Chapter 6 - Clara's Last Secret
Clara held the brass key between trembling fingers and said, "I should have told you sooner."
Harlan took the key and found a tiny letter stamped into its head.
C.
Rusk laughed behind them.
The same letter marked his private bank box.
Clara had been carrying the key since the day Harlan found her.
Harlan stared at her.
"Where did you get this?"
"From Rusk."
Rusk's smile widened.
Clara corrected herself.
"I stole it."
That sounded more like the woman Harlan had come to know.
"When?"
"The night I escaped."
Rusk said, "While pretending she couldn't stand."
Clara looked at him.
"I was injured, not useless."
Even Elias smiled.
Harlan kept his revolver pointed at Rusk.
"What does it open?"
Clara answered.
"Deposit box."
"Where?"
"Silver Creek Bank."
Rusk's expression changed.
Only slightly.
Enough.
Harlan saw it.
"What's inside?"
"The second ledger," Clara said.
"And?"
"Letters."
Rusk stopped smiling.
Clara continued.
"Railroad contracts. Payment records. Copies of forged deeds."
Elias exhaled.
"Everything."
"Enough to prove he didn't just target Harlan," Clara said. "He stole properties from dozens of families."
Rusk's face hardened.
"You think they'll believe you?"
A voice came from the stairs.
"They won't have to."
Nathan Cole descended.
Behind him came two men wearing railroad investigator badges.
And a United States deputy marshal.
Harlan finally lowered his weapon.
Cole smiled.
"Board came early."
Rusk moved suddenly.
His hand disappeared inside his jacket.
Harlan saw it.
So did Clara.
"Gun!"
Rusk fired.
The shot exploded through the basement.
Harlan turned toward Clara.
She remained standing.
Then Elias collapsed.
"Father!"
Harlan caught him.
Blood spread across Elias's side.
The deputy marshal tackled Rusk.
Silas appeared behind them.
For several seconds the basement became noise.
Then silence.
Elias looked up at Harlan.
"Not dead yet."
Harlan pressed cloth to the wound.
"You have a habit of disappointing graves."
Elias laughed weakly.
"Runs in the family."
They carried him upstairs.
A doctor arrived.
The bullet had passed through.
Serious.
But survivable.
For once, the Mercers seemed to have been granted mercy.
At dawn, Clara accompanied Harlan, Cole, and the marshal to the bank.
The manager initially refused.
Then Clara placed the key on his desk.
His face changed.
"Where did you get that?"
"Caleb Rusk."
The marshal produced authority to seize evidence related to suspected fraud.
The manager opened the vault.
Box C-17.
Clara inserted the key.
Inside lay another ledger.
Bundles of letters.
Deeds.
Railroad maps.
And one sealed envelope.
HARLAN MERCER.
Harlan opened it.
The letter had been written by Silas two months earlier.
Brother,
If this reaches you, then I finally found enough courage to tell you what I should have said in May.
Rusk used me because I let shame make me weak.
He told me he only wanted your land.
Then Clara arrived.
I watched her refuse him even when she believed you were dead.
She has more courage than every man in his hotel.
If I can get her out, I will.
If I don't survive it, don't remember me as the man wearing your coat.
Remember me as the fool who finally tried to take it off.
Silas.
Harlan read it twice.
Clara stood quietly beside him.
"He tried to help me near the end," she said.
"You knew?"
"I suspected."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I couldn't be sure."
Harlan folded the letter.
There had been too many secrets.
Too many people deciding what someone else needed to know.
He did not want his future built that way.
"No more secrets," he said.
Clara nodded.
"No more."
The evidence destroyed Rusk's defenses.
Sheriff Danner was arrested.
The land clerk confessed before noon.
Pike surrendered voluntarily and gave testimony.
Several families learned properties they'd lost through "debt defaults" had been taken using forged documents.
The federal examiner froze all disputed transfers.
Rusk's fortune could not buy his way out quickly enough.
By evening, Silver Creek looked different.
Not cleaner.
Not safer.
But awake.
Harlan returned to the Grant Hotel where Silas sat on the steps.
"You look terrible," Harlan said.
Silas glanced up.
"You always knew how to make a man feel welcome."
Harlan sat beside him.
For a while neither spoke.
Then Silas said, "I don't expect forgiveness."
"Good."
Silas nodded.
"I don't know if I can give it."
"I know."
"But you can start earning it."
Silas looked at him.
"How?"
"Stay."
"Here?"
"No."
Harlan stared toward the mountains.
"Come back to the claim."
Silas's face changed.
"I don't deserve—"
"This isn't about deserve."
"What is it?"
"Work."
Silas laughed.
"Now I know you're punishing me."
Harlan smiled faintly.
Clara came outside.
She wore a borrowed blue dress from the hotel keeper's wife.
Her bruises remained.
But there was color in her face.
She sat beside Harlan.
Silas immediately stood.
"I suddenly remembered somewhere else to be."
Clara raised an eyebrow.
"Coward."
"Absolutely."
He left.
Harlan watched him go.
Then Clara said, "You never asked."
"Asked what?"
"Whether I meant it."
He looked at her.
"Marriage?"
She nodded.
"I said ask me after we survived."
"Are we done surviving?"
"Probably not."
"Then I should wait."
She smiled.
"Harlan."
"Clara."
"You can ask."
He had rehearsed a proposal months earlier.
It had been a fine speech.
Something about land, partnership, loyalty, and building a home.
Now every prepared word felt ridiculous.
So he told the truth.
"I don't want you to marry me because you crossed the country."
She listened.
"Or because letters promised something."
He continued.
"I don't want you to think you owe me because I found you."
Her eyes softened.
"I want you to stay because when I look at my cabin now, I can imagine hearing you argue in it."
She laughed.
"That is the worst proposal I've ever heard."
"It's my first."
"I hope so."
He smiled.
Then became serious.
"Clara Whitmore, when you're ready, if you're ready, I'd like to build a life with you."
She studied him for a long moment.
Then she said, "Ask again on your mountain."
His heart sank slightly.
She saw it.
"I'm saying yes, Harlan."
He looked at her.
"But I want you to ask where you first planned to bring me."
He exhaled.
"That's unnecessarily complicated."
"I'm a schoolteacher."
"Is that an explanation?"
"It explains many things."
Three days later they prepared to leave.
Elias was recovering.
Silas would follow after testifying.
Cole planned to accompany the railroad investigators to Boise.
Pike faced charges.
Before Harlan mounted, the deputy marshal approached.
"We found something else."
Harlan stopped.
"What?"
"Among Rusk's correspondence."
He handed him a telegram.
Harlan read it.
TRANSFER FAILED. MERCER WOMAN ALIVE. INITIATE SECOND CLAIMANT.
His expression hardened.
"Second claimant?"
The marshal nodded.
"We don't know who it means."
Clara stepped closer.
"When was this sent?"
"Yesterday morning."
"To whom?"
"That's the problem."
Harlan turned the telegram over.
One destination had been written on the back.
His mountain claim.
He looked toward the northern ridge.
Someone had been sent there.
Before they could leave town, a rider came racing down the road from Harlan's mountain.
The boy stopped so hard his horse nearly fell.
"Mr. Mercer!"
Harlan grabbed the bridle.
"What happened?"
The boy was white with fear.
"Your cabin."
"What about it?"
"There's a woman there."
Harlan frowned.
"What woman?"
May you like
The boy swallowed.
"She says she's Clara Whitmore."
