Daylight and the cool morning air broke through the opening of the abandoned mine shaft that Jackson inhabited from time to time.  Life on the trail was not conducive for putting down roots, so he found this shaft and stored items that he could not take with him.<br/><br/>Jackson rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he peered out into the open with a wary eye.  He left in the dark knowing that the townfolk would have no earthly idea where he was headed.  Town was near five miles away and only two people knew of the hidaway, and he was certain that neither would willingly give up the information.<br/><br/>He stretched out the aches and pains from the short sleep on the ground and began to replay the events of the night before.  He was not sure just exactly where everthing went to hell in a hand basket, but he knew that he had his work cut out for him to set things straight.  First he had to get some information about the devil, King.  One thing the Rangers taught him was, the more you know about the lawless, the better chance you had to stay alive.  A fact that had helped him more than once in his bounty hunting.<br/><br/>Once satisfied that he was alone on the slope side of the ridge, he grabbed extra ammo and a Winchester from a stash and headed out to where he left the horse.  The magnificent animal grazed on some long grass when he approached.  He mounted the steed and pulled the reigns sharply to the north and gave it a little kick in the flanks.  He planned on riding the ridge to keep his distance from town.  He would make his way ten miles north of town to the Gunderson homestead.  He knew Albert, his almost father in law, would believe in him and give him any help possible.  He thought about Jeb, Sarah's baby brother, and figured that he was probably about twenty now, then he thought about Marianne's hot apple crisp pie and gave the horse another little kick to get him set to a trot.<br/>