Chapter 4 - The Grave Behind the Cottonwoods
Jacob raised his rifle.
The barn door remained closed.
Another knock came from inside.
Samuel appeared behind Hannah.
“Take the children inside,” Jacob ordered.
Hannah didn't move.
“You've told me to stay behind long enough.”
“Hannah—”
“If this concerns my father, I'm coming.”
Jacob studied her, then nodded.
He opened the barn.
A man lay bound behind the feed bins.
It was Cyrus's hired rider.
His face was bruised.
A note had been pinned to his coat.
HE KNOWS WHERE BELL IS BURIED.
Margaret read it twice.
“Thomas.”
The man groaned.
Jacob cut his ropes.
“Who did this?”
“I don't know.”
“Who hired you?”
“Cyrus.”
“For what?”
“To bring the girl back.”
Hannah stepped closer.
“Why?”
The man looked at her.
“Because you're worth more than Mercer paid.”
“How much?”
“Land.”
“What land?”
“Half the valley.”
Jacob's expression darkened.
“Who attacked you?”
“I never saw him.”
“Where is Cyrus?”
The rider laughed weakly.
“Gone.”
“Where?”
“Looking for the grave.”
Margaret grabbed his shirt.
“What grave?”
“Bell's.”
Thomas Bell had supposedly been buried outside Miles City.
But Elizabeth shook her head.
“No.”
Everyone turned.
“Thomas wasn't buried there.”
Margaret stared at her.
“I attended the funeral.”
“You buried an empty coffin.”
Margaret released the rider.
“What?”
Elizabeth looked ashamed.
“Thomas asked me to keep it secret.”
“From his wife?”
“From everyone.”
“Where is he?”
Elizabeth looked toward the cottonwoods.
Mary's grave.
They walked there before sunrise.
Jacob brought a shovel.
Behind Mary's headstone stood an older marker almost swallowed by weeds.
No name.
Jacob began digging.
Two feet down, the shovel struck wood.
Margaret covered her mouth.
They opened the small box.
There was no body.
Only documents.
Thomas Bell had buried evidence.
Names.
Contracts.
Statements.
And a ledger.
Hannah turned pages.
Girls.
Widows.
Orphans.
Land transfers.
Cyrus Reed's name appeared repeatedly.
Then Hannah found her own.
HANNAH VALE REED.
Beside it:
HEIR — NORTH VALLEY HOLDINGS.
And below that:
DO NOT ALLOW C.R. GUARDIANSHIP BEYOND 18TH YEAR.
Hannah's eighteenth birthday had been nine days earlier.
Cyrus hadn't sold her because he wanted fifty dollars.
He'd sold her because he needed her under another man's legal control before she discovered she could control the land herself.
Jacob read the entry.
“He expected me to marry you.”
Hannah looked at him.
“Then he'd challenge the transfer.”
Margaret nodded. “Or force Jacob into signing.”
Jacob's face hardened.
“That won't happen.”
Hannah closed the ledger.
“You can't decide that.”
He looked at her.
“No. You can.”
The difference mattered.
By noon they returned to the house.
The hired rider was gone.
So was one horse.
On the kitchen table lay another note.
CYRUS KNOWS ABOUT THE LEDGER.
Jacob cursed.
They needed a judge.
Miles City was nearly a day's journey in winter conditions.
Elizabeth was too weak.
Margaret volunteered to remain with her.
Jacob would take Hannah.
Samuel protested.
“You'll leave us?”
“For one night.”
“What if they come?”
Margaret lifted a shotgun.
“They'll regret it.”
They departed before dawn the next morning.
Hannah sat beside Jacob.
Hours passed.
Finally she asked, “If I own that land, what happens to your ranch?”
“Depends where the boundary lies.”
“You could lose it.”
“Yes.”
“And you're still helping me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“You keep asking that.”
“Because you keep giving incomplete answers.”
Jacob looked toward the road.
“Mary asked me to protect you.”
“Mary's dead.”
His expression tightened.
“So?”
“So dead people don't know whether promises are kept.”
“I do.”
Hannah studied him.
For the first time, she understood something important about Jacob Mercer.
His grief wasn't weakness.
It was architecture.
He had built his entire life around things he refused to betray.
They reached Miles City after dark.
Thomas Bell's old law office had been closed for years.
Margaret had given them a key.
Inside, dust covered everything.
Jacob lit a lamp.
Hannah searched cabinets.
Nothing.
Then she noticed scratches beneath the desk.
A loose board.
She pried it up.
A metal box lay beneath.
Inside was a sealed envelope.
HANNAH.
She opened it.
The letter was from Thomas.
If you're reading this, Cyrus has failed to keep the truth buried.
Your father was not Daniel Vale.
Daniel Vale was the name he used after—
The sentence ended.
The second page was missing.
Hannah searched the box.
Nothing.
Jacob found a photograph.
On the back:
Daniel Vale and Cyrus Reed, Virginia City, 1865.
Hannah stared at the two young men.
Her father and uncle had known each other.
Then Jacob noticed something.
“Look.”
Daniel wore a ring.
A distinctive black stone.
Hannah had seen that ring.
Recently.
“Where?” Jacob asked.
She struggled to remember.
Then she did.
The stranger who had accompanied Cyrus.
The man with the rifle.
“He was wearing it.”
Jacob's face changed.
“That man was too young to be Daniel.”
“Then whose ring was it?”
A floorboard creaked overhead.
Both looked up.
The office had no second floor.
Another creak came.
Jacob lifted the lamp.
There was an attic hatch.
A thin line of light appeared around its edge.
Someone was above them.
Then a voice said quietly:
May you like
“Hannah, if you want to know what happened to your father, send Mercer outside.”
The attic hatch began to open...
