Chapter 10 - Nathaniel Reed Rode Up the Mountain
Nathaniel returned three days later.
This time Bethany came with him.
Charlene was surprised enough to step onto the porch without a coat.
Bethany looked nothing like the woman from the mercantile.
Her face was pale.
Her dress hung differently now.
Empty.
She kept one hand pressed against her stomach as if her body had forgotten there was nothing left to protect.
Charlene's anger toward her became complicated.
Grief recognized grief.
Even when pride did not want it to.
Nathaniel dismounted.
Bethany remained seated.
“Why is she here?”
Charlene asked.
Nathaniel's jaw tightened.
“She insisted.”
Bethany looked at Charlene.
“I need to speak with you.”
Nathaniel started.
“Bethany—”
“Alone.”
Charlene studied her.
Then nodded.
They walked toward the barn.
Bethany moved slowly.
At the corner she stopped.
“I lied.”
Charlene waited.
“About what?”
“The petition.”
Charlene's pulse quickened.
“Nathaniel told the county you were unstable.”
“What?”
Bethany's eyes filled.
“He said you had never recovered from the divorce.”
Charlene almost laughed.
“What does that have to do with Jeb's children?”
“He said Russell married you because you were desperate.”
Charlene's hands curled.
“And you came to tell me why?”
Bethany stared at the snow.
“Because I know what it feels like now.”
Charlene's anger faltered.
Bethany continued.
“To have people look at you and see only what your body failed to do.”
There it was.
The same cage.
Built by the same man.
“I'm sorry about your baby.”
Bethany swallowed hard.
“Thank you.”
“Does Nathaniel blame you?”
Silence answered.
Charlene felt sick.
Bethany whispered.
“He hasn't touched me since.”
“Bethany.”
“He sleeps in the guest room.”
Charlene closed her eyes.
History repeating itself.
Different woman.
Same cruelty.
“He told me we could try again in spring.”
“As though grief were a schedule.”
Bethany laughed through tears.
“I used to think you were bitter.”
“I was.”
“I thought that meant you deserved what happened.”
Charlene appreciated the honesty more than an easy apology.
“And now?”
Bethany looked toward the cabin.
“I think I was cruel because I wanted Nathaniel to believe I was different from you.”
Charlene understood that too.
“If I could give him a baby, he would never discard me.”
Her voice broke.
“I was wrong.”
Charlene stood quietly.
Then Bethany pulled folded papers from her coat.
“What are these?”
“Bank records.”
Charlene stared.
Bethany pushed them into her hands.
“Nathaniel keeps copies at home.”
“Why are you giving me these?”
“Because the Russell debt was paid.”
Charlene's heart slammed.
“What?”
“Years ago.”
She opened the pages.
Receipts.
Ledger entries.
A notation.
Satisfied in full.
Signed by Nathaniel's father.
Charlene could hardly breathe.
“These prove it.”
“Yes.”
“Does Nathaniel know you took them?”
“No.”
“Bethany, this could—”
“I know.”
Charlene looked at the younger woman.
For the first time, Bethany seemed neither rival nor replacement.
Only someone learning too late what Charlene had learned first.
“You need somewhere safe.”
“No.”
“Come inside.”
“Nathaniel would know.”
“He will anyway.”
Bethany looked toward the horses.
“He thinks I'm asking you to leave Jeb.”
Charlene almost smiled.
“That does sound like him.”
Bethany's face suddenly changed.
Fear.
“Nathaniel's been meeting a man named Silas Crowe.”
“Who?”
“Representative from Western Meridian Mining.”
Charlene remembered the silver.
“They offered him money?”
“A great deal.”
“How much?”
Bethany shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Behind them, snow crunched.
Nathaniel.
“How touching.”
Bethany went white.
Charlene folded the papers quickly.
Nathaniel's eyes fell to her hands.
“What did you give her?”
“Nothing.”
“Bethany.”
His voice carried the old command.
Bethany flinched.
Charlene stepped between them.
Nathaniel stared.
“Move.”
“No.”
“This is between my wife and me.”
Charlene's gaze hardened.
“You once said the same thing about our marriage whenever someone tried to help me.”
His face changed.
Bethany whispered, “Nathaniel, let's go.”
He looked at Charlene's pocket.
“What did she give you?”
“Proof.”
His expression froze.
Jeb appeared from the porch.
Caleb behind him.
Nathaniel saw them.
He stepped back.
“Those documents belong to the bank.”
“Then I assume they're accurate.”
“Return them.”
“No.”
He looked at Bethany.
“You stupid girl.”
Jeb moved.
Charlene held up a hand.
“Don't.”
Jeb stopped.
Charlene faced Nathaniel.
“You will not speak to her that way.”
Something strange passed through his face.
Humiliation.
He had lost control of both wives in the same moment.
“You think you've won?”
“This is not a game.”
“It became one when Russell interfered in my affairs.”
Jeb's voice came dangerously quiet.
“I met you the day I married Charlene.”
Nathaniel looked at him.
“Exactly.”
Everyone went still.
Charlene frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Nathaniel realized his mistake.
Too late.
Jeb stepped forward.
“You knew about me before?”
Nathaniel said nothing.
Bethany answered.
“He did.”
Charlene turned.
Bethany's face was pale.
“He knew Jeb had five children.”
“When?”
“Months ago.”
“Why?”
Bethany looked at Nathaniel.
“He investigated every household tied to land Western Meridian wanted.”
Charlene's stomach turned.
Nathaniel had known about the motherless Russell children.
Known about Sarah's death.
Known Jeb's desperation.
And when Jeb unexpectedly married Charlene—the woman Nathaniel had publicly discarded—the business matter became personal.
“You filed the child petition after we married.”
Nathaniel's silence confirmed it.
Charlene's voice shook.
“You used children to punish me.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I protected an investment.”
“You threatened to separate five siblings.”
Nathaniel's face hardened.
“They would be housed.”
Jeb moved so quickly Caleb grabbed his arm.
“Papa.”
That one word stopped him.
Jeb looked at his son.
Then back at Nathaniel.
“Get off my mountain.”
Nathaniel mounted.
Bethany did not.
He looked down.
“Get on your horse.”
Bethany stood beside Charlene.
“No.”
“What?”
“I am not going back.”
Nathaniel stared.
Snow began falling.
“Bethany.”
“No.”
His expression changed from anger to disbelief.
“You are my wife.”
Bethany's hand trembled.
“Yes.”
“And you'll obey me.”
Charlene's stomach twisted.
Bethany looked toward her.
Then at Jeb.
Then Nathaniel.
“No.”
It was barely audible.
But it changed everything.
Nathaniel left alone.
Bethany stood trembling on Wolverine Ridge.
Charlene put an arm around her.
Jeb looked at the bank papers.
“We can stop the foreclosure.”
“Maybe.”
Charlene knew Nathaniel.
He would not surrender easily.
That evening, while snow darkened the windows, they discovered the problem.
The receipt proved the old loan had been paid.
But the original bank ledger in Bitter Creek had vanished.
Without it, Nathaniel could claim Bethany's copies were forged.
Worse, his signature was nowhere on them.
The only man who had signed the payment confirmation was Nathaniel's father.
And Nathaniel Reed Sr. had been dead six years.
They had evidence.
But perhaps not enough.
Then Caleb remembered something.
“Sarah kept papers.”
Everyone looked at him.
“What papers?” Jeb asked.
Caleb pointed upstairs.
“In Mama's blue trunk.”
Jeb frowned.
“I emptied that.”
“No.”
Caleb shook his head.
“There's a false bottom.”
Jeb stared.
“How do you know?”
“Mama showed me.”
Charlene's heart began pounding.
They carried the trunk downstairs.
Caleb pressed two hidden catches.
The wooden panel lifted.
Inside lay several envelopes, a deed, and a leather-bound account book.
Jeb picked up the deed.
His face changed.
Charlene opened the account book.
Across the first page was written:
Property transactions — Wolverine Ridge
Below it were dates.
Payments.
Bank seals.
And one name.
Nathaniel Reed.
Not the son.
The father.
Sarah had hidden proof that Wolverine Ridge belonged entirely to Jeb.
But beneath the ledger lay one final letter.
Addressed not to Jeb.
Not to the children.
The handwriting said:
May you like
To the woman who comes after me.
Charlene stopped breathing.
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