Chapter Eleven

A/N I have been unable to find out what the population of Manteca, California would have been in 1878-so, I may very well be way off. All I could find out for sure is that the town was founded somewhere in the 1860's and didn't really being to explode-as it were-until the twentieth century. At least the site I was looking at is claiming that. So, when it comes to the town's population, I'm having the population around a thousand. When it comes to any scenery that would have existed back then...if it happens to fit reality… I will simply have to chuckle because I haven't taken time to research that topic.

A/N Any time connected to traveling, I got off the internet.

Excerpt from Ch 9

"We received word that the stagecoach that is due in tomorrow never made their stop in Ripon. I have gathered a few men willing to help me go in search of the coach and the five passengers it held-two of them being my niece and nephew. They're waiting outside on their horses. I was hoping at least one of you would be able to join us." Fred explained.

It was almost five o'clock by the time Nick and the others rode into Manteca. Normally, it would only have taken *two to four and a half hours to travel from Stockton to Manteca, only they'd had one thing after another slow them down-including one of the men being thrown from his horse and hurt. Thankfully, the injury the gentleman had received wasn't life threatening; still, his brother had turned around and taken the injured man home. In a matter of minutes, the men had stabled their horses at the local livery stable and were now standing on the south end of the main road leading through the growing town.

"First thing we best do is get something to eat and then ask around, see if anyone by chance came from the direction the stagecoach to Ripon was coming." Nick, whose stomach was protesting the fact that he hadn't had a decent meal before leaving the ranch, said seconds before his stomach growled loudly—as if to say it agreed with his statement. The sound made his brothers, Fred, and the men still with them laugh.

"We best do what he suggests." Barrett, who had also joined the group, grinned. "If we don't, none of us will be able to speak over his stomach."

"Funny, real funny," Nick shot his employee a playful glare and then followed Fred, who was heading towards the livery stable. His brothers, Barrett, and the other men followed suit.

Manteca was busy with activity. Men on horses rode through town, while others drove their wagons loaded with various items. Many of the town's residents were walking around, visiting, looking through different store windows or simply going about their daily business. Nick and the others could smell freshly baked bread floating through a nearby bakery's open window. It seemed to mingle with the smell of leather and fresh hay from the stable they'd just left. It didn't help do anything to calm Nick's hunger- or that of anyone else who wanted to eat.

"I think half of us need to eat while the other half asks around. Once each group is done, we can swap places," Fred spoke up, his voice carrying over the noise of the town. "By then, if we ride hard, I think we can make Ripon by dark. It's not like it is winter. If not, we can always set up camp. It's not like none of us hasn't had to do that in the past. If you don't mind," he looked at Jarrod, "you can come with me."

"Fine with me." Jarrod replied.

Nick nodded as he looked around. "Fine, I'll take Heath, Barrett and whoever else you want in my half. We'll ask questions at the cafe. Doesn't make sense to leave that to you."

Fred agreed. "Alright, let's get to it then."

The group split up, with Nick leading his half of the men towards the cafe. The tantalizing smell of bread and bacon, mixed with coffee, grew stronger as they approached the building, making Nick's stomach growl even louder 'The sooner I get a hot meal in my stomach the better' he thought as he opened the door to the cafe.

Once inside the men looked around. The sturdy tables and chairs reflected a soft, gentle glow from the light that was resting upon them. Beautiful pictures had been hung carefully on the wall. The quiet conversation, along with the sound of people working in the kitchen, helped created an atmosphere that felt warm and friendly.

A sign that read 'Seat Yourself' could be seen standing off to their right. Nick wasted no time making his way to a corner table, as did Heath. It wasn't long before all the men were seated and ordering their food-from a waitress who, unfortunately, could tell them nothing when it came to the missing stagecoach or the passengers on it.

"Boss," Frank- a blonde-haired man who was pushing forty and had been working for the Barkleys for close to five years-put his fork down. He remembered questioning the suddenness of Nick's marriage and the way Duke had put him in his place once Nick had stormed away from the men. "I want to apologize, for what I said before. Duke is right. You have the right to marry anyone you wish. I ...I guess I was just worried because none of us have ever met this Mariah or this brother that was supposed to be bringing her to Stockton."

'You're not alone in that field' Nick though -even as he remembered what Jarrod had told him-information Charles Baker had given Jarrod, along with the horrendous inward struggle he himself had had. "You don't need to worry about Mariah or Brian." Then added-due to Charles's warning that neither Brian nor Mariah would care to think they'd been misled, "That is unless you cross them. In fact, unless he says different, you will refer to him as Mr. Keagan. Same with Mariah, unless she says different, it is Mrs. Barkley." 'Hope she doesn't mind being given a nickname. Can't have everyone on the ranch making it so my mother and wife had to guess who's been addressed' Nick thought-even as he was still trying to picture himself with a wife.

Before any of the men with Nick could make even the smallest comment, a weathered-beaten looking white-haired stranger seated at the table next to the one Nick was sitting at-who appeared to be pushing sixty, busted up laughing. A younger, red-headed man sitting with the older gentleman, glared and hissed. "Why don't you just be quiet!"

"I can't!" The gentleman turned around and looked at Nick and the men sitting with him. "Name's Michael Cox, and this is my nephew, Thomas. I guess it's my turn to apologize-for being unable to keep from laughing. It's just that some men," the gentleman threw an amused glanced towards the young man with him, "Some have learned the hard way not to go up against Brian Keagan or try to push his sister around." He then stood up, saying he and his nephew had to go. "That is, unless you want to stay and start telling stories." Mr. Cox looked at his nephew, who simply hurried out of the cafe. Mr. Cox started chuckling and walked out of the cafe.

The silence that was left behind was only broken when Nick-who wished Mr. Cox had told at least one story connected to his nephew and the Keigans- said they'd best hurry and finish eating and get back to the business at hand.