Chapter 4 - A Daughter’s Price
Nora kept the rifle aimed at her father.
Elias laughed.
“You going to shoot me?”
Her hands shook.
“Maybe.”
“No, you won’t.”
He knew her too well.
Or believed he did.
Behind him rode three of Voss’s men.
Silas lay partly hidden against the rocks.
Blood continued soaking his shoulder.
Elias extended one hand.
“Give me the rifle.”
Nora did not move.
“Nora.”
“Did you kill Mama?”
The smile disappeared.
One of the men shifted uneasily.
Elias’s eyes hardened.
“Who’s been filling your head?”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Did Voss?”
Silence.
That frightened her more.
Nora tightened her grip.
“You forged my name.”
“You were a child.”
“You stole my land.”
“I managed family property.”
“You sold me twice.”
“I saved this family!”
“There is no family!”
The words echoed against the mountain.
Elias stared at her.
Then his expression turned ugly.
“You think your mother was some saint?”
Nora’s breath caught.
“What does that mean?”
“She planned to leave.”
Silas opened his eyes faintly.
Nora lowered the rifle a fraction.
“Leave you?”
“Yes.”
Elias spat into the dirt.
“She wanted Cedar Ridge. Wanted you. Wanted to run east.”
Nora imagined another life.
A train.
Her mother alive.
A home without fear.
“She should have.”
Elias’s face twisted.
“Ungrateful girl.”
One of Voss’s men interrupted.
“We don’t have time.”
Elias gestured.
“Take her.”
Nora raised the rifle.
“I’ll shoot.”
The nearest rider dismounted.
Silas moved suddenly.
His revolver fired.
The man dropped.
Chaos erupted.
Nora fired toward another horseman.
The mule bolted.
Silas grabbed her wrist.
“Run!”
They stumbled downhill through thick timber.
Elias shouted behind them.
Silas was weakening quickly.
Nora supported half his weight.
They reached a creek.
“Cross,” Silas gasped.
“Why?”
“Tracks.”
They waded through freezing water.
Nora’s boots filled instantly.
They followed the stream beneath overhanging branches.
Behind them men shouted.
After a quarter mile Silas pointed toward a narrow crevice between boulders.
“Inside.”
It was barely large enough.
They squeezed through.
A shallow cave opened beyond.
Nora helped Silas sit.
His face was pale.
“Let me see.”
The bullet had passed through the upper shoulder.
Good.
But bleeding remained heavy.
Nora tore fabric from her petticoat and packed the wound.
Silas grunted.
“Sorry.”
“Do it.”
She bound him tightly.
Outside, riders passed nearby.
Elias’s voice carried through trees.
“Nora!”
She froze.
“You think that man cares about you?”
Silas looked at her.
Elias continued.
“He bought you because he wants Cedar Ridge too!”
Nora’s gaze shifted.
Silas said nothing.
Her stomach tightened.
“Is that true?”
“Not how he means.”
“That isn’t no.”
Outside, Elias laughed.
“Ask him who approached the railroad first!”
Nora stared at Silas.
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“My father wanted your title corrected.”
“You contacted them?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Two months ago.”
“The same time they began investigating.”
“Yes.”
Nora pulled away.
“You started all this.”
Silas’s face tightened.
“I was trying to return your land.”
“You never told me.”
“You didn’t know me.”
“You could have come to me.”
“I tried.”
“When?”
“Three times.”
She searched her memory.
No.
Then remembered Elias mentioning a mountain drifter appearing near the ranch.
Pa had driven him away.
“You were there.”
“Yes.”
“You should have tried again.”
“I did.”
“And then?”
“Elias threatened to kill me.”
Outside, hoofbeats moved farther away.
Nora lowered her voice.
“Why did you care so much?”
Silas looked down.
For once, his silence seemed less stubborn than vulnerable.
“My father died ashamed.”
Nora waited.
“He promised Margaret.”
His voice roughened.
“He believed he failed her.”
“That wasn’t your promise.”
“No.”
“Then why spend years carrying it?”
Silas looked at Nora.
“Because somebody should keep one.”
The answer broke through her anger.
Not completely.
But enough.
They remained hidden until dark.
Silas drifted in and out of sleep.
Nora listened to his breathing.
The man had lost his mule.
Four hundred dollars.
Possibly his horse.
Nearly his life.
And still he had never asked anything from her.
At midnight she whispered, “Silas.”
His eyes opened.
“What?”
“If we survive, I want you to stop treating me like something breakable.”
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
“You got shot at today.”
“So did you.”
“I’m used to it.”
“That may be the stupidest argument I’ve heard.”
A faint smile appeared.
Nora adjusted the bandage.
“You need a doctor.”
“Tomorrow.”
“Dr. Foster?”
“Yes.”
“We lost the horses.”
“Walk.”
“You can barely sit.”
“Then slower walk.”
She shook her head.
“You’re impossible.”
“Yes.”
At dawn they emerged.
The forest was empty.
The mule returned while Nora gathered water, dragging part of its rope.
She nearly kissed the animal.
They put Silas in the saddle.
Nora walked beside him.
By afternoon they reached Silver Creek.
Dr. Foster was a thin, elderly man with bright eyes.
He removed the bullet fragments, cleaned the wound, then examined Margaret’s powder.
“I can’t identify this precisely here.”
Nora’s heart sank.
“But?”
He smelled it carefully.
“Arsenic compounds were common in certain tonics.”
Nora gripped the table.
“Could it kill someone?”
“Yes.”
“Could symptoms resemble illness?”
“Yes.”
Dr. Foster looked troubled.
“Where did this come from?”
“My mother’s medicine.”
He stared at her.
“When did she die?”
“Eight years ago.”
“Name?”
“Margaret Bell.”
The doctor’s face changed.
Nora noticed.
“You knew her.”
He looked toward the door.
Then locked it.
“I treated Margaret Bell.”
Nora stopped breathing.
“My father said no doctor came.”
“I came.”
“When?”
“The night she died.”
Silas sat upright despite pain.
“What did you see?”
Dr. Foster removed his spectacles.
“She was already dying.”
Nora’s eyes burned.
“Did she say anything?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
The doctor hesitated.
“She asked me to protect you.”
Nora covered her mouth.
“I went to Sheriff Hale the next morning.”
“What happened?”
“He told me Margaret died naturally.”
“Did you believe him?”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you challenge it?”
The doctor looked ashamed.
“Because Harlan Voss owned the sheriff.”
Nora turned away.
Again.
Everyone had been afraid.
Everyone had chosen survival.
Her mother had been left alone.
Dr. Foster opened an old cabinet.
“I kept my notes.”
He removed a leather medical ledger.
Margaret Bell.
November 14, 1879.
Vomiting.
Severe abdominal pain.
Weak pulse.
Possible toxic ingestion.
Patient states husband provided powder obtained from H. Voss.
Nora’s knees weakened.
Silas caught her with his good arm.
She did not pull away.
“This proves it,” she whispered.
Dr. Foster shook his head.
“It proves suspicion.”
“Enough for a judge?”
“Perhaps with the other documents.”
Silas said, “County judge arrives Red Hollow Friday.”
Nora looked at him.
“For railroad hearings?”
“Yes.”
Three days.
If they reached the judge with everything, they could challenge the forged deed.
And expose Elias and Voss.
Dr. Foster handed over the ledger.
“Take it.”
A crash sounded in the front room.
Silas reached for his gun.
The doctor blew out the lamp.
Footsteps entered the clinic.
Slow.
Heavy.
May you like
A man’s voice came through the door.
“Harlan Voss would like to speak with Nora Bell.”
