She couldn't agree more but refrained from saying so, it would probably take a lot more than one shot of whiskey for her to finish the story. Was that what it was now? Merely a story, something to look back upon and learn from like some moralistic tale? Sarah kept her gaze riveted to the ground before them as they walked to the Sheriff's office. Her nightmares were still very real, the need for vengeance in her heart burning her up constantly, the anger that helped get her out of bed every morning instead of letting herself wallow in her grief and self pity was more than a simple story. It was her daily lot that she contended with so that when the time came, she could pull a trigger and take not one but three men's lives.<br/><br/>Stepping inside she removed her hat as he had done and glanced for a moment at the seat he indicated. Sarah waited for him to sit first, somehow knowing that he would not stand on ceremony and wait for a woman to sit first. No, not in this part of the world. Here it was every man, woman and child for themselves. The good got trodden on and the bad prospered. As he poured out two glasses she finally sat down, reaching her hand out slowly to take the drink he slid to her. His was downed in a matter of seconds while she simply stared at her own and to him as he spoke.<br/><br/>She had not told another living person of her ordeal before, had become dead to the world in fact for the marked grave where she had buried her husband had not just his name on it, but the name of their unborn child and her own. They had all died that day after all, she was just a ghost wandering the plains waiting to deal out justice. She didn't answer him, there was no need. Instead she drank his whiskey as if she were a pro, as if she had been drinking hard liquor all her life and her throat and stomach were immune to the stuff. In truth, it burnt right through her letting her know that she was still very much alive but she waited for the numbness that would follow for it always did and only then did she place her glass back down and begin to relate to him everything.<br/><br/>Sarah withheld nothing, not a single punch was restrained. Her beloved husband, the farm they worked together, the baby they were expecting. The simple hard life they worked so hard to maintain, all taken from them by the Castle brothers. Her features changed for a moment at the first mention of them, a grimace to indicate how much she despised them. She told of the gun shots and running outside to find her husband dead and from then her voice changed. Sarah spoke suddenly in the third person as if she were witnessing the events instead of being the one violated repeatedly. Still she left nothing out of the gang rape, the brutal beatings and the subsequent murder of the baby in her womb.<br/><br/>She told him of how she was left for dead and her struggle to return to her house hours after they had left, her struggle to survive and recover from her wounds. She omitted of course the unlikely hood of her ever recovering emotionally or mentally from what had befallen her family. The burial of her husband and the selling of their property, the subsequent trailing of the three brothers, all whose identity had been easy to come by. They had faces she would never forget and they were on most wanted posters in every town bar Oasis. At the end of her narrative she finally looked at him again.<br/><strong>"The only help I need from you is to teach me to shoot ... properly and fast so that I don't miss first time. I don't need anything else from you."</strong>