There was nothing needing his immediate attention; apart from the untouched bottle of Moonshine that he'd hidden neatly in his nightstand, and the unresolved mystery of the two cattle rustlers.

Most red-blooded males would have chosen alone time with the girl over a bottle of strong spirits. But most women were a little more welcoming than Nova Radcliffe. It hadn't bypassed his attention that she wasn't overly distressed about his well being. No. She'd been far more interested in her visitor.

Had he not arrived back in one piece, Jese had a strong feeling that Nova would have deemed the man to be a fine replacement. There had been no obvious flirting between the two - that he'd borne witness to - but Jese would have to have possessed the intuition of a stable door not to have noticed the tension.

Had his fiancee peeked at him with half the curiosity that she bestowed upon Brandon, then their marriage would have been a fruitful one. He'd expected to feel unfazed by it all... but instead Jese had felt a strange emotion building in his gut. A feeling so unpleasant that he'd needed to evacuate her presence as quickly as possible incase he said something he would regret.

Jese neared his Hotel, which rested on the outskirts of Little River. Directing his horse around the steam powered carts, he approached the groom. Handing over his reins Jese watched the lad leading the horse to the waiting oats and water. Jese's brows puckered together in thought.

There was something he was missing. From what he'd seen of Miss Radcliffe's stock, they didn't seem to be worthy of slaughtering for meat, and nor were they worthy of a jealous rival.

Turning on his heel, Jese strode to the Hotel Foyer. The Grand Hotel boasted a brand new exterior and luxurious trimmings, but his mind too busy to notice his charming surroundings.

He was sure that he'd give the two a fairly good shake up... chasing them until they'd disappeared from sight, and then tracking their horse prints until they'd taken a strange turn into a large river and hadn't seemingly re-emerged.

But that wasn't enough. A small shake up would soon be forgotten when the adrenaline died down. No. He needed to place cold hard fear in their hearts.

Jese Calhoun was a determined man. When he put his mind to something then, come hell or high water, he wouldn't back down. And he'd set his mind to a new life, free of the corruption that he'd been faced with in North Carolina. There was no way he would allow that kind of thing to flourish here as well. This was a clean slate. He could make Little River whatever he wanted it to be.

Upon swinging open the solid pine door into his humble accommodation, Jese tore his shirt off. Hearing a murmured giggle from the hall he glanced out, as his foot kicked the door closed behind him, and found himself the object of two red faced girls amusement. Their hands pressed to their mouths, shoulders shaking.

He was confused, momentarily, as the door slammed shut. Glancing down he saw the bare chest he'd uncovered. Most of the time his inner torment was of such magnitude that he forgot what he looked like. The body he'd spent his early twenties admiring and working on no longer held any kind of fascination to him; it was merely a tool for working the land.

Just as Jese's heart was simply an organ which helped to send his blood through his veins. It had been a long time since it had been used for anything else. Aching feelings, caused by love, no longer tormented him. Sometimes he was so concerned that there was nothing there that he'd placed a hand to his chest just to check there was still a beat.

With a glass of moonshine in one hand and a warm flannel in the other he deftly towelled himself of the day's dirt and grime. Nova could cause him discomfort and strange emotions in his gut, but she would never find her way into his heart.