Chapter 17 - The Name on the Wanted Poster
Spring reached Black Pine Ridge slowly.
First came dripping snow.
Then mud.
Then green pushing through ground that had seemed dead for months.
Alandre returned to the cabin with Jed in April.
For several minutes, she simply stood outside.
The place looked smaller than she remembered.
The porch still leaned.
One shutter hung crooked.
A bullet mark remained near the window.
Jed carried her trunk inside.
“You can still change your mind.”
“About what?”
“Staying.”
Alandre looked at him.
“I crossed half of Montana to get here the first time.”
“Accidentally.”
“Details.”
She walked inside.
The cabin smelled cold and dusty.
Alandre opened the shutters.
Sunlight spilled across the floor.
Her eyes went automatically toward the loose board beneath Jed’s bed.
He noticed.
“I can nail it down.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because hiding things under it worked terribly.”
“Fair.”
They spent the first week repairing damage.
Jed fixed the chimney.
Alandre scrubbed soot.
Together they rebuilt the porch.
He started framing the new room.
She refused to tell him whether it would be storage.
Jed pretended not to care.
Meanwhile letters arrived.
One from Amos Hale.
Another from Marshal Mercer.
Then one from Helena.
Restitution officials had traced enough money to compensate seven families immediately.
The remaining gold Jed recovered would be distributed among workers and claimants.
Alandre read the letter aloud.
Jed sat at the table.
When she finished, he stared at his hands.
“You all right?”
“Yes.”
“Liar.”
He smiled faintly.
“I spent years thinking returning money would fix things.”
“It helps.”
“Doesn’t undo them.”
“No.”
Alandre sat across from him.
“Thomas wrote something about that.”
She opened his journal.
She had carried it home.
She read:
Making amends is not traveling backward. It is choosing where you go next.
Jed looked at her.
“He wrote that?”
“Yes.”
“Annoying man.”
“You would’ve been friends.”
“We were getting there.”
Alandre smiled sadly.
“I wish I had known.”
“So do I.”
They sat quietly.
Thomas no longer felt like a wall between them.
More like a road that had brought them somewhere neither expected.
That evening Jed removed the old wanted poster from a drawer.
He started toward the stove.
Alandre stopped him.
“What are you doing?”
“Burning it.”
“No.”
He frowned.
“You want it?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She took it.
“Because this version of you existed.”
He looked away.
“And?”
“And the man standing here exists too.”
She folded the poster and placed it inside Thomas’s journal.
“Neither truth cancels the other.”
Jed stared at her.
“You make everything complicated.”
“You lived alone too long.”
“Peacefully.”
“Your cooking was terrible.”
“Cruel.”
She laughed.
Jed smiled.
Then he became serious.
“Alandre.”
Something in his voice changed.
“Yes?”
“I need to ask you something.”
She waited.
He stood.
Then paced once.
Alandre’s eyebrows rose.
“Are you nervous?”
“No.”
“You’re pacing.”
“Floor needed checking.”
“For what?”
“Weak spots.”
She tried not to smile.
Jed stopped.
“I don’t know how to do this.”
“That is becoming obvious.”
He exhaled.
“I loved somebody once.”
Alandre’s amusement disappeared.
“Before?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing dramatic. She married someone else because I never told her.”
Alandre stared.
“That seems consistent.”
Jed looked offended.
“I’m improving.”
“Marginally.”
He stepped closer.
“So I’m telling you.”
Her heart quickened.
“I love you.”
No poetry.
No performance.
Just truth.
Alandre’s eyes filled.
Jed immediately looked alarmed.
“That was apparently wrong.”
She laughed through tears.
“No.”
“Then why are you crying?”
“Because you are terrible at this.”
“I said that.”
She walked toward him.
“Jed.”
“Yes?”
“I loved Thomas.”
“I know.”
“I’ll always love him.”
“I know.”
“I don’t want loving you to mean I’ve left him behind.”
“It doesn’t.”
The immediate certainty in Jed’s voice broke something open inside her.
“How do you know?”
“Because I wouldn’t be standing here if Thomas hadn’t trusted me.”
Alandre cried harder.
Jed hesitated.
“Can I—”
She stepped into his arms before he finished.
He held her carefully.
As if strength could be gentle.
After a moment, Alandre whispered against his chest.
“I love you too.”
Jed went completely still.
She pulled back.
“Say something.”
“I had a speech.”
“That was the speech?”
“No. It’s gone.”
She laughed.
He kissed her.
Softly.
No urgency.
No attempt to erase grief or history.
Just a beginning.
When they separated, Jed touched his forehead to hers.
“So the room?”
Alandre smiled.
“Not storage.”
His face changed.
For the first time, hope looked more natural on Jedodiah Boone than guilt.
The next morning, however, another letter arrived.
From Missouri.
Addressed to Alandre.
Written in handwriting she did not recognize.
The first sentence made her sit down.
Mrs. Collins, my name is Rebecca Collins, and Thomas was my brother. There is something he asked me to give you if you ever decided to begin again.
Alandre stared at the page.
May you like
Even now, Thomas had one last promise waiting.
---
