Chapter 4 - The Brother Who Came Back From the Dead
Mara raised her gun and shouted:
“Behind you!”
Silas dragged Nathan aside and saw a silver pocket watch fall from his coat.
Its lid carried the Mercer family crest.
Someone had scratched a single word beneath it:
“FATHER.”
Silas forgot how to breathe.
The gunman fired.
Jonas returned fire.
The church erupted.
Silas carried Nathan behind a stone pillar while Mara crawled toward the children.
Amos shot through a stained-glass window.
The attacker fled.
By the time they reached the road, he was gone.
Nathan remained alive.
Barely.
Silas knelt beside him.
Four years.
Four years of grief stood between them.
Nathan opened his eyes.
“You got old.”
Silas laughed and cried at once.
“You look worse.”
“Feels worse.”
Mara brought water.
Nathan saw Eli.
His face collapsed.
“My boy.”
Mara hesitated.
Then placed Eli beside him.
Nathan touched his son’s cheek.
“Clara?”
Mara shook her head.
Nathan closed his eyes.
No dramatic cry came.
Only one broken breath.
“I tried.”
“I know,” Mara whispered.
“I promised her.”
“So did I.”
Nathan looked at her.
“You’re Mara.”
“Yes.”
“Clara said you were trouble.”
“She was right.”
Nathan almost smiled.
Then he noticed Silas.
“And you.”
“What?”
“Quiet wife?”
Mara burst out laughing.
Even Amos laughed.
Silas looked betrayed.
“My brother nearly dies and chooses mockery.”
“Family tradition,” Nathan whispered.
For a few minutes, the darkness loosened.
Then Nathan showed them the watch.
Their father’s.
August Mercer had died twelve years earlier.
Or so Silas had believed.
Nathan pointed at the scratched word.
“Not our father.”
“Then what?”
“Father Gideon.”
The church priest.
Silas turned toward the altar.
Father Gideon Shaw had baptized both Mercer boys.
He had buried their mother.
He had comforted Silas after Nathan’s supposed death.
Nathan’s voice became strained.
“Gideon keeps records. Confessions. Names.”
“Why scratch father into the watch?”
“Clara did it.”
Mara leaned closer.
“She knew?”
“She suspected Gideon had the final ledger.”
“Is he involved?”
Nathan shook his head.
“No. He’s been collecting evidence for years.”
“Where is he?”
“Mercy Hollow.”
Amos frowned.
“He left town yesterday.”
Nathan looked alarmed.
“For where?”
“Nobody knows.”
Nathan tried to sit.
“Then they found out.”
Silas pushed him down.
“You’re not moving.”
“We need Gideon.”
“We need you alive.”
Nathan grabbed his sleeve.
“You don’t understand. Crowe isn’t running this.”
“Who is?”
Nathan looked at Amos.
Then Mara.
Then Silas.
“Judge Hollister.”
Amos swore.
Judge Edwin Hollister controlled half the county courts.
He approved guardianships.
Adoptions.
Property transfers.
Everything necessary to make stolen children disappear legally.
Mara felt cold.
“How many?”
Nathan looked toward the sleeping children.
“Hundreds.”
Nobody spoke.
The operation had existed for eleven years.
Children disappeared from poor families, immigrant settlements, mining camps, and orphanages.
Some were sold as servants.
Others were adopted for money.
Older boys went to mines.
Girls to households.
Clara discovered it because freight weights did not match manifests.
Nathan had discovered it earlier.
He faked his death to infiltrate the network.
“Why not tell Silas?” Mara asked.
Nathan looked at his brother.
“Because they threatened him.”
Silas frowned.
“Me?”
“They knew who I was.”
“You let me bury an empty coffin.”
“I let you stay alive.”
Silas stood abruptly.
He walked outside.
Mara followed.
He stood beneath the church bell.
Anger shook through him.
“You don’t have to talk.”
“Good.”
She waited.
After a while he said, “I hated him.”
Mara said nothing.
“For dying.”
“He didn’t.”
“I know that now.”
“You loved him.”
“That was the problem.”
Mara leaned against the wall.
“I was angry at Clara too.”
Silas looked at her.
“For dying?”
“For leaving me Eli. For leaving me questions. For making me afraid every minute of every day.”
“You’re allowed.”
“So are you.”
His shoulders lowered.
Mara reached for his hand.
He looked at their joined fingers.
“You don’t seem quiet.”
“I can leave.”
His hand closed around hers.
“No.”
One word.
Enough.
Mara looked up.
Silas bent toward her.
This time there was no interruption.
He kissed her.
Slowly.
Carefully.
As if the wild woman from the train platform might break.
She grabbed his coat and kissed him harder.
When they separated, Silas looked stunned.
Mara smiled.
“Afraid?”
“Terrified.”
“Good.”
They returned inside.
Nathan was awake.
He looked at them.
“Finally.”
Silas threatened to throw him outside.
By morning, they had a plan.
Amos would escort the rescued children to federal authorities in Denver.
Nathan was too injured to travel far.
Jonas would stay with him.
Silas and Mara would return to Mercy Hollow and find Father Gideon.
Before leaving, Nathan stopped Mara.
“Silas thinks he needs peace.”
“He does.”
“No.”
Nathan smiled faintly.
“He needs someone who reminds him he’s alive.”
Mara looked toward Silas.
“Your brother gives terrible advice.”
“He learned from me.”
Back in Mercy Hollow, they found the church locked.
Father Gideon’s house was empty.
Silas searched the desk.
Mara checked the fireplace.
Fresh ash.
Something had been burned recently.
She found one corner of paper.
A name remained.
BELL.
Her own surname.
“Silas.”
He came over.
Then the church bell rang.
They looked at each other.
No one should have been inside.
Silas opened the sanctuary door.
A rope moved.
Once.
Then stopped.
Mara drew her revolver.
They followed muddy footprints toward the confessional.
Inside, they found Father Gideon.
Alive.
Bound.
Bleeding.
Silas cut him free.
“Who did this?”
Gideon coughed.
“Hollister’s men.”
“Where’s the ledger?”
“Safe.”
“Where?”
Gideon looked at Mara.
“Your sister chose the hiding place.”
Mara stared.
“I’ve never been here.”
“Not this church.”
“Where?”
“The Mercer ranch.”
Silas froze.
Gideon explained.
Clara had visited Mercy Hollow secretly months earlier.
Nathan brought her.
They hid copies of every record somewhere nobody connected to Judge Hollister.
Silas’s ranch.
“Where?”
Gideon shook his head.
“Clara never told me.”
Mara thought.
Her sister loved riddles.
Numbers.
Songs.
Childhood games.
Then she remembered a phrase Clara used in her letters.
Where the giant drinks.
Mara started laughing.
Silas stared.
“What?”
“The well.”
They ran.
Mercer Ranch appeared at sunset.
The well stood untouched.
Silas descended.
Mara controlled the rope.
“Try not to drown me this time.”
“No promises.”
He reached the bottom.
Behind a loose stone, he found a tin box.
“Mara.”
She hauled him up.
Inside the box was the ledger.
The real one.
Names filled every page.
Politicians.
Businessmen.
Doctors.
Agents.
Judges.
Then Mara saw a page marked BELL.
Her father’s name appeared.
Thomas Bell.
Payment received.
She dropped the book.
“No.”
Silas picked it up.
“Mara.”
“My father.”
The man who taught her to shoot.
The man who raised five daughters.
The man she had mourned for eight years.
His name was in the ledger.
Silas examined the entry.
“Wait.”
Mara could barely hear him.
“Look at the notation.”
Beside Thomas Bell’s name was a symbol.
The same symbol marked Nathan.
Infiltrator.
Her father had not worked for them.
He had fought them.
Mara closed her eyes.
Another piece of her life rewritten.
Then horses approached.
Many.
Silas extinguished the lantern.
Too late.
The ranch surrounded.
A voice called from outside.
“Silas Mercer!”
Judge Hollister.
Silas looked at Mara.
She held the ledger.
“Back tunnel?”
“No time.”
“What then?”
Silas smiled.
It was the first time Mara had seen him smile like her.
Wild.
Dangerous.
He took the rifle.
“We make them regret coming.”
The front door exploded inward.
Mara raised her gun.
Then a second voice shouted from outside.
A voice Silas knew.
A voice that should have been safely in Denver.
Nathan.
“Brother, don’t shoot!”
Silas hesitated.
Mara looked through the window.
May you like
Nathan stood beside Judge Hollister.
A gun was pressed against Eli’s head.
