Chapter 6 - The Winter Claim
Rebecca did not open the box at Blackwater Crossing.
She rode back to the valley first.
Lydia followed at a distance.
Rebecca had not invited her.
She had not forbidden her either.
By the time they reached the shack, snow had begun falling again.
Rebecca closed the shutters.
Lit the stove.
Checked the clearing twice.
Then she dragged the iron box from its hiding place.
Lydia knelt beside it.
Rebecca removed the tiny key from inside the wooden button.
It fit a nearly invisible opening beneath the box handle.
A click sounded.
Rebecca lifted the lid.
Nothing happened.
Inside lay old cloth.
She removed it.
Beneath was a shallow compartment containing letters.
No patent.
No gold.
Lydia pointed toward the inside hinge.
“Press there.”
Rebecca found a small metal tab.
She pressed.
The false bottom released.
Below it lay a stack of documents sealed inside waxed leather.
Rebecca lifted them carefully.
The first bore a government seal.
LAND PATENT.
ELIAS MERCER.
Rebecca read the acreage description twice.
It covered almost the entire valley.
Creek rights included.
“Then it’s mine.”
Lydia shook her head.
“Not yet.”
Rebecca looked up sharply.
“Elias had one child. Hannah. I’m Hannah’s daughter.”
“Legally, you must establish the chain of inheritance.”
“Silas and Hannah were married.”
“If someone admits Hannah was Elias’s daughter.”
Rebecca understood.
“The county records.”
“Were changed.”
“So Harlon can claim I’m nobody.”
“He can try.”
Rebecca opened another document.
A birth record.
HANNAH MERCER.
Father: Elias Mercer.
Rebecca almost laughed.
“Then he loses.”
Lydia did not smile.
“Only if the court accepts it.”
“What court?”
“Territorial district court.”
“How far?”
“Three days by rail after Silver Junction.”
Rebecca looked at the snow.
“Winter.”
“Yes.”
“And Harlon knows there may be papers.”
“He has suspected for twenty years.”
Rebecca spread everything across the table.
“What else do we have?”
Letters.
Invoices.
Survey copies.
Water-right filings.
Statements signed by neighboring ranchers.
Then one document changed Lydia’s expression.
“What?”
Lydia took it.
“A deposition.”
“From whom?”
Lydia read the signature.
“Wyatt Kums.”
Rebecca froze.
The sheriff.
The document was dated nineteen years earlier.
In it, young Wyatt Kums stated he had personally witnessed Elias Mercer present his federal patent at the county office.
Rebecca read it.
“Kums knew.”
“Yes.”
“He knows the valley belonged to Elias.”
“Yes.”
“And he marched me out of town.”
Lydia’s mouth tightened.
“Knowing who you were.”
Rebecca sat.
The betrayal no longer surprised her.
That frightened her.
“Why sign this?”
“Perhaps Wyatt once had a conscience.”
“Where did it go?”
“Pine Hollow.”
Rebecca almost smiled.
Then Lydia found another paper.
Her face drained.
“What?”
Lydia handed it over.
It was a freight manifest.
Signed by Delbert Marsh’s father.
The cargo description read:
TWO CRATES MINING TOOLS. ONE LOCKED TRUNK. PERSONAL EFFECTS OF E. MERCER.
Destination:
PUIT STORAGE, PINE HOLLOW.
Date:
Three days after Elias disappeared.
Rebecca stared.
“Harlon’s family took his things.”
“Yes.”
“After he vanished.”
“Yes.”
“That’s theft.”
“At minimum.”
“What was in the trunk?”
“I don’t know.”
Rebecca looked toward the journals.
“Maybe proof of what happened.”
Lydia stood.
“You are not going back to Pine Hollow.”
Rebecca laughed.
“Everybody keeps telling me where I’m not going.”
“Rebecca.”
“What?”
“If Puit still has that trunk, he has guarded it twenty years.”
“Then he must value something inside.”
“Which is precisely why you should stay away.”
Rebecca gathered the documents.
“I need witnesses.”
“You have me.”
“You disappeared too.”
Lydia stiffened.
“I did not disappear.”
“To Pine Hollow you did.”
Rebecca softened slightly.
“I need somebody they can’t dismiss.”
“Micah.”
“He’ll be called an old friend.”
“Widow Amory.”
“What does she know?”
Lydia looked toward the door.
“More than she ever told you.”
Rebecca sighed.
“Of course.”
She repacked the documents.
For the first time, she noticed a small sealed envelope tucked along the bottom.
No name.
She opened it.
Inside was a short note written by Elias.
If this box is found and I am gone, the winter claim must be made before January first. Failure to occupy the land through one full winter may permit an abandonment challenge under county filing.
Rebecca looked up.
“What date is it?”
“October twenty-third.”
“So I have to stay.”
Lydia nodded.
“If Harlon contests the patent as abandoned, physical occupation strengthens your position.”
Rebecca almost laughed.
“He threw me out of town and sent me directly onto the land he didn’t want me to claim.”
“Perhaps he thought you’d leave.”
Rebecca looked around the leaking shack.
The burned lean-to.
The cracked window.
The thin walls.
“Maybe I will.”
Lydia watched her.
Rebecca smiled faintly.
“In spring.”
The next week became war against winter.
The Reeds returned.
Micah brought lumber after dark.
Widow Amory sent blankets.
Rebecca sealed cracks with mud and straw.
She stacked firewood until her shoulders ached.
She repaired the roof.
She learned where ice formed along the creek.
She dug a shallow root cellar.
She bought beans, flour, salt, coffee, oats, dried apples, and lamp oil through Thomas Reed, who made purchases in another town.
She spent fourteen of Elias Mercer’s silver coins.
Each one felt like borrowing from a ghost.
By early November, the valley was white.
One evening, Rebecca stepped outside.
Smoke rose cleanly from the chimney.
Juno stood beneath the repaired lean-to.
For the first time the shack looked inhabited.
Rebecca touched the hidden key inside her button.
“Winter claim,” she whispered.
Then she saw tracks.
Boot tracks.
Near the creek.
Fresh.
They did not belong to her.
The prints circled the shack.
Then disappeared toward the northern cliffs.
Rebecca followed them cautiously.
Snow fell harder.
The tracks led to the gray rock marked on Elias’s map.
SECOND RECORD. WINTER MARKER.
Rebecca found a narrow crevice.
Inside was a stone cairn.
She removed three rocks.
Behind them lay a rusted tin cylinder.
Rebecca pulled it free.
Inside was a rolled paper.
Another survey.
But this one showed more than property lines.
Someone had marked a tunnel in the cliff.
A tunnel running beneath the northern ridge.
Beside it Elias had written:
IF THEY COME FOR THE WATER, SHOW THEM WHAT PUIT BURIED HERE.
Rebecca heard a branch snap.
She turned.
A man stood twenty yards behind her.
Hat low.
Rifle in his hands.
Rebecca raised hers.
The stranger looked at the paper.
Then at Rebecca.
“You shouldn’t have found that.”
He raised his rifle.
Before either of them fired, another shot cracked across the valley.
The stranger’s hat flew off.
He dropped behind a rock.
Rebecca spun toward the sound.
On the opposite ridge stood a woman on horseback.
May you like
Even at that distance, Rebecca could see one thing clearly.
The woman wore a wooden button around her neck.
