Chapter 4 - The Brother Beneath the Grave
Ethan left town before sunrise.
Clara caught him at the livery.
He was tightening the saddle on his black stallion, Bishop.
“You’re not going alone.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Where?”
He didn’t answer.
“You know something.”
“Not enough.”
“Then let me help.”
He turned.
“You’ve done enough.”
The words came out harder than intended.
Clara stopped.
Ethan shut his eyes.
“I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did.”
“No.”
“You think everything happening to your family began because of mine.”
“Your father stole from mine.”
“My father did.”
“Your mother knew.”
“And tried to stop him.”
“Silas knew.”
“I am not Silas.”
He looked at her.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
That silenced him.
Clara approached.
“Lucas was your brother.”
“Is.”
“If the report is true.”
Ethan’s face tightened.
Lucas had been four years younger.
Smaller.
Faster.
Better with horses.
Better with people.
Where Ethan entered a room and people stared, Lucas entered and everyone smiled.
They had loved each other fiercely.
Then, eight years earlier, Lucas rode east after an argument with Samuel.
Three weeks later, his horse came back alone.
A body was eventually found near the river.
Too damaged to identify properly.
Samuel had insisted it was Lucas.
Ethan buried him.
Or believed he had.
Clara said, “Where are you going?”
“Old Cole line cabin.”
“Why?”
“Lucas used it.”
“Eight years ago?”
“Sometimes memories are all you have.”
She stepped toward her horse.
Ethan caught the reins.
“No.”
She looked at his hand.
“Are you ordering me?”
“Yes.”
A faint spark appeared in her eyes.
“That works poorly on me.”
“I noticed.”
She took the reins back.
They rode north together.
The storm had weakened but the cold sharpened.
The old line cabin sat near pine-covered foothills.
Ethan dismounted first.
Tracks.
Fresh.
He raised one hand.
Clara stopped.
“Horse?”
“One.”
“Could be a trap.”
“Yes.”
“You sound pleased.”
“I prefer traps I can see.”
The cabin door stood slightly open.
Ethan entered.
A fire burned low.
Someone had been there minutes earlier.
On the table sat a tin cup.
A knife.
And an old wooden horse.
Ethan froze.
Clara came beside him.
“What is it?”
He picked up the toy.
“I made this for Lucas.”
One leg was shorter than the others.
Lucas had complained for years.
Then refused every time Ethan offered to fix it.
A floorboard creaked outside.
Ethan turned.
A rifle appeared in the doorway.
The man behind it was thin.
Bearded.
Scar running from his left temple to jaw.
But the eyes were unmistakable.
“Hello, Ethan.”
Ethan did not move.
Clara stared between them.
The rifle lowered.
Ethan whispered, “Lucas.”
The brothers stood facing each other.
Eight years collapsed into one impossible moment.
Then Ethan crossed the room.
He grabbed Lucas.
For half a second, Clara feared violence.
Instead Ethan crushed him in an embrace.
Lucas made a strangled sound.
“Still too damn strong.”
Ethan released him.
Then punched him.
Lucas fell over a chair.
Clara gasped.
Ethan pointed.
“That was for being dead.”
Lucas wiped blood from his mouth.
“Fair.”
Ethan pulled him upright.
“What happened?”
Lucas looked at Clara.
“You trust her?”
“Yes.”
The answer came instantly.
Clara noticed.
So did Ethan.
Lucas shut the door.
“Father found evidence Thomas Whitmore had altered the land records.”
“We know.”
“He was going to expose him.”
“We know that too.”
“No.”
Lucas shook his head.
“You know the beginning.”
Ethan’s expression darkened.
Lucas sat.
“Father asked me to ride to Helena with copies. I never made it.”
“Who stopped you?”
“Three men.”
“Mercer?”
“He was there.”
Ethan’s fist tightened.
“And another man I didn’t recognize.”
“What happened?”
“They beat me. Took the papers. Threw me in the river.”
Clara whispered, “The body.”
“Wasn’t me.”
“How did you survive?”
“Trapper found me downstream.”
“Why didn’t you come home?”
Lucas looked at Ethan.
“Because they threatened you.”
Ethan stared.
“What?”
“Silas found me six months later. Told me if I returned, Father and you would both die.”
“Father died anyway.”
Lucas’s eyes lowered.
“I know.”
“You knew?”
“I came back secretly.”
“When?”
“The week before he died.”
Ethan took a step back.
Lucas continued.
“Father was already sick.”
“Pneumonia.”
“Poison.”
Clara covered her mouth.
Ethan’s face became unreadable.
“What poison?”
“Arsenic. Small amounts over time.”
“Who?”
“I never proved it.”
“The report named you.”
“Because Thomas paid someone to put my name there.”
Clara shook her head.
“My father says he didn’t kill Samuel.”
“He didn’t.”
Ethan stared.
“You just said—”
“Thomas hid the murder.”
“Why?”
“Silas owned his debts.”
Clara shut her eyes.
Again.
Always Silas.
Ethan asked, “Why return now?”
Lucas looked toward the window.
“Because Silas is planning to kill Clara.”
Silence.
Ethan shifted immediately closer to her.
“When?”
“Before her birthday.”
“Why?”
“If she dies unmarried, control stays with Thomas.”
Clara frowned.
“But Thomas is under arrest.”
“Control can be transferred through creditors.”
“To Silas.”
Lucas nodded.
Ethan looked at Clara.
“No more town.”
“What?”
“You’re coming to the ranch.”
She almost smiled.
“Was that concern or another order?”
“Both.”
Lucas gave a quiet laugh.
Ethan glared.
It was the first familiar expression Lucas had seen from his brother in eight years.
For one moment they were boys again.
Then Lucas grew serious.
“There’s one more thing.”
Ethan waited.
“The murder evidence exists.”
“Where?”
“Father hid it.”
“You know where?”
“No.”
“But he left a clue.”
Lucas pulled a small brass compass from his coat.
Ethan recognized it.
Samuel’s.
The back had been scratched.
Three letters.
E.C.R.
Ethan frowned.
“Ethan Cole Ranch?”
Lucas shook his head.
“Father never called it that.”
Clara studied the letters.
“What did he call the ranch?”
“Home.”
She turned the compass.
A tiny arrow had been carved beneath the initials.
Ethan suddenly remembered.
“East creek ridge.”
Lucas nodded.
They rode there.
Near sundown, Ethan found a stone marker beneath an old cottonwood.
They dug.
A metal box emerged.
Inside were letters.
Receipts.
A physician’s note.
And a small bottle.
Arsenic.
Ethan stared at it.
Clara found a letter.
The handwriting belonged to Samuel.
If anything happens to me, take this to the territorial judge. Silas Mercer has threatened both my sons.
Ethan closed his eyes.
There was another name underneath.
A witness.
Dr. Nathaniel Cross.
Clara whispered, “That was the doctor who signed Samuel’s death certificate.”
Lucas nodded.
“He vanished.”
Ethan looked at him.
“You know where?”
Lucas hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Before he could answer, a rifle cracked.
The compass flew from Lucas’s hand.
Another shot hit the tree beside Clara.
Ethan threw her down.
“Stay!”
Lucas rolled behind a rock.
Gunfire erupted from the ridge.
Three riders.
Maybe four.
Ethan drew his revolver.
Clara crawled toward the metal box.
“Leave it!”
“They’ll destroy it!”
She grabbed the letters.
Ethan fired once.
A rider fell from his saddle.
Lucas fired twice.
The others retreated.
Too easily.
Ethan realized.
“They’re not here for the box.”
He spun.
A rider had circled behind them.
Straight toward Clara.
The man leaned from the saddle and seized her cloak.
Clara screamed.
Ethan ran.
Too far.
The horse accelerated.
Clara disappeared through the trees.
Ethan mounted Bishop without touching the stirrup.
Lucas shouted after him.
“Ethan!”
Ethan drove the stallion forward.
The trail split at the ridge.
One path went toward town.
One toward the frozen river.
He saw Clara’s torn ivory ribbon lying in the snow.
Beside it was a note pinned beneath a knife.
Ethan ripped it free.
Five words were written across the paper.
COME ALONE OR SHE DIES.
May you like
Then he saw the signature.
And for the first time, Ethan understood that Silas Mercer was not the man giving the orders.
