Daniel stepped between them.
“Her name is Mercer.”
Voss smiled faintly.
“That depends on what the law decides.”
He removed a document.
“Caleb Rusk is alive.”
Emily’s hand found the edge of the table.
Voss unfolded the paper.
“And according to the records of Lincoln County, Nebraska, Emily Hart married him on May 14, 1879. No divorce was ever granted. No death was ever legally established.”
Daniel stared at the document.
A seal sat at the bottom.
So did Emily’s signature.
Voss’s voice softened.
“Which means yesterday’s ceremony was invalid.”
Emily swayed.
Daniel caught her automatically.
She stiffened for half a second.
Then something changed.
For the first time, she did not pull away.
Daniel held her elbow until she steadied herself.
“Where is Rusk?”
Voss hesitated.
“He prefers not to meet you.”
“I imagine that’s wise.”
“He wants only what belongs to him.”
Emily whispered, “Me?”
Voss looked almost amused.
“No.”
He reached into the satchel again.
“The Blackwater parcel.”
Emily stared.
“My mother’s land?”
“Your husband claims marital interest.”
Daniel held out his hand.
“Show me.”
The map was old.
When Daniel unfolded it across the kitchen table, his blood ran cold.
He knew the lines.
He knew the creek.
He knew the ridge drawn in faded ink.
The parcel Emily had inherited lay not hundreds of miles away.
Not even dozens.
It lay directly north of Mercer Ranch.
A long, narrow strip following Blackwater Creek through a canyon.
Daniel looked at her.
“Emily.”
“What?”
“This is here.”
She frowned.
“What do you mean?”
He touched the map.
“That’s Eagle Ridge. That’s the north pasture.”
His finger shifted.
“And this…”
He stared at the boundary.
“This touches my land.”
Voss smiled.
“For years, the Blackwater parcel was considered useless.”
“Then why does Caleb want it?”
Voss folded the map.
“Ask your railroad men.”
Daniel’s eyes narrowed.
Voss walked toward his horse.
“Three days, Mercer.”
Daniel followed him outside.
“For what?”
“Mrs. Rusk signs over the property voluntarily, and Caleb disappears forever.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
Voss mounted.
“Then Caleb comes to claim everything the law gives him.”
His eyes shifted toward Emily standing in the doorway.
“Including his wife.”
Daniel raised the rifle.
Voss’s horse danced backward.
“You tell Caleb something for me.”
Voss waited.
Daniel’s voice became deadly calm.
“The last man who mistakes a marriage license for permission to terrorize that woman is going to have a very unpleasant education.”
Voss rode away.
Emily remained in the doorway.
After several minutes, she whispered, “Railroad men?”
Daniel nodded slowly.
“Rumors started last spring. Northern Pacific surveyors may run a spur through the valley.”
“So?”
“So there are only two practical routes through these mountains.”
He looked toward the distant ridge.
“One crosses federal land and requires blasting three miles of granite.”
“And the other?”
Daniel’s gaze settled on Blackwater Canyon.
“Runs straight through your property.”
By noon, half the valley knew.
By evening, everyone did.
Small towns could stretch one whispered sentence into a complete tragedy before supper.
Daniel heard versions at the feed store.
Emily was a bigamist.
Emily was a murderer.
Daniel had known.
Daniel had married her for railroad money.
Caleb Rusk was coming with federal officers.
One particularly inventive rumor claimed Emily had three husbands buried beneath three different barns.
Daniel nearly broke Jasper Cole’s nose for repeating that one.
Emily stopped him.
“Don’t.”
“He called you—”
“I know.”
“Then let me hit him.”
“No.”
Daniel glared at Jasper.
