Chapter 3 - The Man at the Window
Harlan moved before Josephine screamed.
He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her behind the stove as glass sprayed across the bedroom floor.
A gloved hand reached through the broken pane.
Harlan fired once into the ceiling.
The hand vanished.
“Stay here.”
He rushed outside.
Josephine heard boots pounding across the porch.
Then nothing but wind.
She crouched beside the stove, clutching the marriage contract.
Minutes later Harlan returned.
“Gone.”
“Who?”
“Couldn’t see.”
“Did you shoot him?”
“No. Warning shot.”
Josephine looked toward the broken window.
“Why would they break in?”
Harlan looked at the paper in her hands.
“For that.”
They moved the bed against the damaged window and nailed a board across it.
By dawn, the storm weakened.
Harlan announced they were leaving.
“Where?”
“Mercer.”
“That’s where my father lives.”
“That’s where the courthouse is.”
Josephine understood.
“You want to verify the deed.”
“I want to put it somewhere Vale can’t burn it.”
He wrapped the contract in oilcloth and handed it to Josephine.
“You carry it.”
“Why me?”
“Because they’ll expect me to.”
They left shortly after sunrise.
Harlan saddled his horse and another smaller mare for Josephine.
The snow was deep, but the sky had cleared enough to travel.
For hours they rode without speaking.
Josephine’s thoughts circled the same impossible truths.
Her mother had hidden land.
Her father had hidden debt.
Her husband had hidden a promise.
She wondered whether everyone in her life possessed a secret version of themselves.
Around noon they reached the farm where Caleb was staying.
A boy came flying from the barn.
“Uncle Harlan!”
Harlan barely had time to dismount before Caleb threw himself against him.
Something happened to Harlan’s face.
The hard mountain man disappeared.
He lifted the boy with one arm.
“You behave?”
“Mostly.”
“That means no.”
Caleb grinned.
Then he noticed Josephine.
His smile vanished.
He stepped behind Harlan.
Josephine dismounted carefully.
Harlan put the boy down.
“Caleb, this is Josephine.”
Caleb stared.
“Your wife?”
“Yes.”
The boy studied Josephine with solemn brown eyes.
“Are you mean?”
Josephine blinked.
Harlan coughed.
“Caleb.”
“What? Mrs. Garner said some women don’t like boys that aren’t theirs.”
Josephine crouched.
“I don’t know whether I’m mean yet.”
Caleb considered that.
“Uncle Harlan is sometimes.”
“I believe you.”
“He makes me wash.”
“Monster.”
Caleb smiled.
Harlan looked offended.
The moment was so ordinary that Josephine almost forgot the danger.
Almost.
Mrs. Garner came from the house and hugged Harlan.
She was a widow in her fifties who had known him for years.
Her warmth toward Josephine was immediate.
“So you’re Eleanor’s girl.”
Josephine stiffened.
“You knew my mother?”
“Everyone worth knowing did.”
That answer made Josephine’s eyes burn.
They ate quickly.
Harlan told Mrs. Garner only that they needed to reach Mercer before evening.
When he mentioned Vale, her expression darkened.
“You shouldn’t take the north road.”
“Why?”
“Two riders passed an hour ago.”
Harlan looked at Josephine.
“South trail.”
Mrs. Garner nodded.
Caleb protested when Harlan said goodbye.
“When can I come home?”
“Soon.”
“You promised after the wedding.”
“I know.”
Caleb looked at Josephine.
“Do you want me there?”
The question pierced her.
Josephine knelt again.
“I think that cabin needs somebody who can explain why your uncle owns only one clean plate.”
Caleb grinned.
“He broke the others.”
“I did not,” Harlan said.
Caleb whispered, “He did.”
Josephine smiled.
It was the first genuine smile Harlan had seen from her.
His expression softened.
Then he looked away.
They reached Mercer near sunset.
Josephine’s father’s house stood dark.
“No smoke,” she said.
Harlan dismounted.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
“Josephine.”
“It’s my house.”
“Was your house.”
She glared.
“Not helping.”
Together they approached.
The front door stood open.
Inside, drawers had been emptied.
Furniture was overturned.
Josephine rushed upstairs.
Her old room had been searched.
So had her mother’s room.
A portrait of Eleanor lay shattered.
Josephine knelt.
“Why?”
Harlan picked up the frame.
“Someone was looking for something.”
Josephine suddenly remembered.
“My mother’s sewing box.”
They searched.
Gone.
“What was in it?” Harlan asked.
“Thread. Buttons. Letters.”
“What letters?”
“I don’t know. She never let me read them.”
Harlan’s expression told her that mattered.
They went directly to the courthouse.
Clerk Samuel Pike was preparing to leave.
When Josephine gave her name, he locked the door behind them.
“I wondered when you’d come.”
“You know about Parcel 17?”
Pike stared.
“How do you know that number?”
Josephine showed him the hidden contract.
His face changed.
“Dear God.”
“What?”
Pike hurried into the records room.
He returned carrying a ledger.
“Your mother filed a protected deed six years ago.”
“Before she died?”
“Three weeks before.”
“To me?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t I know?”
“She ordered it sealed until one of two conditions occurred.”
“What conditions?”
“Your thirtieth birthday.”
Josephine frowned.
“And the other?”
“Your lawful marriage.”
Harlan and Josephine looked at each other.
Pike opened the ledger.
“The marriage filing yesterday activated the deed.”
“So the land is mine?”
Pike hesitated.
“Legally, yes.”
“What aren’t you saying?”
“There’s a challenge.”
“Vale.”
Pike nodded.
“He claims your father transferred the property as security.”
“My father couldn’t transfer my property.”
“Correct.”
“So Vale loses.”
“Not if he proves your mother’s deed fraudulent.”
Josephine stared.
“How?”
“By proving Eleanor Bell wasn’t legally entitled to Parcel 17.”
Harlan leaned forward.
“Was she?”
Pike lowered his voice.
“There should be an original federal grant.”
“Should?”
“It disappeared.”
Josephine’s heart sank.
“Then how do I prove it?”
Pike looked toward the locked door.
“Your mother left instructions.”
“What instructions?”
“If anyone challenged the deed, I was to give you this.”
He reached beneath the desk.
The drawer was empty.
Pike froze.
“What?”
“I put it here this morning.”
“What was it?”
“A key.”
Harlan’s expression hardened.
“To what?”
Pike swallowed.
“Your mother’s deposit box.”
A floorboard creaked in the records room.
Harlan turned.
Someone was inside.
May you like
The handle began to move.
And Josephine heard her father’s voice from the other side.
