Snow swirled behind him.
Eleanor stood several feet back with the revolver hidden in the folds of her skirt.
A man approached on horseback.
Judge Harland Voss.
Eleanor recognized him immediately.
He had stood behind the auction platform in Covenant Creek.
One of the territorial officials holding papers tied in black ribbon.
Her blood chilled.
Beside him rode the auction master.
And behind them were ten armed men.
Voss smiled.
“Mrs. Hayes.”
Eleanor’s fingers tightened around the revolver.
“Judge.”
“You’ve had a difficult few days.”
“You tried to separate my children.”
“I followed territorial law.”
“You stole one before that.”
His smile disappeared.
“Careful.”
Caleb stepped forward.
“Get off my land.”
Voss looked amused.
“Your land exists because the territory recognizes your deed.”
“My rifle doesn’t care.”
Several men shifted uneasily.
Voss lifted one hand.
“We’re here for the boy.”
“No.”
“The boy belongs to territorial guardianship.”
Eleanor stepped onto the porch.
“He belongs to me.”
Voss sighed.
“You surrendered your rights eight years ago.”
“I was told he was dead.”
“A claim you cannot prove.”
Caleb tossed something into the snow.
A piece of paper.
The ledger page.
Voss looked down.
For the first time, fear appeared in his eyes.
“You stole government property.”
“Funny,” Caleb said. “Government property usually doesn’t list prices beside children’s names.”
Voss’s horse shifted.
Then another voice came from the darkness.
“Enough.”
An older man rode forward.
Gray beard.
Black coat.
White clerical collar.
Eleanor recognized him.
Reverend Gideon Price.
The director of the Frontier Family Society.
The organization that had arranged her auction.
Price had once prayed with her in Philadelphia after Samuel’s supposed death.
He had found her housing.
He had recommended Wyoming.
He had told her the western territories offered widows a chance at respectable remarriage.
Eleanor felt sick.
“Reverend.”
Price gave her a sad smile.
“My poor child.”
Caleb raised his rifle.
Price did not seem frightened.
“This has gone far enough, Mr. Roar.”
“You’ve got ten seconds to leave.”
“You’ve caused enough bloodshed.”
“And you’ve caused enough graves.”
Price’s smile vanished.
He looked at Eleanor.
“Your husband became similarly unreasonable.”
Her heart stopped.
“What did you say?”
Caleb took one step forward.
“Don’t.”
But Eleanor barely heard him.
“What did you say about Samuel?”
Price smiled again.
“Surely Caleb told you.”
“Told me what?”
“Your husband caused enormous trouble.”
Snow fell between them.
Caleb’s rifle lifted.
Price continued.
“He could have lived.”
Eleanor’s face went numb.
“He merely had to forget one little boy.”
Something inside her shattered.
“You killed him.”
Price shrugged.
“I instructed others.”
Eleanor raised the revolver.
Caleb’s arm shot sideways.
“No.”
Her hands shook violently.
Price laughed.
“Still pretending you’re civilized, Roar?”
“No,” Caleb said.
His pale eyes turned almost silver.
“I’m making sure she doesn’t hang for killing you.”
Then the barn exploded.
Fire erupted into the sky.
Horses screamed.
Men scattered.
Crowe fired from the upstairs window.
Caleb dragged Eleanor behind the stone wall as bullets tore splinters from the porch.
“Cellar!”
“The children!”
“The cellar has an outside tunnel!”
Eleanor stared.
“What?”
“I built it after Nate came.”
