Silas rubbed the back of his neck.
“Daniel asked me not to.”
Her eyes sharpened.
“That answer is becoming dangerous.”
He almost smiled.
“He said if you knew you owned valuable land, Pike would know too.
You needed to take possession without drawing attention.”
“Take possession?”
Potter spoke from outside.
“In person.
Daniel’s legal arrangement required the owner to reside on the property before the claim’s winter deadline.
Otherwise the unregistered transfer could’ve been challenged by Pike.”
Lydia’s eyes widened.
She turned slowly toward Silas.
“The advertisement.”
Silas looked guilty.
“You needed a reason to come.”
“The wages.”
He cleared his throat.
“What about them?”
“Where did the money come from?”
Silas said nothing.
Lydia gasped.
“No.”
“Lydia—”
“Silas Croft.”
He grimaced.
Potter began laughing outside.
“The money,” Lydia repeated.
Silas finally confessed.
“Your account.”
Lydia stared.
Then she began laughing.
Not politely.
Not delicately.
She laughed until tears streamed down her face.
Silas folded his arms.
“I’m glad this is entertaining.”
“You hired me…”
He sighed.
“Yes.”
“To work…”
“Yes.”
“In my own cabin…”
“Yes.”
“On my own mountain…”
He looked toward the ceiling.
“Yes.”
“And paid me…”
“Don’t say it.”
“With my own money.”
Potter nearly fell off the porch laughing.
Lydia sat down because her knees had gone weak.
The absurdity was perfect.
For months she had believed Silas Croft had rescued her.
But the truth was that she had arrived on Croft Ridge already owning everything around her.
The cabin.
The mine.
The forest.
The silver.
Even technically, Lydia realized with wicked delight, the room Silas slept in.
She wiped her eyes.
Silas looked suspicious.
“What?”
“I’ve decided to raise your rent.”
His expression went blank.
Potter made a choking noise outside.
“Rent?”
“You’ve lived on my property all winter.”
“I built this cabin.”
“On my land.”
“It was mine when I built it.”
“Was.”
“Lydia.”
“I’m thinking five dollars monthly.”
“That is robbery.”
“Perhaps six.”
Silas glared.
Lydia smiled sweetly.
Then he started laughing.
The sound filled the cabin.
Deep.
Warm.
Free.
Grace woke in her cradle and immediately began crying because apparently everyone was enjoying themselves without her.
Lydia lifted her daughter.
Silas came closer.
His laughter faded.
Something changed in his expression.
The same tenderness Lydia had learned to recognize.
“There’s one thing the deed doesn’t settle,” he said.
“What?”
Silas became strangely nervous.
The man who had faced armed killers without blinking suddenly looked unable to meet her eyes.
He reached into his pocket.
Lydia’s heart stopped.
He placed something on the table.
A ring.
Simple silver.
Not expensive.
Beautiful.
“I’ve spent a lot of years thinking the mountain took everything good I was ever supposed to have.”
Lydia couldn’t breathe.
Silas continued.
“Then you climbed out of Potter’s wagon half frozen, stubborn as sin, carrying a baby and telling me you didn’t need charity.”
