Written in 20 minutes. No time for rereading.

Elizabeth stared at Jason for a long moment, then slowly shook her head. “No. You don’t get to—” She fisted her hand and raised it slightly, trying to gather herself. “No. Ric is guilty of many things, but what happened with you—with me—you don’t get to lay that at his feet.”

Jason scowled, took a step towards her. “He kept you from getting my letters—he made sure I never got yours. He blackmailed my grandmother into lying to you—”

“And none of that explains why you never came back.”

Her flat statement, devoid of any emotion—her empty, betrayed eyes—had Jason swallowing hard. He looked away.

“I should have.”

“But you didn’t. I wrote you for two years before I gave you. You—you wrote for one. You never came home, Jason. You gave up on me first,” she reminded him. “You feel guilty, I understand that. And maybe—”

Elizabeth closed her eyes, took a deep breath. “We were young. And I can understand you giving up. You were out there in the world, and maybe it just—it was easier. I don’t know, but I can forgive it, Jason. And I do. Jason, look at me—”

She waited until his eyes focused on hers. “I forgive you for not coming back, for letting me go. I had to let you go, too. And maybe if it was just as simple as my father keeping our letters from each other—if that were the only thing standing between us, we could see if there was a future for us.”

Her lips twisted. “You want to rescue me from Ric, but I don’t need you to do it. I haven’t wasting away here, you know, married to a man twice my age and unhappy. It might be hard for you to understand this—but I let you go. I may not have loved Cameron the way I loved you, but I cared for him. He loved me, and he loved our son.”

“I’m glad—” Jason took a deep breath, looked at the ground for a moment, then raised his eyes to look at her. “I’m glad. And you’re right. It’s easy to blame Ric for everything. He was part of it—but I should have come back. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

He waited a long moment. “But you’re wrong that I just want to rescue you. I do—if you want to leave Diamond Springs, that’s okay. I can understand that. But—” He shook his head. “You are’t the only person who deseves justice. Your grandparents, my grandmother—Ric used them. And if you’re right about the Lewis family, he’s responisble for what happened to Alexander and Peter.”

“If you know what Ric is capable of and you still want to go after him, I can’t stop you. I just don’t want you to risk yourself on my account.” Elizabeth folded her arms tightly at her waist. “I’ve loved this ranch my whole life, but it’s not all there is. And I think I’ll enjoy living in San Francisco. The sale of my horses, the money I’ve put away from the ranch—I’ll be okay.”

“Can you wait a few days?” Jason asked. He took a step towards her, his voice softening. “I’ve got a plan—and you should be here to see it—”

“I need to make sure my son is safe. Ric can take the ranch, but he couldn’t take my horses. They’re owned by me free and clear. So I’m leaving tomorrow morning.”

“All right.” Jason nodded. He reached out, tucked a curl that had come loose from her top knot behind her ear. “I’ll let you know what happens.”

“I’m glad you came home,” Elizabeth told him. She leaned up to kiss his cheek. She lingered near him, her cheek brushing his, remembering the sweetness of their childhood, the bright future they’d planned. “I’m glad to know the truth.”

“I am, too.” His voice was low, husky. He brushed his fingers down her cheek. “And when Ric isn’t a threat anymore—maybe we can—”

“Don’t make promises,” she murmured. Elizabeth clasped her hand over his, held it to her cheek for another moment, then slowly drew it away.

“I won’t,” Jason told her. He kissed her forehead. “I need to get back to town. I have a lot to do, and I don’t have a lot of time.”

“Okay.”

He walked away from her, their hands clasped until the last moment as he walked backwards towards her steps. Elizabeth watched as he mounted his horse and rode towards the entrance to her ranch.

Then went back inside.

—

Jason had planned to take action the next day, but he couldn’t risk Ric learning of Elizabeth’s flight to San Francisco and going after her or causing her any more pain.

He returned to the jail and found his cousin reading another one of his Twain novels. “Dillon, let’s go. We’ve got an arrest to make.”

Dillon straightened in his chair, dropped the book to the desk and furrowed his brow. “Oh, yeah? Who?”

“You’ll see. I might need help bringing him in.” Not that Dillon would be much help, but there were some strength in numbers.

Dillon shrugged, and followed Jason out of the jail. They walked across the street, then Dillon gulped as they reached the bank. “Uh, Jase—”

“I know what I’m doing,” Jason muttered. “Stop looking like you’re about to faint. You’re a deputy, damn it.”

“Right. Right. Man of law. Man of action. Deputy.” Dillon squared his shoulders, then attempted to adopt a tough expression. Jason fought the urge to roll his eyes — it was better than he’d looked before.

He stalked into the bank and ignored the tellers working who tried to stop him as he went to Ric’s office.

“Sheriff.” Ric got to his feet, arched his brow. “I didn’t think we had any business—”

“You were wrong. I’m arresting you for forgery, exhortion, and theft.” Jason rounded the desk, put a hand on the gun holstered at his side. “Do me a favor, Lansing. Try to run.”

Ric searched Jason’s eyes for a moment, and Jason was gratified to see the flicker of fear in them before it smoothed out. “William,” he called out. “Please cable Holt in Sacremento. He’s a state legislator,” he informed Jason coolly. “He’ll have your badge.”

“Really? Is that James Holt? I grew up calling him Jimmy Lee.” Ric’s eyes narrowed, and Jason sneered, grabbing Ric’s arm and shoved him to the exit. “He’s a Quartermaine cousin, or didn’t you know that?”

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