The whisky was gone before the bullets.

Cort woke to a merciless sun that seemed intent on boring a hole through the one booted foot that was no longer shaded by the shallow indentation in the rock face where he'd flung his drunk body the night before. Some bedroom, he groaned to himself as he shifted, grunting every so often as he rose stiffly to a sitting position.

His eyes scanned the fire-white landscape.

Groaning and grunting loudly, he hoisted himself first to his knees and finally to his feet.

"To think I once found this romantic," he snarled to his horse. "Too many years ago. Ain't learned too much since, apparently."

He drunk deeply from the canteen after pulling its strap loose from the saddle that was only a few paces away but felt like a few miles. After a trail breakfast of jerky and more water, Cort considered his options. His horse needed watering. He could use real food. He felt sore, mournful and cut. Climbing into the saddle, he guided the horse to a nearby watering hole and then insisted on a route to the town of Benson. It wasn't that he was well-known in Benson, but he wasn't such a stranger. It was the closest town with a railroad station so the trip to and from Redemption for supplies and longer trips was not exactly a rarity.

The saloon in town was only slightly bigger than the one Horace ran in Redemption. Everything about it seemed more impressive, though. From the flocked walls to the girls.

A day sitting in the saloon brought no deeper answers to Cort. Even the girl who'd bounced on his lap and let him fondle her goods as long as he kept her supplied in drinks didn't do much more than confuse him for his physical reaction. In her bedroom, all his mind could do was go back to Mattie Silk.

The next morning found him used to the hangover, rougher and edgier. In his mind, images of Mattie and Ben festered until he found himself riding back out of town. This time, the bullets ran out before the whisky.

About a half bottle in, he found himself aiming the gun at the sun. And then he got absorbed in staring into an oblivion of light that splintered inside his eyes.

When he finally blinked, he could not see the gun he held but he could see clearly how easily he'd abandoned the people of Redemption. How he'd run from the obligation he had for them - to protect them from the very kind of men he'd let chase him away: his cousin Ben and Ben's gang.

"He'd like that," Cort whispered hoarsely. "Like sheep before the slaughter."

Eyes closed, he saw the people of Redemption as he knew them. The way they blossomed once Herod had died and then truly believed their lives were now their own. Once they trusted that Cort was not going to desert them, that he would stay and protect them. He had always known their allegiance to him came precisely because he had picked up the gun again, that his reputation with the gun kept at bay many of those who may prey on the town otherwise.

And in the last few months, he'd seen a different sort of life take hold in Redemption. A new resolve to rebuild the town to attract more commerce, more families, a softer future.

When he needed other men of the town to step up as deputies whenever errant gunslingers wandered into town, they'd always been there. They believed in Cort's ability with the gun but they also had a personal stake in protecting the town's future.

It was a different town than the one he'd first been hauled into by Herod.

It was his home now.

It was a town where the people liked him. Where they didn't judge him for his past but accepted him for the man they found today.

And yet, the peace of Redemption was fragile even still. 

All he needed for proof of that was the way the people had grown nervous and spooked when it flew around town that the Ben Wade gang was riding their way, hell bent to take on their Sheriff.

They had stood beside him when the threat came riding into Redemption, hadn't they? Everyone was watching him, following his lead, worried but determined to hold on to their town and support their Sheriff as he faced down the Wade gang.

Cort sighed as he sunk down to his haunches, eyes still screwed tightly shut, fighting to regain his sun-blinded sight.

Regret flowed over him. Shame. 

They'd believed in him, needed him - and he'd left them there. Why - why'd he left like that? Because Mattie Silk seemed so ripe to fall under Ben Wade's spell? Because it brought back the old bitter defeat when he'd been only a boy, suffered at the hand and mind of Ben Wade?

He was a man now. A man who'd once thought he'd seen human nature clearly, in all its shades and shifts. The difference between him as a boy and him as a man is that he'd been tested by fire and shaped by his own will. On the other side, he was no longer the Cort his cousin had known as a boy.

How could he let his cousin wipe that all away so easily?

He knew, didn't he, even while it was happening, that Ben was purposely evoking memories of his mother's weak nature that had left him alone to fight for his place in the family. It's why he'd gone after Mattie Silk. But this was not then and this woman was not his mother.

Is this really all he thought of Mattie? That she was so easily swayed? That if Cort made her see how he felt about her, she'd choose a bastard like Ben over his true heart?

Didn't he know better?

Didn't he?

After all these years, wasn't he man enough to put his childhood fears behind him?

Beyond all that, Cort knew one overriding reason he had to return to Redemption: he had pledged his life in service to the Lord. Once, his calling had been as a priest serving the orphanage at the mission. Now, it was as shepherd of the town of Redemption. Without his presence, its future was still uncertain.

With his belief in forgiveness and his skill with a gun, Redemption's souls stood a fighting chance.

Cort could not abandon them. He could not abandon Mattie.

Ben Wade touched at the iron bars of one of the cells inside the jail of Redemption. He felt the cold, the unyielding nature of their structure. He had spent some time locked behind similar bars. But there had never been a jail that had kept him prisoner for long.

Charlie watched his boss, cautious to break into the space Ben Wade always seemed to keep around him. What went through his mind at a time like this? Did he see a past incarceration's hardships - or did he see into what he feared the future held? He was a man impossible to read, even after all these years and all the shared hardships.

"He'll return. Have to be ready." Ben's voice broke into the moment. He turned to glance at his right hand man. "He wasn't really running away. I'd have been so disappointed if he had."

"What about our guns, Boss?"

"Well, someone has to see to the law when the Sheriff runs off. Seems to me, the folk of Redemption will be mighty grateful for our assistance. It'll be our good deed for their hospitality. Besides, wouldn't want my cousin's abandoning them to reflect poorly on the Wade name."

"And we need our guns to do that good deed."

"Exactly. Hand 'em out, Charlie. You give the orders."

"Where will you be, Boss?"

"I got a certain lady to calm."

As his boss left the jail, Charlie moved to the window, fingering the row of keys he'd found inside the jail after Cort rode away. Charlie watched his boss walk across the dirt road, his black-clad figure moving with the same confident stride he'd always admired.

Mattie Silk met Ben at the door to her shop. Even from so far away, Charlie could tell she was agitated just by the way her hands moved when she greeted his boss.

In his experience, Charlie knew Mattie stood not a chance when the Boss had her in his crosshairs. There wasn't a woman able to resist him. He grinned, shook his head, let out a sweet hiss of, "There she goes," as Ben followed Mattie inside her shop.

"Perhaps he heard another calling from his God, Mattie."

"Oh, Ben. You're always trying to excuse your cousin - but there's no excusing him just leaving us like this. Not even a word to any of his deputies."

"I think you're being mighty hard on Cort."

"No. For once I'm seeing clear. He never intended to stay. Thank the Lord we had you here when he did decide to leave. Like you said, you and your men are looking for a place to settle. A place to raise families. Redemption could be it, right?"

"I'd stay for you, Mattie, if for no other reason."

Ben's soft proclamation made Mattie's heart skip a beat. He was so close now, all he had to do was bend ever so slightly and he'd be able to kiss her. Mattie's mind flashed on a similar moment with Cort, when she'd been so sure he wanted to kiss her but he'd not done it. Now she realized, it'd all be one-sided. It'd all been her pining after, yearning for Cort - but he'd never felt that way about her. Maybe he really did like other men; that would explain a lot.

Not that he hadn't been kind to her. But, like Ben pointed out, there was a lot about Cort she'd never considered. How like Herod he'd been in wanting control of the town - even if Cort's reign over Redemption had been more benevolent than Herod's. Of course, Cort had been the driving force behind the rebuilding. People had rallied behind him, followed his lead.

He must have gotten bored with it all. Ben's arrival must have been just the excuse he needed.

She never expected that her admiration for Cort could be based on a shadow. She'd always believed she'd never met another man so good, so strong, so worth staking your future on. She'd loved him.

Had she really been so wrong? Had she never really known him?

She looked into Ben's face, at his soft smile, his earnest gaze. And then he moved, just a fraction, and she took in the tension in his stance, the way he seemed to be holding himself in check. He was looking to her for a signal. Only a true gentleman would treat her that way.

"I'd like to kiss you, Mattie. But if I start, I may not stop."

"I'd like to taste you, Ben."

His mouth crushed in over hers. His entire body seemed to swallow hers inside the clasp of his arms around her back. She felt devoured inside the kiss, eaten up by his desire. Nothing else guided her reaction other than letting go, living again, falling for his sure touch.

She had so longed for a man to love her like this. In her dreams, it had always been Cort. But if he wouldn't love her, then at least Ben was here. Even as Ben's hands raised her skirts and drifted enticingly over the bare skin he found along her thighs, Mattie couldn't help but close her eyes and wish it was Cort here with her.

The early morning sunshine, warm already but without the unforgiving burn of the later day, crept across the bed sheets and danced on the sleeping man's face. He stirred, groaning softly, kicking away the sheet to let the cool breeze from the open window touch his hot skin. It felt good to wake in a clean bed, his body rested, his hunger satisfied. He could stand a little more of this. Maybe the story he'd been spinning her hadn't entirely been to draw her into his web. This time he might even mean it. There were worse fates than this for a man.

Mattie left the stool where she was sitting primping her curls before a large mirror to return to the bed, hitching up the loose cotton and lace of her night gown, baring her slim white legs as she climbed over him. "Take it off!" he grunted. She compliantly pulled the gown over her head and tossed it onto the floor, easy in her nakedness.

His eye pruriently traveled down her slender body, letting the visual stimulation do its work on his physical state. He couldn't deny she did it for him. Her small breasts with their rose bud-tipped nipples were pert and delicate. He loved to crush them in his large hands, biting and rubbing his beard until he raised red raw patches on the ivory skin. It didn't seem to bother Mattie, who writhed under him in pleasure at his roughness. His hand reached out as his memory drove him; he ran his fingers across the soft flesh until she shivered sensuously and her nipples peaked for him.

Letting his gaze move down further over the flat swell of her tiny belly, he smiled as he observed her legs straddling him crudely, opening out her neat little sex to his view. He trailed his thumb down from her belly and ruffled up the thatch of red gold hair before drawing it down to slide through her moist pink folds. There was nothing quite like the feel and smell of  a woman. Her smooth skin pressed against his hairy belly brought the added stimulus. The urge to take her burned in him again. He couldn't get enough of this body.

With a grunt, he lifted her off him, throwing his legs out of the bed to urinate in the pot in the corner. Mattie fell back with a giggle and watched him as he loped across, scratching himself sleepily. He was a big man but well-shaped, his buttocks round and firm, his legs straight and strong, furred with light brown hair. Standing legs splayed, he splashed healthily into the porcelain, yawning. The domesticity of the moment appealed to her. She was already willing to do anything for this man who had come into her life and given her the company and protection that she craved. Not to mention the love. Ben Wade was a man who prided himself on his knowledge of a woman's body; she didn't need to make fake noises and wriggle fetchingly for him like she had done for most of the others. He drove her half insane with desire.

With her eyes narrowed seductively, Mattie stared openly as he crossed back to the bed, making little moues at him. He grinned and swung his hips, his thick meaty cock dancing about already half erect, jutting out at an ungainly angle. "You want some breakfast?" he muttered, throwing himself back down besides her. She answered by climbing back over him again, rubbing herself on his cock, catching it between their bodies.

"You just lie there and enjoy. You did enough last night. This morning's for you, Ben, honey..."

He lay back, his arms behind his head on the pillows while she gave him the benefit of her skills. What more could any man want than a beautiful lady in his bed who was demure and respectable, sweet natured and hardworking by day - and  a dirty little whore between the sheets. Mattie Silk was looking every day like a more appealing prospect. Maybe it was time to consider putting down some roots. A man needed a few sons. But it was just a vague passing thought as much part of the moment as the hot burn in his groin. Tossing her over, he parted her legs wide and settled between, already craving the feel of her tight wet pussy. He soon forgot anything but the urge to ram inside her until he found his release.

Later that morning, washed and fed, dressed in clean pressed clothes, Wade and Mattie strolled down the main street arm-in-arm. There was no point in hiding what was going on. Folks in this town had seen worse over the years than a man and woman openly flaunting what they were up to. Wade wanted it to be widely acknowledged that the lady was his anyway - just as the town would soon be.

As they walked along, Wade tipped his hat to acknowledge the greetings of those he passed. There had been a marked change of attitude in the past few days towards the gang who had ridden into town. Where the townspeople had expected trouble, the very opposite had occurred. The men were quiet, respectful and decent, even if they spent most of their time in the saloon or with the whores, keeping themselves to themselves. There wasn't anything wrong with that. They were spending their money and every cent helped the town rebuild.

Wade, however, was a different matter. He had made a positive attempt to involve himself with the locals, getting to know them by name and engaging them in conversations. He seemed eager to find out about what had happened in the aftermath of the death of John Herod, concerned about the wreck that had been left behind and interested in the rebuilding of the town. He observed it was a good time to settle there, be in at the start of this new future for a little town of promise, a time to start afresh and get things right from the beginning.

There had been a problem with the erection of the bell on the new church house that was under construction. Wade offered his men to add some muscle, even stripping off his shirt himself to join the other men of the town to raise the solid iron to its mooring on the roof. The women flocked around with food and cold drinks and the event had turned into an impromptu fiesta, the celebrations at the completion of their house of prayer seen as a sign of the return of godly living to this place that had been a living hell not so long ago.

"You need a padre," Wade had observed.

"We expected Cort would do the honors until we got someone in," one man replied. "He's been holding Sunday prayer meetings in the sheriff's office."

Wade shrugged. "Thought he'd lit out? When's he due back?"

They all shook their heads. The sheriff had just disappeared without a word. No one quite knew what to think. Maybe he'd just got tired of all the hard work and responsibility. Maybe he would be back. Who knew?

There was a strong suspicion that the arrival of Wade had been the trigger for Cort's departure. That had caused a fair amount of speculation. Most people were aware that Cort had a past as a gun slinger and fast draw. Obviously he and Wade were not on good terms. Cort had implied that the former outlaw was a real threat to the town and had stirred them all up ready for real trouble. It had all proved a lot of hot air. Wade might have robbed banks in his outlaw past but he wasn't a bad man. Very much to the contrary. He behaved like a gentleman and was attempting to go straight, using his influence to take his men along with him on a better path. Many of the townspeople themselves had a few skeletons in his or her closet. Surviving out there in the wilderness had asked a lot of them all and there were few who could in all honesty say that they hadn't made mistakes or been on the wrong side of the law at one time or another.

Wade was just another victim of the hard times they all lived in, no better or worse than they were - only more successful at what he had chosen to do for a living - robbing banks. If he was now trying to turn over a new leaf and settle down as a regular god-fearing citizen, then Redemption needed men like him. He was smart, courageous and he knew how to handle himself. Cort had done him a bad turn in trying to set them all against him, using his authority as a law man to wage his private vendetta against a rival. There had to be more to it than that. It smacked of the sort of behavior that they had endured under Herod.

Was the sheriff worried he might meet his match in the newcomer? They'd handed their town over lock stock and barrel to a man who, to be fair, had once been hand in glove with John Herod himself. Sure, they had broken long ago. Sure, Cort had been instrumental in removing the former sheriff and making life better for everyone. But who had he really been doing it for? Maybe this turn around was a warning to them that Cort, the avenging angel, might really have been just another devil in disguise. Some argued that was unfair after all he'd done for them, but others suggested a little bit of caution. It might be worth cultivating Ben Wade for a time and judging the two men together. It could reveal a lot.

And as it stood, Cort had taken himself off, anyway. If all they had left was Wade then the choice was made for them. They were lucky to have him.

It was into this atmosphere that Cort rode back that morning, looking like a man who had lived rough in the desert for more than a week and had consumed his fair share of whiskey and women. As his horse trotted back down Main Street with Cort slumped on the pommel of his saddle, dirty and weary from the trail, it seemed that roles were suddenly reversed. Ben Wade had just left his girl Mattie at her shop, kissing her cheek fondly, tipping his hat and strolling back down towards the telegraph office. He was brushed and dapper, his beard trimmed and his hair slicked back. Now who looked like trouble blowing in?

"Well, I'll be! If it isn't the sheriff himself back in town to do his duty and protect us all from bad hats. I sure do feel safer now you're here among us again. Why, me and my boys have been trying to keep a lid on things for the good people of Redemption but it's been an uphill struggle, Cort. You know how it is? Roughnecks with trigger-happy fingers rolling in dirty and sweaty, looking for trouble? Why, just then, I thought you was another one of them. I mean, you're dirty, sweaty, hung over, smelling of cheap whores and bad whiskey - and yet, I guess you could still draw that gun and put a hole in my head soon as look at me. Who could blame me mistaking you for trouble?  I thank the Lord we're on the same side, Coz..."

Cort eyed him up stony-faced, resting his hands on the pommel. "I ain't on any side you're on, Ben Wade. Let's just make that completely clear."

"That so? Then maybe you are bad news for Redemption after all, brother. I think you may just have lost the popular vote...Oh, and a word in your ear. Keep away from Mrs. Silk. She and I have what you might call an understanding. I don't take kindly to other men sniffing around my women...You hear?"

He replaced his hat, tipped it smartly and sauntered on down the street. Cort looked about at the bystanders who had been following the exchange with interest. He made an attempt to greet the people he knew but received only curt nods and questioning looks. It was as if Wade had cast a spell on them all. He'd left it too long, played into the bastard's hands, just like he always did, giving Wade the ability to claim the upper hand.

Cort bit down his anger and decided it was time to grow up and use the skills he had acquired in a lifetime of watching his back and surviving. He had a good brain - better maybe than Wade if he put it to use. He was going to work this one out and do nothing until he had a real plan. One thing he vowed to himself for sure. Wade would not win this time. Redemption would not fall into his evil clutches.

And nor would Mattie.

Standing before a mirror, its surface faded, Cort studied himself as if he were meeting a stranger. The light in the bathhouse was not exact; still, it showed him a man with sharp eyes. Nothing else about him, though, would have looked either alert or neat to another observer even if all the trail's grime had been scrubbed from his body.

He needed a shave. A haircut. Sleep. 

Sleep first. Shave, haircut later. 

Changing into the clean clothes he'd grabbed from his rooms before heading to the bathhouse, Cort allowed himself a tired if evil smirk. 

When he finished dressing, he made his way to the Sheriff's office the back way, purposely seeking to avoid any of Redemption's citizens. The die was cast; the sheep followed a different shepherd. Best to make it back to his rooms, tucked in the rear section of the building that housed not only his office but also the jail. There, he could sleep long enough to wear away the fatigue that was as much physical as mental.

Keep Wade guessing. When he was ready, and only then, he'd make his move.

Pausing once he opened the door, Cort sensed something inside the building had changed. Was there someone in there with him? Someone waiting on him?

His reaction was instinctive; his gun now in his hand as he walked silently into the main area of the Sheriff's office. It was early evening; the light had faded but not disappeared. He could quickly see, once he was fully inside, no one waited on him.

Cort shook his head and a wry grin appeared on his face at his own paranoia. And a moment later, he was unlocking the door that led from the back section of the jail area into his own rooms. Just as he stepped across the threshold, he stopped in his tracks. There was a bright slip of paper on the floor, as if it'd been slid under the door. It looked the size of a broadsheet.

He bent over it, his eyes calmly studying the paper's surface - a drawing done in chunky charcoal pencil.

Picking it up, he crossed to the table under the window and laid the paper there, turning purposely to cross back and close the door rather than really look at what was on the paper. Obviously, his cousin meant for him to be unnerved. No piece of paper, nor what was on it, would do the trick now. He wouldn't give it another thought.

Cort's place consisted of three rooms: a place to cook, a place to eat and read; and, a place to rest. Inside the bedroom, he stripped, tossing his clothes along the wall on the other side of the bed with its rough woolen blanket and coarse sheets. Before long, he'd plopped headlong into the bed, convincing himself that he needed sleep so badly that he'd be unconscious in seconds.

But sleep was not to be caught just then.

And he knew why. It was the paper he'd found under the door.

Grunting loudly, Cort hauled himself from the bed and walked naked into the where he'd left the paper on his table in the other room. He stood before the window and studied the image on the paper.

It was a picture of him. As he'd been when he'd been standing in the darkest, deepest shadow that night as Ben Wade strode past after beginning his seduction of Mattie Silk.

How had Ben really known he'd been there, waiting and watching? Cort's memory of that night was so visceral he could have reached his hand out and punched his cousin's knowing smirk as he'd walked past. Cort had imagined that his cousin's passing remark to him was just a shot in the dark - said "just in case" Cort had been there; not said because he'd actually seen him.

But looking at the picture gave him a second thought. Perhaps his cousin really had pegged his actions that night even before Cort took them. And when he looked at the picture, he saw exactly how he'd felt after witnessing Mattie's reaction to Ben. How had Ben captured that look unless he'd witnessed it?

Why had he drawn this particular picture of Cort? Why capture that instant in time? He knew Wade well enough to know there was a reason.

It came to him as his eyes drifted up from the picture to observe the outside world through filmy curtains as the sun began a slow descent. This window looked out into the desert and mountains behind the town.

Ben knew because Ben had set it all up - every single aspect - specifically to goad the boy inside Cort who still harbored the feeling of "not quite man enough" instilled by his cousin's torments while they were both so much younger.

But tonight, Cort saw what had been happening differently. Tonight, he was remembering the past few days through the inner eyes of a man who'd built an adult life that had defied the wounded boy he'd hoped no longer existed. Now, he could even see the many ways the boy had called the shots all these years even if he'd been physically nowhere near him. How he'd dreaded the possibility his cousin would ever find him again, that he would ever confront Cort man to man.

How he'd feared he'd never quite be man enough to take on Ben Wade and walk away with his soul intact.

He'd let that fear rob him of the satisfaction to have earned his place in life.

Parting his lips, Cort blew out a long, cleansing sigh. His clear eyes examined the picture his cousin had drawn of him again. That's when he saw a truth he'd missed.

In the picture, Cort was wearing the shirt he'd been wearing that night he'd walked in on Wade and his mother. But, pinned to it, was a Marshal's silver star. And his eyes were steadily staring in the direction not of Mattie Silk's shop but toward the empty space where Herod's house had once stood.

This went back too many years to count.

And it all hinged on only one thing: his cousin had miscalculated.

In the morning, Cort sat in the barber's chair in the building next to the mercantile. A hot towel covered his face, softening his beard. As the barber worked on another customer, Cort kept his mouth shut, listening to the town gossip being passed by the three visitors to the shop.

Ben Wade and his gang were the talk of the town. They'd become stalwarts virtually overnight. Where hadn't they helped? Who hadn't witnessed the advantages of their strong backs and open purses?

This was all a game. Wade was moving carefully; Redemption his chess board. And Cort realized he was one move from being the King check mated. He relaxed further behind the covering of the hot towel. What his cousin had failed to truly understand was that Cort, as opposed to Ben Wade, had never sought to be King of anything. But he did stand for something now.

When it came his turn for the shave and cut, Cort's impassive stare out the open door ignored the gossips, who seemed to have talked themselves out. He nodded when asked if he wished cologne water used as the finishing touch. To those watching him, that nod was so casual they would have been forgiven for presuming Cort didn't truly care one way or the other whether the cologne had been used.

But they would have been wrong.

Maybe an hour later, Cort paced slowly inside the Sheriff's office. On his desk was the picture his cousin had drawn of him and left for him as a further taunt. It had not had the hoped for impact on him.

When Mattie Silk stepped from her shop, Cort stopped pacing. By the time Mattie strolled along the walkway, Cort was casually leaning in the open door of the Sheriff's office, gazing placidly out over the small town of Redemption.

Mattie had heard the day before that Cort had returned, rough and hung over. For a reason she could not quite place, it had caused her a sleepless night. She hadn't even minded that Ben had begged off last night. Seeing Cort back at his building, lounging there gave her a sense of déjà vu. It was as if the clock had been sent back to so many days before - to the days she'd been eating her heart out and hoping he'd love her; to the days before Ben Wade had ridden into town; to the days before Cort had deserted Redemption only to return in bad shape the day before. As she saw him looking so much as he once had not that long ago, she felt again the immensity of her unnamed worry over the changes in Cort that had been reported to her by those who'd seen him ride into town the day before.

Though he may not have turned into the lover she had longed to have share her bed and her life, Cort had always been good to her and this town. What had happened to chase him from Redemption only to see him return apparently broken down? That's what had bothered her all night, what had kept her up fretting and anxious. She had planned this morning to find Cort, to help him, to nurture him back to some strength. She had expected to help him see that Ben Wade could be his salvation, not his nemesis. Cort could look to his cousin for help, just like everyone else in Redemption had begun doing, including her.

As she crossed the dusty street toward the walkway that would take her to the Sheriff's office, she noted Cort was staring off in the opposite direction from her. It gave her license to study him even as she climbed the steps up onto the walkway and turned in his direction.

He looked ... good. Relaxed. Strong. Sober.

And then his gaze turned as he scanned the main street of Redemption. Before Mattie could drop her eyes demurely, he'd seen her as she walked toward him down the wooden planks.

Her breath caught deep in her gut at his reaction to seeing her.

Cort smiled, slowly, softly. And he straightened ever so slightly - but enough to tell a woman that he was glad to see her.

When she neared enough to speak, he bowed ever so gentlemanly toward her.

"Miss Mattie. Always a sight to brighten any morning." Cort's voice was deep. His tone confident.

She blushed and chided herself mentally for the reaction. "Cort! It's so good to see you. I had been worried."

"Had you, Mattie? Or are you just flirting with me?" The giggle that floated out of her was more nervous relief than anything but it made him shake his head and wag a finger at her. "Now, Mattie, if you don't stop looking so pretty, you're likely to make a man do something embarrassing. Say, would you care to step inside and let me treat you to a cup of coffee?"

He wasn't normally like this with her. There were always flashes of this lighter side of Cort but it struck Mattie as singularly curious that, given what had been happening both before and after Ben's arrival in Redemption, that the morning after Cort's return she would find him in such a rare mood.

So when he bowed her through the Sheriff office's door, she entered before him without more than a momentary hesitation. Once inside, she looked around for the coffee pot but instead her eyes met his as he strode toward her.

"I was hoping for a private word, Mattie," he whispered, his mouth almost at her ear as he stepped immediately in quite close. Her chin rose as her eyes sought to maintain their contact with his. He loomed over her, his fingertips gently stroking over the line of her jaw. "Words I been longing to say ..."

"Have you?" Her voice was a heated gasp.

Tension crackled between them. Her back arched as his other hand touched her waist.

"When I was gone, did some heavy searching of my heart. Know who I found in there? You, Mattie. Always you. Always has been."

"Me? But Cort ..."

"Always wanted you, Mattie. Just thought I had to be careful - didn't want you to think I was moving too fast. Always wanted it to be so perfect when we'd come together."

"I never knew. I always hoped ..."

Now his palms cupped both her cheeks. He lingered, staring into her eyes. He licked his lips as hers parted, moist and waiting on him. His thumbs stroked over the delicate skin along her temples. "The only reason I came back to Redemption was you, Mattie. To claim you. To love you."

All that was in her head was the realization that the long dream she'd had of hearing just these kinds of words from Cort was now true. He held her, needing only the force of words and eyes full of desire. Any other man no longer existed for Mattie. No other man could have said those words and made her believe them.

When he bent to kiss her, she nearly swooned at the power of his moves. He simply took her lips and played with them, devouring first the top and then the bottom, as if sampling a feast he wanted to savor fully. When at last his tongue dipped between her lips, she was beyond thinking rationally. All she wanted was for the kiss to last forever as it deepened and turned from exploration to a devastating claiming of her body.

She turned feverish in response, her hands thrusting into his hair, dragging his mouth down more forcefully. Her body molded into his as he bent her over his desk.

Cort pulled his lips from hers, making a husky and indecent moan of masculine need.

"Be with me, Mattie." His husky voice made it a plea, as if he would die without her, right then and there. "If I can't be inside you right now, I'll explode. That's how bad I want you."

"I want you just that bad, Cort ... oh, please!"

He lifted her then, carrying her to the back of the office and then kicking open the door to his rooms, he took her into his inner sanctum. And all the while, they kissed and held each other as if to let go would make the world stop spinning.

Neither stopped until they were in his small bedroom. He set her down even as he used his heel to slam the door shut. And then they were stripping each other, desperately seeking to touch bare skin, circling and circling in the intimate dance until at last he picked her up and tossed her atop his mattress. He crawled in over her, her hand reaching out to cup his hard cock, a graphic welcome to what she craved.

Muttering against her ear, he eased in between her legs. She moaned and writhed beneath him, wanting him inside her. But Cort was stronger by far. So he ignored her pitiable groan when he didn't immediately plunge into her wetness. Instead, he feasted for long and excruciatingly tantalizing minutes at her breasts, while his fingers explored her sex and his masculine pride at her reaction only heightened his own desires to possess her.

Sitting up from her, he watched her half-closed eyes as she caught her breath from the initial orgasm his fingers had pulled from her body. As her breathing slowed, she smiled up at him. He slowly pulled his fingers from her sex. Her eyes opened wide and she made a strangled gasp of his name as she watched him put those fingers inside his own mouth, close his eyes, and suck her essence across his taste buds.

He grinned at the pleasure of tasting her, relishing the sweetness of her arousal.

But he only gave himself a fleeting moment to savor where he was at long last. When he opened his eyes and looked down at her, his gaze was now pure and unadulterated masculine predatory intent. She shivered and reached for him, spreading her legs wide, raising her knees as he settled in. Stroking his erect penis, Mattie's hand led him to her opening. She pushed in the tip but then Cort pulled her hand away.

He bit his lip, forcing himself to wait at least a heartbeat before he pushed into her. He went in slowly, inch by inch. Letting her feel every detail of the experience of being widened to accommodate his girth.

When he hilted, they both grunted. He pushed her knees up higher, to give himself just a bit more leverage to get in as deeply as he thought possible. When he began to thrust, the tempo was slow, even. As he continued, sweating and thrusting, the rhythm was faster, stronger. The bed thwapped against the wall, keeping time to his powerful thrusts.

Each time he hilted, Mattie's back arched and she ground back against him, squirming and slippery wet with her own sweat.

Before long, neither was aware of anything but their two bodies and what those bodies most needed - to come. They drove each other, until the bed was squealing and anyone walking into the Sheriff's office could not have ignored the meaning of all that pounding on the adjoining wall.

When she came, Mattie called Cort's name and uttered love to him as her voice died away. As he came, his hoarse voice came in grunts, his own words of love almost painful in their openness from such a strong and private man.

For so long after, they held each other in the small bed. Neither spoke. Eventually, they fell asleep, exhausted emotionally and physically.

And unaware that their final moments had not been private.

For Charlie Prince had witnessed Mattie Silk entering the Sheriff's office. And when she had not come out after what seemed a decent amount of time, he'd gone to reconnoiter. By the time he'd peeked inside the open doorway, the office was empty. Curious, he'd entered on tiptoes. No one was there. He walked in further. Just as he noticed the open door in the rear of the office, he heard unmistakable sounds of passion from the other side of the wall. He stood at the open doorway to Cort's rooms, gazing in, listening to the moans and cries that punctuated the sound of the bed hitting the wall.

When the sounds ceased, Charlie stepped back, closing the door softly. He left the Sheriff's office and stood on the wooden walkway outside, gazing first one way, then the other.

They'd pay for this. That much he knew.

He found his boss at the church, meeting with several of the town's men. Charlie stood off to the side, his hat cocked down nearly over his eyes. He waited patiently, listening to the talk of ordering a bell for the new steeple. He never questioned his boss, knowing Ben Wade had a reason for everything, even if it made no immediate sense to him. So even though he couldn't for the life of him quite figure out why Ben was continuing to go through with this charade that he cared about this town's future, Charlie knew there would be a reason and someday he'd understand it.

Eventually, the meeting ended with handshakes and Ben's promise to seek a way to get the town a bell for the steeple, to call the faithful to services. 

"Now that Cort's back, let's put him in the one place he professes to most want - a church. Right, Charlie? Don't know about you, but I get some tired listening to how hard it was on him to pick up the gun again." Ben wiped his hands on his vest as he joined his right hand man.

"You think he'll stick around Boss?"

"Not as sheriff. Not if we can help it."

"As preacher, then?"

"Not if we can help it."

"But you just said ..."

"We can't appear to be running him off. He has to leave of his own accord. And the faster, the better."

"Will we stay here, Boss?"

Ben looked up the street, his eyes narrowing as he studied the still rebuilding Redemption. "There're worse places, I suppose. Could be a good center of operations for us. And with one of us as Sheriff, there'd be some cover of law if we ever have problems with any of our little jobs."

Charlie considered telling Ben Wade about Mattie. And about Cort. But he decided that tale was not going to be one he ever delivered. Far better for Ben to witness the evidence for himself. Better for Charlie since Ben couldn't be expected to react well to any man delivering news that would gut his manhood in that particular way. And better for the gang - for it was probably going to mean a reign of terror on this town before they robbed it blind and lit out. The men were all getting anxious - they weren't used to the Boss relaxing the way he'd been in Redemption, as if he might just stay here and call it home.

So Charlie determined right then and there to arrange it for Ben to witness some evidence of what had just transpired between Cort and Mattie.

He strolled with Ben to the saloon where they quenched their thirst, played some cards and passed a bit of time.

Eventually, Charlie decided he needed to prod Ben into deciding to go check on Cort. His question to the table seemed casual enough. "Anyone seen the Sheriff today?"

As Ben glanced out the window toward the building where Cort lived and worked, the others murmured to the negative - no one'd noticed the Sheriff at all that day.

"Wonder when he'll show himself?" one of the other men asked, snickering.

"Never thought much of any man who'd hide like a scared girl," Charlie said, his eyes on his cards. "Guess he really don't have much Wade blood in his veins. Boss'd never back down to any man."

More murmurs, this time in agreement.

"Perhaps I should check on my dear cousin," Wade said, smiling benignly around the table. "He's going to have to learn to deal with the new order to Redemption soon. Starting with his days as Sheriff. Something tells me, the good people of this town no longer want Cort to be their Sheriff."

"They don't?"

"Well, this is what the men this morning were telling me. Seems they don't think too highly of a man who simply walks away from his office with no explanation. They were asking me if I might know of someone who'd be a bit more of a strong, valiant Sheriff. The kind they feel they need to keep bad men away from their town."

"What'd you say, Boss?"

"I said Charlie Prince would be my choice, if I were making it alone."

Charlie looked up sharply. Boss was suggesting he take over as Sheriff of Redemption. The idea pleased him.

"Boys, deal me out, will ya? I'll just go pay a visit to Cort. Let him know his days as Sheriff are over. Let's see how that strikes the good man of the Good Book."

After Ben left the saloon, the card game continued. Talk was animated - imagine this town turning over everything that made it safe to the Wade gang? But Charlie Prince was not paying attention to the chatter. Instead, he was watching over his shoulder, looking out the window, observing as his boss walked toward the Sheriff's office.

Ben hadn't quite made it there when Cort appeared in the doorway. Ben had stopped to pass a few pleasantries with two of the matronly ladies of the town so he didn't immediately see Cort. But he did glance up in time to see Mattie Silk walk out of the Sheriff's office.

He also saw the way she ran a nervous hand over her hair, a fruitless gesture to smooth it down. He witnessed what happened next: Cort reaching for her hand, pulling it to his mouth, kissing the fingers lightly before releasing it. Mattie's blush deepened her cheeks in a most becoming manner as she turned, walking with her chin up and her clothing rumpled, heading back toward her shop.

There wasn't a doubt in the mind of anyone who'd witnessed the exchange just why Mattie's hair was so disheveled or her clothes not quite as crisp as they normally were. Nor why she walked in that particular lilting way.

Or why Cort turned to gaze about him with the look of a lion basking in the sun after a successful hunt and kill.

Ben walked a few steps away from the women. He gazed calmly at the scene before him. When his cousin finally saw him standing there, he wiped a hand through his long hair and stared at him evenly, lazily.

Gazing back, Ben's eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips. Something inside him felt a momentary and hard jolt at the realization that Mattie Silk had just cheated on him with Cort.

Cheated on him? As if he'd thought they'd had an actual future? Had he really let himself, even for a second, think he was ready to settle into something that could be an ordinary life, with a woman and home and family?

Lesson learned. He was nothing if he was not a survivor. This was not something he would not only survive but vanquish.

Fair enough. So Cort'd won the girl. Today. They were all fickle anyway. Man can't count on any woman being truthful. Men you could figure out, understand, learn what made them tick.

And Ben Wade had Cort figured out.

He tipped his hat to his cousin. 

Cort continued to stare at Ben, his chin up, his face satisfied and firm.

All right then. A new, more interesting battle in the war was now openly declared. Ben Wade knew one thing - Cort might have been able to turn an empty headed girl around and get her into his bed, but when it came to manipulating and orchestrating the other people of this town, he stood not a chance. Not against Ben.

He might have been willing to take it a little easy on his cousin - but that was before Cort had challenged him in this particular way.

Now Cort would see - the town of Redemption was no longer his home and the people here, if they had to choose, were going to choose Ben Wade over him. The only person in Redemption, as it would turn out, who might choose Cort was the woman who'd just slept with him. Of course, she'd been in Ben's bed the night before Cort returned so just how loyal was she?

She didn't matter, not really. Not when every one else in the town was against Cort - and for Ben.

If Ben handled the next maneuver exactly right, this time when Cort rode out of town, he wouldn't be coming back. Ever. He'd desert Redemption like he'd deserted every other place Ben Wade had ever made too hard for Cort to live in.

And Ben Wade was the one man who knew just how to manipulate Cort into leaving for good.