The pair of riders trotted side by side, one man and one woman. As they rode their eyes were mostly on the horizon while on occasion checking the dirt road they were on, trying to discern tracks. Not just any tracks but of one particular horse which had hurriedly departed Kalispell only two hours earlier. It's rider had reason to flee in such haste for he had failed in his mission and made two very vindictive enemies.

The pair were rather reluctantly together at all for each had tried hard to convince the other not to come. Both had their reasons. Both were quite stubbornly convinced they were right too. But now they had settled in for a grudging partnership on this journey. Plus they were riding into a whole lot of trouble and danger so having each other to depend upon was actually a smart move. And neither of these two were stupid.

Maura realized that if Mr. Smith was going to risk his life in this and a risk it was, she owed it to the man to reveal more about her thus far secretive personal crusade. Some of it was no doubt not the sort of thing this Englishman, for he was more that than an American despite his current locale, was going to like hearing. But she decided she was not going to lie to him. She owed him the truth.

"Mr. Smith, I still be thinking you are makin' a grave mistake but ....I do appreciate your determination. You are truly a gentleman," she started.

"I said earlier the man we are now tracking is not someone I even know and that is the truth of it. But the man who put him up to this, that be my prize. He is an Irishman too but a black hearted traitor to his own and a thief to boot."

"You deserve to know the whole story....that is if it  tis your wish?  And...once you hear it said, you may just want to turn back and leave this crazy loon on her own. I would not blame you."

"It's kind of you to say so," Roland softened his tone from the occasional grousing they'd done at each other during the ride.  Being told he was a gentleman was exactly the sort of palliative guaranteed to soothe any ruffled feathers.  For while he certainly was not- frequently proven in both thought and deed- he desperately wanted to be seen as one.

He turned towards his riding companion.  The latest of the remarkable ladies he'd met on this frontier.  Though she was not of this particular frontier.  Like him, she was a visitor.  In his case, he'd been drawn in by the magnetism of opportunity that permeated this place.  In her case, it seemed the magnetic attraction was some flavor of revenge.  A cycle of violence that would end either with her death, or someone else's.  But he still didn't know why.

Fortunately, that was the very tale on offer.

"Yes, I think I'd like to hear it," he said, "though I do not think it will alter my opinion of this quest.  Whatever good or evil is in your tale, I've seen enough evil with my own eyes.  One does not hire an assassin to murder an unsuspecting lady in the streets.  Not unless they are foul to the core."

Wayfarer

"Yes, I think I'd like to hear it," he said, "though I do not think it will alter my opinion of this quest.  Whatever good or evil is in your tale, I've seen enough evil with my own eyes.  One does not hire an assassin to murder an unsuspecting lady in the streets.  Not unless they are foul to the core."

"Very well, Mr. Smith, I will try and tell you all that I know. You may interrupt for questions of course, it might be a long tale," Maura nodded.

"Emmett Brampton. That is the name of the man I am chasing. And that is no doubt the man who hired this assassin. Fortunately he did not hire a great shot," she had to smile at that at least.

"But it is most like him not to do any dirty work himself," she continued, "Up in Ottawa I was a member of a small group of Irish patriots, exiles from our native land, but hoping for someday driving the English from our country. Emmett was one of us. We also were raisin' funds to help the cause ya see. Well, Emmett waited til we had ourselves a goodly amount and then informed on us to the English authorities in Ottawa. The menfolk were arrested, rounded up. Including me but they had nothing on me so I got let go."

"He of course was not arrested but he fled with all the money we had raised. Our treasurer, a good man, was found dead with a bullet hole in the back of his head. I vowed I would chase him to the ends of the earth even if I had to do it meself. I have the steel for it, I assure ye."

"...Fortunately he did not hire a great shot..."

Roland smirked, nodding, "He probably did not want to invest in a good professional.  Though, finding someone who is willing to kill is the biggest hurdle in such matters.  Gratefully few men of any talent are prepared to simply murder someone for pay.  Fewer still are those who'd shoot a woman."

But she went on with her tale, and Roland felt a growing discomfort within him.  She was confessing to being a rebel, aiming for acts of treason against the Crown.  One rebel had robbed other rebels and turned them in for their crimes.  He was sure that was a grave crime among rebels.

But it did not seem meet that he should be aiding such a cause.  A flash of panic rose in him as he considered that he was helping someone who might- in other circumstances- be willing to slit his throat.  

Indeed, part of him did want to turn around and leave.   But two things kept him riding along.

First, this man had hired an assassin to kill a woman in the streets.  That alone made the coward worthy of a bullet, regardless of who the woman he was targeting was. 

Second... it was clear that Maura needed to see a different side of the English.  She needed to know that there were good Englishmen.  Otherwise in ten years, she might be throwing firebombs at British citizens over the cause of Irish liberation... or raising sons and daughters to do so on her behalf.

The cycle of violence could only end if people reached across to...

Well, Roland's only applicable talent might be putting lead into a man, but everyone in this world had to contribute within the realm of their powers.

"I trust this crusade against the English is over?"  He asked the question hopefully, not convinced he'd get a favorable answer.

Wayfarer

"He probably did not want to invest in a good professional.  Though, finding someone who is willing to kill is the biggest hurdle in such matters.  Gratefully few men of any talent are prepared to simply murder someone for pay.  Fewer still are those who'd shoot a woman."

"Well the more she spends on such things, the less of his ill gotten gains he has left. But he is capable of doing anything, Emmett Brampton," she even said his name with visceral disgust.

She continued for some time til she finally thought she had informed him of the gist of why she was doing what she was. He was a good listener. He did have a question though.

"I trust this crusade against the English is over?"

She looked at him almost in surprise, "It will never be over for we Irish til our land be our own again. Til we have our own country. You English would do the same if you were occupied by a foreign invader."

"But that said.....I do not lump you in with your government. I would never have anything but the highest regard for you, your kindness, and even more, your admittedly foolish bravery to help me out here. I will be forever grateful.......that is if we survive," she declared and ended with a warm smile, "You be a good man, Roland Smith."

"Would you think me forward, if I call you Roland? You may call me Maura. If you be alright with such."

Roland considered what she'd told him.

So he was helping a revolutionary who would oppose England.  

But it was still right.   He felt that to his core.  The essential fact hadn't changed.  An assassin had come to kill her at Kalispell.  Whatever else was going on, that assassin and the man who'd hired him were not entitled to the air floating about the Earth.  Putting an end to them both would surely be a boon to God's creation.

And... at least Miss Walsh bore him no personal ill will.  It seemed her contention was with governments, not individuals.

Except for the individual named Emmett Brampton.

As she complimented him, he felt his cheeks warm.  He was not often spoken of in such terms.  It was precisely the image he craved to hold in the minds of others, so the words moved him not just because of her kind regards, but because they were validation for the sort of man he strove to present himself as.

"Well," Roland considered when the topic of names came up, "seeing as how we're about to murder together- however righteous the reason- it seems that standing on formality would be foolish. 

Maura.  Your name is lovely.  Please do call me Roland.  Or even... My friends used to call me Ro, or even Rolly.  You may have the dealer's choice, depending on what your tongue craves best."

He smiled at her now, suddenly feeling lighter in his saddle.  The weight of uncertainty seemed to have lifted from this quest.

Wayfarer

"Well," Roland considered when the topic of names came up, "seeing as how we're about to murder together- however righteous the reason- it seems that standing on formality would be foolish. "

"Well...murder? I suppose one can look at it that way. I call it justice. He killed a good man for the money. He betrayed his friends. He hired another man to kill me. But if you wish to think it is murder that I am chasing him for...I shall not argue it," Maura sighed.

"Maura.  Your name is lovely.  Please do call me Roland.  Or even... My friends used to call me Ro, or even Rolly.  You may have the dealer's choice, depending on what your tongue craves best."

The young Irish woman showed a lighter side now than the grim vengeful crusader as she smiled, "Oh Rolly? No you are not a Rolly. There is little dignity in that. Unless you are a young boy which you plainly are not."

"I shall content myself with Roland, it has ring to it. Like a knight of old. There is no short version of Maura of course.................but, I will tell you what me mum called me as a wean. Do not laugh at me now."

"Pest....she called me her little Pest. It was not out of anger...seems I hung about her all the time and got in the way not on purpose," Maura was grinning widely now at the fond memory.

"Now as for me cravin's....well, I have been too focused on this crusade to worry about me personal cravin's you see."

When she likened his name to that of a legendary Knight, he himself was sold on the superiority of 'Roland.'  It sounded good on her lips, in any event.

"Pest?"  Roland chuckled to hear it.  "I'm sorry, it came unbidden," he apologized for his mirth.

"There are worst things to be called, and with much less love," Roland recalled, "and I have known most of them."   He winked at her. 

"As for cravings, dear Maura... I don't know the point of all this is, if you can't enjoy it from time to time.  Don't get so wrapped up in your causes- whatever they may be- that you forget to savor the life you are working so hard to improve."

Easy advice from a man, perhaps, whom society had deemed capable of indulging in appetites without much in the way of consequence.   Women, meanwhile, were sorely constrained by expectations.  

Well, Roland would not squeeze himself into the company of those that stood in judgment.  

He'd rather be on the side of those that  indulged in their appetites from time to time.

Wouldn't want to put the churches out of business, after all, for lack of confessions to chew on.

Wayfarer

Despite her admonishment, he still laughed at her childhood nickname, Maura only pretended to be affronted though, "Fine then...Rolly."

He did apologize, probably not sincerely though. No matter. It was all done in jest.

"I accept your apology," she smiled, "Just this once though. I am not to be trifled with." If  she hadn't been grinning it might have even sounded threatening.

"There are worst things to be called, and with much less love," Roland recalled, "and I have known most of them."   He winked at her. 

"Oh indeed?" she raised one eyebrow. But would not prod.

"As for cravings, dear Maura... I don't know the point of all this is, if you can't enjoy it from time to time.  Don't get so wrapped up in your causes- whatever they may be- that you forget to savor the life you are working so hard to improve."

"Right now my life is hardly the sort to savor. But if we find him and I get my revenge...then who knows? I might even be happy once and awhile. I imagine you must have thought me quite the harpy back in your shop when we first met?"

She eyed him a moment, "I might even surprise you before this is all over, Roland."

Let the man make of that cryptic statement what he will. She could flirt as well as the next woman when she was of the mood to.

"Oh no," Roland said, "I've known my share of harpies.  You weren't that."

His mind briefly visited upon the pounding of angry fists against his frame, and a rapier tongue darting from an angry mouth.

"Though I can't say I've ever met a woman of such focus for violent thoughts.  Not even those I've seen kill a man."  It was one thing to kill in self-defense.  To raise violence while pressed in a moment of confrontation.  It was quite another to stoke a rage that lasted months and miles, with a keen eye to see it paid through in the end.  This was something new for Roland, and he did not know whether to be in awe of it or wary of it.

Or perhaps he did know.

He was still here, after all.  Awe had clearly conquered good sense.

"Though I can't say I've met any woman with equal cause for it, either."

Friend murdered.  Cause betrayed.  And now an attempted assassination.  Even if this had started as a plot for revenge, it was self-defense now.  She no longer had the luxury of letting old grudges die.  Not when the other side of this affair was hiring assassins.

"I might even surprise you before this is all over, Roland."

Roland's brows raised and he chuckled, "You've been doing that quite capably since the moment we met, Maura.  I don't expect that will abate any time soon."

He did take a moment, though, to imagine what other forms his surprise might take...

Wayfarer