A/N: As always, thank you to mingsmommy for the beta!

Chapter 13

The two men rode through the moonlight and out of town.

After a good twenty minute ride, "Where are we going, Jim?" Grissom noted they had been travelling steeply uphill for some time.

"You'll see soon enough."

Good to his word, it wasn't long before Brass brought their ride to a halt. They dismounted and tied up their horses to a tree before the sheriff led his friend down a pathway.

"Ah, I know where we are," Grissom admitted. "West Point Ridge, right?"

"That's right."

The two men stopped when they reached a large boulder just by the cliff's edge.

"Why did you bring me here, Jim?"

Smirking, Brass looked down at the miles and miles of land before them. "Take a look."

Following his friend's gaze, Grissom looked out over Maryland as it lay before them.

"Wow," the young rancher expressed his surprise. "I had no idea you could see so much at night." Looking up he observed the sky as it glowed. Clear as crystal and the moon full and fluorescent. The land below them almost as clear in the night as it would be in daytime. "You can see for miles."

"Yep." The sheriff softly folded his arms. "Tell me what you see."

"Alright," Grissom smirked, "I'll bite." He looked back over the land, starting as far as he could see to the left. "Well, that is town." He pointed to a small area emitting a little light.

"Very good."

"Then," he moved to the right, "the Randal estate…"

"Wrong," Brass cut in.

Frowning, Grissom turned to his friend. "Wrong? Well it used to be, John Randal was one of the most prominent figures in town when I left.

"Yeah, he was," the sheriff sighed, "but he has been gone for about three years. His land now belongs to Colonel McKeen. Along with," Brass pointed to each area in turn, "the Edwards place, the Mitchell estate and Farlington Pass."

Following Brass's finger as he pointed, Grissom's eyes narrowed when he stopped at the largest patch of land, illuminated by more than the average amount of light.

"And you know what that is, right?" The sheriff asked.

With his eyes narrowing further Grissom took a light step forwards and glared at the area. "It was McKeen's place but," he hesitated, "it's..it's huge."

"That's right," Brass slipped his thumbs into his belt. "The past five years he has expanded massively. His private estate alone is three times bigger than it was. He possesses the largest area of crop land, his own flour and water mill and the biggest work force in Maryland. Not to mention his own private posse of guards and so forth."

Rubbing his hand across his bearded skin, Grissom tried to absorb all the information Brass was giving him as the sheriff continued.

"McKeen pretty much runs the town. He now owns sixty percent of the available land and all plantations apart from three. Braun, Willows and Sidle are the only ones who have not sold out to him."

"I had no idea," Grissom admitted.

"Unfortunately, for the colonel," the law man continued, "the Braun estate is untouchable. Like it or not, Sam Braun is always going to be more prominent due to his domination in the south as a whole, plus the two men don't exactly get along. I don't think, however, he has attempted to buy out Miss Willows. Whether he will or not I don't know."

"Hmmmm." Grissom found himself deep in thought. "I should maybe pop by and speak to Catherine at some point.

Then suddenly, something clicked within him. "Of course! God, how could I be so stupid?" Cursing to himself, Grissom kicked the dirt and stepped back from the drop before him.

The sheriff didn't understand. "What?"

"The Grove."

"The Grove?"

"McKeen wants the estate, like you said; it's really the only one left he can take. I wouldn't want to mess with Sam Braun's daughter." Grissom scratched his head for a moment. "That's what the captain was arguing with him about this morning; he's refusing to sell."

"Well," Brass began as the two men started back down the pathway, "with all the problems the captain has been having I wouldn't blame him for wanting to sell. It's no secret, Gil, that times are tough over there right now and the money is drying up."

"Yeah," the young rancher sighed, "but things are going to change."

"Oh?" The sheriff asked as they reached their horses. "Do you have a plan?"

Smiling, Grissom swung himself up onto Dante after untying him. "Get the estate back on its feet and start making money again."

"Yep," Brass grinned as he mounted, "that'll do it alright and I am sure that will piss the colonel off good and proper. You are most definitely the right man for the job."

Both men chuckled at the thought of irritating the colonel as they began the steady trot back down the hill.

"But you see, Gil," Brass turned to his friend, "why it is so difficult for me to, how shall I put it, reprimand the colonel or his boys?" Sighing, he faced ahead again. "He has so many connections, if I do not have due cause or infallible evidence; it's more than my job is worth."

"So," Grissom tightened his grip on his reigns, "he's pretty untouchable, huh?"

"When you are best friends with the mayor, yes and that's another fortune the man has been graced with. Or should I say talent? He is an amazing ass kisser when it suits him."

The two men left the incline and trotted onto the road.

"His wallet favors him too, Gil, so be careful. There are not many men left in town that have not become victim to his bribes and I am sure the mayor is included in that group."

Looking to the sheriff, Grissom found his brow heading skyward.

"And no, Gil!" Brass cut in quickly. "I am not one of them."

Smirking, Grissom gave the sheriff a subtle wink. "I'm glad to hear it."

"So, there you have it," the law man informed him. "Yet I feel there was another reason for your visit this evening, am I right?"

Sighing, Grissom clenched his eyes closed for a brief moment. "I want to know what happened with Robbins."

"I thought you might," the sheriff faked a smile. "Have you not discussed this at all with Captain Sidle?"

"No, not really," he shook his head. "We were going to but I think he has enough on his mind right now."

"So, what do you want to know?" Brass asked.

"Everything that you do."

"Hmmm," Brass lightly kicked his horse. "That, my friend, I am afraid, isn't much. He was found early, on the Sunday morning, around 6am if I recall."

"By who?"

"Robert, the young stable boy; he then immediately informed the captain who sent for me."

"Any witnesses?"

"No." Shaking his head the sheriff nibbled on his bottom lip. "No witnesses, no motive, no murder weapon, nothing. Apart from the body, everything else was normal. It was almost as if someone had cleaned up after the act."

Closing his eyes at the word 'body,' Grissom yet again fought the burn of anger that churned wildly inside him. "So, no suspects, therefore all continues as usual?" The mock tone in Grissom's words caused a flinch from the law man.

"I'm sorry, Gil. I did what I could, but there was nothing to go on, nothing."

"The captain mentioned something about rumors; did he mention them to you?" Recalling his previous conversation with Captain Sidle, Grissom knew not all rumors went unfounded.

"Briefly," Brass admitted. "Robbins was apparently suspicious about certain happenings around the estate but was looking into it. Sadly, no other details were submitted before he was killed."

Eyes narrowing Grissom pulled Dante to a steady halt, Brass stopping by his side. "So, someone at the grove could be responsible for this?"

Shrugging, the sheriff shook his head. "Like I said, I don't know. It could be anyone; but I will offer you the only advice I can right now, Gil: trust no one and I mean, no one."

"I just about gathered that much Jim thanks."

"Anytime, my friend, but for now I must be going, it's very late and I need to do my rounds before all the rabble get out of control. Are you coming back into town?"

"No, there is something else I have to do before I return to the estate."

"Sure thing." The sheriff paused. "Just watch your back Gil; you need me, you know where I am."

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Heading back towards the estate the young rancher took a minor detour but he knew exactly where he was heading.

Although his riding was still cautious it now gathered speed as he felt more and more insecure as time went by, clouds were forming and the moonlight was fading. The need to return home grew within him with every second that passed.

Quickly, he reached his destination and dismounted, allowing Dante to roam freely in the small field by the church. Walking around the back he entered the grave yard and sought out the one headstone he was looking for. He found it quickly, the fresh marble twinkling in the moonlight. At least his mentor had been given a decent burial but he didn't really expect anything less from the captain.

Removing his hat he knelt by the fresh patch of dug up earth. Leaning forward he wiped a speck of dust from the stone. Breathing in the cool night air he sighed softly as the merry chirping of the surrounding crickets engulfed the graveyard.

There he remained, silent and saddened, recalling how the man before him in earth had saved his life.

After a long moment of paying his respects he stood. His right fist clenched tightly as his left placed his hat back on. "I swear I will find out who did this to you."

That said, Grissom somberly bowed his head and headed home.

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Sara sat by her window. It was late; she knew it but yet again just like the previous night and despite the day's activities, she struggled to find a peaceful slumber.

Then she saw him and a soft smile graced her lips.

She knew it was him; the silhouette was unmistakable as he trotted lightly down the driveway and towards the stables. Thoughts crossed her mind as to where he had been until this hour and yes, yet again, her curiosity was about to get the better of her. Not even thinking twice she dressed quickly and quietly escaped the sleeping house.

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Knocking tentatively on the cabin door, Sara waited until it opened and Grissom appeared bearing a frown and wearing nothing but his pants.

"Sara?" He asked, looking around behind her, a little shocked. "Is something wrong?"

Pouting her lips, Sara did her upmost not to ogle his fine chest and shook her head. "No, nothing is wrong."

"What are you doing here?" He asked astounded. "Do you know how late it is?"

With a grin pursing her lips, she nodded. "I know how late it is."

Folding his arms quickly over his chest, the half naked rancher leaned against the door frame. "So, would you like to enlighten me as to why you are here? You realize working around the ranch we start early every morning, yes?"

"I know that." She smiled softly. "I couldn't sleep."

"So…..?" Grissom fought to contain his grin.

"So," Sara began, "I was coming to collect on my walk."

"Your walk?" He chuckled. "Was that not last night?"

"Well, yes but you didn't specify it was a one time offer and you did say we would chat another time. So," now, she grinned, "we are both awake and evidently not tired, why do we not continue where we left off last night?"

Smiling broadly now, Grissom just stared at the woman before him.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing," he shook his head. "I was just wondering why you think I am not tired or for that matter, how you knew I wasn't sleeping already."

"Well," Sara hesitated for a moment, "you don't look tired and I saw you coming back from, well, wherever it was you went. You were out for a while so I am guessing you had a lot to do, therefore you probably have a lot on your mind." She smiled slyly. "When the mind is full of thoughts it generally struggles to sleep."

"That's very perceptive of you, Miss Sidle."

Her smile grew. "So, would you care to join me?"

Giving Sara's offer thoughtful consideration, Grissom finally agreed. "I guess a walk would be good to clear the mind, so to speak. Just give me a minute to make myself look a little more respectable."

"Alright," she agreed as a cheeky grin crossed her lips, "but you look fine to me."

Rolling his eyes and fighting his own grin, Grissom held up a finger. "One minute," he said before retreating back inside to grab his shirt.

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They followed the same path as they had done the previous evening and ended up at the stream that ran by the outskirts of the estate but this time Dante remained in the stable.

"Do you mind me asking where you went this evening?" She inquired and he looked at her. "You don't have too," she said quickly, "if you don't want too. It's just…"

"I went to see the sheriff to do a little catching up," he cut in, slipping his hands into his pockets. "Then I stopped by to pay my respects to Albert."

"Oh, um," she hesitated now, unsure on how to follow up on his response. "Are you alright?" She finally managed to say.

Smiling, Grissom looked at her. "I'm fine."

"You loved him very much, didn't you?"

The young rancher stopped and faced the stream, "Yes, I did, very much so. He gave me an opportunity to live when my future looked bleak."

Sighing loudly now, Grissom picked up a rock and threw it into the water before looking up at the stars. Then he jumped when he felt a pressure on his hand. Turning, his gaze met Sara's as she entwined her fingers with his.

"Sit," she beckoned to a nearby log with half a smile. "Tell me."

Once again, feeling Sara's skin on his sent on unfamiliar tingling through his body. Each and every time her flesh touched his it played havoc with his senses. Their eyes locked and the world seemed to stand still briefly as her tongue slowly slid over her dry bottom lip, causing it to glisten in the moonlight. Snapping from his trance when she smiled, he allowed her to pull him towards the seat.

She released his hand as they sat and he fiddled with his fingers before looking up at her. "So," she began, "tell me a little about it: you, Robbins, your past."

"Do you remember me at all?"

"A little," Sara thought for a moment, "I remember your passion for the horses; I liked them too, so I'd always like to watch them in the field or stables. You were usually close by. But, I don't know how," she shifted to face him, "you came to be with us or why you left. I just remember one day you were not with the horses anymore and I never saw you again. Father has spoken of you briefly in the past but has never really gone into any detail."

"Where would you like me to start?" He asked as they locked eyes once more.

"Well, the beginning is always a good place."

Smirking at Sara's obvious attempt at wit, Grissom began.

"My mother died when I was born and my father decided to immigrate over here when I was a small boy. He died on the ship, cholera; so I'm told."

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

A weak smile passed Grissom's lips as he continued. "Robbins found me at the port just after I got off the ship and brought me back here."

"He always did have a tender heart," she smiled softly, a gesture which Grissom returned instantly.

"Yes, he did. He didn't have to take me in and ultimately the decision was your father's about whether I could stay at the Grove or not."

Now a sharp grin crossed Sara's lips. "He can be a softy, too, when he wants to be."

Grissom grinned in return. "Well, he allowed me to stay and from that day on your father and Albert Robbins pretty much made me the man I am today. Robbins taught me the ways of the estate while the captain taught me to read and write, amongst other things. Your father was very strict; he would not allow me to slack off with my teachings at any point."

"That sounds about right," Sara chuckled.

"More importantly, I was treated like I belonged here, like a son and that made a huge difference. I struggled a little around the estate at first, with my father gone I was deeply saddened," he squirmed a little, "but as I got older I became more confident in my own abilities. Without the support I received from Robbins, I don't know if I would have made it or not."

"But you had a gift right?" She asked, "You still do from what I can see."

"A gift?" He inquired with a knitted brow.

"The horses," she revealed, "your relationship with them is breathtaking. I have honestly never seen anything like it. That is one thing I do remember you for; I used to love watching you with them."

Grissom smirked at her.

"What?" She noted the look on his face.

"You did more than watch on many an occasion. You, at times, could be quite a pain."

"Me?" She asked astonished.

"Yes."

"How?"

"You tried to join in if I was exercising the horses; you liked to run alongside and were lucky not to get trampled. A number of times I was tempted to tie you down."

A gentle snort escaped Sara's nostrils. "Seriously?"

"Yes."

"But I gather you never did get to tie me down?" Pouting her lips, she cracked into a laugh as Grissom's right brow hitched.

"No. I did not." He tried to sound serious but barely managed it.

"Then, ultimately in the end you were happy with your work and your home?"

"Yes." A delicate smile now formed on his lips. "I was very happy."

Silence fell between them for a moment and Grissom watched as Sara obviously considered her response carefully.

"So," she cleared her throat, "why did you leave?"

A/N: Oooooh, are secrets going to be revealed? Is Grissom right about McKeen? And is someone at The Grove really responisble for Robbins's death? Let me know your thoughts :)