Chapter 3

Maybe I ought to call him Brant and see what happens, Nick thought to himself when he and Jarrod rode into town the next morning. It wasn't an idle thought. It was genuine and serious and for that reason he didn't say it out loud.

Even when they hitched up outside Jarrod's office and Jarrod said, "Do you have yourself together for this?"

"Yeah," Nick said.

Jarrod said, "I'll tell them you're along just to make arrangements with Mason for visiting up in Sonoma soon. Mason will buy that."

"And I'll do it," Nick said. "I really do want to get up there and have a look. I'll take Heath along."

Jarrod nodded. "I'll go on over to the bank and get the money. It won't take long. I've already told them to have it ready for me. You wanna come with me?"

"If it's all right with you, I'll go on over to the Stockton House and walk Mason and Grant over to your office."

Jarrod looked a little concerned.

Nick had to have more time to assess this Grant fellow. Something about him – his height, his bearing, his way of talking - was making Nick think of Col. Jason Brant, and he didn't know what it was. He didn't know if it was legitimate. He said, "I'll be careful. I just want a little more time around Grant without doing business. I'll tell them you sent me to see they found their way to your office. Come on, Jarrod. Trust me."

Jarrod said, "All right," with a sigh. "I'll see you in a few minutes."

Jarrod headed for the bank, across the street and down a block from his office. Nick headed for the Stockton House, a couple blocks in the other direction.

He meant it when he told Jarrod he had himself together for this, because as he went to the Stockton House, Nick did have a plan. He'd watch. He'd listen. He might bring up the war, or he might not. He would be careful not to call Grant by the wrong name, unless some opening appeared, and even then he would not do it until closing was over, the money had exchanged hands, and they were all parting company.

Because if Grant was Brant, if he was the man who ordered the troops to fire on Mayville, should he face justice for it? Nick knew that part was not his call. Identifying him was. The rest was up to Jarrod and the law.

Nick went into the hotel and found Grant and Mason checking out and arranging to leave their bags there. They saw him come in. Nick managed to crack a business-like smile. "Good morning, gentlemen," Nick said.

"Good morning," Mason said with a tone of surprise in his voice.

"I thought I'd come in for the closing and see that you both got to Jarrod's office without getting lost," Nick said. "And then I'd arrange for me and my brother Heath to get up to Sonoma sometime soon."

Mason looked a little relieved. "That all sounds fine to me. Charles here will be heading straight back east from here after closing, but I'll be happy to help make arrangements for you and your brother."

"I understand family business has put you in a hurry," Nick said to Grant.

Grant just nodded.

"Are you leaving right away?" Nick asked.

"The two o'clock train to Sacramento," Grant said.

"That'll be my train too but we'll part company there," Mason said.

"Well, my prosperous brother Jarrod and I will see you have a good lunch to head off on," Nick said. "He's at the bank and will meet us at his office. Why don't we head on over there?"

XXXXXXX

Jarrod took very little time at the bank. The cash was ready for him, and he was heading out to his office as soon as he signed for it and picked up the valise. He was vigilant as he headed across the street, concerned that leaving the bank with a valise was a surefire sign that he had money on him, but the street was full of people and he was only traveling a block on foot. It wasn't likely anyone would slug him and grab the valise in broad daylight. Still he was happy when he reached his building, went inside and unlocked the door to his office.

He put the valise under his desk, made sure all the papers were in order and on top of the table in the corner, made sure he had pen and ink ready. Then, satisfied, he went to the window to see if Nick, Mason and Grant were coming yet. He did not see them.

As he turned away from the window, the door opened. The sound made Jarrod think they had already arrived – but it wasn't them who came in.

It was a man he did not know. Not a tall man, a man maybe his own age with a slightly red beard. The man was dressed in dark jeans, a white shirt, leather vest and a dark Stetson. And a gunbelt. The gun was in his hand, and pointed at Jarrod.

Keep calm, Jarrod told himself, even if he was totally taken by surprise. This guy had probably seen him come out of the bank with the valise. "Is this a robbery?" Jarrod asked, looking at the man's eyes and not the gun.

The man closed the door behind him. "Have a seat, Mr. Barkley," he said and signaled Jarrod to sit down behind his desk.

Jarrod did not sit. "What do you want?" he asked.

"Not the valise," the man said.

That caught Jarrod by surprise. He thought for a second, then said, "What is it I can do for you then?"

"Are they out there?" the man asked.

They. "Who?" Jarrod asked.

The man simply said, "Jason Brant and your brother Nick and the other man."

Now Jarrod nearly fell over. Despite the shock of hearing that name, Jarrod just said, "I don't know any Jason Brant."

"No, he's using the name Grant, I know," the man said. "Sit down, please."

Jarrod tried to decide what to do. If he sat, there was a gun in his right-hand drawer, but this guy would probably not let him reach it. If he stayed on his feet, maybe he could keep this guy talking, and maybe get a look at the window again to see if Nick, Grant and Mason were coming. Maybe he could signal them.

He turned very slightly as he made it look like he would sit down. He glanced out the window, saw Nick out there crossing the street. Jarrod waved slightly with his hand palm down, hoping he had kept his visitor from seeing the move. He kept turning. "Why don't you tell me who you are and what this is all about?" He started to sit.

"Sit down, now," the man said. He gave no indication that he had seen Jarrod's signal to his brother. "Put your hands on the desk in front of you and keep them there."

Jarrod sat down. He glanced at his right-hand drawer as he did, but he did not make a move for the gun, not yet. He put his hands on the desk. He looked up at the man. "One shot from that gun and this whole town will be on your back."

"You sit nice and quiet and it won't go off," the man said. He was very calm, very resolute – very military.

"Whatever it is you want, tell me about it and maybe I can help you get it."

"You are helping me get it," the man said. "Just sit quiet for a few more minutes."

Jarrod did not talk anymore, not yet anyway. Now he listened – for footfalls on the steps, for a sound of the door opening. If Nick had seen his signal, those footsteps and the sound of the door might not be coming. And then…..what?