“Yeah, I think thats the one.”

“Durn it.” The Marshal sighed. “How many?”

“I dunno, 50 tops. They are set up real well.”

“Probably used to breaking out into groups then? Diyu. Too much military.” The Marshal considered, then looked back down at Abby. “How’s she doing?”

“All things considered, better than she should be. Apparently bossman knew her from somewhere, he hasn’t let anyone touch her.”

The Marshal looked at her curiously.
“Who’s your boss?”

Abigail reached up and pulled her bandana off, it was mostly useless after what the Marshal had done, letting her ginger locks fall to her shoulders. “He’s a lot like you, he doesn’t want his identity revealed willy-nilly.”

“I know most everyone in these parts. Spare me the drama.”

"Ain’t gonna happen. I’ll tell you anything but.”

“Stubborn thing, aren’t you?” the Marshal mused. “You aren’t much use to me right now.”

“You are a Marshal, you don’t work with posses. Besides, bringing one down to that camp would only end in a blood bath, you know that. So the way I figure, you’ll have that sheriff with you and maybe one or two other fellas. You need another gun to even have a chance.”

“If you shoot anywhere near as well as you fight, I’m not interested,” the Marshal said, groaning and standing up, then offering her hand to Abby.

Abby laughed and accepted the offer of help.
“I’ve never had much use for fighting. I prefer to shoot my targets before they can get anywhere close to me. You didn’t give me much of an option, though.”

“Bit of advice, Ang Mo, a lot of times you don’t get a choice about getting in fights. Like now. Now beside telling me you think you can shoot, what else you know about my girl?”

“Her name is Charlotte, she’s scared, blonde, her brother’s name is Jed and you already know all this. Ang Mo, that's Chinese right?”