Chapter One
A/N
One of the "guest stars" in this story is not mine. He is creation of Vol lady…John from The Boy Who Looks Like Me. She was kind enough to let me borrow him after this idea started running around in my head…loud enough for me to make the time to write a short version. If you haven't read her story, you really should.
A/N Any towns mentioned in this story are, as far as I know, made up. If they actually exist, it's pure coincidence. Also, I'm taking writer's liberty when it comes to the descript of the area the story takes place in.
The sound of the train's whistle woke Jarrod up. He sat up straight and looked out the window. He could see a huge gray water tower. That meant a chance to get off the train and stretch his legs, before finishing they headed for *Brighton. As soon as he felt like he get walk down the aisle without being pushed and shoved, Jarrod stood up. Moments later he was stepping down onto the cold hard ground. The first of November wasn't his favorite time of the year to travel only the telegram he'd received a couple of days ago had made it necessary.
"You don't even know who is in trouble or what the trouble is. All you know is that someone has said they need your help, and that's it's urgent." Nick stood in the living room staring in disbelief. "Who says all they're doing is trying to get you alone in order to 'even the score' – as it were." He might not have been so worried only the family had just finished dealing with a man who had tried to do just that. Fortunately, it was the ex-convict who had wound up dying instead of Jarrod.
Jarrod pulled out the telegram out of his vest pocket as he remembered the long and heated debate that had ensued once Nick had voiced his objection. His hot tempered brother had only backed off once Jarrod swore up and down he'd send a telegram the moment he arrived at his destination, and again when he found out what was going on. Once again the famous Stockton attorney read the words in the message.
WE NEED HELP IN BRIGHTON Stop URGENT Stop PLEASE COME
If it wasn't for the fact that he had some business come up -business that allowed him to pass through Brighton anyway, he had to admit he'd have had a hard time deciding whether or not to go. It's not like he even had a description to give anyone. Guess he'd be paying Sherriff Lawson a visit the first chance he got. After all, the lawman was just as good at his job as was Fred Madden. When the conductor started hollering, Jarrod came out of his thoughts as he and the other passengers who had stopped off the train once again climbed aboard and took their seats.
As much as he'd like to have fallen back to sleep, Jarrod couldn't. His mind was too busy asking questions as his eyes watched the train fly trees, boulder and-at times-wide open spaces. The business he had in a small town beyond Brighton was nothing overly pressing. That part helped since he didn't know how long the matter in Brighton would actually take. By the time the train rolled into the train station, Jarrod was more than willing to exit the train. After all the sooner he got Jingo out of the animal car, the sooner he could get started for Brighton…which was three miles from the train station. His other business was in Kirkston, four miles from Brighton. Too bad both towns were too small to have the railroad to have a station at one of them. Oh well, there was no sense dwelling on something that could not be changed. It wasn't long before Jarrod had his horse saddled and then, seeing no reason to hang around the station, he started riding for Brighton.
He paid little attention to the trees, shrubbery or the occasional animal that would appear now and then. It's not like he hadn't seen the area more than once. Though, he had to admit, for the first time in quite a while, time seemed to be dragging on. He just wanted to go see Sheriff Lawson and find out what the law man knew about any trouble that would warrant sending for an attorney. Though, meeting Sheriff Lawson first flew out the window when three men, all wearing masks, rode their horses onto the road and blocked his path. Since the thin, balding gentleman in the middle had his gun drawn, Jarrod assumed the men meant to rob him. Only, before the men or he had a chance to speak a shot rang out and the man's gun was flying out of his hand and causing all four of them to have to calm their horses. Foul language immediately escaped the would be robber's mouth while he, his companions and Jarrod all looked around once they were fighting their animals.
"WHO WAS THAT!" The man in the middle -whose name was Jack Miller- yelled as he glanced at both his companions.
"Don't look at me! I had no idea there was anyone else around!" The young, blonde haired boy to Jake's right barked as he tapped his right foot-a nervous habit he denied he had. Well, in Jarrod's eyes the young man was a boy…as he didn't look a day over seventeen.
"I don't know anything either! I have no clue who is out there!" The blacked haired man to Jake's left snapped. Jarrod figured the rider was in his late twenties. What he didn't know was that the two men with Jake were Jake's sons… the younger one's name was Samuel while his black haired brother was named Timothy.
The three men started arguing though Samuel moved his hand towards his gun only to find another shot ringing out. Samuel swore as blood started trickling from 'scratch' on his hand.
"I'm getting out of here!" Timothy turned his horse around. When his father commented they couldn't just leave a witness, Timothy rolled his eyes. "We have masks on. He can't identify us, and whoever is out there will shoot us if we hurt him. Don't tell me I can't guarantee that either. You know I can!" He then took off in the opposite direction. Holding his injured hand close to him, Samuel followed his brother. Their father hesitated only he too turned his horse around and rode off.
Jarrod again looked around, wondering who had intervened on his behalf. After a few minutes of scanning the area and still seeing nothing-even though he felt strongly someone was still watching him -he started his journey towards Brighton once again. The feeling of being watched wouldn't leave him until he was a mere mile from town.