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returned. Where could
the child be?
    Marietta went to Amy’s room and asked her to
watch the last pan of rolls baking in the oven while she went to
find Zack. Once Amy agreed, she put on her coat and hat and went
out to search the compound. She began to panic when she couldn’t
find her little boy. She located Col. Harrison and asked for the
assistance of some of his men.
    Three hours later, Zack was still missing.
The boy had simply disappeared.

Chapter Six

    Jase hadn’t had a visit from a stranger for
quite some time, let alone a stranger on a buckboard. He finished
brushing down his horse while the buckboard covered the last mile
to his ranch. One thing good about the Nebraska territory landscape
was that a man could see for miles and miles. By the time the
stranger had reached his house, Jase was inside washing up. Mrs.
Whipple greeted the caller and asked him to wait on the porch while
she went to get Jase.
    “He says he has business with you,” Mrs.
Whipple said in her warm, grandmotherly voice. “His name is James
Richards, and he has news from the Red Rock Junction meeting.”
    Jase could have picked up the white-haired,
sixty-something-year-old woman and spun her around the room in a
Virginia Reel.
    “Invite him in, Mabel! Seat him in the
library and give him coffee or pie or whatever he wants. I’ll be
with him shortly.”
    Her silver eyes twinkled. “It’s good to see
some life in your smile again, Jase. Things have been too sad
around here since Zack left.”
    He couldn’t argue with that. While this good
news couldn’t relieve him of his heartache over losing Zack,
starting a new project that would consume time otherwise spent
grieving would help his healing. He’d already spent too much time
hurting over the loss of Kathy, Clint, and Zack. Having feelings
for Marietta without being able to do anything about them hurt as
much as losing his best friends. He needed diversion.
    “Things have been sad here for a long time,”
he said, drying his hands.
    “Indeed they have,” Mabel said, unable to
keep a disheartened tone out of her voice. “I’ll make Mr. Richards
comfortable at once.”
    Jase went to his bedroom and put on a clean
shirt and fresh trousers. He found Mr. Richards sitting in a
high-backed red chair when he entered the library. The tall, lean
man dressed in dark clothes stood as Jase stepped next to him.
    “Mr. Kent?”
    “Yes, I’m Jason Kent, Mr. Richards. It’s a
pleasure to know you.”
    “Likewise.” Richards looked around the
library. “Impressive room, Mr. Kent. You have quite a collection of
books within its modest size.”
    “I like to have as much knowledge as possible
at hand.”
    “A rancher and businessman needs all sorts of
informative tomes, but you seem to enjoy fiction, plays, and
poetry--Shakespeare, Hawthorne, Dickens, Greek classics and myths,
even the bewitching Washington Irving and James Fennimore
Cooper.”
    “You’re familiar with American authors, Mr.
Richards?”
    “I prefer English writers, but then, there
are far more of them. We’re too young a country to have spawned
many great writers.”
    “A man could disagree with that,” Jase said,
“but you aren’t here to discuss literature.”
    “No, indeed. We have something great of our
own to talk about, an opportunity to be a part of the expansion of
this growing country, to make our own place in history.”
    “What news do you have from Red Rock
Junction?”
    The gangly man returned to his seat in the
high-backed chair as Jase sat in the matching chair next to him in
front of the fireplace.
    “You’re still interested in being a part of
our consortium, Mr. Kent?”
    “Absolutely.”
    “Good. Then you and I shall be partners.”
Richards leaned back in his chair and sipped his coffee.
    “Partners? Just the two of us? Aren’t there
any other investors interested?”
    Richards waved a hand. “Of course, of course,
Mr. Kent. Ten of us all together. We’re breaking into groups of
two.