JC pulled his pocket watch out, checking the time. He had a few minutes before the train arrived. He sat on the bench on the platform, his mind filled with thoughts of the past. They’d received the first telegram last month, informing JC that his brother Rory and his wife had died in a streetcar accident in Boston. JC was saddened by the loss, at the last of his family dying so far away from him. JC hadn’t seen his older brother in years, since JC had left West Point, but they’d kept in touch sporadically though letters. JC had last written Rory six months ago, telling his brother of his move to Oregon. Rory hadn’t written back. The other telegram had come last week, informing JC that his inheritance from Rory was arriving on the train on this day. JC was stunned, wondering what it could possibly be. JC knew Rory was a banker, but money wasn’t important to either of them, having had enough of it most of their lives. JC couldn’t imagine what was so important to Rory to send all the way JC in case of his death. “JC!” JC looked over at the voice calling for him, smiling as Tom Wilkins, the manager of the Freedom station waved him over. “Hello, Tom,” JC said, walking over to the other man. “Sorry about your brother, JC,” Tom told him. Nothing was private when telegrams came though Tom “Thanks.” Tom filled his pipe from a pouch of tobacco. “Have any idea what you’re getting?” JC shook his head. “Not a clue, Tom.” “Hmm,” Tom said. “Where’s that Justin? We never see enough of him in town.” JC smiled, thinking of his young lover. “Justin’s just…not comfortable in town.” Tom raised a brow at JC’s words. “JC, you’ve been here over a year. It’s time he came out of his shell.” He lit his pipe. “In fact, the missus and me were just talking about that it’s time he came to town more often, started meeting the folks here. Maybe even go to church with us.” “Tom…” Tom just smiled and puffed his pipe. “JC, there’s nothing in this world more evident than when people love each other. Now, I won’t go into your private business, because that’s not what we do here. But let me tell you, it’s not up to us to say what’s right and what’s wrong.” He patted JC’s arm “You just tell him he’s more than welcomed in town, anytime.” JC blinked at Tom’s words. This town, these people, were more than he expected, more than he deserved. “I’ll tell him, Tom,” he said softly. Tom nodded, squinting down the tracks as the train approached. “Good.” The train approached, steam hissing and brakes squealing. JC walked to the boxcars, figuring that whatever Rory had sent must be there. The doors slid open, and the attendant handed down the mail to Tom. “Anything for Chasez?” he asked. The man shook his head. “Nothing for anyone by that name back here, son,” he told JC before sliding the door shut. JC frowned and stepped back as the train departed the station. He walked toward the station house to speak to Tom when something at the end of the platform caught his eye. *** Justin heard the jingle of harness and stepped out onto the porch. The Shepard, Fagin, dogged his heals as always. The sun was bright on the porch, making it hard for Justin to see JC as he dropped from the wagon to the ground, then reach around behind him, taking something off the seat “Hey!” Justin could see the bright smile that JC gave Justin. “Hello, Just,” Justin walked down from the porch, shading his eyes. “Did everything go okay? What was it your brother send?” Justin peeked around JC into the wagon, his eyes going wide at the site behind his lover. “JC?’ JC sighed. “Justin,” he said, moving a bit to the right and bringing the girl to stand in front of him. “This is my niece, Lucy.”