Written in 20 minutes. No time for typos or rereads.

It was another two days before Jason could put together a plan that would not only see Ric Lansing arrested and convicted of theft, but that might have a chance of protecting Elizabeth and her ranch from anything the jackass might try as revenge.

He should have realized that Elizabeth would be making her own plans — that she hadn’t asked him for help, only advice. He should have remembered that it had been a long time she’d looked to him to solve her problems.

The first warning that matters might not proceed according to his carefully constructed plan came when Patrick Drake rode into town and stopped at the local hotel to check in for a few days.

He’d known Patrick and his family since childhood, but Drake hadn’t wanted to stay in Diamond Springs. He’d gone to one of the new schools that opened in San Francisco and taken up the study of medicine. Last Jason had heard he’d stayed in the city and married. He frowned when he saw the long-legged doctor hitch a horse outside of the hotel.

“Patrick Drake?”

Patrick turned at Jason’s call and grinned. “Look at you. Jason Morgan, sheriff!” He held out a hand and Jason shook it. “Never thought you’d come back to Diamond Springs. Thought you were smart like me and got out while you could.”

“My grandfather passed away,” Jason explained. “My grandmother doesn’t have anyone other than Dillon.”

Remembering Dillon as a youth, Patrick nodded. Nothing more was needed. He squinted, looking around the dusty main street. “Amazing how much worse this place is. I can’t wait to get home.”

“What brings you back?”

Patrick hesitated, tipped his hat back on his hat—not the wide-brimmed hats the other men in town wore, but a fashionable one that looked out of place. “I probably shouldn’t say, but a friend is looking to sell some horses. She raises good stock, and I have some friends in the area still looking to get into breeding.” He shrugged. “I said I’d help.”

“She,” Jason repeated, his mouth sour. “Elizabeth.”

“Uh, yeah, but if you wouldn’t mind keeping that to yourself—I’m not supposed to tell anyone. I’m pretty sure she means Lansing and his ilk, but—” He jerked an elegant shoulder. “Lizzie and I have been writing since I went away to school, and she came to the wedding. Truth be told, I’m glad she’s finally leaving this place. Robin can’t wait to help her get set up—”

Jason cleared his throat. “When is—when is she planning to go?”

“Well, that’s why I’m here. Elizabeth is planning to go to San Francisco on the first train tomorrow,” Patrick told him. He furrowed his brow. “I’d heard you married some years ago. What’s the interest in Lizzie and her ranch? You had your chance—”

“It’s complicated,” Jason said shortly. “Excuse me.”

He returned to the jail, grabbed the reins of his horse, and swung himself up on the back.

—

Elizabeth grimaced and looked apologetically at her housekeeper. “I’m so sorry, Gail. I know this is quite short notice. I just—” She folded her hands, looked around her parlor and sighed again. “Patrick Drake is staying for a few days to take care of transporting my things—”

“I just don’t understand the rush,” Gail muttered as she set a tea tray down in front of Elizabeth. “Or the selling of the horses—” She stared at Elizabeth. “If your grandmother were here, she’d have the truth of it from you—”

“She’s not here,” Elizabeth said softly. “And I must make the best choices I can from the options given to me.”

She heard the thunder of a horse as it galloped up the drive. She frowned, got to her feet as she crossed to the window and drew back a curtain. Surely Ric couldn’t have learned about her plans—

But no, it was Jason in her front yard, his brow furrowed and his jaw set. Elizabeth took a deep breath. She was sure he felt sorry—even guilty—for what was happening, but once she explained it to him, surely, he’d understand that this was the best way to prevent Ric from doing more damage.

She met him on the front porch, holding up her hand. “Please. Cameron is napping.” She lifted her chin. “How did you find out?”

“I saw Patrick in town,” Jason said. He stared at her for a long moment. “You’re leaving.”

“Yes. I—I have little choice. There’s no point in fighting him, Jason. His forgeries will stand up in a court. Cameron and I—” Her voice trembled with the memory. “He fought Ric with everything he had. By the end, he knew what had happened to his sons, and he was determined to prevent Ric from stealing little Cameron’s future as well. But he couldn’t—we lost the house in town, and everything in it.”

“I can help—”

“I’m sure you think you’ve got an idea,” Elizabeth said softly. “But you are not the first. Cameron thought he could help me. After Alexander and Peter died, he offered for me. He thought if I were married, Ric would lose interest, and I—” She looked away. “I wasn’t ready to leave yet. My grandparents loved this ranch. I wanted to save it, their dream, for myself—for my children.”

She stepped past him to look over the land. “But I couldn’t. And it’s time to stop pretending that anyone can stop Ric.”

“I can—”

Elizabeth turned back to him. “I’ve never asked you about your wife,” she realized. “She didn’t come with you,” she continued as Jason frowned. “And I just—I suppose I didn’t allow myself to think of it—” She’d put away that terrible conversation with Lila and dragged it out now only to remind herself that Jason’s concern was platonic.

That he wanted to rescue her because of his hatred of Ric Lansing.

“I’m not—I never—my grandmother lied to you,” Jason said shortly. Elizabeth’s mouth dropped slightly as he continued. “He forged her mortgage papers, too. Elizabeth—she lied to you because Ric blackmailed her. And I can stop him.”

“No one can.” Elizabeth’s hands trembled as she turned away from, starting towards the door.

“I know you don’t have a reason to trust me, but I’ll stop him—”

She turned back to him. “No! You can’t—” Elizabeth shook her head, panicked now. “No! Just—just let it go, Jason. He’s already tried to hurt you through your family—he’ll take away everything you ever loved if you don’t stop—”

“He already did.”

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Written in 20 minutes. No time for typos.

If Jason hadn’t been a man of the law, the conversations with Elizabeth and his grandmother might have been enough to convince him to walk over to Ric Lansing’s fancy home a few streets from his grandmother and shoot him dead over his supper.

As it was, even with the badge pinned to his shirt, Jason wasn’t finding a lot to talk him out of it. Worried, however, about the paperwork Elizabeth said existed about a mortage on her ranch, Jason didn’t want to do anything that might put her out of a home.

First, he needed to prove Ric Lansing was a thieving monster so that Elizabeth and his grandmother would be safe—so that Cameron Lewis and his sons would have a measure of justice—

Then he’d kill him.

He slept on the problem that night, turning over the problem in his head as he slept restlessly in his rented rooms at the boarding house. The next morning, he decided to start with the man himself and see how Ric Lansing would account for his grandmother’s story about a mortage on her property.

He walked over to the bank before it opened — wanting to catch Lansing unawares. He sat on a wooden bench outside the brick entrance, stretched out his legs and waited.

Just before nine, Lansing sauntered across the street from the livery where he’d stabled his horse—stopping short as he recognized Jason. If Jason hadn’t been looking he might have missed the flicker of uncertainty in Ric’s expression.

Then it smoothed out and Ric adopted that smug smile Jason had always hated. “Sheriff. What can I do for you?”

“I had a question about my grandfather’s will,” Jason said, shortly. He got to his feet. “My grandmother said that you had a copy here at the bank.”

“Question?” Ric echoed. He unlocked the entrance, then indicated for Jason to follow him inside. “It was relatively straightforward. Of course, you could have come back for the reading.” He turned at the doorway to his own office, lifting a brow. “I believe you said you couldn’t be spared.”

“I was too far away,” Jason said flatly. “On an assignment in Texas. One of my grandfather’s cousins back East is disputing the estate. Claiming that Grandfather promised him a bequest.”

“Oh.” Ric’s brow smoothed out and he walked over to a set of cabinets. “That’s simple enough. The estate was left your grandmother in whole, with specific bequests for you and for your cousin, Dillon.” He flipped through the portfolio. “Yes. No mention of family back East. I was under the impression everyone who mattered had come with Edward when he moved out here.”

“He had a brother he didn’t speak to,” Jason said. He held out his hand for the portfiolio but Ric didn’t didn’t budge. “Is there a problem with letting me look at the estate documents? It should have all of that in writing—” He paused. “Including any demands on the estate or the house.”

“The house.” Ric set the portfolio down, then smiled at him. “I thought Bethie might have wandered over to you. I thought you’d come to see me about her problem.”

“Her problem turns out to be a common one in Diamond Springs,” Jason said dryly. “A lot of people who don’t need to mortgage their properties finding out they had. Steve Hardy, Edward Quartermaine, and Cameron Lewis founded this town. They owned a lot of it for a long time. I find it hard to believe all three of them mortgaged their properties to you.”

“And yet…” Ric slid out papers with another one of those smiles. “They did. Cameron’s debts were paid off with the sale of his house—”

“Debts to the bank,” Jason said. “In other words—you have the money his sons would have inherited—”

“What money?” Ric shrugged. “Your grandmother paid off her mortgage—”

“With a letter to Elizabeth lying about my marriage?” Jason cut in. “Strange way to absolve a debt—”

“It’s within my rights to assign value to the payments I received.” Ric looked at Jason. “You might have that tin star on your shirt, Sheriff, but we both know there’s nothing you can do. Not without breaking that oath you just swore to uphold.”

“It doesn’t bother you that Elizabeth doesn’t want you? That she never wanted you?”

Ric smirked, then folded up the papers and slid them back into the leather portfolio. He returned it to the cabinet, locked it. He turned back to Jason.

“I see you’ve been swallowing that radical nonsense, too. Next, you’ll be thinking women should have the right to vote.” He folded his arms. “No, it doesn’t bother me. I take what I want. And right now, she’s what I want.”

Ric lifted his chin. “And if you think that reaching for that gun in your holster worries me, I should tell you that all copies of the mortgages have been filed with the county assessment office. My estate will call in all debts. You might kill me, but Elizabeth will lose everything anyway.”

Jason stared at him for a long moment, then nodded. “All right. I only came here to see if you’d be dumb enough to admit it. Have a good day, Lansing.”

—

Elizabeth smiled wanly at the telegram Mrs. Baldwin had brought her back from the telegraph office that morning when she’d arrived for her work. “Well, that’s it, I suppose.”

“Dear?” Gail asked with a smile. She set a plate of hotcakes and sausage in front of Cameron. “Are you sure you won’t eat? Was the telegraph bad news?”

“No. No. It’s—I wasn’t expecting a reply so quickly.” After leaving the jail the day before, she’d gone to the Western Union and sent an express to an old friend.

And Patrick Drake had replied to day, agreeing to the purchase. She looked at Cameron. “Darling, how would you like to live in San Francisco?”

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