(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/b/ba/Sanrafael.jpg)<br/><br/>San Rafael, Texas.  There had been any number of places for Caroline to go from the Utah Territory.  North to Canada and the cold, east to the coast and so-called civilization, west to be late for the gold rush, or south.  There was opportunity to the south, for a quick gun or a person of questionable morals, and plenty of places to lose oneself.  What brought Caroline to San Rafael was known only to her, but the sun was just touching the mountains in the west when she topped a low hill and saw the town's lights glittering in the distance where it sat hunched against the Rio Grande.<br/><br/>The sound of a buzzing insects and the distant cry of a coyote was interrupted by the sudden crack of gunfire.  Caroline's horse shied at the sound, whinnying slightly as more gunshots followed.  It didn't take her long to spot the source even in the fading light.  The road she had been following curved into the town and, three or four hundred feet distant, a pair of horses were galloping in her direction.  The men on the horses were bent low, their silhouettes compressed and hidden as they tried to urge more speed from their mounts.  The rear of the two had a pistol in hand and was firing wildly behind him without so much as a glance.  Behind the pair, fifty or sixty feet back, a trio on horseback were in pursuit.  The lead rider had a rifle in hand and, if they fired, any stray bullet would be heading in Caroline's direction.  Luckily the trio seemed more intent on pursuing the pair in front of them instead of killing them and so far were holding their own fire.