They sat at the plank table in Quinlan's a cup of coffee in front of each, but both just looking at the table top, glancing now and again at one another. For Molly McGuire she was in the middle of nowhere with a father that was dying, and a trip yet ahead of her to his brother's place near Portland. And here was this man, an attraction was there, but he had his own journey ahead of him to wherever he was headed. She was feeling lost and empty all at the same time.

"Driving the wagon, you're up to that?" He asked as if he could help if she was not. There was Thornton family business that lie ahead for him, and he could not delay by trekking to Oregon with this woman he barely knew, even though there was a desire to do just that.

"Yes. I've driven a good deal of the way so far, tended to the mules, done the cooking, yes Mister Thornton, I can manage. I've a ways yet to go, and I have no choice but to get to my uncles. After that, I, well, I have no idea."

"Ty. Never doubted you abilities for a moment, just asking to be sure."

She nodded that she knew his intention, yet surprised by his asking.

Ty looked at her, "That I was not bound by family business myself, I would go with you, but damn, I cannot. Excuse me. Not fit language." There was a tug to add the miles that the trip would require, but it would be close to a year making it to Kalispell as it was. He had given his word, and to a man with little else, he was bound by it.

"I know." She responded, because she did. "Where is it you're going?" The question was one she had no answer to, in fact, other than his name she knew nothing of him.

"Montana. Kalispell Montana. My cousin sent word he needed help, and that there could be trouble. He has a place up there. Big one I guess. I don't know a lot about what's going on, only that he sent for me to lend a hand." It seemed kind of hollow, the not knowing what he was riding into. On the Lazy S he knew what was what. Knew the threat of the Apache, the Pima and Comanche, as well as the border outlaws, Comancheros they sometimes called themselves. "Been a long ride from New Mexico territory."

She looked at him then, "For me as well.Philadelphia. I'm glad we have met Ty Thornton. Not the circumstances, but that we were able to meet." A faint smile crossed her lips.

He looked out the window and it was once again snowing, a wind had come up, driving the snow against whatever stood in it's way. The white, so intense, it blocked out the gray of the leaden sky. This happened frequently, and made life in Atlantic city all that more difficult on those trapped there. But as the days passed they had been assured the the storms would lessen and the sun would shine more often until it commanded the sky and melted away the remnants of winter. Those there couldn't wait for that miracle to happen.

"In spite of the conditions under which we've met, I too am glad. Odd how these things happen. I mean to say, it's like the telegram I received from a cousin I'd not seen since were were boys. Because of that I'm here, oddly enough had there not been a break in the weather, I would not have tried to make it here, I'd still be at Gilbert's Tradin' Post south of here twiddlin' my thumbs. Glad for the clearing though." He smiled. "Your Pa, likely he won't last but maybe another day. I'll lend a hand with the buryin', such as we can in this weather. Ground'll be hard as a rock so you'll need to consider what you'd care to do about it, there's choices." He did not bother to go into them.

She looked tired, saddened, and who wouldn't given the situation. Her affairs were none of his concern, but he had intruded anyway. He liked her, liked her real well, but was certainly afraid for it to get any further than that. He was bound to answer Shades call, and would much as he might not like to.

"And what is it you would do, Ty? What?" She asked. "I know what those choices would be, and honestly, I know Pa wouldn't care one way or another. It's not like I'd be coming by of a Sunday regularly to visit the grave."

"Your Pa ain't got a lot of time, I said that, and yeah there are choices, but here's the thing Molly, A day, maybe two and then he's gone. Seein's how you'll likely not make it out this way again, then we, bury him, if it can be done." Ty replied. "Keep him comfortable while we can,."

"Yes I guess you're right. I had so hoped we would get to Oregon and to my uncles place where we planned to start again. Plans that now are altered irreversibly." She exhaled heavily, tears escaping her eyes. "But I must press on and hope that a new start is possible there. It was what pa wanted for us, and I should try to make the dream a reality."

"Ain't nothin' easy in this life, Molly, nothin'." He said, "seems like for every positive there's a negative, sometimes bigger than any positive. Good fortune seems rare for most folks out here, but just that we met, that means it's possible." He paused weighing what he would say next,

"This probably ain't fair neither, Molly, but I've no idea how long I'll be in Kallispell, or what I'll have to do while there, but when the jobs done, I'd like to ride on to Oregon an' rekindle this friendship we've started. Fact is, when the thaw comes, I'll ride on with you til I have to turn north, if you wouldn't mind."

"I'd like that Ty, I truly would. Be something for each of us to look forward too in this uncertain world we live in. Yes, that would be nice." She took his hand then. "I knew it when I saw you that there was some sort of future for us, and now you have said as much. You have made this passing of my father a bit easier than it would have been otherwise. So I imagine we just take this day by day then."

His free hand closed over hers. "Yes'um, that's how we'll do 'er."

Looking back, the wind blown snow made the day even worse than it was. During the night Nathan "Nate" Scarborough passed from this world, never to see Oregon, or the man that came with his daughter to check on him. It was evident that she wanted to breakdown, but she held her resolve to be strong in this time of tragedy, not that it was not expected, but as anyone would have said in a similar situation, 'not today.' No day was the 'right' day, or a 'good day' for the end to come for a loved one.

Ty and Bartholomew Quinlan carefully wrapped the man in the bed sheets then bound the sheet wrapped corpse with rope and carried him to the barn where they set him aside from the animals to wait out the snow.

"Should you and the lady push on, I'll see to his burial, This here blow feels like maybe the last one. Givin' 'er all she's got, the next'll be less and then less and then by God! Sunshine, and the thaw!. 'course now, that might be a while yet, but the worst I believe has passed."

"Bart, you been a good friend through all'a this. I appreciate it an' I'm sure Miss McGuire does too. Believe she'll be a few days grievin' the loss." Ty offered.

"Miss McGuire is it now. Ty, I seen how the two of you look at one another, everyone has. You two've been the bright spot for some." Bart said. "Was I you, an' glad I'm not, I'd grab that woman and make her your own Mister Thornton, no matter where it is you're headed, nor what must be done when you get there. You'll not find a better chance at happiness, and I'm thinkin' them guns don't offer no promise of good things to come. Just my opinion Ty."

That conversation had happened a month or so ago, since Nate's passing the relationship between Ty and Molly had grown. They were closer as the time passed and they took solace in one another, both for her loss, and his need to stay true to his given word. For him there was no choice about where he was headed, nor what he had to do. True, that remained a mystery, but what he felt about this woman was as plain as the nose on his face.

The snow was not quite gone when the remaining wagons from the train were hitched as the they made ready to pull out of Atlantic City, It would be slow going as the ground would still be soft, but when the meeting was held in the main room, the vote was to go on to Oregon without delay.

Bartholomew Quinlan had mixed feelings about their leaving, partly the weather, the ground and the miles ahead of them, and partly the need for them to be gone. Yet he would miss them, some of them anyway. And Tyrell Thornton who had made a difference to Molly McGuire and to him with his help around the place. Yet as with all things, the people had just been guests and needed to move on to their destination in Oregon, wherever that may be. But change, the only constant in life, was due with the the thaw.

Ty had helped Molly get her wagon ready for the trip west, her trip west, and over the past moths he found himself in argument with himself about what it was that he must do, and, what he wanted to do. The two pulling him hard. His promise to his cousin Shade, and his growing fondness for Molly. It could be easily mistaken for love, because it was, not that he had admitted it.

For her, it was not the same two choices. She had to reach Oregon and there was no arguing that, but Molly McGuire was in love with the bearded man Tyrell Thornton and wanted to make a life with him, if he felt the same way, yet as she had come to know him, she understood that he had given his word to go to Montana and if he didn't, that decision would weigh on him and on them. How much happiness could they have if he did not do what he had said he would do.

So they were at a stalemate. The future would have to look out for itself.

The morning broke cold and windy, it was till dark but the teams were hitched, horses breath gray in the dimness of the morning from the cold. Everyone was ready to start out, excitement to be on the trail again, even though monotony would set in soon enough, they would be on their way to what they perceived as the promised land.

Ty rode up next to Molly's wagon and he looked at her in the pale light of the dawn. The sun crested in the east as she stepped down and he did as well. Was something wrong? That was his first thought, but she answered that quuickly enough with an embrace, which he returned, and a kiss full on his mouth, which he also returned and then the hug.

"You came back to me Tyrell Thornton, no matter what. You come back to me." She said quietly.

"I will." He said and kissed her back.

The Last of the Trail lay ahead of Tyrell Thornton. A long stretch from that corner Wyoming to Montana. He had found more than he had bargained for in Atlantic City, that was for sure. He trailed along side of her wagon, as there were miles ahead of them before he actually would turn north. Something he was not looking forward to, though in his heart he knew that he must, he had given his word, so he would do what he must, yet he also knew that when the job was done, he would find Molly McGuire and marry her.

The miles and the morning slipped away as they made their way along the base of the mountains ever closer to where the canyon led the way north but form the looks of it, he might just have one more evening with Molly, and that would be good. He was glad of the noon break where they got a chance to spend some time together.

Funny he thought how things worked out. How he would never have met Molly McGuire had he not answered the call from Shade. How he would still be on the Lazy S, south of Lordsburg in the stifling heat instead of making his way through the snow. But fate had dealt him a good opening hand by putting her in his life. And this trip to Kalispell, if he didn't die of lead poisoning, he finish what needed doing and head for Oregon.

They walked along without saying much of anything, just enjoying their time together as they walked away from the wagons a short, safe distance, not knowing the country and what hostiles it might be home to.

"I understand that you have to go, and I know that the wait will be long and difficult for the both of us." She began. "I'm grateful that we have had this time, that we met, that, well, that there is a future for us out there someday, hopefully soon."

He took her hand. "It was meant to be is all I can figure, and I'm glad of it." He responded. "That we have a future, that you'll wait on me to finish this up, can't put into words how that makes me feel. Afraid I'd make it less than it is. What was before, was. It's what will be that's important. I'll find you Molly McGuire. Maybe you write to me, given you know my name an' where I'll be. I'll write you back."

Before she could answer the new wagon boss shouted that it was time to go. Then in a rush she said, "I'll write. I love you!" And they hurried back to the wagon and his horses. His heart was pounding and not from exertion either. Love. It had found them both.

They pressed on ever closer to their destination and to where Ty would ride off, but the wagon train, such as it was, stopped to make camp for the night. The wagons circled, animals kept close, fires lit, and supper started. One last night in camp, it wouldn't be long now.

Dawn broke cold, but with clear skies overhead. Hitching the teams was harder in the cold than when they unhitched the night previous. An early start was required as the days were short even as spring tried to stretch them. Horses were not happy, mules were contrary as always, warm or cold getting into leather for the day's march ahead.

Ty helped Molly hitch up as he had done before, then saddled his own horse for the last ride alongside the wagon of Molly McGuire, a day he did not look forward too, though it would be close to mid-day before he needed to head north. The minutes that he had left with her were precious. How this had happened he did not care to know, only that it did. They stood by the wagon, the last of the coffee in his cup as he held her hand. Words between them were scarce, but they looked at one another, their eyes saying everything that needed to be said for the moment.

The call had come, and he helped her up onto the wagon seat, not that he needed to, but he wanted to, and she wanted him to. He mounted and moved beside the wagon, leaning over to hold her hand when the wagon boss shouted, "Move out!" and in turn, her wagon started forward, pushing on for the promise of Oregon, and for Ty, the promise of the unknown and life without her.

They had not had enough time together in the months that were now their back story. The beginning of something, the promise of a future, the return of love for each of them. Molly sat the seat, ribbons in her right hand, his in her left as the train poked along westward. The day worn on toward noon and the nooning when the wagons would stop for a mid-day meal and a break for the animals.

When it cam he helped her down and held her about the waist. "Another couple miles, Molly. I'll be headed north, but you'll be forever in my heart."

"Hush," she said laying two gloved fingers on his lips. "You'll have me in tears and I'd not want that. We have it to do, you and I. Doesn't mean it will be forever, just as long as it takes. I have your word you'll come for me, and that will have to do. I believe you Tyrell Thornton and I love you. You remember that."

"And just how could I forget." He responded, words were becoming harder.

"Here. A likeness of me so you'll not forget." She smiled her eyes glistening. "I'll not forget you."

"Lets get a move on!" The wagon boss shouted.

They were pressed to one another in each others embrace. No words were said when Ty lifted her to the seat, then turned to his horse, tied to the wagon wheel. He stepped into leather situated himself then looked at her as they started forward. Just another couple of miles before he left the train and Molly McGuire.

It was upon them before they knew it and he stopped as she moved forward. He crossed behind her and started north, the stopped and watched the train and her wagon until they were out of sight, then with a reluctance he had never known before, he spurred his horse and galloped toward the future.

The trip was all but over, after passing the fort he could plainly see the town that lie ahead, that would be Kalispell. So the plan would be to stop at the saloon, ask about this Lost Lake Ranch and then head on out to it and get a hold of Cantrell to find out what was what and where he would fit into the equation.

:: Kalispell, Montana ::

The memory of Molly McGuire hung with him during his ride. Having watched the train disappear from sight, taking her on to Oregon had been hard, but here he was, riding into Kalispell, It was now July of '76, making the trip the longest ride he had ever attempted, and it was finally coming to an end, opening the next phase of his life.

The trail dissolved into the main street, and just ahead a sign that read 'Stardust Saloon,' with the promise of a beer and information. His second cautionary thought, the Lost Lake Ranch, were the Thornton's thought of well, or with hostility? That question would likely be answered at this Stardust Saloon.

Many were the eyes that followed the newcomer as he rode into town. John Anderson stood on the porch of his store watching the man as he past the store, wondering to himself if this yet another gunman for Elias Steelgrave's arsenal of gun hands, and if so, why? Did he not have enough, especially with the rumor that Case Steelgrave was back in the territory, and with a number of men with him.

The eyes of the people on the street were plain enough, there was something going on here, and he was being eyed as a man recruited to one side or another, which side would be of importance to both sides. He reined in at the hitch rail to one side of the Stardust and stepped down, flipping his reins over the rail and then stepping up on the boardwalk and pushing through the bat wings, he walked to the bar.

"Howdy" He said to the barman.

A bearded man came thru the batwing doors, total stranger Ralph thought and he usually had a pretty good memory for faces if not necessarily names. He had the look of a cowpoke or a gunman or both. If he was yet another Evergreen man, he wasn't familiar.

"Howdy."

Ralph nodded, "Howdy. Can I get ya somethin'?"

"A beer'd be nice. Hot out there today." Ty responded. "I'm looking for a man, a Quentin Cantrell. You know where I might find him?" The question sort of hung in the air. Obviously this Cantrell was known around town, at least in the saloon, by the looks of things. But there was no way of telling whether that was good or bad news.

"Not huntin' him. Name's Thornton, Tyrell Thornton. Cousin to Shade Thornton. He asked me to check in on him." He wanted them to know he was not after Cantrell.

"A beer'd be nice. Hot out there today." Ty responded.

"That it is. Better hot than freezin'," Ralph gave his opinion on it then added, "One beer coming up."

"I'm looking for a man, a Quentin Cantrell. You know where I might find him?" asked the newcomer.

"Yeah, I know the man. Lookin' for him then?" Ralph had to wonder.

"Not huntin' him. Name's Thornton, Tyrell Thornton. Cousin to Shade Thornton. He asked me to check in on him."

A relative, now that was interesting.

"I know Shade Thornton too. Not that either Cantrell or Thornton ever frequent this place. In fact, neither come inta town much period. But they have a ranch a few miles outside of town. Lost Lake Ranch, it's a big one too, lot of cattle, impressive home not that I ever been there. Just goin' by what they say," Ralph explained.

"There's another large ranch too, Evergreen, and there has been a lot of bad blood between the two. I don't pay attention to all the details of why, none of my business," he added.

"I rode a long ways to get here, not sure about all that's goin' on betwixt this Lost Lake of his and them other folks, the Steelgraves, but I reckon it can be straightened out easy enough. At least I hope so, got me a future elsewhere." He explained, truly not knowing the lay of the land, but hoping to get a feel for it from the bartender.

"Been near a year on the trail up from New Mexico Territory, down Lordsburg way. Hell of a ride. Be glad to meet up with this Cantrell fella, get this all ironed out and be on my way over to Oregon." He took a long drink of his beer.

"I rode a long ways to get here, not sure about all that's goin' on betwixt this Lost Lake of his and them other folks, the Steelgraves, but I reckon it can be straightened out easy enough. At least I hope so, got me a future elsewhere."

Ralph had to smile at that, "Yer quite the optimist. It's been a long running feud and blood has been spilt already. But I wish ya luck, sincerely I do."

"Been near a year on the trail up from New Mexico Territory, down Lordsburg way. Hell of a ride. Be glad to meet up with this Cantrell fella, get this all ironed out and be on my way over to Oregon." He took a long drink of his beer.

"New Mexico, never been down there but you do get around some. And then Oregon you say? So what's in Oregon?" Ralph was curious.

At that moment Caroline, who had just left a table where she had been chatting (OK, flirting) with a few cowpokes, came sauntering up to the bar. She flashed a smile at the bartender.

"Geezus, I just learned more about brandin' cows than I ever knew before...or wanted ta know," she chuckled to Ralph.

Then she turned to this latest customer, a stranger, but they get enough of those almost every day.

"Well, hello there, hon. Please...don't tell me you come to talk about brandin' cows?" she asked in a teasing tone of voice.

Ty didn't get the chance to answer the barman, the lady intervened first. "No Ma'am I did not. Looking to find this Quentin Cantrell or the Lost Lake Ranch. But cattle brandin' can be a boring subject, alright. Maybe you know this fella, r can direct me to the Lost Lake?" He knew she was caging drinks, no matter what else she did. It was a way to make money for both the saloon and her. "Give the lady a drink won't you?" With that he laid a coin on the bar.

"Been on the trail a while, so another spell of lookin' ain't about to hurt nothin', I don't suppose." He considered. "Looks to be a right nice town ya got here." It was like what did he really have to say to anyone, and this woman caging drinks? Well, not much of anything really, though she was quite a looker.

"Maybe the sheriff, I take it you have one, maybe he could help. If the place is a ways off, I just might have to get a meal I don't have to cook, and a room with a bed that ain't the hard ground." Which, even as he said it, it was sounding better than more time in the saddle.

Now Tyrell had never been questioned as to his identity. A man said who he was and it was pretty much taken as gospel, though more than one man had used an alias, or plain outright lied about who he was. Ty had never outright lied about much of anything. He'd bent the truth some on occasion, but only when he felt it absolutely necessary. Then came the tirade.

"But, well, I don't wanna cast no nasturtiums mister, but how do we know you really are this long lost cousin of Mr Thornton that no one's ever heard of before now: you might just be a professional gunman hired to find Mr Cantrell and shoot him dead: I mean, he's got an awful lot of enemies 'round here, like the Steelgraves fer a start. And Cantrell, he's the rootinest-tootinist gunman around these parts. He's the type of feller that shoots first and asks questions afterwards; heck, half the time he don't even bother askin' the questions. And just lately he filled a bunch of Steelgrave's men so full of lead, you could'a sharpened their heads and used 'em as pencils."

"Now Miss, I appreciate the information about this here boarding house, I truly do. An' I supposed you'd be right to question who I say I am, but I surely ain't here to do harm to no one. I'm here on family business." He replied, not as many words as had gushed from the young lady, but enough. and just as he was about to draw out the telegram from Sade, she went on,

"We should get Missus Sarah Carlton-Thornton-Carlton to identify this feller before we give out and further information about Mr Cantrell" she opined, before turning back to Ty and giving him a winning smile "No offence!"

Suddenly there was other family he had no knowledge of or ever met announced. He looked from the dark haired girl to the bar keep and back again. He drew out the yellow paper, looking to the Barman, "You read?" He asked, a reasonable question of the period.