Her heart hammered loudly in her chest, this was it. This was all she had planned, all she had been training for so why was she nervous, why did she feel as if her throat were so dry it would close up and kill her? The dress was neatly folded over her arm as she made her way to the Marshalls home and once again like on many occasions opened the door and let herself in without waiting to be told. She was always amazed at herself for making herself feel so at home here, she also hated herself strongly for it.<br/><br/>Entering the kitchen she saw him there, he looked completely different as if he were just a normal cowboy going about his business. It tugged at her heart but she stiffened and made her presence known.<br/><strong>"I returned the dress. I should not have taken it without your permission ... I went to church earlier"</strong>she told him, not exactly sure why she had to say anything. Her gaze fell to the weapons on the table and knew he was preparing for the following day. She would too but her nerves were raw and she was so afraid that she would back down now. She didn't want to, they had taken everything from her - tomorrow was supposed to be her revenge, their penance, her retribution.<br/><br/><strong>"I'll hang it back up"</strong>she told him moving to the master room once again as if she were as familiar with it as she had been her own. There was so much about this man that she didn't know and part of her wanted him to tell her, to share his own ghosts as she had shared hers but that was for him to disclose without her haranguing him. The dress was placed back inside the wardrobe, her hand gently touching the fabric. Her days of wearing these things was long gone, she shouldn't have worn something that belonged to a dead woman but then wasn't she herself dead? Hadn't the woman, the mother, the wife that she had been died the day the Castle brothers murdered her husband and unborn child, raped her and left her for dead.<br/><br/>The woman standing here was a far cry from that one, she felt her throat constrict and her hands shake. Was she utterly dead inside? Was she no longer a woman because they had taken it all from her? Could she ever love, feel, touch again? Would killing them bring anything back? No ... but what of the answer to all the rest. Sarah turned her head in the direction of the door and moved quietly back to the kitchen. Removing her hat she swallowed hard, not sure what she was about to do but spending this night, possibly her last on earth alone was not an option she wanted.<br/><br/>Her hat landed on the table atop some of his guns, her hands shook and her legs trembled. Beneath her poncho was simply her bare skin, her leather trousers and gunbelt. She lifted the poncho up and off her head, her full rounded breasts pimpling with goosebumps when she did so, the cool air and the friction of the woolen cloth had already teased her nipples to hard nubs.<br/><strong>"If this is to be my last night ... share it with me."</strong>