stolen herd. Her thoughts, though, were occupied with wondering about John's capacity for and skill with violence.