Chapter 3 - The Ranch Beyond the Frozen Creek
Eda did not speak until Sheriff Bell had gone.
Silas repaired the broken window with a board while Ruth swept glass from the floor. Nobody complained about the cold entering through the cracks.
They were thinking about the bullet.
A few inches differently and it might have struck one of them.
Silas hammered the final nail.
Then turned.
“Who knows too much?”
Silence.
Eda looked at the others.
Pearl whispered, “Tell him.”
Eda shook her head.
“He'll be in danger.”
Silas glanced at the damaged wall.
“Little late for that.”
That almost made Ruth smile.
Almost.
Eda finally sat.
“At the freight station outside Fort Warren, we saw a ledger.”
Silas waited.
“Pike kept it in his office.”
“How did you see it?”
“Mabel can read bookkeeping.”
Mabel stepped forward.
“My father owned a store.”
“What was in the ledger?”
“Names,” Mabel said. “Payments. Towns.”
Silas felt something settle heavily in his stomach.
“People?”
Mabel nodded.
“Women mostly. Some boys.”
Joelle looked down.
“There were prices beside them,” Eda added.
Silas understood.
The seven women had not merely been victims.
They had become witnesses.
“Did you take it?”
“No,” Eda said. “But Mabel copied pages.”
Silas looked sharply at her.
“Where?”
Nobody answered.
Then Joelle reached beneath the hem of her dress.
She carefully removed several folded pieces of paper sewn inside the lining.
Silas stared.
Joelle handed them to Eda.
Eda placed them on the table.
Names.
Dates.
Payments.
Initials.
Locations.
And one name appearing repeatedly:
C. HUTCHKINS.
Silas exhaled.
Now everything made sense.
Clem had not wanted seven workers.
He wanted seven witnesses under his control.
Or dead.
Silas looked toward the barn.
His ranch suddenly felt very small.
“We need to get this to a federal marshal.”
“Where?” Ruth asked.
“Fort Warren.”
Eda shook her head.
“Pike has men there.”
“Then somewhere else.”
Sheriff Bell had mentioned a circuit judge expected in Red Creek within two weeks.
Two weeks was a long time.
Especially when Clem knew where they were.
Silas folded the copies.
“You stay here today.”
Eda stood.
“Where are you going?”
“Town.”
“No.”
Silas blinked.
“You don't order me.”
“You told us we were free.”
“You are.”
“Then I'm coming.”
“No.”
“That's an order.”
Silas sighed.
Eda crossed her arms.
He realized he had trapped himself.
“Fine.”
Ruth immediately said, “Then I'm coming too.”
“No.”
Both women stared at him.
Silas rubbed his forehead.
An hour later, Silas rode toward town with Eda and Ruth in the wagon.
He regretted every decision that had brought him to that moment.
Yet somewhere beneath the irritation was something unfamiliar.
Purpose.
For three years, Silas had awakened because cattle required feeding.
Now seven people required something more difficult.
A chance.
When they reached town, everyone stared.
News traveled fast.
They went first to Amos.
The sheriff studied the copied ledger pages.
“This could destroy half a dozen men.”
“Then start destroying,” Eda said.
Amos looked at her.
“Evidence has rules.”
“So do auctions apparently.”
Silas hid a smile.
Amos didn't.
“I need originals.”
“Pike has them.”
“Where?”
“Fort Warren station.”
Amos stood.
“Then we need a warrant.”
Silas frowned.
“From whom?”
“Judge Harland.”
“He's two counties away.”
“Exactly.”
Eda slammed her palm onto the desk.
“So while you chase paper, Clem can chase us?”
Amos met her anger calmly.
“I didn't make the law.”
“No. Men like Clem just learned how to hide behind it.”
That landed.
Amos looked away.
Then the office door opened.
A boy entered carrying a telegram.
“For Sheriff Bell.”
Amos read it.
His face changed.
“What?” Silas asked.
The sheriff handed him the message.
A body had been found near Fort Warren.
Male.
Freight broker.
Warren Pike.
Dead.
Eda stared.
“Clem?”
“Maybe,” Amos said.
Silas read the telegram again.
If Pike was dead, someone was cleaning up the operation.
And witnesses were next.
They returned to the ranch before sunset.
Everything looked normal.
Too normal.
Silas stopped the wagon.
“What?” Eda asked.
He pointed.
The barn door was open.
He had closed it.
Silas drew his revolver.
“Stay here.”
Eda ignored him immediately.
Together they approached.
Inside, hay had been thrown everywhere.
Tools scattered.
Feed sacks cut open.
Someone had searched the barn.
Silas moved toward the house.
The front door remained locked.
Inside, the other five women were safe.
But something had changed.
Joelle pointed toward the mantel.
“The picture.”
Abigail's portrait had been moved.
Silas lifted it.
Behind it, carved into the wall, were four words.
SEVEN DOLLARS WON'T SAVE THEM.
Silas stared until his vision blurred.
They had entered his home.
Touched Abigail's portrait.
Threatened the women beneath his roof.
Something inside him changed.
For three years, grief had made Silas withdraw from the world.
Now anger brought him back.
He turned toward Eda.
“We're done waiting.”
“What are you going to do?”
Silas looked toward the darkening road.
“Find out what Clem is afraid of.”
That night, however, they discovered Clem had left them something else.
Beneath Silas's barn floor, where one of the intruders had accidentally loosened an old plank, Ruth found a rusted metal box.
Silas stared at it.
He had never seen it before.
The ranch had belonged to Abigail's father before him.
He pried it open.
Inside were letters.
Receipts.
And a photograph.
Silas picked it up.
His blood went cold.
The photograph showed Clem Hutchkins standing beside three men.
One was Warren Pike.
One was the auctioneer.
And the fourth man was Abigail's father.
On the back, someone had written a date from twelve years earlier.
Below it were two words:
Boon Route.
Silas looked toward the portrait of his dead wife.
Suddenly the conspiracy was not merely at his doorstep.
It had been buried beneath his home for more than a decade.
May you like
And Abigail may have known about it before she died.
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