Chapter 5 - What Thomas Bell Hid
The table dropped first.
Cole stumbled.
Martha threw herself sideways as a section of wooden flooring tilted beneath them.
Silas moved instantly.
He tackled Cole.
The pistol fired into the ceiling.
Jeremiah fell clear.
The hidden floor panel collapsed downward, revealing a narrow chamber beneath the building.
Martha stared.
Her father had built this.
Cole slammed his elbow into Silas's face.
Silas answered with one punch that sent the older man into the wall.
Deputy Harrison burst through the side door.
"Nobody move!"
The two remaining gunmen surrendered.
Within minutes the brides were freed.
Abigail hugged Martha so hard Martha nearly lost her balance.
"I thought we'd die."
"So did I."
"You don't look frightened."
"I've discovered looking frightened rarely improves a situation."
Abigail laughed through tears.
Silas approached.
Blood marked his lower lip.
Martha touched it before thinking.
"You've been hit."
"So have you."
She looked down.
Her sleeve had torn again.
"That doesn't count."
His eyes stayed on her hand near his face.
For a moment the chaos disappeared.
Then Jeremiah cleared his throat.
Martha dropped her hand.
"We should see what's beneath the floor."
Silas nodded.
Lanterns were lowered first.
Stone steps descended underground.
Cole, now handcuffed, laughed from the wall.
"You think you've won?"
Silas ignored him.
Cole looked at Martha.
"Your father died for what's down there."
She turned.
"And you'll live long enough to stand trial for it."
His smile faltered.
They descended.
The chamber was small.
Dry.
A metal box rested on a stone shelf.
Martha stopped.
She recognized it.
Her father had kept family documents in a box just like it when she was a child.
She remembered sitting beside him while he counted receipts.
She remembered asking why grown people needed so much paper.
Because paper remembers promises when people conveniently forget them, he had said.
Her throat tightened.
Silas stood beside her.
"You want me to open it?"
"No."
She turned the key Pike had given her.
The lock clicked.
Inside were deeds.
Maps.
Letters.
A journal.
Martha lifted the top document.
Thomas Bell and Jeremiah Mercer were listed as equal owners of Bell's Crossing.
Below that were inheritance clauses.
Thomas's share passed to Martha.
Jeremiah's passed to Silas.
Everything Pike had said was true.
But beneath the deed was something worse.
A ledger.
Payments.
Sheriff.
Land clerk.
Rail surveyor.
Transportation agents.
And Ezra Cole.
Years of bribes.
Silas read silently.
"This is enough."
"For what?"
"To put Cole away."
Jeremiah shook his head.
"Maybe."
Martha looked at him.
"Maybe?"
"Powerful men buy juries too."
Deputy Harrison, standing on the stairs, said, "Not federal ones."
Everyone turned.
Harrison took the ledger.
"Rail fraud. Mail fraud. Attempted kidnapping across state lines."
Cole's face changed upstairs.
The deputy smiled without humor.
"That's federal territory."
For the first time, Martha believed Ezra Cole was afraid.
They returned to town before dawn.
The brides were exhausted.
No one spoke much.
Pike survived his wound.
By morning he had given Harrison every name he knew in exchange for the possibility of leniency.
The corrupt sheriff tried to flee.
He made it twelve miles.
Jeremiah caught him.
Silas said nothing about his father afterward.
But Martha noticed he no longer looked at Jeremiah with only hatred.
There was still anger.
Years of it.
But something else had entered.
Possibility.
Three days later, a federal marshal arrived.
Cole was transported under guard.
Pike went with him.
The nine other brides faced another decision.
Return east.
Stay.
Meet the men who had originally answered their advertisements.
Silas's money meant nobody was trapped.
That mattered.
Abigail chose to return to Missouri.
Caroline stayed to meet a schoolteacher named Henry Wallace.
Two others decided to work in town until they knew what they wanted.
Martha approved of all of them.
Then came her own decision.
Her marriage contract remained unsigned.
She sat at a saloon table with it in front of her.
Silas stood across the room pretending not to watch.
Finally Martha said, "You're terrible at pretending."
"At what?"
"Not watching me."
"I wasn't."
"Now you're terrible at lying too."
He approached.
"You don't owe me anything."
"I know."
"The land doesn't require marriage."
"I know."
"You can sell your half."
"I know."
"You can return east."
Martha looked at him.
"Do you want me to?"
Silas paused.
"No."
The answer came without hesitation.
Her heart moved strangely.
"Why?"
He looked almost annoyed by the question.
"Because I like you."
Martha blinked.
"That's your proposal?"
"No."
"Good. It was awful."
Silas sat opposite her.
"I'm not practiced."
"So I've gathered."
He leaned forward.
"I chose you because I thought you could survive my life."
Martha's expression cooled slightly.
He continued.
"That was wrong."
She waited.
"I should've wondered whether my life was worth asking you to share."
Her anger disappeared.
Silas looked at the contract.
"I have a ranch that needs work every day. A seven-year-old boy who asks forty questions before breakfast. A father I haven't forgiven. A reputation that's mostly nonsense and partly deserved."
Martha's lips twitched.
"Anything else?"
"I snore."
"Tragic."
"I don't dance."
"Deal breaker."
He almost smiled.
Then became serious.
"I won't ask you because I need someone to work."
Martha said nothing.
"I won't ask because Samuel needs a woman."
Her breathing slowed.
"I'll ask because when you walk into a room, I notice whether you're there."
Martha stared at him.
Silas continued.
"And when you're gone, I notice that too."
The saloon had become very quiet.
Several women were pretending not to listen.
Martha glanced toward them.
"Everyone is staring."
"Let them."
She looked back.
"You still haven't asked."
Silas took the contract.
Then tore it in half.
Martha's eyes widened.
He dropped the pieces onto the table.
"I don't want an agency contract."
He reached into his coat.
A simple silver ring lay in his palm.
"I want your choice."
Martha could not speak for several seconds.
All her life she had been told she should be grateful for whatever affection came her way.
That a woman her size should not expect romance.
That usefulness was the best she could offer.
Silas Mercer sat before her looking more nervous than he had while facing armed men.
And he waited.
No pressure.
No bargain.
Her choice.
Martha whispered, "Ask properly."
He stood.
Walked around the table.
Then knelt.
Several women gasped.
"Martha Bell."
"Yes?"
"Will you marry me?"
She made him wait.
Three seconds.
Four.
Silas's confidence finally cracked.
Martha smiled.
"Yes."
The room erupted.
Silas stood.
Martha grabbed his coat and kissed him.
The cheering became louder.
For the first time since arriving in Colorado, she did not care who was looking.
Later that afternoon, Silas took her to meet Samuel.
The boy lived temporarily with a neighboring ranch family while Silas traveled.
Samuel was skinny, dark-haired, and suspicious.
He stared at Martha.
Martha stared back.
Finally he asked, "Are you really gonna marry Uncle Silas?"
"Apparently."
"Why?"
Silas closed his eyes.
Martha smiled.
"I haven't completely figured that out."
Samuel nodded thoughtfully.
"He's grumpy."
"I noticed."
"He burns biscuits."
"Concerning."
"He says bad words when cows kick him."
"Understandable."
Silas muttered, "This meeting is going well."
Samuel looked at Martha's arms.
"Are you strong?"
"Fairly."
"Stronger than Uncle Silas?"
Silas opened his mouth.
Martha answered first.
"Obviously."
Samuel smiled.
It was settled.
For two weeks, happiness seemed possible.
Then Deputy Harrison arrived at Silas's ranch one evening.
He carried a telegram.
Silas opened it.
His expression changed.
Martha took the paper.
Ezra Cole had never reached federal custody.
The prison wagon had been found overturned.
Two guards were dead.
Cole was gone.
And across the bottom of the telegram, someone had added a handwritten message.
Martha read it.
May you like
THE DEED ISN'T OVER.
Then a rifle shot shattered the window behind her.
