Chapter 6 - The Widow's Last Gamble
Margaret stared at the frozen certificate.
Nathan expected disappointment.
Instead she laughed.
Caleb looked worried.
"Mrs. Hayes?"
She kept laughing.
Nathan touched her shoulder.
"Margaret."
She looked up.
"Robert always did have terrible timing."
Nathan almost smiled.
Almost.
Then he saw another line on the certificate.
First Territorial Bank of Junction.
He knew the manager.
Harold Pierce.
He also knew Harold feared Charles Barlow more than God.
Nathan folded the paper.
"We'll get the money another way."
"How?"
"I'll sell horses."
"Before noon?"
"I'll find someone."
Margaret took the certificate back.
"No."
"No?"
"Robert earned this somehow."
"Maybe illegally."
"Then we'll find out."
"Margaret—"
"I buried him believing he left me debts."
Her voice cracked for the first time.
"I lost my farm because men came holding papers with his name on them. I sold my furniture. My hens. My mother's silver. I slept with a chair beneath the doorknob because strangers asked about things Robert never told me."
Nathan said nothing.
Margaret's eyes shone.
"If he left one honest dollar, I want to know."
Nathan understood.
They rode to Junction together.
Eli took the meat wagons north.
Caleb rode ahead to delay the bank manager if possible.
Daniel accompanied Nathan and Margaret, carrying copies of Barlow's records.
The town already knew something was happening.
News traveled faster than horses when scandal was involved.
At the bank, Harold Pierce stood behind the counter.
His face fell when he saw Nathan.
"Mr. Brooks."
"Harold."
"You know why I'm here."
Pierce looked at Margaret.
Then Daniel.
"I cannot discuss—"
Nathan slapped Charles Barlow's records onto the counter.
"Discuss those."
Pierce did not touch them.
"I don't know what they are."
Daniel said, "You do."
Pierce paled.
Nathan leaned closer.
"My loan was called early."
"Within contractual rights."
"By whose instruction?"
"No one's."
Margaret placed Robert's certificate down.
"And this?"
Pierce looked at it.
His face changed further.
"Where did you get that?"
"My husband left it."
"That account is frozen."
"Why?"
"Legal dispute."
"With whom?"
Pierce swallowed.
"Mr. Barlow."
Margaret nodded.
"Then release five dollars."
Pierce blinked.
"What?"
"Five."
Nathan stared at her.
She continued.
"Apparently that's all I need to ruin his morning."
Pierce glanced at the clock.
"You don't understand."
"I understand perfectly."
The bank door opened.
Charles Barlow entered.
Two deputies flanked him.
Free already.
Nathan's fists clenched.
Charles smiled.
"I told you."
The sheriff entered behind him.
A heavy man named Wallace Crane.
Nathan had known him ten years.
Never liked him.
Crane said, "Nathan, we're going to need you to surrender your weapon."
"For what?"
"Assault."
Charles touched the bruise on his face.
Nathan laughed once.
"You burned my barn."
"Prove it."
"You stole my cattle."
"Prove it."
Daniel pushed the documents toward Sheriff Crane.
"Here."
Crane did not even look.
"Forgery."
Daniel's eyes narrowed.
"You haven't read them."
"Don't need to."
The room went silent.
Margaret looked at Nathan.
Nathan looked at Daniel.
Charles had made his mistake.
Too openly.
Too arrogantly.
People in the bank heard it.
So did three farmers waiting near the door.
Margaret calmly picked up the certificate.
"Mr. Pierce, are you refusing to honor this because Mr. Barlow told you to?"
Pierce began sweating.
Charles said, "Careful, Harold."
Margaret turned slightly.
"Thank you."
Charles frowned.
"For what?"
"For answering."
He realized too late.
A man near the door cleared his throat.
"Sounds like Mr. Barlow controls the bank."
Another farmer said, "Sounds like he controls the sheriff too."
Crane snapped, "Stay out of this."
The first farmer smiled.
"Think I just stepped in."
Nathan recognized him.
Isaac Bell.
His ranch had been foreclosed the previous year.
Another man moved beside him.
Then another.
Daniel spread the documents across the counter.
"These records show Barlow manipulated loans and cattle sales across the county."
Isaac stepped closer.
His face hardened when he saw his ranch name.
"That's my place."
Charles said, "Fake."
Isaac picked up another.
"That's my signature."
A woman entered the bank.
Then two men behind her.
Word was spreading.
Charles looked toward the door.
For the first time, he seemed uncertain.
Nathan said, "You built everything by keeping men isolated."
Charles's jaw tightened.
Nathan continued.
"Harder when they're all in one room."
Sheriff Crane reached for Nathan.
Daniel stepped between them.
"Touch him."
Crane stopped.
Daniel smiled.
"Please."
Crane reconsidered.
The bank manager finally picked up Robert's certificate.
He studied the account number.
Then disappeared into the back.
Charles said, "Harold."
No answer.
"Harold!"
Pierce returned holding a ledger.
His hands shook.
"The account was never legally frozen."
Margaret inhaled.
Charles went white.
Pierce continued.
"Mr. Barlow instructed me."
The room erupted.
Crane moved toward the door.
Isaac blocked him.
"Going somewhere, Sheriff?"
Nathan said, "Margaret."
She looked at him.
He smiled.
"We've got our five dollars."
Pierce released the full certificate.
Margaret received five hundred dollars.
She used five.
Nathan paid the bank exactly twelve hundred.
At eleven forty-seven in the morning, Brooks Ranch was clear of immediate seizure.
But Charles Barlow was not finished.
He fled town before territorial marshals could be contacted.
Sheriff Crane disappeared with him.
Nathan expected them to ride south.
Daniel disagreed.
"They'll go to the ranch."
"Why?"
"The original ledger."
Margaret touched the small key.
They still had not discovered what it opened.
Daniel said, "Barlow believes it's there."
Nathan's chest tightened.
Caleb and Old Tom remained at Brooks Ranch.
So did injured Jesse.
They rode hard.
Smoke appeared on the horizon.
Nathan's heart stopped.
"Not again."
But it was not the ranch house.
The old smokehouse burned.
Caleb met them at the gate.
"Barlow came!"
"Where?"
"House."
Nathan jumped from the saddle.
"Tom?"
"Alive."
"Jesse?"
"Safe."
"Barlow?"
Caleb pointed.
"Inside."
Nathan drew his gun.
Margaret reached the porch behind him.
The front door stood open.
Inside, furniture had been overturned.
Drawers emptied.
Daniel found blood near the office.
Not much.
Nathan moved room to room.
No Charles.
No sheriff.
Then Margaret noticed something.
Her small key.
She had placed it inside her dress pocket.
Now the pocket was empty.
Her face changed.
"He took it."
Nathan swore.
"How?"
Margaret remembered the bank.
Crowd pressing around them.
Someone brushing past.
Charles?
No.
He had been across the room.
Sheriff Crane.
He had bumped her shoulder while leaving.
Daniel said, "What does the key open?"
Nathan looked around his father's office.
Then at the old desk.
A thought struck him.
"The ranch wasn't always this house."
He ran outside.
Beyond the windmill stood the remains of the original Brooks homestead.
Mostly foundation stones.
One root cellar remained.
Nathan had not opened it since childhood.
They ran there.
The iron door stood open.
Nathan's stomach dropped.
They descended.
Charles Barlow stood below holding a lantern.
Sheriff Crane stood beside him.
Between them sat an old iron strongbox.
The key was in its lock.
Charles smiled.
"Finally."
Nathan raised his weapon.
Charles opened the box.
Inside lay William Brooks's original account ledger.
Everything Charles had spent eleven years trying to find.
He grabbed it.
Daniel whispered, "That's enough to destroy him."
Charles held the ledger above the lantern flame.
Nathan shouted, "Don't!"
Charles smiled.
Then he lowered the book toward the fire.
Margaret stepped forward.
"Robert made a copy."
Charles stopped.
Everyone looked at her.
Nathan knew she was lying.
Charles did not.
"Where?"
Margaret smiled faintly.
"You'll never know."
Charles's face twisted.
He threw the lantern.
Darkness exploded.
Gunfire cracked.
Nathan heard Margaret scream.
Then a body hit the floor beside him.
He reached through the dark.
His hand found hers.
Wet.
Warm.
May you like
Blood covered his fingers.
And Margaret was no longer answering him.
