Chapter 5 - The Price of a Name
Silas read the note twice.
Then he tore it in half.
Constance took the pieces from him.
“Don’t.”
“They want you.”
“They already wanted me.”
“You’re not going.”
“You cannot decide that.”
“Yes, I can.”
“No.”
Silas turned.
Constance had never seen fear in his eyes before.
Anger, yes.
Grief.
Suspicion.
But not fear.
Now it was unmistakable.
“They used you once,” he said. “I will not hand you to them.”
“And your sister?”
His face twisted.
“That is exactly what they expect you to say.”
Daniel entered.
“It may be a bluff.”
Silas rounded on him.
“You don’t get to gamble with Elizabeth.”
“No,” Daniel said quietly. “I don’t.”
Constance spread the papers across the table.
“They asked for me and the deeds.”
Abigail nodded.
“Because your signature is still required.”
“Then I have leverage.”
Silas stared.
“You are not leverage.”
“I am if I choose to be.”
That stopped him.
Constance stepped closer.
“All my life, people have decided what I was worth by looking at me. Too large. Too plain. Too old to be unmarried. Too desperate to have choices.”
Silas said softly, “I don’t.”
“I know.”
She touched his arm.
“That is why you have to let me make this choice.”
He hated it.
She could see that.
But he respected it.
That mattered more.
They formed a plan.
Constance would enter town with Daniel.
Silas and Abigail would circle behind the sheriff’s office.
The real deeds would remain hidden.
Constance carried copies.
At eleven thirty, they reached town.
Snow had begun again.
The streets were empty.
A lantern burned inside the old courthouse.
Constance walked in alone.
Sheriff Reed waited.
So did Clara Pike.
Amos Reed stood beside Earl, who was tied to a chair.
And in the corner sat a woman with dark hair streaked with gray.
Silas’s eyes.
Silas’s mouth.
Elizabeth.
Alive.
Constance almost gasped.
Elizabeth looked at her.
“Are you Constance?”
“Yes.”
“Then don’t sign anything.”
Amos struck the chair beside her.
“Quiet.”
Constance laid the papers on the table.
“Release them.”
Reed smiled.
“You’re not in a position to bargain.”
“I am if these are the only copies.”
Clara stepped closer.
“You really are exactly as stubborn as your letters suggested.”
Constance stared at her.
“You wrote them.”
Clara smiled.
“Most.”
“You made me believe a stranger wanted me.”
“Would you have come otherwise?”
“No.”
“Then they worked.”
Constance wanted to slap her.
Instead she smiled.
“You made one mistake.”
Clara’s expression changed.
“You assumed being humiliated would make me obedient.”
Outside, glass shattered.
Amos turned.
Silas came through the side door.
Chaos exploded.
Daniel fired from the back.
Abigail ran toward Earl.
Reed drew.
Silas tackled him.
Constance grabbed the table and overturned it.
Clara lunged for the papers.
Constance caught her wrist.
For a woman half Constance’s size, Clara fought viciously.
“You stupid cow,” she hissed.
Constance froze.
Years of insults returned in one instant.
Then something inside her became very calm.
She smiled.
“That all you have?”
Clara’s eyes widened.
Constance shoved her backward into the wall.
“You crossed three states to steal from me,” Constance said. “You forged letters, kidnapped women, and nearly destroyed an entire family.”
Clara reached for a knife.
Constance caught her arm.
“And somehow,” she said, “you still think my weight is the embarrassing part.”
She twisted.
The knife fell.
Across the room, Reed fired.
Silas jerked.
Constance screamed.
He fell.
Everything stopped inside her.
Then Elizabeth picked up the fallen revolver.
“Move away from my brother.”
Reed turned.
She shot the gun from his hand.
Deputies entered.
Not Reed’s men.
State marshals.
Daniel had sent evidence ahead two days earlier.
Reed stared at him.
“You traitor.”
Daniel looked exhausted.
“I was that twenty years ago.”
The arrests happened fast.
Clara.
Amos.
Reed.
Two others.
Earl survived.
Silas had been shot through the upper arm.
Constance knelt beside him.
“You idiot.”
He smiled weakly.
“Which part?”
“All of you.”
“That seems broad.”
She started crying.
His expression changed.
“Constance.”
“I thought—”
“I know.”
She pressed her forehead to his.
“You do not get to die after kissing me once.”
He laughed despite the pain.
“That would be rude.”
Elizabeth watched them.
Later, while Silas slept in the doctor’s office, she told Constance where she had been.
She had spent years moving between towns under false names.
Gathering evidence.
Watching Reed.
Trying to find her father.
She had returned to Montana two months earlier.
Reed caught her.
He planned to use her if Silas became a problem.
“He became one,” Constance said.
Elizabeth smiled.
“He always did.”
By morning, the state marshal had enough evidence to send the conspirators to trial.
Constance’s timber rights were secured.
Her father’s death, however, remained uncertain.
Daniel believed Samuel Bradley had died naturally.
Clara claimed otherwise.
Constance refused to let the uncertainty consume her.
Her father had protected her.
That truth was enough.
Three days later, Silas could travel.
They returned to the mountain.
Elizabeth came too.
So did Abigail, temporarily.
For the first time in years, the cabin felt crowded.
Silas pretended to complain.
Constance knew he loved it.
A week passed.
Then another.
Winter settled deep.
One evening, Constance found Silas standing beside her trunks.
“What?”
“You never unpacked the second one.”
She looked at it.
“I suppose I didn’t know how long I was staying.”
Silas was quiet.
Then he said, “How long are you?”
Her heart stumbled.
Constance looked at him.
“That depends.”
“On?”
“What you’re asking.”
He stepped closer.
“I don’t know how to say this elegantly.”
“Good. I distrust elegant men.”
He smiled.
“I want you here.”
“As your guest?”
“No.”
“As your cook?”
“Definitely not. Your biscuits are dangerous.”
She smacked his arm.
“The good one!”
“Ow.”
“Other arm.”
“Right.”
They laughed.
Then he became serious.
“I want you here because when you’re gone from a room, I notice.”
Constance stopped smiling.
“When something happens, you’re the person I want to tell.”
He took her hand.
“When I think of spring, you’re in it.”
Her eyes filled.
“Silas…”
“I know how this started.”
“So do I.”
“I know you were sent here as a joke.”
“Yes.”
He swallowed.
“But I would like the joke to be on them.”
Constance laughed through tears.
He pulled a small ring from his pocket.
Not gold.
Silver.
Handmade.
Rough.
Beautiful.
“Constance Bradley, would you—”
A rifle shot cracked outside.
Silas pulled her down.
Another shot shattered the window.
Elizabeth shouted from the back room.
“Silas!”
He grabbed his rifle.
Constance crawled toward the wall.
A voice came from outside.
Not Reed.
Not Amos.
A stranger.
“Bradley!”
Constance froze.
May you like
The man shouted again.
“Constance Bradley! Your father sent me!”
