Her sister lifted her chin.
“I’d like to make one bad decision entirely by myself.”
They rode together.
Blackwater Valley appeared near sunset.
Lena had seen it from distant ridges.
Never like this.
Grassland rolled between two mountain ranges, golden beneath the lowering sun. Hundreds of cattle grazed beside winding streams. Barns stood along the northern slope, and beyond them rose a large but practical ranch house shaded by cottonwoods.
Dawson met them before they reached the gate.
One look at Lena’s face and he understood.
“Harold?”
“Yes.”
“He’s here.”
Lena dismounted.
“Where?”
“Inside.”
Dawson caught her elbow when she stumbled.
She pulled away immediately.
His hand dropped.
“What did he bring?” she asked.
“A metal box.”
Eliza held up the key.
Dawson’s expression darkened.
“Then we may finally have everything.”
“Everything for what?”
He looked at Lena.
“To prove what happened.”
Inside the ranch house, Harold stood beside a lawyer Lena recognized from the territorial capital.
A gray-haired man named Samuel Mercer.
The metal box rested on the table.
Harold looked exhausted.
And furious.
“You had no right to follow me.”
Lena almost smiled.
“I’m beginning to think you’ve been wrong about what I have a right to.”
Mercer cleared his throat.
“Miss Hail, perhaps everyone should sit.”
“No.”
Lena remained standing.
“Tell me.”
Mercer glanced toward Dawson.
Dawson nodded.
The lawyer opened the metal box.
Inside were deeds.
Bank records.
Letters.
And a second ledger.
Mercer removed a document bearing Margaret Hail’s signature.
“Your mother created the Blackwater Trust shortly before her death.”
“I know.”
“But the arrangement was more unusual than Mr. Reed has explained.”
Lena looked toward Dawson.
His face revealed nothing.
Mercer continued.
“Silas Reed was not merely the trustee.”
He hesitated.
“He was also the public owner.”
“I don’t understand.”
“For protection.”
“From Father?”
Mercer looked at Harold.
“Yes.”
Harold said nothing.
“Margaret believed your father’s creditors might challenge the trust after her death. So Silas purchased the estate publicly using funds Margaret had already transferred to him.”
Lena frowned.
“Then Blackwater belonged to Silas?”
“On paper.”
“And later Dawson.”
“On paper.”
Harold snapped, “This is nonsense.”
Mercer removed another document.
“No, Mr. Hail. This is the original declaration of beneficial ownership.”
He placed it in front of Lena.
Her name appeared twice.
Mercer continued.
“Silas Reed spent twenty-three years allowing the territory to believe Blackwater belonged to the Reed family.”
Lena looked around.
The valley.
The cattle.
The enormous ranch everyone called the Reed empire.
A terrible suspicion entered her mind.
“Dawson…”
He remained silent.
Mercer spoke instead.
“Nearly every acre of what people call Reed Ranch sits inside the original Blackwater property.”
Lena’s lips parted.
“No.”
Dawson closed his eyes.
Mercer continued gently.
“Dawson Reed is not the beneficial owner of this ranch.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Lena grabbed the edge of the table.
Harold looked stunned.
Even Eliza whispered, “What?”
Mercer looked directly at Lena.
“You are.”
Nobody moved.
Outside, cattle lowed somewhere in the valley.
The sound seemed impossibly distant.
Lena stared at Dawson.
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Eleven months.”
“And everyone says you’re one of the richest ranchers in the territory.”
