Jack Swanson grimaced as he watched his daughter carry on with the Pinkerton agent as if they were married. Disgust for his daughter's actions grew inside him and festered, making him want to lash out at both of them. Lydia was just as much a harlot as her mother had been.

He could tell by how Agent Drake's body had stiffened that the man knew Jack was in the room. Now was the time to let them both know that he was in control and would be from now on.

"Aren't I invited to the weddin'?" he snickered and walked closer, aiming his gun at Nicholas Drake.

The man's head snapped up, and he glared at Jack. This made him laugh harder. He enjoyed surprising people before killing them. Although he hadn't killed many people, he had sent his fair share of lawmen to the grave. Jack would enjoy beating the life out of this particular agent, especially now that he had soiled Lydia's reputation beyond repair.

Slowly, Agent Drake moved off Lydia and pulled her up beside him. Her chest rose and fell with fast breaths, and she glared at him nearly as fiercely as Nick was doing. She resembled her mother so much. Jack recalled when he'd caught his cheating wife with another man. She glared at Jack the same way Lydia was looking at him now.

"Surprise," Jack exclaimed with a touch of humor in his voice. "I'm sure neither of ya figured I'd be here."

"Jakeson," Nick said in a calming voice. "We meet again. But now you're on my territory."

Jack laughed and shook his head. "Looks to me like I'm the only one with the gun." He glanced over the agent quickly. "Ye ain't wearing yer holster."

Nick raised his hands in surrender. "True. I don't have a weapon. However, to make this a fair fight, you should put down your gun, too."

"Now, why would I do somethin' foolish like that?" Jack rolled his eyes. "Ya must think I'm pretty dumb, don't ya?"

"I know you well enough, Jakeson, to believe you want something from me. Why else would you have returned to see if I was alive? And I know you enjoy torturing your victims."

Jack nodded. "Ya know me well, Agent Drake. And havin' ya alive does create a problem for me."

"Why is that?" Nick arched an eyebrow.

"Because I have a reputation for beatin' agents within an inch of their lives so that they can tell the other agents not to mess with me."

Nick chuckled. "Do you honestly believe that's what we would do? True, we tell each other how you bested us, but we don't run from a challenge."

"So, when I kill ya, maybe the other agents will know not to mess with me." Jack lifted his chin higher. "Thank ya kindly for lettin' me make an example out of ya."

"This argument," Nick said, still using the same calming tone of voice, "is between us. Let the lady leave the cabin."

"Leave?" Jack belted out a laugh. "What kind of father would I be if I turn my daughter away from seein' her old man take care of the man who wants to ruin her?"

"My father?" Lydia jumped up and stepped by Nick. "You, Jakeson, have no right to call yourself my father!"

Jack wasn't sure if he was hurt by her words... or just really annoyed with her outbreak. He hadn't raised his girls to be so disrespectful, and it angered him that she had not only turned out like her harlot mother but that Lydia – who had once been the quiet daughter – had a sore attitude now.

Like Mother like daughter.

* * * *

Lydia couldn't care less about the gun in the outlaw's hands. She wanted to spit in his face and claw his eyes out. And, if given a chance, she would surely do it.

"You lost your right to be my father," she continued, stepping closer to him, "when you beat our mother and then left us night after night to get stinking drunk."

Although this was the man who had been her parent at one time, he didn't resemble the father she used to know. Then again, she had pretty much erased most of her memories of him. Life without him had been so much happier.

He threw her a glare. "Have yau forgotten that I don't allow my daughters to talk to me in such a way?"

Lydia folded her arms. "And have you forgotten that you are not my father? My father is dead, and I would like him to stay that way."

The older man's mouth tightened so much that it turned white. She recalled that look from years ago. This was the point where he finally released his temper and beat her mother. He had looked this way right before beating Racheal.

Perhaps she shouldn't yell at him. She was only encouraging him to fight back. Since he was the only one with the weapon at the moment, she shouldn't get him all fired up.

Immediately, her mind cleared of the hatred and anger she felt toward this man. Earlier today, while Nick was making them lunch and she had sat on the couch, she had worried about the outlaw coming here. She hadn't been able to get rid of the worry, so without Nick knowing, she found one of his guns and hid it under the couch cushion.

Excitement grew inside her. They did have a weapon. However, she wasn't on the couch any longer. She needed a reason to sit back down. Unfortunately, she couldn't only think of one way to get her there.

She stepped closer to Jack, fisting her hands as her heart hammered in fear. He had hurt her once, and she hoped he'd try it again.

"Lydia." Nick's voice sounded worried. "Come over by me. You don't know what Jakeson is capable of."

"Actually, I do," she told Nicholas over her shoulder but kept her gaze on Jack. "But he doesn't scare me. He boasts about being my father, even if he never once played the part, so I think the fool won't dare lift a hand to me."

Jack's face reddened, and anger shone in his eyes. "Think again, little missy!"

He raised a hand to her, and she stiffened, knowing it would hurt, but it was what she needed to have an excuse to return to the couch. Nicholas' frightened voice lifted as he called out to her. But Jack's fierce blow to her face happened before the man she loved could stop it.

Pain exploded in her face, and she fell back to the couch. She quickly covered her throbbing cheek and jaw as she glared at Jack.

Nicholas cursed and lunged toward Jack, but he lifted the gun and pointed it at Nicholas' head.

"If ye were smart, ye wouldn't move another inch," Jack told Nicholas.

She sobbed softly, but mainly for show. She couldn't have either man figuring out her plan.

Nicholas's breathing had increased, and his nostrils flared. He glared at Jack, and if anyone could kill a man by just looking at them, Jack would have been dead by now.

"Tell me what you want, Jakeson," Nicholas snapped. "This game of yours must stop today."

"Oh, it will definitely end today, and of course, I'll be the winner."

Nicholas shook his head. "Is that all this means to you? Something you can win at?"

"Ya know, Agent Drake, there aren't many things in my life that make me happy. Robbin' trains without gettin' caught is one of them. Beatin' a man until he's ready to die is another one. I thrive on torutin' people. But I also love the victory when I come out the winner." He took a deep breath and smiled. "It's a sense of accomplishment. When everythin' else in my life has failed, this has not."

As Jack explained things to Nicholas, she slowly slid her hand in the separation between the couch cushions. She took her time, hoping that the slower she moved, Jack wouldn't see her. Thankfully, her plan was working – so far, anyway.

She prayed Nicholas would keep Jack's attention until she could grasp the butt of the gun. Although she didn't like shooting a gun, she would do it today to save the man who meant the world to her.

Her heart hammered out her anxiety over the situation, but she tried to stay calm. Being over-anxious wouldn't help at this point.

"As I said before," Nicholas continued to calmly discuss things with Jack. "Put your weapon down, and we'll fight this out like real men." He cocked his head and narrowed his gaze. "And there won't be any dirt to kick in my face that will obstruct my vision this time."

Jack laughed loudly. "Oh, so yer blamin' the dirt for fightin' like a sissy-boy?"

"Let me show you, Jakeson. I'm sure I won't disappoint you."

"No, I'm not goin' to put down my gun." He steadied his aim toward Nicholas' head. "Real men fight with guns."

She didn't like the look of determination on Jack's face. He wanted to punish Nicholas, and in doing so, the outlaw would kill him just to prove that it could be done. Lydia wouldn't let that happen.

"That's it?" Nicholas questioned. "You're not going to torture me?"

Jack snickered. "I think when I beat ya nearly to death, that was torture enough."

It was now or never. Jack would kill Nicholas if she didn't do anything.

She yanked the gun from between the cushions and pointed it at Jack. Just as she pulled the trigger, Jack fired his gun at Nicholas.

She watched in slow motion as the man she loved dropped to the floor. Screaming, she jumped off the couch and fell beside Nicholas. Just then, Jack fell backward, knocking his head on the coffee table. Blood spilled from his chest. Gasping, he clutched his shirt. The blood coated his hands quickly. He lifted his hands as not believing they were bloody and then threw her an accusing stare.

Jack's gun had fallen to the floor, closer to her than to him. She scrambled to get it, just in case he still had the strength to try and shoot her, too.

Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her back. She gasped and looked over her shoulder. Nicholas protectively wrapped her in his embrace as he stared at Jack.

"Did he shoot you?" Nicholas asked.

"No." She glanced over his face, neck, and chest. "Did he shoot you?"

Nicholas shook his head. "I dropped before the bullet from his gun could touch me." He looked toward Jack again. "But I see you found a gun somehow."

She nodded and breathed slower. Relief shook through her as she watched Jack Swanson take his last breath before his body lay still. "I hid the gun in the couch cushions while you made lunch. I..." She swallowed hard. "I didn't trust my father."

Nicholas kissed her cheek. "He's not your father. Remember that."

She looked upon the man she loved and smiled. "You are correct. My father died a long time ago."

Sighing, she leaned against Nicholas, enjoying the comfort of his embrace. Finally, this was over. There was no reason for Jack Swanson to ruin their lives ever again. Now, she needed to concentrate on her wedding.

Tomorrow couldn't get here soon enough.