Chapter Five

Excerpt from Ch 4

The good reverend, who actually knew more than he was telling his wife, due to conversations he'd had with Mrs. Barkley-even though he got the strongest impression the woman wasn't telling him everything, chastised his wife. "We don't need to be passing judgment on anyone when we don't know all the details." He then reminded her that Mrs. Barkley had been kind enough to promise to have lunch ready for them by the time they got home. "I think we best get going."

Nick, who was putting his gloves back on, and Heath walked out of the cafe and headed for a building that stood approximately fifty feet way. A sign hung in front of the establishment that read "Jackson's Bed and Breakfast'. "Let's see if this place is as nice as the lad in the stable said it was."

"Did you notice how many heads we turned once we mentioned our names?" Heath turned his head just enough to look at his brother.

"Sure did, surprised no one approached us." Nick didn't bother adding how badly he'd wanted to make those same people do more than talk; he figured that fact was a given.

"Whoever the woman is, she's got to still be in town." Heath said as the two brothers walked up the steps to the boarding house-which, in his opinion, needed a fresh coat of red paint.

"I'd say so." Nick opened the front door, soon he and Heath were standing what seemed to be a living room- one which was almost as large as the Barkleys'. A blonde haired woman, who appeared to be in her thirties, walked into the room and smiled at the men.

"May I help you?"

"Yes, you could ma'am." Heath replied, since the woman was looking at him. "I'm Heath Barkley. My brother, Nick, and I need a room. Don't suppose you have one available?"

It didn't pass by either brother than the woman stiffened ever so slightly. Though, she simply acknowledged she did indeed have a room. "Though, my name is Martha Crane, or Widow Crane, not ma'am." She went on to say how much the room was and asked how long the two men would need it.

"Shouldn't need it more than one night," Heath assured her as he handed her the amount she'd specified. Once she'd told them which room was theirs, and handed them the key, the Widow Crane left the room.

"You know, Nick." Heath started walking up the stairs that led to the room they'd been given. "People might not approach us and say anything. I mean, they probably think you and your wife decided ahead of time when it comes to where to meet."

"You have a point only how are we doing to find Chelsie -or whoever it is- if someone doesn't tell us?" Nick growled low.

"Well, I'd think-whoever it is- would be keeping their eyes out as well." Heath walked into the room they'd been given and looked around.

The room wasn't exactly large, only there was still enough room to hold two beds, a tall dresser, a hat rack and a small bathroom. The bathroom could be seen through a door to his left; it wasn't shut.

Nick, who had also looked around, put his hands on his hips-took a second look-and then shrugged his shoulders. "Well, suppose we could go get a change of clothes from a store. Do some sightseeing. Hopefully, we'll hear something-or 'Mrs. Barkley' will." He hoped so anyway, waiting wasn't his strong point-and he was still thinking he could get somewhere faster if he acted like a bull in a China shop. Only, once again, it was the thought of endangering Chelsie (if it was her) that reigned him in.

Heath who didn't have to ask what Nick was thinking, inwardly sighed. He hoped it wouldn't be too long before they bumped into the woman responsible for getting Nick to leave California and travel to Nevada.

While Heath and Nick were checking into the boarding house, Mrs. Alder was walking out of her kitchen into the rectangular living room in the Alder home. She could see Mrs. Barkley through the large front room window, the frame of which held a good dozen smaller windows. The good Reverend had promised her they take out all the small windows and replace it with a large, once piece, window within the next few months. After a moment, Mrs. Alder walked through the room, opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. Soon she was standing next to the woman she knew only as Mrs. Nick Barkley-the visitor was holding onto the railing that ran along the front of the porch and wrapped itself around both corners of the house.

Mrs. Alder looked at her guest. A part of her wanted to talk about the Barkleys in town-only her husband had talked to her on the way home. As much as she did not like it, he was right. Assuming things, and talking about those assumptions, was flat out gossip-and that, gossiping, was something she had honestly been working on not doing. After all, she didn't appreciate it when anyone talked about her behind her back. Finally, doing her best to speak politely-and hoping like crazy that Mrs. Barkley would realize she only spoke out of genuine concern for her, started talking. "Please, forgive me if I'm out of line, Mrs. Barkley, only, maybe you should wire your husband. Make sure everything is okay."

"If he is not here by Friday, I will do that." The Alders' guest excused herself and walked down the steps that led up to the porch. "I'm going into town. I have some errands to run." She didn't bother saying they were unnecessary errands, only an excuse to go into town.

At the last minute, Mrs. Alders changed her mind. "Mrs. Barkley."

Her guest stopped and turned around. "What?"

"I.. well, there are a couple of men that came to town today." She went on to say what she'd seen and heard. "I'm not saying one of them is your husband, and my husband would probably be upset if he knew I was saying anything at all. Only, well…" she paused and then said, "I figured it wouldn't hurt-as long as I didn't swear it was your husband was in town. And, naturally, as long as I did not speculate on the matter to anyone else."

"No damage done, I promise." 'Mrs. Barkley' smiled, turned and headed for the small barn that sat not a hundred feet from the Alders' home.