<br/>As the strong hand reached out and gripped her arm, Sarah's face became a mask of fear and loathing. She willed herself not to scream at the intrusion of a touch she had not welcomed but try as she might the flinch had been evident on her face, the anger and fear could not be hidden from those eyes of hers. Her hand instinctively wanted to reach for her gun but that was in the room with her clothing. His words were the only thing to halt her scream, to still the foot that was raised to kick his shin.<br/><br/>The low tone, the actual words ... all were unexpected and as she looked at him, he looked away. Her breathing was ragged, unsure of herself around this man but she was grateful when his tone returned to its usual stern reproachfulness and her arm was finally released. She watched him leave the room, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. Reminding him of his ex-wife had been the last thing she had thought to do.<br/><br/>Her hand reached over to massage the part of her arm where he had gripped her. Plenty of time he had said but she didn't think so. Time was of the essence, the Castle brothers were notorious for getting themselves into trouble that it was a wonder they hadn't been shot down before now. It was only a matter of time, gathering the skirts to the dress she moved back to the bedroom and tugged and pulled until the dress hitched to the ground at her feet again. Tears stung at her eyes and she kicked the dress away.<br/><br/>She couldn't go back to wearing those things, they reminded her far too much of a life they had torn from her. Letting her breathing calm she slowly gathered the garment up and hung it back inside the wardrobe again before glancing at the pressed shirts and trousers on his side. He was bigger than her but so had her husband been, nothing a belt could not fix.<br/><br/>Sarah took out a cream shirt and pin striped dark trousers, she pulled them on and taking her own belt tightened them to fit, the shirt tucked inside the trousers. A loose knot was put in her hair that hung over her shoulder and she gathered up her own clothing to wash. She did so quietly and hung them outside where the evening air could blow at them. With gun and holster again attached she moved around to the back of the house.<br/><br/>A fence in need of repair lined the perimeter and picking up a log she stood it atop one of the pickets. The shots rang out first one and then two, the first shot skimmed past the piece of log while the other missed it completely. She swore and blamed the darkening sky, but she wanted to be able to shoot no matter the conditions, no matter what. Rolling the barrel on to the next chamber she steadied her hand to shoot again, picturing the face of Brody Castle as she took aim and fired.