Chapter 4 - The Woman Chosen to Disappear
Rosemary moved toward the stairs.
Thomas caught her arm.
“No.”
“They'll hurt him.”
“They'll hurt you too.”
“Then what do we do?”
Thomas looked toward the window.
Two riders.
Maybe three.
Darkness hid the rest.
Edwin shouted again.
“Don't come out!”
A fist struck him.
His cry stopped.
Rosemary flinched.
Thomas whispered, “Back door.”
Mrs. Palmer gathered her son.
They slipped through the kitchen.
Thomas guided them toward a neighbor's stable.
“Ride to the church.”
Mrs. Palmer nodded.
“What about you?”
“Go.”
She left with the boy.
Rosemary remained.
Thomas looked at her.
“You should go too.”
“No.”
“Rosemary.”
“They know we're here.”
“Yes.”
“They'll chase.”
“Probably.”
“So running separately gets one of us killed.”
Thomas stared.
She was right.
He hated it.
But she was right.
They moved around the house through darkness.
Thomas knew where the men had tied their horses.
He cut two loose.
The animals bolted.
A man cursed.
Thomas fired one shot into the air.
Chaos followed.
Rosemary ran toward Edwin.
He was tied beside the gate.
Thomas tackled the nearest guard.
Rosemary reached Edwin and pulled a small sewing knife from her pocket.
“Hold still.”
“Where did you get that?”
“I sew.”
“That doesn't explain why you carry a knife.”
“It explains enough.”
The rope cut.
Edwin staggered up.
Another man appeared.
Thomas hit him.
Hard.
They escaped through the back field.
By dawn, they had reached the church.
Sheriff Danner arrived two hours later.
Thomas placed the copied ledger pages on a table.
Danner read them without expression.
“Could be forged.”
Thomas stared.
“Everything could be forged if you're determined enough.”
Danner looked at Rosemary.
“You say someone tried to kill you.”
“Yes.”
“Did you see Silas Bell?”
“No.”
“Clara Whitmore?”
“No.”
“Then you have assumptions.”
“I have a false ticket and intercepted mail.”
“Doesn't prove attempted murder.”
Thomas's patience broke.
“They left her five miles from the ranch in a blizzard.”
Danner shrugged.
“Driver could've gotten lost.”
Rosemary understood.
Thomas had been right.
The sheriff wasn't incompetent.
He was protecting someone.
She placed Mrs. Dobbins's letter on the table.
“What about this?”
Danner read Nathaniel Price's name.
For the first time, his expression changed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
“You know him,” Rosemary said.
“Everybody knows Price.”
“No. You reacted.”
Danner set down the letter.
“Careful, Miss Caldwell.”
Thomas stepped closer.
“Don't threaten her.”
“I didn't.”
“You did.”
The church door opened.
Nathaniel Price walked in.
Rosemary had met him once.
Six months earlier.
He had written to her in response to an employment notice.
Not a marriage notice.
That had been the first lie.
Nathaniel was polished, gray-haired, and soft-spoken.
He had told Rosemary that a client in Montana sought a respectable wife.
He said Thomas was shy.
Honorable.
Financially secure.
He showed her Thomas's photograph.
And then the letters began.
Nathaniel looked at her now.
“My dear Miss Caldwell.”
Thomas moved between them.
“Don't.”
Nathaniel sighed.
“Thomas, this has gotten wildly out of hand.”
“You forged my signature.”
“No.”
“You intercepted my mail.”
“No.”
“You lied about my father's company shares.”
Nathaniel paused.
“Who told you that?”
Thomas smiled grimly.
“Wrong question.”
Nathaniel looked at Sheriff Danner.
The sheriff looked away.
There.
Rosemary saw it.
They were connected.
Nathaniel removed his gloves.
“Your father did retain shares.”
“You told me they were sold.”
“Because he intended them sold.”
“Did he?”
“Eventually.”
Thomas stepped closer.
“How much are they worth?”
Nathaniel didn't answer.
“How much?”
“Approximately ninety thousand dollars.”
Rosemary nearly stopped breathing.
In 1880s Montana, ninety thousand dollars was a fortune.
Thomas looked stunned.
Nathaniel continued.
“Possibly more.”
“And you hid that from me.”
“I protected you.”
“From what?”
“From people who would've manipulated you.”
Thomas laughed.
“You mean people other than you?”
Nathaniel's face hardened.
“This isn't funny.”
“No.”
Thomas looked toward Rosemary.
“It isn't.”
Nathaniel's eyes moved to her.
“She was supposed to decline.”
Rosemary felt cold.
“Decline what?”
“The arrangement.”
“You selected me.”
“I selected a dozen women.”
Thomas stared.
Nathaniel continued.
“Most refused after one or two letters.”
Rosemary understood slowly.
“You tested women.”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“Vulnerability.”
Thomas grabbed Nathaniel by the coat.
Sheriff Danner reached for his gun.
Rosemary stepped between them.
“Don't.”
Thomas released Nathaniel.
Rosemary looked directly at the lawyer.
“You wanted a woman with no family.”
Nathaniel said nothing.
“So if something happened to her…”
Thomas finished.
“No one would investigate.”
Nathaniel exhaled.
“That's an ugly interpretation.”
“It is the only interpretation.”
“No.”
Nathaniel looked tired.
“You were never supposed to reach Montana.”
Rosemary's mouth went dry.
“You were supposed to receive Thomas's rejection letters and remain in Ohio.”
“And when I came anyway?”
Nathaniel looked away.
“Silas improvised.”
Thomas's hands curled into fists.
“You knew.”
“I knew afterward.”
“You did nothing.”
“I attempted to contain the damage.”
“By doing what?”
“Convincing Clara to leave.”
Thomas laughed in disbelief.
“She was here yesterday.”
Nathaniel looked startled.
That seemed genuine.
“Where?”
“The depot.”
Nathaniel's face changed.
“Then she's made a mistake.”
“What mistake?”
Nathaniel walked toward the door.
Thomas blocked him.
“Where are you going?”
“If Clara has come back, we have a larger problem.”
“Why?”
Nathaniel looked at Rosemary.
“Because Clara isn't working for Silas.”
Thomas frowned.
“Then who?”
Nathaniel lowered his voice.
“Silas is working for Clara.”
The room went silent.
Nathaniel explained.
Clara Whitmore's family had spent years buying Helena Northern shares.
They were four percentage points short of control.
Thomas's hidden inheritance represented the deciding block.
If Thomas married Clara, her family gained access.
When Thomas rejected her, they tried another route.
Keep Thomas unmarried.
Keep him isolated.
Then force a sale through financial pressure.
Nathaniel had cooperated at first.
Not with murder.
With deception.
He intercepted Thomas's correspondence and engineered the mail-order arrangement.
He believed Rosemary would become discouraged.
She didn't.
Then Silas escalated.
Rosemary stared at Nathaniel.
“You used me as bait.”
Nathaniel looked ashamed.
“Yes.”
Thomas almost struck him.
Rosemary stopped him.
“No.”
Thomas turned.
“He chose you because he thought no one would care if you vanished.”
“I know.”
Her voice broke slightly.
“But I care what happens next.”
Thomas lowered his fist.
Nathaniel reached inside his coat.
Sheriff Danner drew his revolver.
Thomas moved.
Nathaniel froze.
“It's paper.”
He slowly removed a document.
“I came because I received this.”
Thomas took it.
A transfer agreement.
Thomas's shares.
Scheduled for sale in forty-eight hours.
Signature line:
THOMAS MERCER.
Already signed.
Forgery again.
Rosemary read the buyer.
WHITMORE TRANSPORTATION HOLDINGS.
“If this is filed…” she said.
Nathaniel nodded.
“Clara's family controls the company.”
Thomas looked at the sheriff.
“Arrest her.”
Danner shook his head.
“Can't arrest someone over a contract that isn't filed.”
“Then stop the filing.”
“Civil matter.”
Thomas laughed bitterly.
Nathaniel looked at Danner.
“You're paid.”
Danner's expression went flat.
“Careful.”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
Thomas stepped forward.
Danner drew his gun.
Everyone froze.
Danner pointed it at Thomas.
“I think it's time you all stop asking questions.”
The church doors opened.
Two deputies entered.
Guns drawn.
Rosemary looked from one to the other.
Danner smiled.
“For your own safety, Miss Caldwell, you'll be coming with us.”
Thomas moved in front of her.
Danner cocked the revolver.
“Don't.”
A bell rang outside.
Once.
Then again.
A wagon stopped.
Someone shouted.
Danner turned toward the window.
Nathaniel whispered:
“That's Clara.”
Rosemary looked outside.
A black carriage stood before the church.
Clara stepped down.
Beside her was Silas Bell.
Red hair.
Long coat.
And behind them, held between two armed men, was someone Rosemary recognized.
Mrs. Dobbins.
Her landlady from Ohio.
Clara looked through the church window.
May you like
She smiled.
Then she raised one finger and pointed directly at Rosemary.
