Chapter One

It was two in the morning before Heath rode into Modesto and headed for the boarding house. Normally, he would have just camped for the night only, time and time again, he'd gotten the strongest impression to keep riding. He had wondered why. It wasn't like his business in the town was urgent or like he was carrying a large amount of cash on him. Still, as strong as the impressions had been, he'd kept riding. Soon he was standing inside Modesto's livery stable and handing the reins to the owner of the place, a graying haired gentleman by the name of William Styles.

"I'm surprised to see you up." Heath admitted as his friend took Charger's reins. "Though, I am glad to find you are. Wasn't sure how you'd feel when you came in the morning and saw Charger here without knowing beforehand I was coming,"

William sighed as he rubbed the reins in his hands. "Truth be told, with the horse auction starting tomorrow, I couldn't sleep." He looked at Heath as if to ask 'do I need to tell you why'?

Heath nodded slightly and turned towards the door; he didn't have to ask why the horse auction would affect the livery stable owner's sleep. He'd had the same problem the night before. "See you later," Heath exited the stable and headed for the boarding house. Walking down the boardwalk that ran through Modesto's main road, he passed one business after another. When he came to the saloon, he paused for a split second-even if there wasn't anything standing out to catch his attention.

"Better watch the cards, boy," Nick laughed as Heath lost five dollars in the poker game the two were playing with William Styles and his son.

Heath, who had caught sight of Maggie-one of the saloon girls, growled silently. He seldom did that—eyed a waitress more than he did the cards. He didn't like getting caught doing such a thing-especially by Nick.

Heath shook his head as he continued walking; he needed to get to the boarding house. He just hoped they hadn't rented out all their rooms. Just before reaching the boarding house, he kicked a small grey pebble and sent it flying across the street. He then opened the white gate that stood in front of the two story building and walked through. When he stepped on the first board, he heard a creak. By the time he opened the front door, Heath had made a note to tell Andrew Jones his steps needed work.

"HEATH!" The very man Heath had just thought about opened a door that stood at the top of a flight of stairs that led up to the top floor. "It's good to see you! Though, what are you doing arriving in town this time of night…or morning, depending on how you want to look at it."

"It's what happens when a man doesn't make camp." Heath gave Andrew a crooked smile and then asked about the steps outside. "If you need someone to help you fix them, I'll be happy to help."

Andrew glanced down at the floor and then back up at Heath; his face turning slightly pink. "Do me a favor and don't tell my Mrs. She'll have my hide. She's been at me for the past couple of days to do just that, but we've been busy…" the man shrugged his shoulders. "I just haven't gotten around to it. I'll take you up on the offer only," he fidgeted slightly, "won't that interfere with the auction you need to go to? I mean, that is why you're in town, isn't it?"

Heath nodded. "Yes, but if I can get a bed for a few hours, I can fix a few steps before going to look at the horses."

"You're in luck. I have one room left, wasn't supposed to but the gentleman that was using it checked out early." A puzzled look appeared on Andrew's face as he said, "Though, I don't know why. All he did was go get a room over at the hotel." He then assured Heath that, as far as he knew, there was nothing wrong with the room.

"I believe you." Heath smiled as Andrew, who had walked over to a desk that sat off to the right of the stairs, took a key off the wall behind the desk, handed it to the blond haired cowboy and told him that he'd have room four. "See you in the morning." Heath started up the stairs. Once he stepped onto the second floor, Heath turned to his right and walked past room two before making a left turn; one that led into a small hallway that held three other rooms. Soon he was opening the door to the room Andrew had given him.

The moment he stepped in the room, Heath stiffened and put his hand on his gun. While he could see nothing-and with the moon's and stars' light shining directly through the window he could see clearly, he still got the funniest feeling he wasn't the only one in the room. Setting his belongs down on the floor, next to a chair that set against the west wall of the room, Heath made his way to the closet; its door was slightly open. He pulled his gun out of its holster and swung the door wide open-nothing. He then got down on his knees and cautiously looked under the bed…again nothing. Shaking his head he stood up. "You're more tired than you want to admit; you're feelings things." Heath said only to himself as he slid his gun back into his holster and moved his belongings into the closet. He then sat down on the bed, which sat almost against the east wall. After taking his boots off and setting his hat, along with his gun belt, on the small brown night stand that sat next to the bed, Heath lay down. For, while he told himself he was simply tired, could be wrong. If he was, he wasn't going to be without his firearm.