The cool night air brushed on his inflamed cheeks and his body merged with the darkness of the night. The coolness of the air had little effect on the emotions trembling him. The desire, the need had changed into disbelief and anger with one spoken sentence, one declaration spoken with a female voice.

Stepping into the shadows of an alley across the street, sapphire eyes burned at the two people exiting the hotel. Hands clenched into fists as he spied on the animated gestures of Nate, the shaking of her head and he turned. Walking down the length of the alley seeking to escape the outrage, the revulsion at her offer, the unexpected offer infuriating him.

How could she make such an offer? What would possess her to take that step? A step where goods were traded for services. Her goods for his services. Why would she do that to herself? Did Nate put her up to it? He looked shocked in the hallway, but was he really? How could she think he’d be the type of man who’d allow her to place herself in such a position? Did she think he was a man who would’ve happily taken what wasn’t his?

His stomach contents rose and he leaned his hand against the building waiting for the heaving to stop. Unsure if the tears in his eyes were from the assault of his thoughts on his body or the assault on his heart and soul. The pain of disillusionment was constricting his heart, leaving him with the urge to fall to his knees and sob like a child.

Making his way to the livery, the blonde entered the stall, his hands welcoming the feel of the powerful muscles of his mount, his emotions slowly subsiding and the storm in his eyes clearing slightly. His hands worked while his mind contemplated, the grooming of the large animal offered the lawman a therapeutic method of refocusing. Complete the job, hand in his star and return home. Those were the three goals he decided he’d focus on, the three lights at the end of this tunnel.

Two hours passed before the blonde reentered his hotel room, only staying long enough in the area where her perfume hung in the air, to grab his saddlebags and bedroll. The aroma teased his senses and he wiped his lips with a shaky hand, seeking to remove the tingling sensation the memory brought forth.

Leaving his room, he stopped long enough to advise the desk clerk to hold his room til his return. The portly man nodded and accepted the money from the marshal, enough to hold the room for two weeks. The lawman stating he wasn’t sure exactly when he’d return.

Attaching his bags and bedroll to his saddle, Heath mounted and under the full moon bathing the small town in a soft light, the blonde left Garwood behind. Charger who was rested after only a few hours carried his master with an ease, almost as if to say the blonde weighed no more than a feather.

Staying on the trail, the marshal kept his horse to a walk heading east towards Eagle Lake. Heath gazed up at the stars in the clear sky, trying to bring up memories of his family in California but only her face came into his head.

Her eyes, the parted lips, the feel of her against him. The memories tumbled inside the blonde head, his mood darkening as the night sky lightened all around him, the shadow lifting from the land, the rising of the fireball in full glory for the lone traveler went unnoticed.

Stopping beside a small stream, a fire was quickly built and coffee put on from his small store of supplies. Visions of her lingered and the blonde knelt on the bank using his hands to scoop up the cold water, its icy coldness numbing his head and face, cooling the last remnants of anger evident in his eyes.

Drying himself, he sat on a rock and dug out his notebook, going over the notes, the questions he’d ask at the bank in Eagle Lake while he ate a quick breakfast of coffee and hardtack. The lawman renewed within him sensed this bank was the starting point he needed to focus on, it could hold the key to everything out of place, missing links in the chain of events.

Putting out the fire and breaking his small camp, Heath ran his hand down the wide nose of Charger, his voice low, his words making the stallion’s ears twitch. “Sooner we figure this out, the sooner we can be back riding with Nick and Coco, boy. Would you like that? Huh, boy? Bet Coco misses you. Jingo, too.”

Nuzzling the man before him, Charger wasn’t quite sure why his master moved and hugged him around the neck, the action was new but the horse liked the feel it created in him. Patting the silky neck one last time, Heath mounted and nudged the stallion into a cantor. His sights set, his plan of action in place and Heath let the massive horse have its head, bending low and encouraging the display of power from the dirt churning beneath its hooves.

The marshal was anxious to work out the weavings in the rug, anxious to find the one strand to pull and unravel the rest, anxious to put distance between himself and this Texas trouble.

Garwood to Eagle Lake required a full days ride on horseback, longer by surrey, however, it was much shorter by train. Since he’d made his escape from Garwood at night, Heath reached Eagle Lake the following night, shortly after the sun went to bed.

Stopping first at the telegraph office, the blonde wired Marshal Thane and his family in Stockton. Paying the man, Heath checked in at the hotel, obtaining his room key before leading Charger to the livery where he liberally groomed his friend. Taking his saddlebags, the marshal made his way to the hotel and climbed the stairs, cleaning up before making his way to the hotel dining room noting he was the lone diner.

Sitting at a corner table, Heath drank his coffee and read the weekly paper for the town, setting the pages made of pulp aside when his dinner arrived. Absently eating the prepared food, he read the paper from front to back before accepting more coffee from the waitress.

“Just arrive, Marshal?” questioned the matronly woman who appeared to be close to fifty, her black hair streaked with silver, her dark eyes small in her round face.

“Yes, ma’am.” replied Heath politely. “Seems like a nice town.”

“It’s okay.” admitted the woman pointing to the paper on the table. “It don’t say it in that paper but do you wanna know how Eagle Lake got it’s name?”

Heath smiled slightly, “Sure, why don’t you tell me, Mrs.?”

“Ma Thames, Marshal.” offered the older woman. “Everyone calls me, Ma.”

“Heath Thomson, ma’am, uh, Ma.” grinned Heath, her friendly deposition putting him at ease. “How’d the town come by it’s name?”

“It’s based on a legend of a Karankawa Indian.” stated Ma, lowering herself into the chair across from him, her forearms on the table.

“Really?”

“Yep, legend says there was a brave who went up against a rival. They say he crossed the lake and came back with an eagle for the maiden they both were chasing after. He won her heart and that’s how the town got it’s name.” informed Ma, studying the inquisitive eyes across from her, seeing the interest there not just polite passing of conversation.

“Very intriguing, Ma.” smiled Heath. “I’m ashamed to admit I’ve never wondered where towns get their names. In fact, I never really considered it, just took the names for granted.”

Waving off his admission, Ma snorted, “That’s cause too many people are concerned with the here and now, Marshal. Most folks around here don’t think about yesterday, all they’s care about is what kind of money can they get hold of today.”

Heath nodded in agreement, “I’m afraid it’s the way our society seems to be headed, Ma. Progress means big bucks. Big bucks means having more money to purchase things. More things means less importance on what you can’t see or touch.”

Several minutes passed while the two lone occupants of the restaurant internally contemplated on the topic of conversation. Heath sipped his coffee, his eyes studying a spot on the table while Ma took his dishes away and returned with two plates of dessert and a coffee for herself.

Sitting across from him, she took a forkful of her apple pie before pointing the silver plated instrument at him, “You’re here about that embezzlement, ain’t you?”

“Why would you think so?” questioned Heath offhandedly, his eyes studying the woman across from him. “I could just be passing through, Ma.”

Chuckling, the older woman shook her head, “Marshal, only time a strange lawman shows up here is to talk to the bank manager about two years ago. Other than what happened back then, it’s mostly quiet, well, at least it was til that damn speculator set up shop here.”

“Speculator?” repeated Heath, his heart stilling slightly. “What’s his name?”

“Morgan Yates.” spat Ma. “Slimy, no good piece of…”

“MA!” warned Heath with a wink. “Careful of my young ears, now.”

Blushing at the gentle scolding from the blonde, Ma’s laughter filled the room, her wrinkled eyes sparkling with amusement. She knew instinctively this was a man of high integrity, his manners proving he was a gentleman in every sense of the word.

“I was only going to say trash.” said Ma with an innocent look causing Heath to chuckle and grin. “He’s always got men hanging around and such. If you’re gonna investigate the bank…you’d best look at him too!”

Sitting back in his chair, Heath smiled, “Thank you, Ma. I’ll be sure to include his place of business on my list.”

Smiling widely, the older woman took his plate and offered, “I like Marshal Jackson. He’s a good man and wouldn’t do anything they’re accusing him of. He always goes out of his way to come through our town. He keeps his eyes on us since we don’t have our own lawman. Night, Marshal.”

Heath watched her head back to the kitchen, her words of respect for Nate left him shaking his head. Leaving some money on his table, he went to the room and undressed for bed.

His mind wondering, her reminder of Nate bringing Cassidy into his thoughts. Sighing deeply, he rubbed his hands over his face and felt the tingling in his lips again. Growling out loud at himself, he leaned on his elbow and punched his pillow several times before laying his head down.

Sleep was long in coming and when it came so did his dreams of her.

The sheer negligee hid nothing as she walked towards him, her hands reaching and pulling him to the bed. Putting her hands on his shirt, she slowly opened his buttons, her eyes smoldering with need.

Pushing open his shirt, she ran her hands over his bare chest, the muscles quivering under her touch. His hands drew her face to his, his mouth pressing against hers, his tongue delving inside, their bodies lowered together on the bed, lying beside each other. Breaking off from her mouth, he moved up to her ear, nibbling on the delicate tissue, her fingers moving down his back and over his bottom, her gasps of delight when his tongue flicked in her ear left him moaning with desire.

Pushing her onto her back, his hand brushed over her breasts before he ran his tongue over the sheer material, her hands moving his head to each one, his mouth giving her pleasure. Her body arched when his hand traveled downward, his mouth captured hers again, his kiss stifling her cry of delight when his hand went under the material and upwards.

Her fingers dug into his back, her body arched, begging for fulfillment. Crying out for him, he led her hands to his buckle, her mouth kissing his, her tongue searching his mouth. Pushing off his pants, she lifted her gown, shifting her hips to meet him and the room was filled with cries of pleasure when they came together.

Instinct moved her body, the newly found motions sending her to heights of ecstasy, his sweat drenched body welcomed the clawing of his back, the legs wrapped around him and his name being cried out before he claimed her lips again. Her sob of passion when he held back sending each of them over the edge of anticipation and with a frenzied pace, they collapsed together, her name leaving his lips.

“Cassidy!” called Heath, moving to hold onto her and falling off the bed onto the wooden floor.

The jolting with the immovable object waking him and he again felt the constriction around his heart when he realized it’d only been a dream. His sweat ridden body curled up into a ball and he pulled the sheet down from the bed, too weak from reality to pick himself up off the floor, his tears mixing with the perspiration flowing down his face.

A week of haunted dreams, a week of loneliness, bitterness and California longing crept by, seven days of hell on earth, hell created by anger and frustration. Days were spent riding and investigating, nights were spent thinking and dreaming of what might have been.

When Marshal Heath Thomson entered the dining room, Ma Thames raised an eyebrow at the blonde’s face which suggested his sleep during the night was anything but restful again. His mood was as dark as the thunderclouds rolling in the distance on the horizon.

Smiling tenderly, the older woman was rewarded with a slight grin from the large mug of coffee she placed before the lawman. Heath took a sip of the coffee, his hand rubbing over his eyes and he smiled his appreciation when his breakfast appeared.

Sipping his coffee, the blonde stated. “Thanks, Ma.”

“My pleasure.” smiled the older woman, moving her large body around the room effortlessly from table to table of patrons.

Pushing his plate away, Heath took out his notebook, his eyes studying the information gathered over the past week with the neighbors of the Jacksons, citizens of Garwood, the manager of Garwood’s only bank, the information uncovered by Marshal John Thane and his own nosing around.

Morgan Yates was interested in the Jackson family ranch or so the rumormill had indicated in the small town of Garwood. Hearing the rumor, the marshal traveled to the Eagle Lake bank, produced a warrant and spent four hours pouring over the books he was given access to. The speculator had purchased the mortgage against the ranch in the course of the normal bank business. Nothing was underhanded about the transaction. Land companies were always buying and selling land, buying mortgages which were sold off from one company to another. If the owners wouldn’t be able to make the payments the company holding the mortgage would receive the land and its buildings upon default.

‘Natural progression of business’ thought Heath with a frown, taking his pencil from his pocket and jotting next to the speculator’s name. Why the Jackson ranch?

Since the inception of the business a little over a year ago, the Yates Land Corporation had only purchased the Jackson mortgage, no land or other mortgages in the area. Why?

It was the business of a land company to buy at low prices and sell at a profit. Based on the accounts at the bank, there was land for sale that was of higher grade than the Jackson ranch. No move had been made since the inception of Yates’ company to purchase prime property. Why?

Adding to the questions was Marshal Thane’s jotted note of Morgan Yates’ prior conviction on fraud and misuse of funds. Heath had already planned on visiting the speculator before the suggestion by the concerned Ma Thames.

Eagle Lake.

The area where the anonymous damaging note to Marshal Thane derived from. The place where the embezzlement occurred and the prior bank manager disappeared along with the funds. The man was never to be seen or heard from again, the money never found.

Now the exact amount of embezzled money appears in an account under the name of the marshal who investigated the embezzlement case. The same marshal whose family owns the ranch Yates seems to be hungering after. The same marshal whose wayward brother shared a cell with Yates during his incarceration for a year before the speculator was released, having served his time. The last bit of information obtained from an inquiry into the names of Yates’ cellmates by a wire to the Texas Department of Corrections.

The key to this mystery would lie with the reason the Jackson ranch was so valuable to the speculator. If Mark Jackson was in cahoots with his old cellmate, the real obstacle to obtaining the land legally by default was Nate. With their father out of commission from his injury and subsequent illness, divulged by the town physician to the marshal, making payments on the mortgage fell onto Nate’s shoulders.

The no trespassing sign had been posted only two months before his arrival back in Texas. The honest bank manager of Garwood stated the Jackson ranch had suffered heavy losses from rustling and other night activities. Nate working to curtail whoever was riding in the night across their land posted the signs, the first legal step to protecting ones home from all outsiders.

Nate Jackson used all his savings to pay this month’s mortgage payment on the ranch and now without his income as a marshal, the screws were slowly tightening around the Jackson family. An infuse of money would be needed to keep the ranch in their name.

This infuse of money, the money needed to save the ranch was the apparent motive for Nate’s turning his back on the profession he loved. The anonymous note, the knowledge in the community of the financial strain the Jacksons were under and the deposit into an account of the same monetary figure never found from the unsolved case Nate worked on two years prior. This was well planned and thought out.

Mark Jackson’s face flashed in his mind and Heath frowned. Nate’s anger over his question about Mark spoke volumes. Nate loved his brother, Heath had no doubts about that and it was blinding him to Mark’s possible involvement. The old scenario of Cain and Abel seemed to be playing out right here in Texas. Nate was too close and protective of those around him. Keep your friends and loved ones close, but keep your enemies closer. Heath wondered if those words were a philosophy Mark subscribed to and lived by.

The blonde sincerely hoped he was wrong but what a coincidence it was to have the man’s old cellmate show up in Eagle Lake. His old cellmate who purchased the mortgage on the ranch. Scowling, Heath felt in his gut it wasn’t a coincidence, he just needed the one link connecting all the clues. If he found it and he was right about the eldest son, the truth would devastate Nate and his family.

Ma Thames filled his cup and cleared her throat, raising the sapphire eyes from the notebook. Holding her hand in front of her body, she pointed with her finger to the two men entering and taking a seat across the room, Heath nodded slightly and smiled his appreciation.

Heath drank his coffee, his mind going over the information gathered, his eyes moving around the room and suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to have this job over with. He didn’t want to be here, he didn’t want to stay here any longer. He wanted the evidence to clear Nate and he wanted to return home, back to California, back to his life as a rancher.

Deciding the only way to end his turmoil and get the job done was shake the apple cart and watch what the two bad apples did after they were thrown off balance.

Sapphire eyes watched the exchange at the other table as he made his way across the room. Grabbing a chair, Heath straddled it, leaning his forearms on the back and gazed intently at the two men before him who were startled by his unexpected action of sitting at their table.

“Gentlemen.”

“Marshal Thomson, still among us I see.” stated Towers with a slight smile, becoming uncomfortable under the intense scrutiny.

Heath stated firmly, “I’m afraid your breakfast will be on hold for a moment, Mr. Towers. I’d like you to accompany me to the bank.”

“The bank opens in two hours, marshal. Couldn’t this wait?” asked the manager after clearing his throat.

“No.” said Heath firmly, standing and looking down at the speculator. “I will be at your office after I’ve finished with the bank, Mr. Yates.”

Nodding his understanding, the speculator put his cup on the table and smiled, “May I ask what this is in reference to, Marshal Thomson?”

Aware the entire room was listening to their conversation, the lawman replied nonchalantly, “It’s regarding the creation of false evidence and your association with your recently released prison cellmate, Mark Jackson to get your hands on the family ranch of Nate Jackson.”

Black eyes burned with fury at the gasps heard throughout the room, his hands clenched in his lap and Morgan Yates fought to control his anger, his words spoken with forced civility. “You are accusing me of all those things?”

“Accuse is a word which signifies they may not be true.” stated the lawman with a smile before growling. “I never accuse.”

James Tower, bank manager, watched wide eyed at the exchange before him, his stomach leaping into his throat. What could this lawman have uncovered the others hadn’t? What loose end had they left for him to find?

Naomi Jackson paused outside her daughter’s door on the way to her bedroom, the crying and sobbing heard from within tore at the older woman’s heart. Raising her hand to knock, she paused and lowered her fist back to her side. Her daughter was a grown woman and until she was ready to speak, Naomi would have to wait and offer her strength at that time.

The bright sienna eyes which sparkled with laughter and love, now were dulled by pain and confusion. Nate had taken his mother aside and explained what occurred between his sister and their friend. Cassidy was ashamed and didn’t want her mother to know what occurred, preferring to wallow in her misery.

Nate had gone to town the next morning and returned, looking in his sister’s hopeful eyes and explained Heath’d left the night before. The blonde had paid for his room two weeks in advance, signifying he would return but the desk clerk was unsure of when.

Cassidy took the information in stride and spent the rest of the day cleaning their home until it glowed. Her hands hurt, her back ached but the manual labor did nothing to drench the aching in her heart, the pain in her soul. She knew she’d caused Heath pain and anger with her innocent statement spoken at the wrong time.

If Cassidy knew where he’d gone, she would have saddled Lady and followed. But she didn’t know, Nate didn’t know and the wait was ripping her apart, bit by bit.

The days were long but the nights were longer, her dreams haunted by the fury in his eyes, the coldness in his voice before he tossed her into her brother’s arms. Sitting in the chair by her window with her legs drawn up to her chest, Cassidy sobbed, her fingers brushing her tears away. It’d been over a week and still the tears flowed at night, the salty droplets fell in the haven of her room.

Staring out the window until she could no longer keep her eyes open and knew she would again experience the returning nightmare from the hotel which replayed itself each night. The blonde stumbled to the bed and crawled under the covers, her head falling onto the pillow from forced exhaustion and her breathing calmed.

The moonlight streamed through the window, falling onto the bed, bathing the rectangle furniture in soft glow. His fingers entwined in hers, the warmth in their joined hands sending a shiver through both of them. Stopping next to the bed, he turned towards her, his eyes filled with love, his smile gentle and his thumb grazed her cheek. Stroking the soft skin, his hands moved and his fingers ran through her silky hair, the sensation tingling her, her eyes closing at the sensual touch.

Moving slowly, he lowered his mouth, his lips brushed hers before he ran the tip of his tongue over her lips. Her mouth parted and her tongue touched the wet area he left. Kissing the corner of her mouth, Heath tenderly moved his lips down her neck, finding the pulsating hollow, teasing her by licking the area of skin before gently kissing it.

Raising her hands to hold onto him, she felt him take hold of her wrists and move his lips up the length of her neck, his breath hot on her skin and he parted her lips, his tongue flicking inside tasting and searching. Her tongue met his, her chest heaved with her gasping breaths, her body ached from his slow deliberate movements.

Using her captured wrists, he sat her on the bed and kneeled, his mouth moving to the bare skin of her chest, the hint of whiteness shown from the open buttons, his tongue reaching out and leaving a line of dampness, her moans loud in the room when he followed the trail with his mouth. Moving to the right, he pushed the material aside nibbling on the creamy skin of one heaving mound before moving to the other.

Trembling and shaking with need, he released her hands, his fingers finished undressing her, his hands pushing hers away when they reached for his clothes. Taking off her garments, she lay back on the bed, naked and yearning for him. His sapphire eyes glittered with desire, his arousal clear but still he stayed clothed. No garments in the way to hamper his movements, she cried out his name when he brought her to the top of the world, his mouth the only instrument, her hands entwined in his hair.

Pleading for him, he undressed and captured her mouth before he parted her legs, his tongue searching her mouth, taking away her cry when entry was made into her virginal body. Her pain was tossed to the side from the pleasures of the old time movement, the old age act of love rocking them in tune, his gentleness tearing her eyes, her hand pulling his face to hers and she sought his mouth with her tongue, her nails digging into his back, her legs wrapped around his slim body.

Rolling onto his back, he held her in place and she felt a glorious surge through her, the need of her body causing her to move over him instinctively, her body seemingly knowing how to respond, what to do to drive him towards the brink.

Unable to hold off any longer, he rolled her onto her back and entwined his fingers in her hands, holding them over her head. Eyes locked on each other, mouths met, tongues searching and he released her hands, the slow movements replaced with an urgency, a hunger of thrusts left both crying out for each other from the explosion within them.

“Heath!” cried Cassidy, her calling voice waking herself and she stared at the pillow wrapped in her arms and legs, the tears starting again when she realized it’d been a glorious dream instead of the nightmare but still was not the solid body of man she wanted. The cries rose up in her and she sobbed into her pillow, her body heaving and shaking from the waves of pain assaulting her.

....Continued