Chapter 3 - The Man Who Came for His Niece
Jonas slammed his palm against the door before the latch could lift.
"Door stays closed."
A man's voice answered calmly.
"Mr. Hargrave, I have no desire for trouble."
Jonas glanced at Clara.
She was trembling.
That was enough.
"You already brought it."
Edwin Harcourt waited outside.
"I came for my niece."
"She isn't leaving."
"That isn't your decision."
Clara stepped forward.
"Yes, it is."
Silence.
Then Edwin laughed softly.
"My dear Clara."
She flinched.
Jonas noticed.
He opened the door but kept the rifle ready.
Edwin Harcourt stood on the porch.
He was perhaps fifty, elegant despite the mountain journey, wearing a black wool coat and expensive gloves.
Two armed men waited near the trees.
Jonas raised his rifle.
Edwin lifted both hands.
"They're protection."
"So am I."
Edwin's gaze moved to Clara.
"You frightened everyone."
"I left a note."
"You stole from me."
Clara's chin rose.
"My mother's suitcase."
"And documents belonging to my business."
Jonas stepped between them.
"What documents?"
Edwin smiled.
"Private financial records."
"Funny. Your business partner's initials are all over them."
For the first time, Edwin's composure cracked.
Only slightly.
"You opened the suitcase."
"It's in my house."
Edwin looked at Clara.
"You have no idea what you've done."
"Then explain it."
"I'll explain in St. Louis."
"I'm not returning."
"You have no choice."
Jonas's rifle rose another inch.
"Everybody's got choices."
Edwin studied him.
"You think this is some romantic frontier adventure?"
"No."
"You barely know her."
"True."
"Then why risk your life?"
Jonas looked at Clara.
He didn't have a good answer.
Not yet.
"Because she's under my roof."
Edwin smiled coldly.
"How noble."
Clara stepped beside Jonas.
"I'm marrying him."
Edwin's smile disappeared.
"When?"
Clara looked at Jonas.
They had planned to visit the preacher once the weather cleared.
Now she said, "Tomorrow."
Jonas turned toward her.
She held his gaze.
Tomorrow.
Edwin's face changed.
"If you marry him, you'll regret it."
"Maybe."
"You don't understand your mother's estate."
"Then tell me."
Edwin walked closer.
Jonas blocked him.
Edwin stopped.
"Your mother owned more than money, Clara. She owned claims."
"What claims?"
"Railroad land."
Jonas remembered the numbers.
Edwin continued.
"Land that has become extraordinarily valuable."
"And Caldwell wants it."
Edwin said nothing.
That was answer enough.
Clara whispered, "Did you kill my mother?"
Everything stopped.
Even Edwin seemed stunned.
"No."
"Was her fall an accident?"
Edwin looked toward the trees.
"Some questions are dangerous."
Clara's voice broke.
"Answer me."
"I didn't kill Evelyn."
Not the same answer.
Jonas heard it.
Clara did too.
Edwin stepped backward.
"Come home."
"No."
"Last opportunity."
"No."
Edwin looked at Jonas.
"Then whatever happens next belongs to you."
He turned.
His men mounted.
They disappeared through the trees.
That night, Jonas couldn't sleep.
Neither could Clara.
He found her sitting beside the dying fire.
"Tomorrow?" he asked.
She looked embarrassed.
"I panicked."
"Apparently."
"You can refuse."
Jonas sat across from her.
"Do you want to marry me?"
She looked directly at him.
"Yes."
"Because of your inheritance?"
"Partly."
He appreciated the honesty.
"And the rest?"
Clara looked toward the fire.
"Because when you discovered I lied, you got angry."
"That's a reason?"
"You didn't threaten me."
Jonas went quiet.
"You don't know how unusual that feels."
Something inside him broke open.
Not dramatically.
Quietly.
He moved beside her.
"Clara."
She looked up.
"If we do this, you're not property."
Her eyes filled.
"Not mine. Not Edwin's. Not anybody's."
A tear slipped down her cheek.
Jonas wiped it away with his thumb.
Their faces were close.
Clara whispered, "You said you weren't promising love."
"I'm not good at promises."
"What are you good at?"
"Staying."
She kissed him.
Softly.
Briefly.
Then she pulled back, startled by her own courage.
Jonas stared at her.
"That wasn't practical."
"No."
"Good."
He kissed her again.
The next morning, they rode to Silver Plume.
Ezra came as witness.
Reverend Samuel Hart performed the ceremony inside the tiny church.
There were no flowers.
No family.
No music except wind against the windows.
Clara wore the burgundy dress.
Jonas wore his best black coat.
When Reverend Hart asked whether Jonas took Clara as his wife, Jonas looked into her blue-gray eyes.
"I do."
For once, the words felt bigger than he expected.
Clara answered the same.
They exchanged simple rings.
Jonas had bought hers months earlier.
He had considered marriage practical when he purchased it.
Now his hands shook slightly as he placed it on her finger.
Outside the church, Clara laughed as snow struck her face.
Jonas watched her.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You're staring."
"You're my wife."
She smiled.
"You're slow."
He kissed her.
Ezra loudly complained about being forced to witness affection before breakfast.
For several hours, the danger seemed far away.
Then Marshal Cole found them.
His expression destroyed the moment.
"Jonas."
"What?"
"We found something."
He led them behind the depot.
Silas Pike's body had been removed, but Cole showed them a small notebook recovered beneath loose floorboards near where Pike died.
Inside were names.
Payments.
Dates.
Caldwell.
Harcourt.
Railroad officials.
Judges.
Then Clara found one entry dated sixteen years earlier.
EVELYN H.—BALCONY—$2,000.
Her hands began shaking.
Jonas took the notebook.
"Who received the money?"
Cole pointed.
The name had been smeared.
But beneath it was another entry.
T. WHITMORE—SILENCE—$5,000.
Clara stared.
"My father?"
Jonas felt sick.
Her father had received money after her mother's death.
Why?
Before anyone could speak, a gunshot shattered the depot window.
Jonas threw Clara to the ground.
Cole drew his revolver.
Another shot struck the wall.
People screamed.
Jonas crawled behind a freight crate.
The shooter was somewhere across the tracks.
Then Clara gasped.
A man stood at the far end of the platform.
Edwin.
But he wasn't holding a gun.
He was pointing desperately toward the roof.
Jonas looked up.
A rifle barrel appeared above them.
May you like
The shooter pulled back the hammer.
And Clara was directly beneath him.
