Chapter Fourteen

Previously:

Desperation now filled Harold. He didn't want to go to jail, and he didn't want to face his step-uncle or Mr. Judson. Without warning, he jumped up and attacked Heath just as Nick-and the conductor who was with him-drew close tothe train car.

Nick and the railroad employee were both horrified when they heard two shots ring through the air. The sound sent them both running up the iron steps that led to the train car's door.

"I'm just glad you're alive." Nick, who felt as if he'd aged twenty years, stood in the aisle looking from Chelsie, who was sitting in her seat, to Heath. The blonde-haired cowboy now had a hole in his sleeve. Miraculously, as Heath and Harold had wrestled for control of Heath's pistol, the first shot had gone through the material but barely grazed Heath's skin. The second shot had found its' way into Harold's chest and killed the man almost instantly. When it came to Harold, the conductor had had the engineer help him move the dead man out of the train car. Nick, Heath and Chelsie didn't know exactly where the two men were going to put Harold, nor did they care to ask.

Thinking of Thomas Lane, his father – and not knowing Crown had only consented to letting Harold try for her – Chelsie spoke up. "What about the others? I mean, Thomas, whoever was with him in my father's cabin and Roger aren't going to simply stop trying-and I doubt this Crown fellow is going to either. I mean, Crown has got to be involved from what you've told me about him." She couldn't hide the fact that she trembled a little as she looked at the two brothers and made the statement.

Nick quickly moved to her side and put his arm around her, pulling her close to him. "No one is going to hurt you. Neither Heath nor I are going to let that happen. Same goes for my mother and Jarrod. Both of them will have your back as well."

Chelsie couldn't help but smile. "And, as much as possible, I'll have your backs."

Heath had both Nick and Chelsie chucking a little when he interjected, "We'llall have each other's backs."

"I don't think we'll have any other excitement." Nick looked out the window. "Well, at least not until we get home."

Heath and Chelsie also looked outside. They could see a train coming towards them. "Looks like help is arriving." Heath said as he left the train car, saying he was going to talk to the conductor.

The moment Heath walked out the door, Chelsie sat in her seat while Nick sat in his.

"Been awhile since my heart jumped that high," Nick closed his eyes, leaned back and threw his long legs up and over the seat in front of him. He might not have done that only he knew that-unless the train picked up more passengers-there would be no one to complain.

For her part, Chelsie simply turned her head and gazed out the window. For a few minutes, neither one of them spoke-both simply trying to let their nerves settle from Harold's actions. Slowly, Chelsie turned her gaze away from the scenery outside to Nick. At first, she thought he'd fallen asleep. That is, until he opened his eyes and looked at her.

"Something on your mind?" He didn't like seeing her appear so stressed.

"Sooner or later, they- I mean, Heath and the rest of your family, are going to want to know why you gave me permission to use your name if necessary." Chelsie rubbed the back of her neck as she answered him.

Nick sighed and, moving his feet back to the floor, sat up. "Heath's already asked; I told him I didn't care to say."

"And he accepted that?" Chelsie was amazed. As good as her family might be, if she had even hinted at something-anything-they'd have demanded answers relentlessly.

"Didn't like it, I could tell." Nick sighed again. "However, he didn't press the issue."

Without half thinking, Chelsie took her thumb and rubbed the top of her other hand. "I just don't know what I'll say if anyone corners me. As I told you before, to this day I haven't spoken a word about that night to anyone."

Nick found himself putting his hand on top of hers and squeezing it slightly. "I guess we could admit we were involved in an unexpected skirmish-and that you wound up saving my life. We wouldn't be lying. We'd just conveniently leave out the rest of the details." Nick looked as if he wanted to apologize. It tore at Chelsie's heart.

"Nick," She turned her hand around in his and squeezed his hand back. "None of what happened that night was your fault or mine. War is hell. That's all there is to it. When it comes to war, you know as well as I do, only a part is ever written down… and nothing ever connected to any sort of battle is written in my journal." She paused a slight second before continuing. "Most men-and women-can't get themselves to do such a thing." She paused and then shrugged her shoulders. "You're right though, we could admit to the unexpected fight. I mean, any woman that might have actually seen any sort of combat usually did it under some sort of disguise. And, since I've never heard so much as a peep of any skirmish with a young girl, wearing a dress, fighting alongside any soldier, I doubt we're the only ones who have kept quiet."

"Neither have I; I mean, you won't find a word about that particular skirmish written in any of my journals." He paused and then admitted he feared his mother and older brother might press the issue. "They have a way of knowing things, and do not appreciate being kept in the dark. I am concerned they'll press for answers."

A somber look came upon her face. Slowly, she shook her head. "I hope not because, right or wrong, the only thing I'll ever tell either of them is what we just what we talked about now. They, and anyone else who might find out and corner me on it, won't hear a word about anything else out of me other than what we've already discussed." Her eyes silently begged to know if he was going to hold that against her.

Nick took his hand off hers and rested it around her shoulders. "Don't worry; I'm still in your corner. Only," he couldn't help but grin. "We've got to avoid those puddles...water or mud doesn't matter."

Maybe it was the way Nick made the statement or the look that came upon his face as he spoke – maybe a combination of both- only when Heath, who opened the train car door seconds after Nick had spoken, he found the dark-haired rancher and Chelsie practically rolling with laughter.

"Well," Heath shook his head, "Guess laughter is better than gunshots."

His words only made Nick and Chelsie laugh even more.