Clara’s chin trembled.
Nathaniel placed the money beside the ledger.
“Write my name.”
Bell hesitated.
Then he dipped his pen.
The nib touched paper.
“WAIT!”
A man shoved through the crowd.
He wore a dust-covered coat despite the snow, and his horse stood nearby blowing clouds of steam, saddle lathered white.
The stranger stumbled toward the wagon.
“Don’t sign that.”
Nathaniel turned slowly.
The man bent over, fighting for breath.
Horace Bell frowned.
“State your business.”
The stranger straightened.
“My name is Elias Crowe.”
Several older men exchanged glances.
Nathaniel recognized the name.
Crowe had once been a deputy marshal in Colorado Territory. He had vanished from public life years ago.
Crowe pointed toward the children.
“You don’t know who they are, Boone.”
Nathaniel’s voice hardened.
“They’re children.”
“You don’t know what their father did.”
Clara stepped protectively in front of the basket.
Crowe saw the movement.
Pain crossed his face.
Nathaniel noticed it.
“What did Samuel Whitmore do?”
Crowe lowered his voice.
“Three months ago, twenty thousand dollars in gold disappeared from the Silver Creek Mining Company.”
Whispers erupted.
“Samuel Whitmore was accused of stealing it.”
Clara shook her head.
“My papa didn’t steal.”
Crowe looked at her.
“I know.”
That silenced everyone.
Nathaniel’s eyes narrowed.
Crowe continued.
“Your father found something, Clara. Something powerful men wanted buried.”
Horace Bell slammed the ledger shut.
“This is neither the time nor—”
Crowe turned on him.
“I rode two days because Samuel Whitmore sent me a letter before he died.”
Clara went white.
“You knew Papa?”
Crowe nodded.
Nathaniel stepped closer.
“What did he write?”
Crowe looked toward the children.
Then toward the road leading beyond town.
“He said if anything happened to him, someone would come for what he hid beneath the Whitmore homestead.”
The wind whistled between the buildings.
Nathaniel’s jaw tightened.
“And what exactly did he hide?”
Crowe stared at him.
“I don’t know.”
Then he looked at Clara.
“But I know men have already killed for it.”
Horace Bell reached for the adoption ledger.
“That settles the matter. Until this alleged property is investigated—”
Nathaniel planted one gloved hand on the book.
“No.”
Bell stared at him.
“These children may be connected to stolen assets.”
Nathaniel leaned closer.
“They may also freeze to death while you investigate.”
“That does not give you authority—”
Nathaniel dropped the adoption fee on top of the ledger.
“Then consider them guests at my ranch until your paperwork catches up.”
He lifted Daniel’s basket.
Clara stepped back.
For the first time, fear entered her eyes.
Nathaniel saw it.
He crouched until they were nearly level.
“I won’t take your brothers without you.”
