(Sorry for the long wait. My muse sort of abandoned me for a month or so as I was dealing with real life events and so forth. Due to the prodding of a friend, I got my butt in gear and wrote this chapter. I'm almost done with the next chapter so it should be coming along here in the next few days.)

Chapter 16

"Move your boney ass!" Clara growled at the old mare that seemed stubbornly ensconced in the stall on a bright, cold morning, almost a week after Cody had called Lisa Elliot.

This morning was what Clara liked to referred to as 'drudge morn'. Once or twice a week, depending on how often she let the horses stable overnight in the barn, she mucked out the stalls, swept the wooden barn floor and cleaned the corral up as best as she could from where the horses had been. She'd then rake up the yard under where she'd been splitting and sawing wood for the shavings to put on the floor of the stalls and the excess if any into cloth bags to store for winter use. Nothing around her cabin went to waste. Ashes from the fireplaces, peelings, dead plants from the garden, manure, egg shells and tea bags went into the compost pile to the south of the barn. It was turned several times a month in hopes that she could use part of it on the garden the following spring.

This morning, her mare didn't feel like moving from the warm shelter of the barn and out into the cool breeze of the corral. Clara felt bad for the old nag but until her stall was mucked out and new shavings put down, she would have to go outside. With another growled curse and tug on the lead rope, the mare finally stepped out of her stall with a sigh of disgust and plodded her way out of the barn and out into the corral.

Now that the obstacle was removed, Clara went back into the barn and to her work. The chickens roamed around the inside of the barn and out into their enclosure, clucking and making the soothing little noises they made. As she worked, Clara planned out her day and then the rest of her week, knowing that snow wasn't probably more than a month off. Nights were getting down to the freezing mark now and there was nothing left to harvest in her garden except root vegetables, which would need to be dug up in the next few days.

Her mind was so occupied as she took the wheelbarrow full of manure out to the compost pit that she missed the sounds of an engine coming down the road towards her cabin. Coming back around the edge of the barn, Clara stopped short at the sight of a dark blue Lincoln Continental with tinted windows coming to rest near her porch steps. She felt her body tense immediately as she knew this car didn't belonged to anyone she knew and wasn't the sort of car one saw someone driving up logging roads into the mountains anyway.

Unable to see who sat behind the wheel, she continued to push the wheelbarrow towards the barn. Setting it down just inside the door, she reached for her splitting maul and double headed axe that hung on the wall of tools. The one gun she had was still inside and she wouldn't feel safe until she had some way of protecting herself from whoever this might be.

Stepping back out, she walked casually over towards the splitting stump where she set down the splitting maul next to it and then rested the axe on top of it, though her hands never left the handle. No one had left the car yet and this put her further on edge. When the car door finally opened, smoke billowed up and out of the car, followed by a greasy looking man who could have stood to lose about a hundred pounds, mainly around the middle. His hair was slicked back and parted on the side and his plaid jacket and polyester slacks set her instincts on edge. It screamed 'city sleaze' to her.

The face that looked around at her cabin and scenery seemed to do so in disgust and the fat sausage like fingers held up a cigar to the man's thin lips as he took another drag from it. He finally turned and looked at Clara. The look of disgust didn't dwindle in the least. "Excuse me little lady," he said, drawling out the words. "The man of the house wouldn't happen to be home now would he?"

It was all Clara could do to keep from picking up the axe at that moment and pitching it at the man but she simply schooled her features and kept a tight grip on the handle, trying to look relaxed. "I don't know you. State your business," she stated in a clear, cool voice.

The man's dark eyes narrowed and he seemed to take a closer look at her, "Well see little lady, I'm lost. Looking for a Tom Jefferson. Wouldn't know where he lives, would you?"

"No one here by that name. Never heard of a Tom Jefferson in these parts unless you go to a bank and ask for a two dollar bill. Got a picture of a Tom Jefferson on it. Now get off my land. You're trespassing," stated Clara evenly. Granted, she didn't know everyone around Tahoe in the mountains but she'd heard Jesse and the Rangers talking often enough about the locals and had never heard of anyone named Tom Jefferson and didn't think he was really looking for anyone by that name.

She saw the man's jowls quiver slightly as he clamped his jaws down tight in anger, "Now see here missy! I don't take kindly to being talked to that way…," he said, taking a step away from his car door.

Clara ran her right hand down the handle of the axe and picked it up near the head, then used her left to grab the end of the handle, hefting it so that it was now horizontal to her body. "I would advise you not to take a step further from your car. You stated your business. I answered your question and told you to get off my land and why. I won't ask you again," she growled. She balanced the axe easily in her hands, looking as though she were ready to do battle with it, legs slightly apart as if to stabilize herself when she struck something.

The fat man growled slightly, "I always heard that people in the mountains were helpful and friendly, even polite. Guess that ain't true…," he said with a sneer as he took another drag on his cigar and blew out the smoke in her direction. He moved to slip back into his seat.

Clara bit her tongue, wanting to make a snappy comeback but she felt that now was definitely not the time to say anything. He was leaving and that's all she wanted. The man made her skin crawl by the way he looked at her and the way he had spoken to her. She felt as though she would have felt cleaner if she'd rolled around in the compost pit…than the way she felt now being around this man.

The car sank a little as the man sat down and with look back at her, he snarled and flicked the stub of his cigar out towards her before slamming his door shut. The heavy engine of the Lincoln Continental roared to life a moment later and he spun his tires as he put the car into reverse to back it up. Putting it into drive, he spun the tires again, slewing dirt and gravel around as he headed back up her driveway and out onto the main logging road.

Clara stood there for several moments, shaking as her hands worked over the grip on her axe. Her heart was racing and all she could do was stand there and shake like a leaf on a tree. A thousand little questions ran around inside her skull, each gibbering and jostling for position. But the ones that kept resurfacing were…who was that man and what was he doing up here?

Finally she got herself calmed down and loosening her stiff grip on the axe. She put it down and went into the cabin, grabbed the fire tongs and went back out to the spot where the man's cigar stub still smoldered. She wrinkled her nose at it as she picked it up then took it inside to toss into the fire that was still going in the kitchen stove. There was no way she would allow that thing to contaminate her land.

As she made her way back out to the yard, the sound of an engine could be heard coming down the driveway and thoughts of the man returning made her quickly race towards the splitting block where she'd left the axe. She reached for it, grabbing it up and turned quickly as if ready to do battle only to find herself staring at Matt's black truck.

She let her shoulders sag as she quickly let the axe sink back to the stump and she heard the truck door open. Her actions and expression must have warned him something had happened to spook her because it took Matt only a few long strides to come over to Clara and grab her up by the shoulders so he could force her to look at him.

"What happened?" he asked, worry tingeing his words and making her feel a little weak around the middle.

"Some…creepy…sleazy…guy…just showed up here, saying he was looking for someone…," she managed to stammer out, not realizing how much the encounter with the man had shaken her up until she heard herself trying to get the words out around her throat that was constricted with fear.

"Driving a dark blue Lincoln Continental?" he asked as if in clarification.

She looked up at his green eyes and nodded.

He frowned, "Guy was racing down the road like someone had lit a fire under his ass. Nearly ran me off the road. I radioed the Sheriff and the Rangers and gave them his plate number and description of his car. Told them to try and nail him for reckless driving…but with me being off duty…," he said cautiously, not really finishing the sentence.

Clara nodded a little and sighed. "It's all right. He said he was 'lost' and looking for someone named Tom Jefferson. Told him to get off my land and he was trespassing."

Matt's hands gently released her shoulders and instead, he put a hand on top of her shoulder as he bent a little at the waist to look her in the eyes. "Don't know of anyone by that name that lives around here," he said quietly. "You gonna be ok? Maybe you should go stay at dad's place for a day or two?" he offered.

Taking a deep breath she looked up at him and tried to smile a little, "Its ok. It just shook me up is all. If I don't feel comfortable about it by tonight, I'll see about heading over to your dad's. But if he was already heading off the mountain and you have people looking out for him, then I'm not going to worry about it too much. Probably some sleaze ball got lost and thought he'd try to con on some hapless country hick."

Chuckling, Matt pulled Clara into a half hug, "Well the way you looked when you turned around with that axe in your hands, I think I'd fear for my life if I were him."

Flushing at that, she pushed away a little and looked him over and then at his truck, "What are you doing here…and on your day off?"