Chapter 4 - The Man Silas Buried in His Memory
An old man stepped into the lantern light.
Silas did not lower his gun.
Jeremiah Mercer looked nothing like the monster Martha had imagined.
He looked tired.
Thin.
Gray-haired.
A scar ran from his left temple to his jaw.
His coat was patched at both elbows.
Silas's expression was colder than the mountain air.
"You've got five seconds."
Jeremiah looked at the gun.
"You always did count too fast."
"Four."
"Silas."
"Three."
"I didn't kill Anna."
Silas stopped counting.
Martha watched his face.
Anna.
His first wife.
Jeremiah slowly descended the stairs.
"I came because Cole took the women."
"You've been alive eleven years."
"Yes."
"You let me bury you in my mind."
"I had reasons."
Silas stepped forward.
"Give me one."
Jeremiah looked toward Martha.
"Thomas Bell."
Martha's pulse quickened.
"You knew my father."
"I owed him my life."
"Then why is he dead?"
Jeremiah closed his eyes briefly.
"Because I wasn't fast enough."
Silas grabbed him by the coat.
"Stop speaking in riddles."
Jeremiah did not resist.
"Cole poisoned Anna."
Silas froze.
"He meant to poison you."
The room seemed to disappear around them.
Jeremiah continued.
"Your wife drank first."
Silas released him.
"No."
"I found the vial in Cole's room."
"Why would Cole want me dead eleven years ago?"
"Because you had inherited something without knowing it."
Silas laughed once.
Bitter.
"I inherited debts."
"You inherited half of Bell's Crossing."
Martha stared.
"What?"
Jeremiah reached slowly into his coat.
Silas raised the gun.
Jeremiah stopped.
"Paper."
"Slow."
He removed a folded map.
Martha took it.
Two claims were outlined.
One marked BELL.
One marked MERCER.
Jeremiah pointed.
"Thomas Bell and I discovered the pass together."
"Silver?" Martha asked.
"No."
"Then what?"
"Railroad access."
Silas looked at him.
"This was before rail lines came anywhere near here."
"Exactly. Thomas understood geography. He said one day someone would need the only low pass through these mountains."
Martha looked at the map.
"And Cole discovered it."
"Years later."
"Why not sell?"
"Thomas would have. For a fair price."
Jeremiah's expression darkened.
"Cole didn't want fair."
Silas asked, "And Anna?"
"Cole needed both family claims."
"She wasn't family."
"She was your wife. If you died, she inherited your share."
Silas went silent.
Jeremiah looked at him.
"Cole approached her after you fell sick."
"I was never sick."
"You were meant to be."
Silas understood.
Jeremiah continued.
"Anna refused to sign anything. Cole poisoned the spring bucket that night."
Silas's hand shook.
Just once.
Then stopped.
"You knew."
"I figured it out too late."
"And ran."
"To keep you alive."
Silas laughed harshly.
"You expect gratitude?"
"No."
"You let me think my wife died because I couldn't get a doctor there fast enough."
Jeremiah's eyes filled.
"I know."
"You let me blame myself."
"I know."
Silas stepped closer.
"You don't know."
Martha touched his arm.
He looked at her.
She said nothing.
He lowered the gun.
Not because he forgave his father.
Because there were ten missing women.
"Bell's Crossing," Martha said.
Jeremiah nodded.
"Cole has an old camp there."
"Why take the brides?"
"Leverage."
"Against me?"
"Against both of you."
Silas frowned.
Jeremiah pointed to the map.
"Neither claim can be transferred unless both owners sign."
Martha looked from him to Silas.
"So we're tied together."
"Legally, your land is."
Silas's expression changed.
"And Cole knew I was coming for a bride."
"Yes."
Martha suddenly understood the scratched number.
"He arranged for me to be one of the ten."
Jeremiah nodded.
"Pike's agency was compromised months ago."
"So this entire thing—"
"Not the other women. They were real applicants."
"But me?"
"Cole's men found your application."
Martha felt violated in a way she could not explain.
Every choice she had made.
Leaving home.
Crossing states.
Standing in that humiliating line.
Cole had turned all of it into a trap.
Silas asked Jeremiah, "Why didn't you warn us?"
"I tried."
"The letter?"
Jeremiah nodded.
"Thomas wrote it years ago. He gave it to me."
"Why name me?"
Martha asked.
Jeremiah looked at Silas.
"Because Thomas trusted the man Silas might become."
Silas scoffed.
"He barely knew me."
"He met you once."
"When?"
"You were sixteen. You pulled him from a flooded creek."
Silas frowned.
Memory returned slowly.
"Old man with a broken wagon."
"That was Thomas."
Martha stared at Silas.
Her father had told that story.
Not often.
But she remembered.
A boy with no shoes had waded chest-deep into freezing water and saved him.
Her father had called the boy the meanest-looking angel God ever sent.
Martha nearly smiled.
Silas did not.
"How do we reach Bell's Crossing?"
Jeremiah pointed to the northern trail.
"Two hours if we ride hard."
"Defenses?"
"Six men last I knew."
"Ten brides."
"And Ben," Martha said.
Silas nodded.
"We need help."
Pike groaned behind the bar.
Everyone had nearly forgotten him.
Jeremiah knelt.
"Pike."
Pike stared at him.
"You."
"Where's the sheriff?"
"Paid."
"Deputy?"
"Not."
Silas looked at Martha.
"Wake the deputy."
"You're coming?"
"No. Jeremiah and I ride now."
Martha's expression hardened.
"I'm going."
"Martha."
"Those women were taken because of my contract."
"That isn't your fault."
"Doesn't matter."
"It matters if you get shot."
"It matters if Abigail does."
Silas stared at her.
Jeremiah unexpectedly smiled.
Silas turned on him.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You smiled."
"Your mother used to make that same face before ignoring every sensible thing I said."
Silas looked murderous.
Martha took the map.
"Deputy first. Then Bell's Crossing."
They moved.
Deputy Harrison lived behind the livery.
He was young, perhaps twenty-seven, but he listened without interruption.
When Silas finished, Harrison strapped on his gun belt.
"I have two men I trust."
"Bring them."
Within twenty minutes, six riders left town.
Silas.
Martha.
Jeremiah.
Deputy Harrison.
Two ranch hands.
They rode hard beneath a moonless sky.
The entrance to Bell's Crossing was hidden behind a narrow cleft in the rocks.
Jeremiah led them through.
Beyond it stood several abandoned cabins around a deep ravine.
A lantern burned inside the largest.
Silas dismounted.
"Nobody shoots unless necessary."
Martha whispered, "You always this optimistic?"
"Tonight I'm trying something new."
They separated.
Harrison and the ranch hands circled east.
Jeremiah moved toward the rear.
Silas and Martha approached the main building.
A muffled cry came from inside.
Martha recognized Abigail.
Silas kicked open the door.
Two armed men turned.
Silas struck the first before he could draw.
Martha grabbed a wooden chair and swung it into the second man's knees.
He crashed down.
Silas looked at her.
"What?"
"You told me not to shoot."
He almost smiled.
The brides were tied along the far wall.
Ben was with them.
Martha ran to Abigail.
"We're getting you out."
Then someone applauded slowly behind them.
Ezra Cole stood in the doorway.
A pistol rested against Jeremiah's temple.
Silas raised his gun.
Cole smiled.
"Drop it."
Silas did not move.
Cole cocked the pistol.
Martha whispered, "Silas."
His gun hit the floor.
Cole looked pleased.
"Much better."
He tossed two documents onto a table.
"One signature from Martha Bell."
Then another.
"One from Silas Mercer."
Martha stood.
"And if we refuse?"
Cole smiled.
"Then I begin with the blonde."
Abigail whimpered.
Martha's face became stone.
Silas looked at her.
Don't.
She understood without words.
Cole pushed a pen toward her.
"Sign."
Martha took it.
Then she noticed something beneath the document.
A tiny carved mark in the table.
TB.
Her father's initials.
Beside them was an arrow.
Pointing downward.
Martha slowly lowered the pen.
Under the table, her fingers found a metal latch.
May you like
Something clicked beneath her hand.
And the entire floor began to move.
