A/N: Ugh, I wish my flu would go away it harbors my writing :( Anyhoo, here we go – the morning after, lol. It isn't that bad, trust me! Still lots of emotion and lots more to come but we will soon see someone made a decision they most seriously regret!

Many, many thanks to SSC, I love ya babe. Even with everything going on, you still find the time to beta my little effort. I appreciate it and you more than you know! *Hugs*

Enjoy…

Chapter 57

The night passed all too slowly for some and all too quickly for others…

Grissom awoke with a groan, his hand shooting to his eyes in an attempt to shield them from the morning sunlight seeping through a crack in the drapes. His head was thumping and he couldn't ever remember feeling so bad but it only took a second for his mind to register that he felt rather, vulnerable…

Removing his hand from his eyes, he gripped onto the cool, cotton sheet which covered his body and lifted it.

His eyes widened…he was naked. How the hell did he get naked? His head sprang from the pillow as he pulled the sheet tightly against his exposed body. His eyes darted around the room, from corner to corner…wall to wall, as his brain tried to focus and work out where he was.

The door opened and Heather walked in carrying a tray. Now, he knew exactly where he was.

"Good morning," she offered softly, placing the tray at the foot of the bed. "I thought you could use some coffee and maybe something to eat if you can manage it."

Gazing at her, he wasn't quite sure what to say. His mouth opened but nothing seemed to come out.

She smiled at him as she looked him over. "Don't look so worried," she reassured.

He frowned while still trying to focus. The banging in his skull wasn't helping. "I'm not…um…what happened last night? Why…" He looked down at his body, "…you know…"

Her smile broadened. "You…well had quite a lot to drink," she began. "Do you remember anything?" Pushing the tray off to the left, she sat on the bed.

Grissom thought as hard as his brain would allow. "Just getting here, having a couple of drinks. That's about it."

"Ah, well, you had more than a couple. In fact, I don't ever recall you drinking as much."

Again Grissom tried to remember. "Maybe I had a little too much," he sighed.

She laughed, "Yes."

"But…um…why do I have…no clothes on?" he asked, leaning forward a little. "Did…" he stopped, finding himself unable to actually ask the question but the blush that crept across his cheeks asked it for him.

"I stayed with you for a while. You did sleep but then you woke up and got out of bed. You were sweating and moaning that you were too hot, then you staggered around a little and decided to empty your stomach contents…well…pretty much everywhere, including on yourself. You were how should I put this…soaked to the bone."

"Oh…"

Heather continued. "So, no, don't worry, we didn't do anything. You were by no means capable, even if you had wanted to."

Grissom couldn't help feeling embarrassed even if she kept smiling at him.

"Your clothes should be dry, try and eat something and I will have them brought up. Then, when you are ready, I will be waiting down stairs and we can talk. If you want to that is."

All Grissom could do was nod, although he wasn't entirely sure why he was nodding or whether he would actually be able to talk to Heather or not.

"See you shortly," she finished on before leaving the room and closing the door behind her.

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Sara hadn't enjoyed the luxury of much sleep, whether it was a drunken slumber or otherwise.

After composing herself and leaving Grissom's cabin, she returned to the house. She dodged the numerous servants cleaning up and ran straight to her room. She just had to be alone but as she reached her door, she heard her parents arguing, the sound of their voices seeping through their partially opened bedroom door.

Quietly approaching their room, she listened…

"So that's it?" Laura's voice grumbled. "After everything he has done for you, for us, you are going to sit back and let him leave like this, without going after him?"

"He has made his decision, Laura!" the captain shouted. "He is a grown man now, remember? I gave him a choice and he obviously can longer support me. There is nothing else I can do."

There was a long moment of silence before Laura spoke again. "You are such a fool sometimes, Thomas, you now that? You gave him a choice, yes, but really what kind of a choice was it? Basically, he is to support those he obviously despises or go. That is pretty much what you said."

"Well…I…" the captain stuttered now.

"And what about Michael? Gil clearly believes he is innocent and he isn't the only one, Thomas," Laura continued, "Just remember, Gil is intelligent, he's a hell of a worker and he came from nothing to build up a reputation and career. He's kind, considerate, all the things that you used to find complimentary in a person. Just because he's not a rich man, doesn't mean he's any less a man than our new, so called friends. I am disappointed as to how you can simply just let him go like this and not take his word over others we really know nothing about."

Sara heard her father huff. "My decision is made and so is his," he snapped. "He knows where we are and he can always come back. That's the end of it; I don't want to hear anymore about it. I will not fail, Laura, can't you understand that?" All went deathly silent, so Sara took that as her cue to leave. Her chin trembled as she slipped into her room and quietly closed the door behind her. Grissom well and truly did believe in Michael's innocence but if he is right, then the saboteur and murderer was still roaming free. Sara shuddered.

Now, it all became too much for her. She collapsed on the bed and spent the next several hours just crying and pouring her heart out onto the soft feather pillow beneath her head. She cried until she finally passed out, sometime after 4am.

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It was almost 8am now and after dressing, Sara somberly walked down the stairs. She stopped halfway upon seeing her father and Hank in the hallway, engrossed in conversation.

She sighed and it obviously caught Hank's attention. He turned his head to her and smiled instantly.

"Good morning," he announced.

All Sara did in response was nod. "You're here rather early," she commented, continuing down the stairs.

Hank chuckled, looking back to his future father in law before giving Sara his full and undivided attention. He held out his hand for her and after a long pause, she reluctantly took it. "Nonsense," he began. "We have a wedding to plan, so early just isn't early enough if you ask me."

Ah…the wedding and Hank's eagerness to organize it as soon as possible. He was even discussing it straight after the announcement and Sara fought the urge to roll her eyes at his keenness.

"Do things really have to move this quickly?" she asked. She looked to her father and Hank in turn, "Why the rush?"

With a throaty laugh, Hank lifted her hand and brought it to his lips. He kissed the back softly, "Why not?"

Sara's eyes widened as she gave a desperate secret glance to her father. Thomas Sidle was too busy smiling at his recent good luck to notice his daughter's silent attempt at communication.

Bravely, she put on a forced smile and faced Hank. "I'm not too keen on a quick wedding, Hank. After all, we don't know each other well. I think some time would benefit us both….get to know each other."

Hank scoffed. "Sara, we've known each other for years. I'm ready to get married. And, you did agree to marry me…..and everyone is in concurrence that this should happen as soon as possible. The planning is already underway."

Sara's temper flared, "Everyone but me, Hank."

He laughed and shared a glance with the now bewildered Captain. "Sara, you'll be fine. Once you get into the planning…in addition to the pampering and attention that every woman loves, you'll be alright."

Sara's mouth opened in order to give her new fiancé a well deserved piece of her mind but her father's gentle smile and taking of her free hand stopped her tirade. "Hank's right, Sara," the Captain insisted. "Everything has just happened a little fast for you and you're a little tired today, I'm sure. Come on, you'll be fine."

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Several cups of coffee had managed to clear Grissom's head somewhat: he dressed and went down into the bar. He found Heather at a table counting what he presumed would have been the previous night's takings. She looked up upon sensing his presence and smiled.

"You look a little better," she said, reaching for the steaming hot tea pot on the table next to her. "Tea?" she asked.

"Thanks," he replied slipping into a chair at the table. He pinched the bridge of his nose and watched Heather as she poured the tea. "So…would you like to talk about it?" she asked as she pushed her cash off to one side and placed a cup in front of him.

He looked down at his cup and fiddled with the handle, his mind still trying to accept the truth about the previous night's events. He remained silent.

"You know…" Heather took a sip from her tea, "…word travels very fast about town and I can understand your torment in regards to your boss' new partnership. It has created quite a fuss amongst the town's people."

Grissom leaned back in his chair and looked at her. He shrugged his shoulders. "It has nothing to do with me now. The captain can do whatever he wishes."

A look of curiosity passed over Heather's face. "What do you mean?"

Picking up the cup, he took a small sip before sighing. "I mean, I am done at the Grove, I'm leaving. Today."

"Running away again?"

Glaring at her, he put the cup down. "I am not running away," he barked.

"Then what is it?" she asked, keeping her voice calm and composed.

He shook his head. "It doesn't really matter. All in all my opinion is worthless and no one needs me anymore so…"

"Yes…" She took another mouthful of tea before placing the cup on the table, "…I have to say I was rather surprised by Sara's engagement."

Grissom felt the color drain from his face as his chest tightened. He shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. "That is inconsequential."

Heather sniggered. "Is it? I'm no fool, Grissom. Please don't treat me like one."

His brow knitted firmly and he cleared his throat. No, Heather was by no means stupid. "I can't stay here, Heather. It's bad enough watching an innocent man being sent to the gallows, as well as…I just can't…" He stopped and blew out a hot breath. "It doesn't matter, what I do or think. It just doesn't matter anymore."

Shuffling forward in her seat, she looked him dead in the eye. "I gather you believe that young Michael is not guilty of the atrocities he is accused of surrounding the murder of the blacksmith?"

"You gather correctly."

The lady of the house had a good look around before continuing. "I have some information you may find useful," she whispered.

Now she had Grissom's complete attention and he leaned in closer. "What?"

"Daniel Prichard."

"What about him?" the rancher asked.

"Well…" Heather picked up the tea pot and topped off her cup, "…it just so happens he was in here the evening before everything happened at the Sidle's. More tea?" She held up the pot.

Waving his hand in a negative manner, Grissom pushed his cup aside. "No. Continue, please. You say he was here?"

"Oh yes," Heather confirmed. "With several of McKeen's boys and when he left he was rather…well…inebriated. The boys certainly didn't spare a cent buying him drinks."

Grissom was confused. "So when he left here he was drunk?"

"Rather."

"What time did he leave?"

Heather thought for a moment. "I'd say just a little after eleven thirty."

Shaking his head, Grissom tried to work out the time frame. "That's not possible. If he was drunk, how could he manage to help commit murder, start a fire and steal a herd of cattle?"

With her brow rising suggestively, Heather half smiled. "You tell me."

"Have you told the sheriff about this?" the rancher quickly asked.

Snorting through her nose, she quickly held a hand to her mouth in an attempt to conceal her laughter. "No…" she coughed, "…oh no. You don't speak to the sheriff, Grissom. Not if you want to keep on breathing. No one does, unless you wish to end up like Sam Braun."

"Well, I will," he responded, standing quickly. "I have to go."

Heather was quick to stand also, a look of concern now etched upon her face.

"Don't worry," Grissom said. "I'm leaving town, so what does it matter anyway?"

Stepping around the table, she placed a soft hand on his arm. "Nothing is going to change your mind?"

He shook his head, "Sadly not."

"Try and keep in touch this time, even if it's just a message every now and again." She raised her brow at him.

"I'll try."

"Hmmmm…" They looked at each other for a short moment before Heather pointed across the room. "Your things are behind the bar. I had your horse put out back as I didn't think it was such a good idea to leave him on the street overnight."

"Right…" Grissom responded, following Heather towards the bar. "Thank you. Oh, how much do I owe you? You know for…the drink and…your…hospitality."

"You owe me nothing because you are a friend and I know you would do the same for me." Stepping behind the bar, Heather pulled out Grissom belongings and handed them to him. "Don't be a stranger now…"

After slipping his hat onto his head, he slid his rifle under his arm and nodded. "I appreciate everything you have done for me, Heather. More than you know."

A sweet smile passed over her lips, "I know…"

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Grissom said goodbye to Heather, collected Date and rode towards the sheriff's office. As he approached, he saw Brass standing on the steps looking out over the town. He dismounted and the sheriff looked down at him.

"You're looking a little rough this morning, Gil," the older man commented.

Giving his friend a sarcastic smile the rancher lifted a boot onto the first step and winced as he looked up and the sunlight caught his eyes. His head still throbbed but he was determined to carry on nonetheless. "Thanks," he mocked.

"Rough night?" Brass asked, stepping down the top two steps and slipping his thumbs into his belt.

"Something like that," Grissom responded, nibbling on the inside of his lip. I've had better evenings."

The sheriff's eyes narrowed as he looked his friend over. "I bet you have. I heard about…the new partnership and…you know…"

Cringing as Sara's face suddenly flashed before his eyes, Grissom shook his head. "It doesn't matter, Jim. I'll be gone soon enough so everyone can just go and do whatever they want."

Brass frowned. "Gone?" he asked. "Gone where?"

"I'm leaving, Jim, going back to Alexandria."

"When?" the sheriff continued.

"As soon as I am done talking with you," the rancher sighed.

Working his jaw from left to right, the sheriff descended a few more steps and folded his arms. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

Sniggering sarcastically, Grissom swallowed the dry lump in his throat. "None of what has happened is what I want; Jim, but unfortunately I can't do anything about it. Well…I'm going to try and do just one more thing."

"What might that be?" the older man asked, raising his brow.

"Getting you to see sense about Michael," Grissom replied swiftly. "I have some more information."

Now Brass sighed. "Look, Gil, I…"

"Let me say what I have to say, Jim…" the rancher cut in abruptly.

Brass shrugged his shoulders. "Fine…" he mumbled.

"Just look at what you have, Jim, everything is just too easy, too coincidental. But try this one…" Grissom took a breath. "I have been told that Pritchard was in the saloon the night everything happened and he left, very, very drunk. And…" He held up a finger, "…who was he being entertained by and who was paying for all his drinks…..McKeen's boys. So, you tell me how a drunken man can be the mastermind behind a fire, a murder and the theft of a herd of cattle."

"Who told you that?" Brass was quick to fire his question.

"It doesn't matter who told me. I believe them and I know Michael is innocent. I'm sure if you asked around, there are others who also witnessed what I'm telling you. I just wish you would do something about it."

Grissom took a step back as he watched Brass's nostrils flare.

"Do you think I'm just sitting on my butt?" the sheriff growled. "I am looking into this, Gil, but it takes time and you don't actually always help you know? You end up flaring tempers and emotions and just end up creating more work for me. Just tell me one thing. What the hell do you expect from me? I'm one man, in a town of deceit and madness." He slipped down the remaining steps and looked Grissom directly in the eye. "Come on, Gil. You have all the answers," he scoffed. "What should I do?"

After straightening his hat, Grissom stepped away and pulled himself up onto Dante. "I didn't want this to end on an argument, Jim, I really didn't. But, in answer to your question…the one thing you really need to do…is…find Pritchard. Then, I'm sure you will have all the answers you need."

Brass just glared at him, slamming his fists into his hips.

"Just do me one favor?" Grissom asked as Dante started moving backwards.

"What?"

"If you do find what you seek and Michael is set free, get him to me. He won't be safe here. Can you do that?"

The sheriff thought for a moment and then nodded. "I can do that."

Tightening his hands on the reins, Grissom nodded. "Thank you."

"Take care of yourself, Gil, and never forget you do have friends here and people who love you, no matter how you feel right now."

Grissom knew his friend's statement was sincere but at that particular point in time it didn't really help the way he felt. He smiled weakly and pulled Dante back. "Goodbye, Jim," he said sadly before giving Dante a swift kick and riding away, leaving a wake of dust behind him.

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Later that evening…

Sara sat on the veranda that overlooked the garden she loved so much. The flowers were in full bloom, their myriad of colors slowly fading in the setting sun. She sighed softly, trying to enjoy the only tranquility that the day had given her but her thoughts and emotions were too chaotic for even the beauty of the garden and the now peace and quiet to penetrate.

Her day had not improved from this morning. She breathed a sigh of relief that Hank had finally departed after supper. His incessant wedding talk had whipped the entire Sidle family staff into the "wedding frenzy". Wedding this and wedding that. There was already talk of dresses and flowers and Sara couldn't really remember what else. Her muddled thoughts had drowned out any conversation, so she simply nodded at what she felt was appropriate.

She didn't remember eating anything today and then realized that she indeed hadn't.

She knew without thinking that the wedding would take place in the garden, beneath the beautifully constructed gazebo that sat at the garden's centre. Sara's head dropped to her feet. Suddenly, the garden had lost all it's appeal to her.

Could she really do this? Only mere days before, she had convinced herself that she could. She told herself that she could learn to love Hank, be a dutiful wife to him. And now only several hours after her fateful decision, she was questioning if she could even like him. Could she really marry Hank when her heart belonged to Grissom?

Grissom…She wanted to sob every time she thought of him and she thought of him all the time. She'd kidded herself thinking she could just simply forget him and move on. The problem was, she couldn't, no matter how hard she tried.

But she had hurt him so very badly, she knew that and she doubted that he would ever forgive her, even if the opportunity ever arose.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Sara heard her mother's voice and turned her head. Laura approached and sat beside her.

A feeble smile fell upon Sara's lips as her mother took her hand. "Would you like to talk about it?"

Shaking her head, Sara swallowed the burning lump in her throat. "I'm just tired, that's all." She felt as her hand was squeezed tighter and her mother's eyes turned a little pleading.

"Why am I finding it difficult to believe you?" Laura asked on a whisper.

Turning away, the young heiress felt her whole body sag. "I said I'm fine, Mother. Just… leave it alone, please."

"Alright…" Laura tried to sooth her daughter and ran a comforting hand over her arm. "Just…look at me, Sara, just for a minute."

After careful consideration Sara looked back at her mother.

"I…" Laura began, taking a deep inhalation of air, "…can see your lack of enthusiasm…already, in regards to your own wedding and that is not a good thing. You just need to understand the longer you leave this, the deeper you and your father will get and the more difficult it is going to become to make any form of amendment. And eventually, that one question will come that will change your life forever. Then there is no turning back. Do you understand me, Sara?"

Fighting the tears burning her eyes, Sara nodded. "I understand," she said so quietly it was hard to hear. But then, she had the overwhelming need for comfort and before her brain had even registered her actions, she leaned forward and tightly wrapped her arms around her mother.

Laura reciprocated by pulling Sara into a warm and comforting hug. "Just remember…I'm here for you." The lady of the house rubbed her hands comfortingly up Sara's back and then held on tightly. "I always will be, but the clock is against you…for the love of God, don't forget that…"

For some reason, neither Sara nor Laura could let go of the other for a very long time.

A/N: Hmm, me thinks Sara is definitely not happy with her decision. How long can she keep up the charade? Will she be able to call it off? If she does, then what?

What do you think guys? Let me know :)