The first meal had brought the boys to the table because they were hungry.

This one brought them because they did not want to face fear alone.

That was the moment she decided she would not leave.

Not because of a forged marriage.

Not because of land.

Because somewhere between the beans and the burning barn, these boys had become hers to defend.

Two days later Silas Vane came personally.

He arrived in a polished carriage wearing a black coat that had never seen ranch work.

He was nearing sixty, silver-haired, clean-shaven, and pleasant in the way poisonous things sometimes were.

“Nora Callaway.”

He smiled.

“I knew your mother.”

Nora remained on the porch.

Harlan stood just inside the doorway.

“You knew my father too.”

Vane’s smile weakened.

“I knew many people.”

“You knew enough to take his land six months after he died.”

“Bought it legally.”

“For twelve cents an acre?”

“Desperate estates create opportunities.”

Nora studied him.

“You came all this way to discuss business history?”

“I came to save you from a misunderstanding.”

He produced an envelope.

“Ten thousand dollars.”

Even Harlan shifted.

In Wyoming Territory, it was a fortune.

Vane continued.

“You sign away any claim related to Samuel Callaway. The Greer mortgage disappears. The family keeps six hundred acres free and clear. You receive ten thousand in cash.”

Nora almost admired the offer.

It was designed perfectly.

Enough to save everyone.

Enough to make refusing look selfish.

“Why pay me anything if my claim is worthless?”

Vane’s smile vanished.

Nora continued.

“You just told me more than any lawyer could.”

She stepped closer.

“You’re afraid.”

Vane’s eyes became flat.

“Your sister was stubborn too.”

Behind Nora, Harlan moved.

She extended one hand without looking back.

He stopped.

“What did you say?”

Vane realized his mistake.

Too late.

Nora whispered, “You knew Nell was my sister.”

Silence.

“We hadn’t told anyone.”

Vane put the envelope back into his coat.

“Take the money, Mrs. Greer.”

“Miss Callaway.”

His eyes flicked toward Harlan.

Nora smiled coldly.

“The marriage isn’t legal.”

For some reason that information disturbed him more than anything else.

Then Nora understood why.

If she had legally married Harlan, any property claim might become tangled with his debts.

If she remained Nora Callaway alone—

the claim belonged entirely to her.

Vane stepped backward.

“You have no idea what you’re doing.”

“No,” Nora said. “But my sister apparently did.”

He left without another word.

That afternoon, Nora found the front gate broken.

The next morning, three cattle were missing.

By sunset, Sheriff Crowe arrived with papers announcing that Vane intended to foreclose on Harlan’s mortgage in ten days.

The war had begun.

Nora and Harlan rode to Missouri three mornings later.

Thomas stayed behind with the boys and two neighboring ranchers Harlan trusted.

For four days Nora and Harlan traveled together.

Something changed between them.

Perhaps danger stripped away pretense.

Perhaps exhaustion did.

Around campfires, Harlan told her about Nell.

“She laughed when she was angry,” he said.

Nora smiled.

“So did my mother.”

“She hated sewing.”

“I love sewing.”

“She could shoot the head off a fence nail.”

“I once missed a chicken from twelve feet.”