A.N - Yeah, I'm a terrible updater. I'm sorry. But I'd like to thank you all for your support of this story already. Thank yooouuuu. xD

But yeah, I plan on updating Nothing To Lose later - shock, horror. :)

Hope you like this chapter.

Chapter Two

One month. A whole month had gone past, and I had yet to set my eyes on Susannah again. The Ackerman's had been occupying most of her time – and I am ashamed to admit that I envy them for it.

I couldn't say the same about Paul Slater, however. In the month that had passed since their arrival in this town, Paul had applied for permission to open a new saloon house in the town, a place for the wealthy men to relax after a hard days work at their various jobs. I had to give him permission, of course. It's not like there was anything against him that I could use as evidence to say no.

The saloon had been granted permission then completed within two weeks. Now, a week after its opening, the saloon was the most popular place in town. I was constantly being called out nightly to break up various drunken brawls, even going as far as to keeping a few patrons in a cell overnight. It's a sad night whenever I have to. The leaders of the most respected families in this town, locked up until they sober enough to see reason.

There was another change in our small town – the reappearance of Felix Diego. That was a happy day for my fiancée. She insisted that her family be the one's to host him until he earns enough money to support himself - an offer to which my aunt and uncle were not hesitant in the least to agree to. They were unaware of the events that forced my father to lead the Diego's out of time those many years ago. I, myself, was only a baby.

And now, twenty years later, he has returned.

And with him came news of an illegal cat house opening also.

With Diego, there is always trouble.

The sun was, yet again, blaring down on the back of my neck through the small window in the sheriff's office, the door flung open in a pointless attempt at keeping cool. My head was resting in my hands, propped up by elbows resting on my desk. The snores of last night's drunken prisoner were the only sound loud enough to be noted.

Then came three quick raps on the door and I jolted my head upwards in surprise.

"Howdy, Sheriff."

The greeting came with ease from the man who spoke. Jake Ackerman. A face I hadn't seen in weeks, for he was too busy spending time with his step-sister recently arrived from New York. He was too busy spending time with Susannah.

I stood up and went to greet Jake in return.

"Good morning to you too, stranger."

I nodded my head towards him, before laughing and wrapping my arms around in a manly hug of hello.

"What have you been doing with your time, Jesse?" Jake walked over to sit at the chair behind my desk as I remained near the door, savouring the sun on my face. I'd always loved the hot weather.

"I've been keeping the streets of Carmel free from the noise and violence of drunken patrons, mainly." I responded tiredly, the thought of what I'd endured the past seven nights at the forefront of my mind. "And yourself?"

"Helping to set up the business which has kept you so busy," Jake admitted with a laugh, running a hand through his long hair, nervously. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I assured him. "If anyone was to blame, I believe it would be Paul Slater. For, if he hadn't arrived, the saloon wouldn't have been built."

Jake nodded thoughtfully but remained in silence.

I tilted my head away from the room, facing the brown streets of the town, feigning disinterest in my next statement.

"Is there any reason for this visit, Jake?"

I wanted to know the answer more then I should care to. My pulse picked up at the thought of Susannah asking about me.

"One," he sighed, releasing a low hiss of breath before standing up and joining me at the door, though his face wasn't calm to glare of the sun. Jake shielded his eyes with his hand as he squinted through the streets to the direction of where I knew the saloon to be. "Suze."

I hardly dared to hope.

"I'm worried about her."

Despite the bad circumstances, my heartbeat refused to calm. Just the mere mention of her name had it pounding. I cursed myself for thinking only of myself when she was in possible danger. Jake never worries about anything unless it is bad. Unless it is extremely bad.

"Brad was right in saying that Paul had a reputation, you know." Jake began in a conversational tone. "He does. And it's not a very good one. I just refuse to believe it, and generally, it works for me. Until I see how Suze acts around him."

My heart ceased its frantic pounding. I could have sworn it stood still.

"She's so different then she is when she is around just us, just her family." Jake continued. "Suze is quieter when he is around her, constantly watching what it is she says. I've seen a few faded bruises on her also." He stopped to laugh wryly. "Of course, that could just be because Paul has her tending bar in the saloon nightly."

He paused, head dropping to his feet, watching the dust scatter as he kicked at it with his foot.

"She's just a girl, Jesse." He finished. "She doesn't deserve to be treated like she is."

"You're right." I nodded in confirmation. No woman should ever be treated like a common slave - especially not Susannah.

"Of course, it is just a suspicion." Jake added. "I can't be sure. I just wanted to talk to someone about it."

He glanced over at me, seeing the hard-set determination on my face.

"Though I'm starting to think that I should have gone to Brad, and not the Sheriff – even if he is my best friend." Jake added hastily. "Jesse, it might not even be true, Promise me you wont do anything foolish."

I raised my eyebrow at my longest friend.

"It might be true, Jake." I insisted. "Your step-sister could be in trouble."

"But she might not be, as well." He countered. "Just, don't do anything about it, at least not yet. Okay?"

I sighed as I gave my answer.

"Okay."

And I nodded in confirmation of that. It's not like I had any evidence, any plausible reason for going in and arresting Paul Slater before banning him from this town for good. No reason at all.

"What do you care anyway?" Jake wanted to know. "It's not like you even know Suze. Or Paul, for that matter."

I averted my gaze. Why do I care indeed? But my answer was ready instantaneously.

"I'm the Sheriff." I replied with ease. "Just once I'd like to stop a crime before it starts."

Jake smiled.

"I suppose it would help you law-abiding folk."

At my look, Jake hastened to correct his statement.

"This includes me, of course."

"That's a relief," I joked. "I don't want to have to acquaint you with your brother's second home."

Jake glanced towards the small jail cell, the drunken occupant leaning against the wall, head leaning to one side as he snored loudly.

Jake's deep laughter filled the room as he shook his head.

"I think I'll leave that for Brad."

"Good choice."

Though, no matter how much I could joke around with my best friend, the situation still remained. Susannah Simon may need my help. Which means that I would get to see her again.

--- --- ---

It was that night that my father requested to see me. He was at home, in his office, waiting for me when I returned home from my duty; The Deputy Sheriff was on duty for tonight.

I stood outside of his door nervously. Father was impossible to please. I'd been trying – taking over the duty of Sheriff, agreeing to marry Maria – but there could still be a time when he asks me of something I'm incapable of doing. Then I fear for how father will react.

My hand raised, ready to knock on the door loudly.

Knock, knock, knock.

"Come in."

My father's voice was deep and always daunting.

Nevertheless, I pushed open the heavy door, and walked into his office quietly.

"Ah, Hector." Another thing about my father is that he refuses to call me by my preferred name. "Good, you're here."

"Yes, father." I muttered.

"Have you heard the reports?" He demanded of me. "It's unthinkable! A cat house?! In Carmel?!"

"I know, father." Relief rolled over me in waves. He only wished to talk about my job.

"Well, what do you propose you do about it?"

I raised my head and looked at my father. He was an aging man, his dark hair entwined with strands of grey. Yet his dark eyes remained ever-piercing, ever-watching.

"I'm not sure I follow you, father."

I spoke hesitantly, fearing his reaction.

Imagine my surprise as his lips twisted into a broad grin, the likes of which hadn't been attempted by father in years. Not since my youngest sister – of which I have five – had spoken her first words, and they just happened to be 'Dada'.

"I believe that I may have an answer, son." My father walked around his desk towards me, gripping a small envelope in his hands. "This came for me at first post."

I took the envelope from his hands and opened it slowly, almost groaning out loud when I saw the advertisement for 'S&D's cat house. Open all night, every night. Located within the back rooms of the new saloon. We promise to keep your presence with us discrete.' My father had received an invitation to attend 'S&D's' cat house. S&D. Slater and Diego.

I resisted the urge to rip up the paper and throw it into the remains of the fire that my father had had going earlier in the evening.

Though I wasn't so much angry with the thought that our small town's reputation was in the balance with this evidence of the new cat house. I was angrier at the fact that Susannah had to be involved with it. Jake had mentioned that Paul had her tending bar in the saloon. Who's to say that he wasn't making her … make an appearance, nightly, in his extra business?

"What is your answer then, father?" The question came out gritty, forced through clenched teeth as my hands remained fisted around the small piece of paper in my hands.

"Well," he announced, the sadistic grin on his face widening slightly. "Seeing as we've been invited, it's only … proper that we turn up."

I forced myself to look away from the paper.

"Father …?" I asked.

"You, my boy, are going to pose as a customer and get enough evidence to shut that place down for good."