A/N For all the towns that have come and gone…"Martinsdale" is supposed to be one of them. If such a town in California exists, I do not know it.

A/N This story follows my short piece "The End Before the Beginning". If you haven't read it, you might want to. No, it's not absolutely necessary, but it would help.

Chapter One

The noise in the small town of Martinsdale, California, consisted of a few dogs barking and an occasional bird chirping. A few people could be seen coming and going, but for the most part the place looked more than dead. Anyone looking upon the place would think nothing ever happened in this small obscure town; a town that residents knew would become a ghost town sooner or later. However, if they took a look inside the sheriff's office they have gotten proof that the town did have some minor disturbances now and then.

Nick groaned and rolled onto his side, not caring to open his eyes. If he opened his eyes he'd have to admit he was awake, and he didn't care for that at the moment. However, that didn't stop him from remembering what led him to be lying in a cell out in middle of nowhere.

"You're cheating." Nick, who sat in Martinsdale's saloon, grabbed the wrist of the man he'd been playing cards with. Before the man could deny it, Nick reached into the man's sleeve with his free hand and pulled out an extra ace.

Everything had broken loose after that. He and the man had had an all out fight before the deputy had arrived and hauled them both off to the jail for disturbing the peace and breaking up the saloon during their brawl. Of course, the man had had to give the other players their money back first. Now, lying on the cot, Nick sighed as he remembered why he was in Martinsdale in the first place.

"I've talked to Adam Greene." Jarrod sat behind his desk. "He's got a horse ranch just outside Martinsdale. I think you should take a look at some of his stock. I would do it myself only as you can see," Jarrod said as he held up some papers that had been lying on his desk, "I don't have the time right now. McColl can run the ranch while you're gone."

For the millionth time in four years, Nick found pain shooting through the very center of him as he turned and walked toward the window. Jarrod didn't have time; McColl could run the ranch, sentences that should never have had a need to be spoken. Heath should be able to go to Martinsdale; Heath should be helping Nick run the ranch, but Heath was nowhere to be found and no one in the family had to ask why. No, the question of why Heath had left had been answered the day Audra and Eugene both laid into the family, pointing out how every one of them had, at one time or the other, expected Heath to think and act as if he'd been raised with them since the day he was born-the two youngest Barkley's had admitted their own guilt after tearing into the rest of the family. Heath didn't know Jarrod had remarried and had a two-year-old son, or that Eugene had married and moved to Europe with his wife and two children, a boy and girl. Heath also hadn't been told of Audra's engagement to Will Marvin. It wasn't right.

"Nick?" Jarrod asked with concern in his eyes.

"I heard you. I'll be ready to go in the morning." He turned back around and walked out of the room.

Nick swung his legs over the side of the cot and sat up, silently swearing to himself. Jarrod had hired the Pinkertons to try and find Heath, but it had not done any good. After the first year the detectives had told Jarrod and the family that, while they would keep their eyes and ears open, they would not be actively pursuing the matter anymore. His thoughts might have continued only the door that led out to the main office opened up and the deputy, a black haired gentleman by the name of Henry Gardner who was in his thirties, walked in. Nick was shocked when the gentleman walked up to the cell and began unlocking it.

"Thought the judge wasn't going to be in town until tomorrow." Nick said as he stood up.

The deputy looked at him for a second and then shrugged his shoulders. "Your bail's been paid and, as long as you go straight to the saloon, pay the owner for half the damages and bring the receipt to me, you're free to go."

"Who paid the bail and who talked to the owner of the saloon?" Nick asked with suspicion in his eyes, remembering how the owner had insisted that Nick and the gambler who had been cheating go to jail. The deputy had told Nick the night before that Nick and the other man would have to stand before a judge to settle the matter of how much he, the saloon owner, would get for the damage the two men had done to his establishment.

"I'm not at liberty to say." Deputy Gardner told him as he opened the door, let Nick out of the cell and then went back to the main office where he retrieved Nick's gun and other possessions. "I suggest you get your business in Martinsdale done and then leave." He said as he handed Nick the gun and other items.

Nick had every intention of getting his business done, but he had no intention of leaving Martinsdale before he found out who had paid his bail and talked to the saloon owner. Taking his things, Nick walked out the door without saying a word. He then headed for saloon. The sooner he paid what he owed the saloon owner, the sooner he could go to the Greene ranch and the sooner he could start looking for his benefactor.

Passing by one building, many vacant, it wasn't long before Nick stood before the bartender, a rather plump balding fellow by the name of Philip Jones who was in his late forties. Nick pulled out his wallet and asked the man how much he owed him.

"A hundred dollars," the man replied as he held out his hand.

Nick would have exploded…as he knew he and the gambler had not done two hundred dollars worth of damages…but he didn't want to wind up having a fight with the owner when he, Nick, wanted to find out who had bailed him out of jail. That being the case, he handed the man the money he asked and pushed for answers. "Who played the part of advocate for me?"

"I'm not supposed to say." Mr. Jones replied as he took the money.

Nick pulled out another ten dollar bill from his wallet and asked the question again. He wasn't surprised when the saloon owner had a look of one having a major struggle going on inside him. Nick pulled out another ten dollar bill. It did the trick, sort of.

"You said you were going to the Greene's ranch to look at horses. I suggest you stick around for a few more days." The owner answered as he held out his hand again.

Nick wanted more information than that, but he could see it was all he was going to get from the man. "Is the hotel here in town open?" He asked as he handed the owner the twenty dollars.

"No, but there's a boarding house down the street." Mr. Jones took the money and then turned his back.

Nick turned around, walked out of the saloon and headed for the boarding house.