Charlotte frowned at the pine box comment, opening her mouth to say something, but Abigail spoke before she could. Once Charlotte heard what Abigail had to say, she abandoned her salty retort, raising her eyebrows instead. "Really? Why?"

"Honestly? Not entirely sure." Abby holstered her revolver and took a seat.

"I'm just here to keep you from signing your death sentence."

"Well, you don't have to worry about me. That was my one time running away. I'm done now." Charlotte wasn't entirely sure if she would be able to keep from running, but she was starting to see the truth in what Abigail was saying. Perhaps it was better to just wait it out.

"Good to know." Abby looked Charlotte up and down, judging the gal to be true to her word. "We are gonna try'n an make contact with the friendly Marshal of yours soon enough, the boss says she'll help us out."

"The Marshal?" Charlotte's stomach suddenly went off kilter. "Um, isn't there someone else you could talk to?"

"Not unless you happen to know of another federal agent conveniently located within a twenty mile radius of this here tent. What have you got against her anyhow?"

"Nothing. It's just, I know her personally, and I'd rather she not see me in this mess." Charlotte bit her lip.

"I might not be much older than you, Char, can I call you that? But I've learned a few things in my time. For one, a Marshal ain't gonna give a rip about personal feelings when a girl's been kidnapped. It's kind of her job. Second, if she does care at all about you, she'll want you back safe and sound. Finally, a wise man once told me that moochers can't be selective in their choice of assistance, or something to that affect. So no offense, but we need her help, a badge carries a lot of power 'round these parts."

"You can call me that." Charlotte considered this for a moment. "I can respect that. I don't look forward to it, but I understand." She shifted positions, trying to relieve her cramped muscles. She didn't want to think about what would happen when she saw the Marshal and Jed again, so she changed the subject to the first thing she thought of. "What I'm wondering is, how the heck did a girl my age end up here?"

Abigail bit her lip, she was supposed to be the one asking the questions here. "It's a long story. Boring, really."

Charlotte shrugged. "Well, as you already know, I'm not exactly busy right now. And I'm definitely in the market for something else to think about. So boring or not, tell away."

"You can blame it on my boss, when I was kid I got in a rough spot and lost everything. He did me a solid you know? Took me in, trained me and essentially raised me. Taught me everything I know. Which in comparison to everything he knows, isn't all that much, but it's enough." Thinking back to those dark days hurt. A lot. So she did wheat she always did and pushed the memories out of her head as quickly as possible.

"This job was about the money until you showed up. The reward for bringing this gang down isn't insignificant you know."

Charlotte nodded. "That's good. I'm glad he took you in. My parents died, but I had someone like that, too. It's nice when people who aren't related to you care about you like that." She felt a pang of guilt again about running away; if she could go back and change it, she would. The Marshal and Jed were probably worried sick.

As the conversation topic shifted to Meyer and his gang, Charlotte hugged her knees to her chest, thinking about how hard it had been to take them down already. "Yeah. Sorry, I guess I really complicated things. I hope it works out. If I can help in any way--even if just by staying out of the way, let me know."

Abby stood once again and laid her hand on Charlotte's shoulder, "You'll be okay kid, just don't try anything stupid." With that, she left the tent and went off in search of Daniel.

Having drawn the map in relatively good detail , Abigail took a step back and admired her work. "They are keeping her in a tent, on this side of their camp."

"This is all military styled camping," the Marshal said, looking over the map. "There used to be a gang that broke off from the Southern Cross that would hang around here--that was back when you were kids."

She glanced up at Jed, then back down.

"It could be possible this is the same group, just older."