Chapter 3 - The Man Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
"Samuel?"
Martha stared at the gaunt man emerging from the darkness.
He looked ten years older than when she had last seen him.
But it was Samuel Keene.
Alive.
He raised both hands when Elias aimed the rifle.
"Don't shoot."
Ben ran to him.
Samuel pulled the boy close.
Martha couldn't speak.
Four months earlier, Daniel had told her Samuel was gone.
Most of the wagon party believed he had been killed.
Now he stood ten feet away.
"You knew Daniel?" Elias asked.
Samuel nodded.
"Better than she realizes."
Martha flinched.
Samuel saw it.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry. Explain."
Samuel looked at the leather case.
"Daniel kept it."
"He hid it beneath our wagon."
"Because I asked him to."
Martha's anger erupted.
"You put this on us?"
"No."
"Men sabotaged my wagon!"
"I didn't know Coyle had found you."
"You let my husband carry something men kill for."
"Daniel volunteered."
"Daniel had a pregnant wife!"
"He knew."
"Apparently everyone knew things except me."
Samuel lowered his eyes.
That silenced him.
Elias stepped between them.
"We need shelter."
Samuel nodded.
"There's an old line shack two miles north."
"Safe?"
"No place is safe."
"Good enough."
They moved before dawn.
Samuel rode one of Elias's horses with Ben.
Martha sat beside Elias.
She didn't speak.
At the shack, Samuel finally told the story.
Coyle had spent years obtaining land along a proposed freight route.
Settlers who refused to sell were threatened.
Some disappeared.
Claims were forged.
Officials were bribed.
Samuel had worked as a clerk for one of Coyle's agents.
He copied records.
Then he stole the ledger.
"Why?"
"Because a family died."
Samuel stared at his hands.
"The Harpers. Father, mother, two daughters. Their cabin burned after they refused to sell."
Elias went rigid.
"Fire?"
Samuel looked at him.
"Yes."
"Who did it?"
"I don't know."
"Mercer?"
"I saw him nearby."
Elias turned away.
Martha understood why.
Samuel continued.
"I ran. Coyle's men caught me near Scotts Bluff. Daniel saw them."
Martha remembered Daniel returning with the torn shirt.
"He rescued you."
Samuel nodded.
"Daniel hid me."
"Where?"
"With missionaries traveling east. But I couldn't take the ledger. They were searching everyone."
"So Daniel took it."
"He said nobody would search a schoolteacher traveling with his pregnant wife."
Martha laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
"He was wrong."
"He intended to give it to a federal marshal at Fort Laramie."
"Why didn't he?"
Samuel's expression changed.
"Because he died."
Martha looked at him.
"From fever."
Samuel hesitated.
Elias noticed.
"What?"
Samuel didn't answer.
Martha stood.
"What?"
"I heard something after."
"Samuel."
"There was a doctor traveling with Coyle's freight outfit."
Martha's skin went cold.
"Daniel was sick before that doctor treated him."
"Yes."
"Then what are you saying?"
Samuel looked miserable.
"Daniel improved the first day."
Martha remembered.
He had.
For several hours Daniel had sat up.
He had eaten broth.
He had even joked about finishing the cradle.
Then the doctor returned with medicine.
By midnight Daniel was vomiting.
By dawn he could barely speak.
Two days later he was dead.
Martha backed into the wall.
"No."
"I'm not saying the doctor killed him."
"Then why mention it?"
"Because he disappeared immediately afterward."
Elias's voice hardened.
"Name?"
"Dr. Hollis Crane."
Elias knew it.
Of course he did.
Coyle's physician.
Martha pressed both hands to her stomach.
Daniel's death had been the one tragedy she had accepted as natural.
Now even that certainty was gone.
"I buried him."
Her voice broke.
"I buried my husband believing God had taken him."
Samuel stepped forward.
"Martha—"
"Don't."
He stopped.
She went outside.
Elias followed several minutes later.
She sat on a fallen log.
"You don't have to say anything."
"Good."
He sat anyway.
After a long silence, Martha whispered, "What if I killed him?"
Elias looked at her.
"I gave him the medicine."
"You didn't know."
"I held the cup."
"You were trying to save him."
"What if the medicine killed him?"
"Then the man who poisoned it killed him."
Martha wiped her eyes.
"I should have known."
"How?"
"I was his wife."
"That doesn't make you a chemist."
Despite herself, she laughed through tears.
Elias looked almost surprised.
Then his mouth moved slightly.
It might have been a smile.
Martha noticed.
So did he.
He looked away first.
Inside, Ben slept.
Samuel showed Elias a second piece of evidence.
A list of witnesses.
Most names were crossed out.
Elias found one that wasn't.
Clara Bell.
"Who's she?"
"Former housekeeper at Coyle's ranch."
"Where?"
"Fort Laramie."
Martha came back inside.
"Then that's where we go."
Elias shook his head.
"Too dangerous."
"Daniel died trying to get those papers there."
"Which is exactly why Coyle will watch it."
"So we run forever?"
"No."
"Then what?"
Elias had no immediate answer.
Martha looked at Samuel.
"Is there someone at the fort Daniel trusted?"
"Deputy Marshal Nathaniel Briggs."
Elias knew Briggs.
A stubborn old lawman.
Hard to buy.
Harder to scare.
"We get the evidence to Briggs," Martha said.
Elias studied her.
"You can barely travel."
"I've traveled this far."
"That isn't proof you should continue."
"It is proof I will."
Their eyes held.
Elias finally sighed.
"You're difficult."
"So I've been told."
"By Daniel?"
"Daily."
For the first time, saying her husband's name didn't break her.
It hurt.
But she remained standing.
That afternoon, Elias inspected the wagon while Samuel slept.
Martha approached.
"Thank you."
"For?"
"Coming back."
He looked confused.
"At my wagon. You could have kept riding."
"Could have."
"Why didn't you?"
Elias tightened a harness strap.
"Didn't feel like digging another grave."
Martha knew there was more.
She didn't push.
Instead she touched the unfinished cradle tied to the wagon.
"Daniel wanted a girl."
"What do you want?"
"Healthy."
"Smart answer."
"He had a name picked."
Elias waited.
"Rose."
"Good name."
"He said roses can grow even when the soil isn't kind."
Elias looked at Martha.
"Sounds like a schoolteacher."
She smiled.
Then Ben screamed from inside the shack.
They ran.
The boy was pointing through a crack in the wall.
Riders.
Six this time.
Mercer among them.
Samuel grabbed the ledger.
"How?"
Elias looked at the ground.
Then at Samuel's boots.
Mud.
Fresh.
"Did they track you?"
Samuel went pale.
"I thought I lost them."
Elias loaded his rifle.
"Back door. Now."
They fled through a narrow gully.
Shots struck the shack.
Elias returned fire.
Samuel carried Ben.
Martha struggled behind them.
A contraction seized her.
She stopped.
Elias turned.
"Martha!"
"I can't."
He ran back.
Another bullet struck rock.
Elias lifted her.
"Not again," she gasped.
"Complain later."
They reached the wagon hidden beyond the gully.
Samuel climbed aboard.
Ben followed.
Elias set Martha down.
Then Samuel suddenly grabbed his shoulder.
Blood spread across his shirt.
He had been shot.
"Samuel!"
"I'm fine."
Elias looked.
"You are absolutely not fine."
The bullet had passed through.
They needed medical help.
Martha thought of the name.
Dr. Crane.
No.
Anyone but him.
They drove north.
By sunset Samuel was feverish.
Ben sat beside him crying.
Then a structure appeared ahead.
A small trading post.
Smoke rose from its chimney.
Elias slowed.
"Could be friendly."
"Could be Coyle's," Martha said.
"Exactly."
A woman stepped outside.
She saw the wagon.
Then she saw Samuel.
Her face changed.
"Bring him inside!"
They carried Samuel in.
The woman introduced herself as Abigail Reed.
She cleaned the wound.
Martha helped.
Hours later Samuel's fever eased.
Abigail washed her hands.
"He'll live."
Everyone exhaled.
Then Abigail noticed Martha.
More precisely, she noticed Martha's face.
"What's your name?"
"Martha Whitcomb."
The basin slipped from Abigail's hands.
Water crashed across the floor.
Elias reached instinctively for his gun.
Abigail stared at Martha as though she had seen a ghost.
"Whitcomb?"
"Yes."
"Daniel Whitcomb's widow?"
Martha stood slowly.
"You knew Daniel?"
Abigail's lips parted.
"I knew the man who came looking for him."
Silence filled the room.
"What man?"
Abigail looked toward the window.
Too late.
A horse had stopped outside.
Someone dismounted.
May you like
Heavy boots crossed the porch.
Then the door handle began to turn.
