Chapter 3 - Warehouse Seventeen
Mara shoved Silas against the wagon and screamed:
“Where is my baby?”
Silas pulled the ransom note from her fist and found a black freight seal pressed into the paper.
A tiny letter had been carved through the seal:
“M.”
Silas knew exactly which company used it.
Mercy Hollow Freight belonged to his family.
Mara went white.
“No.”
Silas read the note again.
WE HAVE ELI.
But Eli had been left with Mrs. Pike.
Unless someone had reached Mercy Hollow after they departed.
Silas mounted immediately.
“Denver can wait.”
Mara was already in the saddle.
They rode until the horses foamed.
When Mercy Hollow appeared below the ridge, smoke rose from town.
Mara’s heart stopped.
They reached the sheriff’s house.
The front door hung open.
Furniture had been overturned.
Mrs. Pike sat on the floor with blood along her forehead.
“Eli?”
Mara dropped beside her.
“They took him.”
“Annie?”
“Amos got her out the back.”
“Who?”
Mrs. Pike shook her head.
“Two men. Masks.”
“Where’s Amos?”
“Following them.”
Silas found hoofprints.
They led north.
Toward Mercer property.
He stared at them.
Mara saw.
“Your family company. Your land.”
“I know.”
“Tell me you’re not part of this.”
His head snapped toward her.
“You think I arranged my own barn burning?”
“I don’t know what to think!”
“I could have left you on that train platform.”
“And I could have walked away from you.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No.”
“Neither did I.”
They stared at each other.
Then Mara looked away.
“I’m sorry.”
“Save it. Find Eli.”
The tracks ended at an abandoned freight shed owned by Mercer Ranch.
Silas kicked in the door.
Empty.
Mara searched frantically.
A blanket lay on the floor.
Eli’s.
She picked it up.
Still warm.
“They were here.”
Silas found wheel marks outside the rear entrance.
“Wagon.”
“Denver?”
“Probably.”
They rode.
No rest.
No food.
Only fury.
At sunset they reached the outskirts of Denver.
Warehouse seventeen stood beside the rail yard.
Red door.
Just as Annie had said.
Silas tied the horses two streets away.
Mara checked her revolver.
“You stay behind me.”
She looked up at him.
“You really haven’t learned anything.”
“I’m bigger.”
“I’m meaner.”
“Debatable.”
For the first time since Eli vanished, her mouth almost smiled.
They entered through a broken side window.
Inside were crates.
Machinery.
Coal.
Then Silas heard it.
A child crying.
Mara ran.
He caught her around the waist.
“Wait.”
“That’s Eli.”
“I know.”
They moved silently between crates.
A lantern glowed inside an office.
Two guards.
One slept.
One drank.
Silas pointed left.
Mara nodded.
Thirty seconds later, both guards were unconscious.
Mara took the key.
They opened a rear storage room.
Six children stared back.
Mara’s face broke.
“Eli?”
A tiny cry answered.
She found him in a basket behind the others.
She lifted him.
He clung to her.
Mara buried her face against his hair.
Silas turned away to give her the moment.
Then he noticed the ledger.
It lay open on a desk.
Names.
Dates.
Payments.
Children listed by age.
He felt sick.
Mara joined him with Eli.
“Is that it?”
“Part of it.”
“Locker nine.”
They found section four.
Locker nine.
The brass key fit.
Inside were letters.
Photographs.
Receipts.
And a second ledger.
Mara opened it.
Her sister’s handwriting filled the margins.
She touched the ink.
“Clara.”
Silas stood beside her.
Then he saw a familiar name.
MERCER, NATHAN.
Alive.
Payments zero.
Status: infiltrator.
Next to it Clara had written:
TRUST HIM.
Silas closed his eyes.
His brother had been fighting them.
Mara found another page.
DR. HORACE VENN — MEDICAL CERTIFICATION.
SHERIFF—
She stopped.
Silas looked.
The next name had been scratched out.
“Someone removed it.”
Mara turned the page.
A photograph slipped free.
She picked it up.
Her breath caught.
Clara stood beside Nathan Mercer.
They were holding Eli together.
On the back, Clara had written:
If anything happens to us, Eli must go to Mara.
Silas looked from the photograph to the baby.
Then back.
“Mara.”
She already understood.
“No.”
“Clara was his mother.”
“Yes.”
“Nathan…”
Mara shook her head.
“No.”
But the photograph said what neither wanted to say.
Nathan was Eli’s father.
Silas reached toward the child.
His nephew.
Eli grabbed his finger.
Silas’s eyes filled.
Mara watched the enormous rancher bend over the tiny boy.
Something inside her shifted.
Not desire.
Not yet.
Something more dangerous.
Trust.
Footsteps sounded outside.
Silas extinguished the lantern.
Voices.
Many.
They gathered the children.
There were too many to carry quietly.
Mara whispered, “Back window.”
Silas nodded.
They moved one by one.
Then the office door opened.
“Stop.”
Dr. Horace Venn stood there.
Mara recognized him immediately.
He had signed Clara’s death certificate.
Beside him stood Sheriff Pike.
Mara froze.
“Amos?”
Silas raised his gun.
The sheriff raised his.
For one terrible second, nobody moved.
Then Amos fired.
The bullet passed Mara.
Dr. Venn dropped.
“Move!” Amos shouted.
Silas understood.
They ran.
Amos covered them.
Bullets exploded through the warehouse.
Mara carried Eli.
Silas carried two children.
They reached the alley.
A wagon waited.
Jonas Vale held the reins.
Mara aimed at him.
“Get away.”
“Unless you want to walk while being shot at, get in.”
Silas shoved the children aboard.
Mara climbed in.
Jonas whipped the horses.
They escaped through the rail district.
Sheriff Pike joined them two streets later on horseback.
“You’re alive,” Silas said.
“Disappointed?”
“Undecided.”
Amos looked at Jonas.
“So am I.”
They hid in an abandoned church outside Denver.
The rescued children slept across the pews.
Mara sat with Eli.
Silas approached.
“You should sleep.”
“So should you.”
“I’m not tired.”
“Liar.”
He sat.
For several minutes neither spoke.
Then Mara said, “He’s your nephew.”
“Yes.”
“Does that change things?”
“Yes.”
She looked at him.
“How?”
“He’s ours now.”
Mara’s eyes widened.
Silas immediately corrected himself.
“Meaning yours. And mine if we marry. I didn’t mean—”
“I know what you meant.”
Silence.
Mara smiled.
“You’re terrible at this.”
“At what?”
“Women.”
“I requested a quiet one for a reason.”
She laughed softly.
He looked at her.
“Why did you answer the advertisement?”
Mara’s smile disappeared.
“Clara had died. I had Eli. No money. No safe place. Then the agency letter arrived.”
“You were desperate.”
“Yes.”
“That’s not a good reason to marry.”
“No.”
“What would be?”
Mara studied him.
“Wanting to stay.”
Silas said nothing.
Neither looked away.
He leaned closer.
She did too.
Eli sneezed.
They separated.
Mara laughed into her hand.
Silas muttered something impolite.
For a few hours, they had peace.
Then Sheriff Pike opened Clara’s ledger again.
“I found something.”
Everyone gathered.
He pointed to repeated payments.
All originated from one account.
M.H. BANK.
Silas frowned.
“Mercy Hollow Bank?”
“Yes.”
“Who owns it?”
“Elias Crowe.”
Mara knew the name.
Everyone in Colorado knew it.
Railroad investor.
Mine owner.
State senator.
A man wealthy enough to buy judges.
Jonas shook his head.
“Crowe is involved, but he isn’t the head.”
“Who is?” Mara asked.
Jonas looked toward Silas.
“That’s what Nathan discovered.”
A bell rang outside.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The church door opened.
A man stumbled inside.
Silas stood.
The stranger was thin, bleeding, and half frozen.
He looked directly at Silas.
“Brother.”
Silas stopped breathing.
May you like
Nathan Mercer collapsed onto the church floor.
And behind him, someone cocked a revolver.
