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?”

+2