Jason and Joshua, both bone-tired and hungry, stabled their horses and walked over to Lottie's for breakfast. She took one look at their unshaven, dispirited faces and promptly placed two mugs of strong coffee on the table.

"Breakfast, Lottie," Josh said. "The works."

She nodded wordlessly and went off to place the order in the kitchen. When she returned, both coffee mugs were empty and she promptly refilled them, leaving the pot on the table. "I'll brew another," she said. "You both look as if you really need it."

"Thanks, Lottie," Jason said, and stared down at the black steaming liquid. "She's gone, you know. We tried our best to find her."

"I know. Candy told me," she said sympathetically.

"No, 'I told you so,' or 'You got what you deserved'?" he retorted.

"Nope. You're doing a good enough job beating yourself up. You don't need my help," she sniffed, and went off to the kitchen, returning with two plates filled with eggs, sausages and bacon.

"Sure and that's the food of the gods I'm smellin'!" said Clancey as he pulled himself up from behind the bar.

Lottie put her hands on her hips and gave him a dagger-look. "I'm charging you for a night's stay!"

"As you wish, darlin'," he said agreeably. "Doesn't that include a full breakfast?"

Muttering an oath under her breath, she flounced off, leaving Jason and Joshua laughing. Jason motioned to a chair. "Won't you join us, Clancey?"

"I just might at that," he said. "After all, they say misery loves company, don't they?" He settled himself carefully into the chair Jason pulled out for him and gave him a bleary-eyed look. "The two of ye look like my crew after shore leave. Up all night, were ye?"

"Searching for Jonah," Joshua said. "She gave us the slip."

"She's a sharp one, that girl is," Clancey said admiringly.

"Too sharp for her own good," Jason grumbled as he speared a piece of sausage with his fork.

"But then, I imagine she had a damn fine teacher," he said, turning away as Jason gave him a dirty look. "Ah, Lottie, bless ye! And might I be havin' a beer with that?"

"You might not!" she said, throwing the plate in front of him. "Black coffee only.

"Just one glass," he wheedled.

"Would you rather eat your breakfast or wear it?" she countered.

"Coffee'll suit me just fine, thank ye," he said sheepishly.

They were about done with their breakfast when Christopher Pruitt came charging into the saloon, his round little face red with excitement. "A ship, pulling into the harbor! I've never seen such a beautiful ship! Come look!" Then, mindful of his desire to one day go to sea as Clancey's cabin boy, he amended, "Almost as beautiful as the Shamus O'Flynn!" before running off.

Clancey frowned as he drained his coffee mug. Competition was one thing he didn't need. "Let's go see the old scow," he said to the Bolts, who grinned at each other as they got up and followed him outside.

A good number of the townspeople were heading toward the dock as well, exclaiming over the beauty of the approaching ship. "Isn't it the most beautiful—uh, the second most beautiful ship you've ever seen?" Biddie gushed as she rushed past them.

Pity for his poor, old, faithful ship surged through Clancey as he caught sight of the rival sailing toward them. A clipper ship, sleek and beautiful, its voluminous sails unfurled, standing out against the blue sky like angels' wings against the heavens. As he admired her fine lines and speed, he felt like an unfaithful lover. Candy fell in alongside of him and upon glancing at his woebegone face, reached over and squeezed his hand.

"Don't worry, Captain Clancey. No ship could ever replace the Shamus O'Flynn in the hearts of the brides."

"Yer a darlin' lass to say so," he said, managing the ghost of a smile for her benefit.

Jason and Joshua hung back as the ship drew closer and they could read its name with the naked eye. "The Midas Touch," Jason said tightly, spitting out each syllable as if it were a curse.

"The flagship of Grandmother's fleet," Joshua recalled. "Well what do you suppose she wants, Jason?"

"Besides our very souls? I couldn't tell you." They looked on as the sailors threw lines down to the people on the docks, who promptly helped them secure the ship. Then the anchor was weighed and the gangplank extended.

"Come on, Josh," Jason said. "Let's go back to Lottie's. I'll be damned if she thinks I'm going to wait here and greet her with open arms."

"What's all the commotion?" Lottie asked them as they entered.

"Clipper ship just docked," Joshua said tersely.

Jason leaned against the bar and ordered two whiskeys, causing Lottie to raise her eyebrows. "It's a bit early in the day for that, Jason."

"The ship that just pulled in is the Midas Touch," he said, and her eyes widened.

"In that case, I'll have one, too."

Abigail took Josiah's arm as she made her way carefully down the gangplank, mindful of the gaping stares of the townspeople. She was dressed tastefully yet opulently, leaving no doubt in anyone's mind that she was a Very Important Person. Jewels hung like icicles from her ears, and glittered around her neck and on her fingers in the bright sunlight.

"Oh my! Who do you suppose she is?" Biddie whispered loudly to Candy.

"The devil," said Jeremy from behind them. "The devil in a dress." When the two women looked at him questioningly, he clarified, "My grandmother, Abigail Spencer."

"Oh-h-h!" Biddie said slowly.

"Thank goodness Jonah left last night," Candy said as she slipped her hand into Jeremy's. It was cold, and trembling slightly. From anger, she guessed. He looked as grim as she had ever seen him.

Jeremy looked around for Jason and Joshua, who were nowhere to be seen. One of the loggers had told him that they had gone out to look for Jonah the previous evening, but had been unsuccessful and had returned to town early that morning. He had looked for them at the cabin and upon finding it empty, had been on the way to Lottie's when he had spotted the ship gliding into the harbor like a swan.

"I'll be in Lottie's," he said abruptly. "If my grandmother wants to talk to any of us, tell her to come there."

Candy was about to follow when Biddie tugged at her sleeve. An extremely handsome man was coming toward them, sweeping off his bowler hat to reveal a healthy head of blond hair that seemed to shine almost as brightly as the sun itself. "Good day to you, fair ladies!" he greeted them, flashing a dazzling white smile.

"Why hello there!" Biddie said just as enthusiastically, while Candy, sensing trouble, just acknowledged him with a brief nod.

"Tell me, is it true? Are there really nearly hundred New England beauties housed in that rude little shack over there?" he inquired.

Candy's mouth tightened. "That 'rude little shack,' sir, happens to be our home, and we're quite fond of it."

"Forgive me for wounding your tender feelings," he apologized. "It's just that I believe that beauty deserves an appropriate showcase, such as a splendid museum for priceless works of art."

"That is so gallant!" Biddie said, and giggled, nudging the unimpressed Candy. "Isn't it?"

"I suppose," she said shortly.

"Perhaps one of you lovelies might give me a tour?"

"Why, I would—" Biddie started, but Candy kicked her in the shin. "Ow!"

"You're taking a lot of liberties, sir. We haven't even been properly introduced."

"Again, forgive me. My name is Thaddeus Montgomery, president of the Miners Bank in San Francisco. Mrs. Spencer, the owner of the bank, is visiting family here in your quaint little town, and asked me to accompany her."

Candy's temper flared, and she ached to wipe the smile off his smug face by telling him that his "fiancé" was long gone. But it would be better to let him think she'd never been here at all. So she played along. "And what family might that be?"

"The Bolt brothers."

"Oh, the Bolts. I'll think you find them in Lottie's."

He tipped his hat. "Thank you for your kindness, Miss—?"

"Pruitt, Candy Pruitt. And this is my friend, Miss Biddie Cloom."

"Late of New Bedford," she added helpfully.

"Charmed," he said, and Biddie blushed furiously as his lips skimmed lightly over the top of her hand. "Would you show me your home, my dear Miss Cloom?"

"Yes, Biddie, why don't you?" Candy said, and pulling her to one side, whispered, "Not one word about Jonah or Gertie or Joanne or anything at all about a recent visitor. Understood?"

"Well of course I understand!" she huffed, and turned her attention back to the waiting Thaddeus. "Come along, Mr. Montgomery."

"Call me Thad, please," he said as he tucked his arm in hers.

"Only if you'll call me Biddie," she replied, and batted her eyelashes.

Candy waited until they were out of sight and hurried off to Lottie's. The air was thick with tension as she entered to discover the formidable old woman facing Jason, Joshua and Jeremy, who didn't even bother to get up from the table.

"About what I'd expect from a trio of backwood louts!" Abigail said disdainfully. "You have no idea how to treat a proper lady."

"Why of course we do," Jason returned smoothly. "But, Grandmother dear, you're not a lady. You're a snake."

Red-faced, she thumped her cane onto the floor, the sawdust muffling the sound only slightly. "Josiah, get me a chair. And you, woman," she said to Lottie, "brew me a cup of tea. Earl Grey."

"Brew it yourself," Lottie said with mock sweetness. "I don't serve your kind."

"How dare you, you miserable sl—"

She didn't finish the insult, because out of the corner of her eye she saw Jason Bolt tense, and though she was loathe to admit it, she was as intimidated by his quiet strength as she had been by his father's.

"Simpson! Go back to the kitchen and fetch Mrs. Spencer some tea," Josiah ordered.

After the beverage was quickly produced, Abigail sipped it, making a face as she did. "Predictably hideous," she proclaimed, and placed it on the table.

"Well, Grandmother Spencer, now that tea-time is over, suppose you tell us the reason for your visit," Jason suggested, and made a pretense of looking around the room. "Did Jonah come with you by any chance?"

"You know very well Joan isn't with me," she snapped, "because she's here in this wretched place."

"Her name is Jonah," Jason countered evenly, "and she's not in Seattle."

Abigail gave a short, bitter laugh. "You're as smooth a liar as your father."

Inwardly Jason bristled but held his temper in check. "You never really knew my father, did you, Grandmother? If you had, you'd never have made such a ridiculous statement."

"You're wrong. I knew your father only too well. A smooth-talking, fortune-hunting rogue!"

Jeremy jumped up from the chair. "You t-t-take that b-b-back!"

Abigail impaled her youngest grandson with a look of malicious pity. "Poor boy. Still struggling with your affliction, I see. I thought you'd have grown out of it by now."

Now it was Joshua's turn. "You nasty old—"

Candy was about to make her presence known as well when Jason boomed, "That's enough, both of you!" and they both reluctantly sat back down.

A shaft of daylight pierced the room like a welcome beacon as the door opened and Thaddeus strolled in. Pulling off his gloves, he slapped them down on the table. "She's not in the dormitory, Mrs. Spencer."

The old woman smiled thinly. "Thaddeus Montgomery, I'd like to introduce you to your future brothers-in-law, Jason, Joshua and Jeremiah Bolt."

Thaddeus bowed elaborately. "Pleased to meet you, gentleman. Don't get up on my account."

"We wouldn't think of it," Jason said, the mere thought of this slickly handsome, debauched, corrupt scoundrel claiming his sister as his own infuriating him beyond measure.

"Your sister is a very charming young woman, but so headstrong! I gather it's a family trait." He smiled as he took a cheroot out of a gold case and lit it. "But once we're married I'll keep her in line."

"You so much as touch her," Jason said in a deadly quiet tone, "and I'll kill you."

A shaken Thaddeus looked to Abigail for support, but none was forthcoming. Perversely, she had always thought him a little cocky and thought it might do him a world of good to be put in his place. Not for the first time did she compare Thaddeus to her eldest grandchild and find him wanting. As much as she hated to admit it, Jason Bolt would have made the perfect heir for her empire—were he not nearly the image of his father, whom she would always hate for stealing away her daughter and bringing her here to die in this godforsaken wilderness.

"What are you going to do?" he sneered at Jason. "Challenge me to a duel?"

"No, just kill you with my bare hands."

Deciding Thaddeus had suffered enough, Abigail finally intervened. "Enough small talk. Tell me where my granddaughter is, Jason."

"I don't know. When exactly did you misplace her?"

"She left San Francisco a little over a week ago."

"Left? Or ran away?"

"Left. Like she left Seattle four years ago, and never looked back."

Jason ignored the well-aimed barb. "Then why would she come here?"

"Just to make life difficult for me. She knows how much I loathe the sight of this mudhole—and all of Jonathan Bolt's sons." Except for Joshua, she amended. Of them all, only he had inherited the slender, blond looks of his mother. The other three were Bolts through and through. "Just hand her over, and we'll be on our way with no trouble."

Before Jason could ask what she meant by trouble, Clancey and his swearing, complaining crew was herded through the door by several man bearing shotguns. They were soon followed by a frightened group of brides. Next to come was Aaron Stempel and his millworkers. Jason and his brothers leapt to their feet, only to be held in check by Josiah Clark, who pointed a six-shooter at them. "No further, gentlemen."

An unkempt, bearded man spat on the floor and grinned. "We rounded 'em all up, Mr. Clark. Easy as shootin' fish in a barrel. All the buildings are empty, just like you wanted."

"What the hell is going on here?" Aaron demanded. "These ruffians just marched in and took over the entire town!"

"You remember my grandmother, don't you Aaron?" Jason asked dryly. "She's conducting a search of Seattle for something she lost."

"Couldn't she have just asked politely?" Aaron demanded.

"I did, sir, but unfortunately have been met with nothing but rudeness. But I'll try one more time before I'm forced to do something I really rather wouldn't do. Have any of you seen my granddaughter?" She held up the daguerreotype. "I'm offering a five hundred dollar reward for information leading to her return."

Stubborn silence reigned in the saloon, and Jason smiled. "Satisfied, Grandmother? No one knows. Now why don't you and your gang of thugs go home, and we'll forget this unpleasant incident ever happened."

"I'm not leaving without my granddaughter!" she said through gritted teeth. "She belongs to me!"

Jason rounded furiously on her, heedless of Clark's six-shooter pointed at his head. "She belongs to no one! She makes her own decisions, not the least of which is whom she'll marry!"

"Now you know how it feels! How I felt when your father came strutting into San Francisco and seduced my daughter, an innocent, impressionable girl, with honeyed words and promises of the wonderful life they would carve out of the wilderness together! She defied her own parents to go off with him, to a life of mindless drudgery. Death was probably a blessed release for her!"

"You're wrong," Joshua spoke up. "She told us how Father saved her from the empty life you had planned for her. You stifled her, deciding what she should wear, what friends she should have, even whom she would marry. But she had too much spirit, too much of a sense of adventure to just sit back and let her entire existence be stolen away. The day she met my father was the day life really began for her, and she never regretted her decision to leave."

"Liar!" Abigail hissed. "You're all liars, the lot of you. The whole town is conspiring in this farce, and because of that, the entire town will suffer. Taggert, is everything in place?"

A short, stocky balding man stepped forward and held out two detonators. "The first two, ma'am. I've got my men working on the others. They should be done shortly."

"Give them to Mr. Clark, please."

Jason's heart pounded furiously as he realized what she meant to do. "My God, you can't!"

"Oh, but I can. And I will. If you don't tell me where my granddaughter is, I'll blow up the entire town."

Assorted gasps of horror and outraged cries greeted her cold-blooded pronouncement, and she laughed.

"Even you c-c-couldn't be that evil!" Jeremy said.

"No? Then how about a demonstration? Mr. Taggert was an explosives expert for the railroad; he's the best there is at his particular craft. Sir, which detonator controls our demonstration?"

"The red one, ma'am."

She nodded regally. "Mr. Clark, hit the red detonator, if you please."