Chapter Seven

Previously:

Nick was shocked to hear Jarrod put the two names in the same sentence. "Mr. Winters? Yes. Mr. Tydell? Not unless you're going to tie them together for us." He opened the front, and kept it open while Cassie went inside. He then followed her, knowing Jarrod and Heath would enter soon enough.

Jarrod, Heath, and Cassie all stood near the slightly open door, the one leading to the jail cell where Jack Aaron Winters sat. Nick and Sheriff Beldon had just disappeared behind the door. With Nick's limited vision -and the temper he admitted to having - the sheriff insisted on taking no chances. "You really think this will work?" Cassie mouthed to Jarrod.

Jarrod didn't know only he hoped it would, though he only nodded in the affirmative.

When it came to Jack, he backed up into the farthest corner when he saw Sheriff Beldon and the man he thought to be Jarrod Barkley walk into the room. Though, with no alcohol in him whatsoever, the prisoner started getting a funny feeling inside himself. He looked closer at his visitor. 'Six feet, dark hair and blue eyes…name's Jarrod Barkley', the words rang in his ears. This gentleman was six feet, he did have dark hair only-for the first time-Jack wondered about the color of "Jarrod's" eyes – realizing that – in his haste to act overly drunk- he had not taken the time before. He might have only he'd distinctly the storekeeper say 'I'll see you later, Mr. Barkley." Of course, with the dark glasses Nick wore, it was pointless in trying to look now.

"What do you want?" Jack, who felt a wave of trepidation roll over him as he turned to his attention to the sheriff. "I didn't ask to see him!" If he expected the lawman to do anything, he was wrong. The sheriff simply stood against the wall and said nothing.

"I want to know what on earth possessed Mr. Tydell to pay you to attack me! I deal with cows and horses, not criminals!" Nick barked, hoping the shock of hearing him connect Mr. Tydell to Jack would be enough to cause the man behind bars to slip up and say something. He also stepped up to the bars as he spoke, to the point that they were actually touching him. He had hoped to actually see the man who had attacked him. Unfortunately, all he was able to do was see a blurry vision of the man- as the man had back into the farthest corner of the cell. 'It's a good thing there's bars between us and the sheriff is in here, or I'd beat him senseless' Nick growled only to himself.

Jack's mouth fell to the ground only he quickly picked up his jaw. Out of a desperation to prove his gut instinct and Nick wrong, Jack snapped, "All you attorneys know how to do is lie!"

"I'm not an attorney!" Nick grabbed the bars and yelled loud enough to wake the dead-which caused Jack to jump out of his skin. "What do Mr. Tydell and yourself have against a Stockton rancher!"

"R..ancher…no," Jack stammered, "T..tydell said you were an att..orney. H…e he said he n…needed you of the w...ay. That 'Jarrod Barkey is going to be the ruin of me.'

"Was the acid his idea or yours?" Nick growled loudly, causing the cowardly Mr. Winters to do his best to back through a solid wall.

"I…it w….as h..is, Mr. Barkley!" Jack stammered, who was wishing the sheriff do something.

"Well," Nick let go of the bars and stepped back. "You've got the Barkley part right only I'm Nick! Jarrod's my brother, and it will be a cold day in hell before you ever lay hands on my brother!" He then turned away from the cell, not caring in the least about the stunned look that was now upon Mr. Winters' face. The sheriff was right behind him. Once he'd joined his brothers and Cassie, Nick asked Jarrod if he needed anything else out of Mr. Winters.

"No, not with all of us hearing what he said to you." He then asked the sheriff to write out a letter stating that fact…that the sheriff had heard Mr. Winters' words as well. Once Sheriff Beldon handed him the letter, Jarrod bade the sheriff goodbye…as did the others.

Once outside, Nick turned to face Cassie. "Have you thought about what I talked about? In spite of what either one of us would wish, if I leave you behind, the men around here will get ideas… other men they talk to will too. Yes," he flicked his wrist, "it's stupid double standards exist only they do." He then spoke in an uncharacteristically low volume. "Truth is, I like you, and I mean a lot. I can't stomach what those men might try once I'm gone. Come with me to Stockton while Heath and I try to find out more for Jarrod-that is, if Mr. Tydell has connections anywhere else. Let me get to know you even better; let me court you. If it doesn't work out, my family and I can still help you start over. It won't matter if it's in Stockton or somewhere else." He hoped she would listen as he'd meant every word he'd just spoken.

/ A couple days later

"What is it, Mother?" Audra, who had been riding, walked into the house to see her mother reading a telegram-and looking more than worried. "It's not bad news, is it? Nick isn't…." she couldn't get herself to ask the unimaginable.

"No, Nick is alive." Victoria folded the telegram, though the troubled look that had been in her eyes when Audra entered the living room was still there.

"Then what is it? What's wrong?" Audra pressed for information.

Victoria turned to face her daughter. "I don't know. Jarrod says they and a close friend of Nick's will be in town after dark, that they have to see Fred before heading home." She looked at the folded paper in her hands. "He apologizes, and say they'll explain when they get back."

Audra was confused. "That doesn't sound like anything that would upset you. Why the worry in your eyes?"

Victoria looked at the telegram again; it had come from August. Silently, she asked herself, *'August is only three miles away. Why wait until tonight to come home?' Out loud she simply admitted she didn't know, she just had a funny feeling. "I'm going for a ride. Please, just go up into the attic and separate the donations we've received for the orphanage according to the children's ages. Don't worry about me unless I'm not home by dark." She put the telegram in her blouse pocket and walked out of the house.

A/N According to the internet, there is a town named August, and it's only three miles from Stockton. If that is wrong, blame the site I looked at.