Chapter Eighteen

Excerpt from Ch 17

"Could we go for a walk? The scenery around your home is wonderful." She stepped away from the fence as she spoke and looked around once more. "The scenery I saw when we rode out here was equally awesome as well. I'd love to see a bit more, along with the beautiful colors that are starting to appear." She pointed towards the picture that was beginning to appear in the sky.

Nick couldn't help but beam as he smiled wide-allowing his dimples to show clearly. "I think that can be easily arranged, my lady." He then had her laughing as he asked her not to tell Jarrod he was borrowing 'his phrase'. "No, he doesn't act as if he owns the phrase only he likes to give me a 'hard time' when he learns I've said it. Blame it on our childhood and stupid remarks I said at about ten or eleven years of age."

"I have always loved watching the sun set." Chelsie sat on a boulder that-while huge enough-wasn't so large that she couldn't climb up on it and sit comfortably next to Nick. He had climbed up seconds after she had. "There might not be tons of colors in a sunset only it's still amazingly breath taking to see such a sight."

"I agree, watched more than one through the years." Nick laid his hand on top of Chelsie's. "I am surprised no one has put a ring on your finger. Are the men in the area you live in blinder than a bat?" There was a bit of laughter in his eyes as he asked the question thinking, surely, she had to have been noticed in the past.

"Oh, I've had two serious suitors; though, neither one cared to hang around when I refused to bow down and kiss the ground for them." Chelsie rolled her eyes.

"I know the kind." Nick told her – even as he let out a laugh.

"What's so funny?" Chelsie re-positioned herself on the boulder, enabling her to look straight at Nick.

"I don't know why only all of sudden I could see myself and Heath on the train-when we were traveling to Nevada. He said he was surprised I had let you go. That is, after I told him a little bit about you." He then told her what he'd said to Heath about how young they were and her father.

Chelsie couldn't help it, she burst out laughing at the picture that came into her head. "Not allow it? That is an understatement! More like he would have grabbed a rifle, along with a rope! In spite of the fact he was a solid six inches shorter than you, he'd have hog-tied and then shot you!" Okay, she couldn't have guaranteed that exact outcome only it still wouldn't have been a pretty sight for sure.

Once he quit laughing, Nick grew serious. "With the man who came after you on the train, Roger and the telegraph operator out of the picture, I can't help but wonder who else Thomas has in on his plans." Without half-thinking, Nick slid his arm around Chelsie's shoulders and pulled her close.

Chelsie thought a moment and then flicked her wrist. "Not sure, only I would think at least that man who was with him in my father's home."

"And" Nick, clueless to the fact that Crown was simply keeping an eye on Thomas, said, "whoever Crown may send to help. We're going to have keep an eye on you; they're sure to try to pull something else."

Chelsie smiled; it felt good to know Nick still cared enough to want to do his best to protect her. When it came to Thomas, there had to be a way to thwart the man's plans. After all, the land her step-grandfather had left her could not wind up in the railroad's hands-as she was sure it would only mean more trouble for Nick, his family and all their neighbors. "For now, let's not worry about Thomas, the land or whatever is coming. For now, let's continue enjoying the sunset. Then, maybe, tomorrow-we can go into town. I'd like to see Stockton."

"That can be arranged." Nick chuckled as they continued sitting on the boulder until the sun had disappeared behind the far-off mountains.

While Nick and Chelsie were watching the sunset and talking, Thomas was waving a telegram in the air and pacing back and forth in the office of his friend-the one who had been with him when they went to visit Chelsie's father.

"He failed! That imbecile failed! Jack said he got himself killed! And, from what Jack says, Chelsie's with the Barkley family outside Stockton, California!" Thomas, who had been so certain that Chelsie would be delivered to him and forced to marry him one way or the other by now, was referring to Harold. It was news he might have learned sooner only Jack, the brown-haired young man he'd hired to go find out where Harold and 'that girl' were, had purposely taken his time in finding out anything. Truth was, Jack thought Thomas rude, near impossible to be around and, to top it off-the man paid as little as he could for any job he handed out to anyone. That being the case, he hadn't exactly pushed to get the information.

"What are you going to do?" George Langston- a premature bald fellow in his late thirties, leaned back in his chair and asked. Crown's man said Harold was the only help we were getting."

Thomas growled as he stormed over to the window that was a few feet from his friend's desk. He had hoped the amount of land, along with 'getting even with the Barkleys', would be enough to get more help from Mr. Crown. He sure didn't have the money to hire anyone at the moment. Maybe… "You know Stockton; people…"

"No," George would admit he was on the greedy side, but he wasn't stupid either. He wasn't going to get involved in trying to get anything, or anyone, away from any of the Barkleys. He might have felt differently, only, he had other matters to deal with-ones totally unrelated to Thomas. He couldn't afford to do anything more than to push Thomas to do something about 'this problem'. "YOU need to go to Stockton and get that woman. I'm willing to convince Crown to pay a sizable amount for the land-but I'm staying here."

Thomas hesitated. He had mostly gotten someone else to do any sort of 'dirty work'. He didn't like the idea of actually having to do something himself if he didn't have to. However, he finally relented-seeing nothing else he could do. "Fine!" He stormed out of the office, out the front door of the building and headed for the telegraph office. Not that he intended to send any messages, but that was where the stagecoach would soon be picking up any passengers who were leaving town.