A/N: Hey guys. I'm posting a little earlier than I normally would. I'm moving to a new job and home tomorrow and I'm not sure how much time I'm going to have over the next few weeks so I didn't want to leave you with nothing just in case I can't post for a while. Thank you for all the great reviews, they mean more to me than you know.
All my heart and thanks to SSC as always, for the beta and much, much more... You really have had some diamond suggestions of late and I love the fact you are becoming equally as evil as me. Hehehehehe. Your advice, encouragement and friendship is a pure blessing!
So, here we go…
Chapter 59
As the two lawmen neared their destination, Vartann looked around, seemingly recognizing the area. "What are we doing back here?" he asked with a frown as they trotted down the path leading to the house previously occupied by Daniel Pritchard.
"Call it a hunch," Brass responded, tilting his head to look at his aide.
"Do you think we missed something?"
"Maybe," the sheriff replied. "Or…someone."
Now Vartann really did look confused. "Someone? Like who?"
Giving his horse a gentle tap in order to speed him up a little, the sheriff pulled away in front. "I'll explain when we get to the house, hurry up," he called, leaving a wake of dust for his deputy to maneuver through.
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The duo reached the house, dismounted, and securely tied their horses up by the porch.
Vartann shrugged. "So what are we doing? You said we were looking for someone?"
Rubbing his chin, the sheriff backed away from the house and had a good look around the area. "You and O'Reilly have spent the last day trying to locate Mr. Pritchard, right?"
"Right," Vartann agreed. "He is nowhere in town and no one in the neighboring towns are claiming to have seen him, despite of the reward that the colonel so kindly put up for his capture."
Sniggering, Brass straightened his hat, "Oh yes, very kind."
"Where are you going with this?" the deputy pushed.
"Well…" Brass cocked his head beckoning Vartann to follow him and he did so and the two walked around the back of the house, "…I just have a feeling, the reason no one has seen him is because he never left."
They stopped behind the house and looked at the large plot of woodland before them. "Never left?" the young man questioned. "How can that be? Surely we would have seen him and do you really think he would be stupid enough to hang around?"
The sheriff's eyes narrowed as they scanned through the trees.
"Plus there isn't anything left here," the deputy continued. "Why would he empty his home and then stay in it?"
"Maybe he wasn't the one who emptied it," Brass answered as he stepped forward and into the woodland.
Vartann followed.
The light grew darker as the two men navigated their way through the trees and the crunch of branches being broken underfoot echoed through the silence.
"We didn't search in here did we?" the sheriff asked as he stopped and looked around again.
"Why would we?" the deputy questioned. "We had a lot of evidence already."
"Hmmm…" Brass frowned but then he spotted something snagged in a bush off to the left. "Over there." He pointed and stepped away to inspect what his eyes had caught.
When he reached the rather sharp and prickly overgrowing thorn bush, he reached out and plucked the large piece of what looked like material from its branches. He held it up and the two men eyed it with curiosity.
"Looks like a piece of shirt," Vartann observed.
The sheriff nodded. "Agreed and…" He noticed dried, red marks covering most of the cloth. "It's got blood on it."
Vartann nodded, it certainly did have blood on it. "But who's blood?"
"Let's see if we can find out, shall we?" the sheriff returned.
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It was twilight before the Sidles arrived back at their estate. Hank had insisted on accompanying them, much to Sara's annoyance.
As the buggy traveled down the driveway, the occupants were quick to notice the mass of activity. There were workers everywhere, both employees of the Sidle's and the colonel. Horses were pulling carts filled with timber and equipment and as they neared the house the clang of hammers against metal could be heard even in the dim light.
Sara noticed a pool of smoke streaming into the air over by where the stables had been…the sign of a blacksmith at work. She looked to her father who frowned before looking to Hank.
Hank grinned. "Uncle thought it best to get the place sorted as soon as possible. I mean, why wait, right? He has sent over ten workers to join yours and our guys have already started bringing over things to rebuild the stables and have made a start."
The captain looked a little dumbstruck. "Oh…"
Sara noticed her father didn't appear to look all that happy. "Are you alright?" she asked him.
He nodded and looked to his future son in law. "I would appreciate, in future, being informed about any activity in regards to rebuilding my home, Hank. I know we have a business deal but I don't like decisions being made without my consent. You appreciate that, don't you?"
Clearing his throat as the buggy came to a stop by the house, Hank nodded. "I will pass that on to my uncle, Captain. I am sure he will consult you in future and by no means meant any harm. We just thought it would be a nice surprise."
Sara turned her head away so no one would see and rolled her eyes.
"It is," the captain replied, looking to his wife as she took his hand. "Still, I would appreciate being consulted in future."
A small smile passed over Hank's lips. "Yes, sir."
"Good." The ranch owner stood and jumped down from the buggy. He held his hand out for Laura and helped him from the vehicle. Hank followed and circled the buggy in order to offer Sara his hand but she had already jumped out before he reached her.
She looked at him expecting a frustrated reaction but all he did was smile at her. She really wished he'd stop smiling at her and back off a little.
He returned his attention to the captain. "There is something else that …well, we thought…would…"
"Spit it out, Hank," the captain urged.
"How about I show you instead?" he replied.
The captain's eyes narrowed and he looked to his wife who just shrugged her shoulders. The ranch owner looked back at Hank. "Am I going to like this or are we going to be having another discussion about what happens on my estate?"
"You will like it. Come and I will show you." Chuckling, Hank held his hand out to Sara.
Sighing internally, she took his hand. She didn't want to, she just wanted to be left alone but if she rejected the gesture in front of her parents she would no doubt be asked as to why.
Hank's hand was warm and sweaty. Why was it always sweaty? Sara thought about Grissom's hands; warm, slightly roughened from years of hard work….but yet gentle despite their large size and obvious strength. She missed his hands; she missed holding them.
Her heart broke a little more.
Hank led the way with Sara by his side; the captain and Laura following behind. They headed for the outer stables and when they reached them, the group stopped, three of them looking rather shocked at the sight before them.
A pack of fine horses, there must have been at least a dozen stood outside the stables being groomed by a number of workers, Robert included.
With mouth agape, the captain looked the fine animals over. "What's all this?" he questioned.
"Horses…"
Again Sara rolled her eyes before Hank continued. That was rather obvious.
"…for you as you are deeply in need of them. Your people will need them for transport and Uncle heard you wished to breed so, this should get you off to a reasonable start."
"A reasonable start indeed," the captain laughed with enthusiasm. "This is just…I'm not sure what to say." He stepped away from his wife and approached the nearest horse, giving him a healthy stroke on the back.
Hank grinned and looked to Sara. "I'll be right back," he said before releasing her hand and approaching Robert who was in the middle of the pack.
Laura stepped up to her husband and looked at him with concern. Sara watched Hank, her eyes narrowing and her ears straining to try and hear what he was saying to their young stable boy. Robert pointed towards the stable. Hank was up to something, she knew it.
"Don't you think this is too much too quickly, Thomas?" Laura questioned. "We will have to pay all this back eventually, you know that don't you? I doubt this is a free gift."
Taking his attention from the horse, the captain looked at his wife with a smile. "Stop fussing, my dear. All will be fine and we will prosper again and be able to pay back anything we owe. It won't be an issue, especially once the breeding kicks off."
Laura sighed but silenced.
Sara couldn't hear what Hank was saying but he soon stepped away from Robert and back towards her. "I have a surprise for you, Sara," he said softly.
Her brow crinkled. She wasn't really in the mood for surprises. "Oh?" she mumbled uninterested.
"Yes," he beamed, holding out his hand again. "I will show you."
She reluctantly slipped her hand into his once more, again grimacing at sticky sweatiness of it. Hank led her past her parents. "We will meet you back at the house," Hank informed them and they nodded in response.
They walked towards the outer stable and Hank urged her inside. "What are we doing in here?" she asked.
"Ah…" He smiled broadly, "…your surprise is in here."
Looking confused, Sara followed his direction when he pointed toward the first stall and then she heard it…a soft but rather energetic snort.
An odd sensation swept down her spine as she pulled away from him and approached the stall. When she saw what the stall housed, she found herself rather lost for words. As the horse turned it's head upon sensing her presence, she was greeted by a light beige, perfectly built, silky smooth Palomino and it was by far one of the most magnificent animals she had ever seen.
Sara just stared at the horse and it stared back.
"Do you like her?" Hank asked as he scooted up behind his fiancée and placed his hands on her shoulders.
She cringed as he began to squeeze her shoulders but she tried to block the feeling from her mind.
"She's beautiful," Sara whispered and smiled a little as the horse took a few steps closer and popped her head over the door. But, as Sara reached out to stroke her gift, she suddenly froze. A horses cry all of sudden penetrated her ears and she had a quick flashback to the night of the fire. The death…the poor horses…Melissa…
Without even thinking about it, she broke away from Hank and rushed from the stable, holding her hand to her mouth. He was quick to follow and she hadn't managed to get far before he was behind her. Grabbing her arm he spun her around so she faced him.
"Sara, where are you going? What's wrong?"
Sniffing hard, she shook her head and averted his gaze. "Nothing…I…I just can't accept the horse, Hank, but thank you. I…I just need to be alone for a while." She tried to pull her arm free but he kept a firm grip on her. A grip so firm, her eyes shot to his as a sudden pang of alarm shot through her gut.
"What am I doing wrong, Sara, tell me?" Hank growled. "I'm really trying here. I want to make you happy but whatever I do, you just don't seem interested. You don't even seem interested in your own wedding. Don't think I haven't noticed…" He took a breath. "What is wrong with the horse? Why don't you want her? Do you have any idea how much she cost?"
"Unlike some, I don't care how much things cost. Just…let me go, Hank," she demanded. "You're hurting me."
He glared at her. "Then answer the question."
Sara gritted her teeth, this was a side of Hank she had a feeling lived within him but she had yet to see. "Because my horse is dead!" she snapped. "And unlike others, I am not so quick to replace those I loved."
Sighing, Hank released her arm and she quickly stepped back.
"Sara, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have grabbed you," he apologized. "I'm just getting a little frustrated. Like I said, I am trying but you need to try too. Do you understand that?"
Sara faced him, a look of sorrow showing that even she could not hide. "There are some things that should come naturally Hank."
"I'm trying to make you happy, Sara," he replied.
"If you knew me at all, Hank, you would know that money doesn't make me happy," she challenged, finally relieved at the chance to express her feelings without an audience.
Hank snorted. "Money makes everyone happy."
"Not me."
"Then, what, pray tell, does make you happy, Sara?" Hank asked, the sarcasm of his tone not lost on Sara. "Tell me….."
"Right now, some time alone. I do need a little time alone, Hank," she said, her voice quite shaky. "You should go home." She didn't give him the chance to reply. She turned and rushed away, just praying he wouldn't follow her…
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Brass and Vartann continued to search the woodland, following the path where the piece of shirt had been discovered.
They hadn't walked very far when they came upon a small clearing and Brass immediately noticed something that didn't look right. A large patch of grass was missing and the soil looked like it has been disturbed and quite recently.
He approached the area and bent to get a better look. "Looks like someone has been doing a spot of gardening," he commented, looking up as his deputy. Standing, his eyes scanned the area and then he looked back to Vartann. "Pop back to the house will you and see if you can find a couple of shovels?"
"Sure thing." Vartann nodded and hurried away.
Brass looked down at the earth beneath his feet and just knew it was hiding something…Unfortunately, these sort of things usually didn't house anything good.
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Vartann was quick to return with two shovels in hand. "These alright?" he asked holding them up as he reached his boss.
"Perfect," Brass replied taking one. He circled the small plot of disturbed earth and then thrust his shovel into the dirt. As he began to dig, his deputy soon got the message and helped.
It didn't take long before Brass hit something that he knew didn't belong in the ground. Throwing his shovel down, he got onto his knees and began shifting the dirt with his hands. Suddenly he sucked in a breath and leaned back on his knees.
"What is it?" Vartann asked as he hovered by Brass's side.
The sheriff nodded downwards and towards his find. Poking out of the soil was a hand. "I think we just found Mr Pritchard…"
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Brass rode back into town after telling Vartann to stay with the body. Once they had dug it up, they indeed found that it was Daniel Prichard. It looked as though he had been beaten and his neck had been broken.
This pretty much confirmed to the sheriff that Michael had been set up and both he and Pritchard were used and made to look guilty. After all, it would have been impossible for Michael to have killed Pritchard.
He entered his office to find Michael was back in his cell, asleep but the door was open and O'Reilly was sat at his desk. The deputy stood upon the sheriff's appearance and slipped his hands into his pockets.
"Find what you were looking for?" O'Reilly asked.
"You could say that," Brass responded, stepping towards the cell. "Is he alright?" He noticed Michael was sound asleep. It was the first time he'd slept since his incarceration.
"Yeah." The overweight deputy plodded towards his boss. "He just said he was tired. The kid seemed a little more relaxed."
"Did he eat?"
O'Reilly nodded. "He did."
"Good." Brass walked to his desk and threw his hat onto it. "Get a wagon, go and meet Vartann at the Pritchard place and bring back the body."
"Body?" the deputy looked a little stunned. "Who died?"
Slipping into his chair, Brass lifted his feet up onto the desk and slipped his hands behind his head. "Our so called bad guy…"
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Sara lay on her bed, head stuffed into the pillow, tears slipping slowly down her cheeks. She could have cried for hours but the knock at the door forced her to shoot upright upon instinct and quickly try and wipe her tears away.
She hadn't quite managed it before the door opened and her mother walked in, closing the door behind her. "Sara?" she questioned softly as she approached the bed.
Sniffing hard, Sara turned away, trying to hide her emotion. She felt the bed dip as her mother sat next to her.
"Sara, look at me," Laura urged, but Sara failed to acknowledge the request.
Suddenly, Sara felt a gentle pressure under her chin, Laura's warm and gentle hand slowly turned her head so she faced her mother. Her chin quivered and she sucked in a ragged breath in an attempt to compose herself.
"Oh, Sara…" Laura whispered, tenderly brushing her thumb over her daughter's cheek.
Closing her eyes, Sara tried to control her breathing, inhaling long, calm breaths as a sudden wave of nausea passed over her. Laura removed her hand, stood and rushed to the dressing table. Opening the top drawer she grabbed a cotton handkerchief and returned to the bed.
"Here..." She held out the handkerchief.
Sara opened her eyes. She half smiled before reaching out to take the gesture. "Thank you," she whispered, running the cloth over her eyes.
Laura once again sat by her side but took her hand this time. "Do you want to tell me why you are crying?" she asked with a tender tone. "Hank said you were not feeling well and decided to come back here. Sweetheart, are you ill?"
Sara thought for a moment. She actually didn't feel all that great all of sudden, although that wasn't her initial motivation for returning to the house. "I'm just very tired, Mother." She wasn't lying, she was tired.
"It's obvious that you haven't been sleeping well."
Sara wiped her nose on the handkerchief and then heard her mother sigh as she tightened her grip on her hand.
"When was the last time you ate?" Laura now asked.
"Um…" Sara's brow knitted softly together as she tried to remember. "…I don't actually know."
"No sleep and no food is not a good combination, Sara," the lady of the house grumbled. "Combine that with all…" Laura stopped in mid sentence, seemingly searching for the right thing to say, "…the current stress you are under… No wonder you don't feel well."
"I'm sure I'll be fine, Mother."
"Well…" Laura stood, "…I'll feel better and so will you, if you eat something. I'm going to go and organize something for you."
Lifting her head, Sara looked her mother in the eye. She really didn't feel like eating and that was very evident given her expression.
"Please, Sara…for me? Please try and eat," Laura begged.
Sara could sense the worry in her mother's voice and refusing her plea would more than likely just inspire more questions. So, she just agreed, it was easy. "Alright…I'll try."
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Sara sat at her dressing table now awaiting her mother's return. She looked at herself in the mirror and despised the image that looked back at her. She looked terrible. Her hair was a mess, she was much paler and thinner than she had been a few short days ago and she had thick black lines forming under her eyes.
Her appearance didn't bother her as much as it probably should have. Maybe she would get so haggard that Hank wouldn't want to marry her….
She broke from her thoughts when she heard the door opening and she stood and turned to firstly see her mother and then Rana behind her carrying a tray.
The housekeeper approached with a smile and placed the tray on the dressing table. "I hope this is alright for you, Miss Sara," she said as she stepped back. "Broth with some freshly baked bread."
Sara hovered over the tray but the instant the smell of the broth caught her nostrils her nausea returned but this time it was worse. Her hand shot to her mouth and her eyes shot to her mother.
Laura quickly stepped forward with concern etched upon her face. "Sara…are you…" She didn't have chance to finish her question. Sara stumbled to the side. Her shoulder collided with the wall and within mere seconds, a retching sound echoed through the room as Sara doubled over and threw up all over the floor.
"Dear Lord," Laura gasped, rushing to Sara's side and slipping an arm around her waist to steady her as she continued to bring up the green, sticky bile from her stomach.
Sara gasped as her stomach cramped over and over again.
"Try and breathe, Sara," Laura soothed as she ran her hand softly up and down her daughter's back. "Rana…" She turned to the housekeeper, "…please take the tray away and bring me some water and a wash cloth."
"Yes, Ma'am." Rana rushed forward and grabbed the tray, retreating from the room with haste.
After a minute or so, Sara straightened herself out and panted, sucking in several well needed breaths. The taste of bile in her mouth was horrid and she almost gagged again as the smell of vomit suddenly hit her senses.
Tightening her hold around her daughter, Laura pulled. "Come, onto the bed and don't worry about the mess or smell. It will be cleaned up shortly."
Sara didn't argue, she simply didn't have the energy. She allowed herself to be guided to the bed and felt very light headed as she sat upon it. She closed her eyes and felt as her mother placed her warm palm upon her forehead.
"You're a little warm." Laura's voice was soft as she gently smoothed her hand over Sara's cheek. "I think you may have a fever."
Rana returned to the room, carrying a bowl. Two servants followed behind her with a bucket, several towels and a mop. She ushered her helpers towards where the accident had happened and they began cleaning up the mess. She then moved to the bed and handed the bowl to Laura.
"Thank you, Rana," Laura said placing the bowl on the bedside table.
Bobbing her head, the housekeeper passed her eyes over Sara's face. "She doesn't look too good, Ma'am," she commented. "But I don't think it's all too serious. A lot of nerves brewing in regards to the wedding, I'm sure. Just rest is what she needs."
Laura reached into the bowl and squeezed most of the water from the wash cloth. She placed it on Sara's face and gently wiped around her mouth. "I hope your right," she replied obviously very worried. She then passed the cloth over Sara's forehead, then, her cheeks and the young heiress sighed enjoying its feel.
"Is that helping?" Laura asked.
"Hmmmm…yes…" Sara whispered her reply but then made a funny face as she ran her tongue over her teeth. The taste in her mouth wasn't very pleasant.
"Do you think you can manage some water, Sara?"
Sara's eyes fluttered open, she wasn't actually sure. "I guess…I can try."
Turning her head, Laura looked to Rana. "Could you go and get some drinking water and an empty bowl, just in case?"
"Yes, Ma'am." Once again the housekeeper rushed from the room and Laura returned her undivided attention to her daughter. "I think we should get you into bed. You look absolutely exhausted and you need to try and sleep off this fever. Let's get you undressed then you can have some water and clean your teeth when Rana gets back."
Again, Sara didn't argue and as the servants finished cleaning up the mess she had made and quickly scuttled from the room, she pushed herself up with her mother's help and began undressing.
A sudden chill ran over her body as her clothing was removed and Laura was quick to help her into her night gown. She then pulled back the cotton sheets of the bed and fluffed up the pillows before helping Sara into the bed.
Sara lay back against the pillows and closed her eyes again as Laura once more took the warm cloth and dabbed it across her face.
Laura's face twisted into a frown, the look of concern evident on her face.
Very soon, Rana was back, carrying a jug of water and a glass. She placed it down next to the bowl. "How is she?" she asked.
"She needs sleep."
Rana nodded her agreement and then reached to the jug and poured a glass of water. "Here Ma'am." She held the glass out to Laura who took it.
"Sara…?" Laura spoke her daughter's name but didn't receive a response. "Sara?" she tried again.
Sara didn't reply or even move.
Frowning, Laura placed the glass down and leaned over the bed and her daughter's still form. "She's asleep," she whispered. Taking a hold of the top sheet, she pulled it over Sara's upper body and then kissed her softly on the cheek. "Rest, my child…rest…"
A/N: Ugh uh, Sara really isn't happy is she? And what will the good ole Captain make of Brass's discovery and will he do anything about it? So much poop is about to hit the fan! Reviews welcome as always! Oh and BTW the 3rd of November will be the 2nd year anniversary of this story, yay! But OMG, have I been writing it that long? :) Have a great week!