Vale removed his hat.
“Miss Harper.”
Her blood chilled.
“You know me?”
“I know everyone who owes my bank money.”
Dawson stepped between them.
“What do you want?”
“Thorn Ridge’s payment is fourteen days late.”
Evelyn looked at Dawson.
“Your ranch is in debt?”
Dawson’s jaw tightened.
Vale smiled.
“Quite heavily.”
Suddenly things made sense.
The deteriorating kitchen.
Dawson’s hard expression.
The disappearing cattle Boone had mentioned.
Thorn Ridge looked wealthy.
But perhaps it was dying.
Vale continued.
“If payment isn’t received by the first snowfall, foreclosure proceedings begin.”
Dawson’s eyes became stone.
“You’ll get your money.”
“I hope so.”
Then Vale looked at Evelyn.
“And Miss Harper?”
“Yes?”
“You should return home.”
“Why?”
“Your brother has disappeared.”
The world tilted.
“What?”
“Thomas Harper hasn’t been seen for six days.”
Evelyn rode for home before sunrise.
Dawson refused to let her travel alone.
Jack volunteered.
Boone insisted on coming too.
They reached the Harper cabin after dark.
The door stood open.
Inside, chairs were overturned.
Drawers had been emptied.
Thomas was gone.
Evelyn’s mother’s trunk had been broken apart.
Someone had searched the entire house.
For what?
Evelyn knew instantly.
The recipe book.
Jack stood beside her.
“Did Thomas know about it?”
“No.”
Then she remembered.
Take Mother’s recipe book.
Her stomach tightened.
Maybe Thomas had known more than he admitted.
Evelyn searched his room.
Under the mattress she found a folded letter.
It was addressed to Thomas.
Written in their mother’s hand.
Evelyn opened it with trembling fingers.
Thomas, if trouble ever reaches you after I am gone, send Evelyn to Thorn Ridge. Do not tell her why. Make certain she takes my book. Boone Mercer will know what to do. Trust Dawson Ridgewell if you must. Trust no man named Holloway.
Evelyn stopped breathing.
Behind her, a floorboard creaked.
She turned.
Jack Holloway stood in the doorway.
His expression was unreadable.
Boone reached for his revolver.
Jack was faster.
His gun appeared in his hand.
“Don’t.”
Dawson stared at him.
“Jack?”
Evelyn slowly lowered the letter.
Jack smiled.
But the warmth she had come to trust was gone.
“Margaret Harper always was too clever.”
Evelyn’s heart shattered.
“You knew my mother.”
Jack looked at her.
“I knew your entire family.”
Boone’s voice became a growl.
“Caleb.”
Dawson went pale.
“What did you call him?”
Jack’s smile widened.
Boone spoke again.
“Caleb Ridgewell.”
Dawson staggered backward.
“No.”
Jack laughed softly.
“Hello, little brother.”
Dawson looked as if he had been shot.
“My brother died.”
“Your father wished I had.”
Jack—Caleb—leaned casually against the doorway.
“Samuel Ridgewell had two sons. Dawson, the obedient one. Caleb, the embarrassment.”
Boone’s gun remained half raised.
“Caleb started stealing cattle when he was nineteen. Altering brands. Selling stock across the Wyoming line.”
Dawson stared at Jack.
“You were thirteen when Caleb died.”
