Chapter Eight

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Without even trying, both Nick and Heath asked at the same time, "What did they say?"

It was an answer they'd have to wait for as they heard a disturbance outside and ran to the window to see what the rucks was all about.

Heath left the room thinking to stop what turned out to be two drunkards fighting outside the boarding house-after all, they were fighting so loud it had proven impossible to have any sort of conversation with Chelsie. As he drew close to the entrance way to the hall, he stopped abruptly. He heard a man talking to the Widow Crane. His eyes grew wide as he heard the man claim to be Chelsie's uncle. Since Chelsie had already told both he and Nick that any uncle she had had died years ago, along with all the information on her mother, brothers and sisters, he immediately knew the man was lying.

He hurried to the top of the steps and looked down just in time to hear dark brown- haired gentleman, who appeared to be in his late forties, or early fifties, insisting that he'd been looking for his niece for weeks. "I need to know which room my niece is in. You need to tell me!"

Heath had to hand it to the man; he was a good actor. However, before Widow Crane could give any sort of reply, his voice was ringing down the stairs and filling the foyer. "She will tell a liar no such thing!" He wasted no time in descending the stairs. Heath had the satisfaction of seeing the look of one who had been caught in their own trap appear on the stranger's face. In fact, it was so clear that even the normally clueless Widow Crane saw it.

"He's not her uncle?" The Widow Crane stared at Nick and then at the stranger in the foyer.

"If he is, he looks pretty good for a corpse!" Heath glared at the stranger claiming to be Chelsie's uncle.

"You are..." The man started to deny what Heath had just said only to be interrupted by Chelsie, she and Nick hadn't been all that far behind Heath.

"His name is Roger Lane." Chelsie, who had heard Widow Crane's question to Heath, sent a glare similar to Heath's towards the man-as was Nick. "He's Thomas's father. It's like I was telling Nick and yourself, we have crossed paths a time or two." She gave the two brothers a look that asked, 'Do you want to guess the last time our paths crossed?' She then admitted she was surprised, but grateful, the man had not come into Carson City sooner.

Both Nick and Heath felt nothing but disgust towards the man. "What do you want with my wife! Besides the unthinkable!" Nick demanded in a very loud, and firm, tone as he put his hand on Chelsie's shoulder.

Roger Lane had the decency to look more than uncomfortable; he was also speechless. Oh, sure, he'd heard people say Chelsie Hamilton – Barkley, or heard people refer to her as Mrs. Barkley. Still, he'd convinced himself that 'that girl'-as he so rudely called her- was simply using another name in an attempt to hide. He'd never thought a Mister Barkley really existed.

"I asked you a question!" Nick bellowed again, only, this time he let go of Chelsie and took a step towards Roger Lane.

Mr. Lane mixed a truth with a lie as he told Nick, "My son said they were engaged, but she went missing. I was only looking for his sake!"

Heath and Nick weren't buying that line in the least. When it came to Chelsie, she snapped. "The two of you are liars! Sure, your son wanted me to marry him, so did you! I never said yes, and Nick is the only husband I ever intend to have!"

"You can leave right now!" Nick took another step towards Roger only to have the man hurry out of the boarding house, muttering under his breath as he did so.

Not wishing Widow Crane to hear any conversation he meant to have with Chelsie and Heath, Nick suggested they go for a walk. Once outside, he, Heath and Chelsie looked up and down the street.

"If you don't mind, let's go to that church." Nick pointed to the nearby church building. "I know the good Father. I'm sure he will let us have a room to talk." He might have simply suggested going back to their room only he feared the 'good widow' might find a way to eavesdrop – as he'd seen the way she'd been looking at Mr. Lane and them. He didn't want to chance that. "Once we do, please, tell us what you were trying to tell us before that disturbance broke out in the street- and we all felt strongly we needed to leave the room." He looked at Chelsie and his brother all the while cursing the two drunkards that had caused the unnecessary distraction-and wishing he could do a few things to Roger Lane.

Chelsie might have disagreed, but Mr. Lane's appearance -along with the fact that the 'good' widow liked to talk, had Chelsie feeling the same way. "Alright." Soon they were in the church 's foyer and talking to Father Paul-a salt and peppered haired priest who was in his late fifties.

"We just need some privacy for a little while." Nick explained. "I, we hoped we could use one of your classrooms."

"My office would be better." Father Paul, who liked the Barkleys a lot, smiled warmly as he pointed to a door that stood on the south of the foyer. "No one ever goes in there, but me. There's no need for them to. The door also locks which would make it so you wouldn't have to worry about anyone walking in on the private conversation."

"Thank you." Nick shook the priest's hand and then headed for the office, as did Chelsie and Heath-after thanking him as well.