Chapter 4 - The Secret Sewn Into Her Coat
Elias nailed the note to his kitchen table.
Clara objected.
“What are you doing?”
“Keeping it.”
“Burn it.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want Samuel seeing it.”
“Then he won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
Elias looked toward the stairs where the boy slept.
“Fine.”
He folded the note and slid it into his pocket.
Clara began pacing.
“Tomorrow we leave.”
“No.”
She stopped.
“You don’t decide.”
“No, but I can tell you when an idea is foolish.”
“They know we’re here.”
“Which means they know where you’ll start from if you run.”
“I’ve survived this long.”
“Barely.”
Her face hardened.
“Barely counts.”
Elias recognized the stubbornness because it resembled his own.
“You’ll take Samuel onto an open road with someone tracking you.”
“I can’t keep him here.”
“Why?”
She stared.
“Because this is your home.”
“So?”
“They will come here.”
“Likely.”
“You could die.”
“So could Samuel if you take him out there.”
“That’s not fair.”
“No.”
“What?”
“None of this is fair.”
Clara’s breath shook.
Elias softened his voice.
“But fairness doesn’t matter. What keeps the boy alive does.”
She looked away.
For several moments the only sound was firewood settling in the stove.
Then Elias pulled out a chair.
“Sit.”
“No.”
“Clara.”
“Stop ordering me.”
“I’m trying to keep you from wearing a path through my floor.”
Despite herself, she sat.
Elias sat opposite her.
“Who’s Victor Hale?”
She rubbed her thumb against the bruise fading around her wrist.
“My husband’s supervisor.”
“What did your husband do?”
“Freight records.”
“Railroad?”
“Private freight company contracted with the railroad.”
“Creed?”
Clara looked at him sharply.
Elias nodded.
“Thought so.”
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
“How?”
“Victor Hale worked for Creed nine years ago.”
That changed everything.
“You know him?”
“Met him.”
“When?”
“When Thomas died.”
Clara’s stomach tightened.
“Your brother.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Elias leaned back.
“You first.”
She almost refused.
Then she thought of the note.
GIVE IT BACK.
There was no safe way to remain half honest anymore.
“Daniel found irregularities.”
“What kind?”
“Freight shipments. Land transfers. cattle brands. Payments.”
Elias became very still.
“He wrote them down.”
“In what?”
Clara hesitated.
“A ledger.”
Elias’s gaze shifted toward her coat hanging near the stove.
“Where is it?”
“Safe.”
“That means here.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t need to.”
She stood.
“This was a mistake.”
“Sit down.”
“No.”
“Clara, if Victor Hale wants that book badly enough to follow you through a blizzard, I need to know what’s in it.”
“You don’t need anything.”
“He rode onto my land.”
“He sent someone.”
“Same difference.”
She stared at him.
The fear inside her was changing shape.
For months she had been afraid of men finding her.
Now she was afraid of trusting the wrong man.
Trust was worse because it required participation.
She went upstairs.
Elias did not follow.
Five minutes later she returned carrying the ledger wrapped in cloth.
She placed it on the table.
Elias stared at it.
“That?”
“That.”
“All this for a book?”
Clara opened it.
“Not a book.”
He read.
His expression changed page by page.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
When he reached page forty-seven, his jaw tightened.
Clara watched.
“You saw your name.”
“Yes.”
“I thought—”
“I know what you thought.”
“Daniel marked you as a loss.”
Elias’s fingers rested beside Thomas Ror’s name.
Thomas appeared two lines beneath Elias.
The same triangle marked both.
Clara saw Elias’s face change.
For the first time since she met him, the rancher looked wounded.
Not physically.
Somewhere deeper.
“Daniel knew about Thomas,” Elias whispered.
“Apparently.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
Elias turned pages quickly.
“Here.”
He pointed.
CREED/HALE — NORTH FORK CLAIM — forged lien — Ror dispute.
Then another entry.
T. ROR threatened legal filing. Removed before hearing.
Clara’s skin chilled.
“What does ‘removed’ mean?”
Elias stared at the words.
“My brother disappeared three days before the hearing.”
“You said he died.”
“He did.”
“You found him?”
“Two weeks later.”
Clara closed her eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
“He was in a ravine twenty miles north.”
“Accident?”
“That’s what Sheriff Pike said.”
“The sheriff named in Daniel’s book.”
“Yes.”
Elias continued reading.
His face grew harder.
“My brother said Creed stole land from homesteaders. I thought he was angry because of a business disagreement.”
“He was right.”
“Looks that way.”
Clara sat across from him.
“Why did Creed give you this ranch?”
“He didn’t give it.”
“You paid three dollars.”
“And agreed to stop asking questions.”
Clara stared.
Elias did not look proud.
“I was twenty-eight. Thomas was dead. My mother had just died. I wanted out.”
“You let it go.”
“Yes.”
The blunt admission surprised her.
“I told myself there was nothing I could prove.”
“Maybe there wasn’t.”
“I told myself Thomas wouldn’t want me dead too.”
“That might be true.”
“I told myself a lot of things.”
He closed the ledger.
“None sounded as good after a few years.”
Clara understood.
Survivors were experts at creating arguments for survival.
The shame arrived later.
“So what now?”
Elias looked at her.
“Now we stop running.”
Her chair moved backward.
“No.”
“We have evidence.”
“We have paper.”
“That’s evidence.”
“Against a sheriff, a judge and one of the richest bankers in Wyoming.”
“Then we find someone above them.”
“That was Daniel’s plan.”
Elias fell silent.
Clara’s voice cracked.
“He believed if he documented everything, the right person would help.”
“What happened?”
“You know.”
Elias looked toward Samuel’s room.
“I’m not Daniel.”
“No.”
“And you’re not making the same choices again.”
“You don’t get to tell me what choices I make.”
“Not yours.”
He pointed upstairs.
“His.”
Clara stood.
“Don’t use my son against me.”
“I’m trying to keep him alive.”
“So am I!”
Her voice echoed.
Both froze.
Upstairs Samuel shifted but did not wake.
Clara covered her face.
“I’m sorry.”
Elias lowered his voice.
“So am I.”
She sat again.
“What do you suggest?”
“We make copies.”
“How?”
“Schoolteacher owns a small printing press.”
“Can we trust him?”
“Daniel marked him with a triangle.”
Clara looked at the ledger.
A loss.
Another victim.
“Jonah Bell.”
Elias nodded.
“He lost his farm twelve years ago. Creed took it over a debt Jonah swore he never signed.”
“Would he help?”
“He hates Creed more than he likes breathing.”
“That isn’t the same as trustworthy.”
“No.”
Elias considered.
“But it’s somewhere to start.”
The following morning, they agreed Clara would remain at the ranch while Elias visited Jonah.
Samuel was not told why.
He believed Elias needed school papers.
Before leaving, Elias took the ledger.
Clara grabbed his wrist.
“No.”
“You can’t take it.”
“Then what does Jonah copy?”
“I go.”
“Too dangerous.”
“I’m not giving you the original.”
“Then make a page copy.”
“How?”
Elias thought.
Finally he took paper and carefully copied three entries by hand.
His handwriting was slower than Daniel’s but clear.
He folded the pages inside his shirt.
“Happy?”
“No.”
“Good. Means we’re thinking properly.”
He left.
Hours passed.
Noon.
Afternoon.
Snow began again.
Not a storm.
Soft flakes.
At four, Samuel ran inside.
“Ma?”
“Yes?”
“There’s a horse coming.”
Clara rushed to the window.
Elias.
Relief hit her.
Then she noticed his posture.
He was leaning low over the saddle.
Something dark stained his sleeve.
She ran outside.
“Elias!”
He nearly fell when he dismounted.
Clara grabbed him.
“What happened?”
“Jonah’s place.”
“What?”
“Burned.”
Her blood went cold.
“Jonah?”
“Gone.”
“Gone where?”
“Don’t know.”
Elias opened his hand.
Inside was a brass button torn from a coat.
Stamped on its back were two letters.
V.H.
Victor Hale.
Clara stared at it.
Elias looked toward the horizon.
“They knew where I was going before I got there.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
Then both turned slowly toward the ranch house.
Because only three people knew Elias had left for Jonah Bell.
Elias.
Clara.
And Samuel.
Unless someone else had been close enough to hear.
Close enough to watch.
Close enough to know everything happening inside the Ror ranch.
That night, Elias searched the property.
Near the north fence he found footprints.
Not one set.
Two.
They led from the cottonwoods to a spot directly beneath Clara’s bedroom window.
And beside the tracks lay something Samuel immediately recognized.
May you like
One of his oversized work gloves.
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