Then Sheriff Pike entered.

His face was grim.

“Rowan.”

The room quieted.

“We found the man who set the fire.”

Every eye turned.

“Who?”

“Fellow named Cal Drenner.”

Rowan knew him.

One of Crane’s hired men.

“Where is he?”

“Gone.”

Her stomach dropped.

“Gone?”

“Left town.”

“Then how do you know?”

Pike held up a paper.

“Because he left this.”

A confession.

Written and signed.

Cal Drenner admitted starting the fire.

But not because Crane ordered him.

According to the confession, Elias Ward had paid him fifty dollars to burn Rowan’s barn.

Silence swallowed the room.

Rowan turned.

Elias stood near the doorway.

His face had gone pale.

“That’s a lie.”

Sheriff Pike stepped forward.

“Elias—”

“It’s a lie.”

“Your name is on the statement.”

“I can see that.”

Rowan stared at him.

“Why would anyone say you did it?”

He looked at her.

“I don’t know.”

Then Pike said something worse.

“We searched Elias’s room.”

Rowan’s heart stopped.

“We found the original Northstar purchase order.”

Elias closed his eyes.

Pike unfolded the document.

“The eggs were ordered in Elias Ward’s name.”

Nobody spoke.

Rowan felt the room tilt.

Elias had asked where the eggs came from.

Elias had known Northstar.

Elias had found the altered ledger.

Elias had told her about peat.

Elias had been beside her through everything.

She whispered, “Tell me he’s wrong.”

Elias looked at her.

“I ordered them.”

The words hit harder than the burning beam.

Rowan stepped back.

“Why?”

“It’s not what you think.”

“Then tell me what to think.”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t?”

“Not here.”

She laughed bitterly.

“That’s convenient.”

Pike moved closer.

“Elias Ward, I need you to come with me.”

Elias did not resist.

As he passed Rowan, he said quietly, “Do not sell the farm.”

She stared at him.

He held her eyes.

“No matter what happens, do not sell the farm.”

Then the sheriff took him away.

For three days, Rowan barely slept.

Everything felt contaminated.

Every conversation with Elias.

Every kindness.

Every explanation.

Why had he ordered the eggs?

Why had the shipment been destroyed?

Why had someone accused him of burning the barn?

And why wouldn’t he explain?

She went to the jail.

Elias sat behind iron bars.

“Tell me.”

He stood.

“I can’t.”

“Then I’m done.”

“Rowan—”

“You ordered those eggs.”

“Yes.”

“For me?”

Silence.

Her throat tightened.

“Were they for me?”

“No.”

That hurt more than she expected.

“Then who?”

“I promised someone I wouldn’t say.”

“Someone?”

“Yes.”

“Who matters enough that you’ll sit in jail rather than tell me?”

Elias looked at her for a long time.

Then he said, “Someone dead.”

Rowan frowned.

“What?”

But he sat down.

“I’ve said too much.”

She left furious.

That evening, she searched the farmhouse.

She did not know what she was looking for.

Old papers.

Receipts.

Anything.

Her grandfather’s desk remained in the front room.

Rowan had cleaned it months ago but never forced open the locked bottom drawer.

That night, she did.

Inside were tax receipts.

Property maps.

A Bible.

And a bundle of letters tied with green ribbon.

The first was addressed to her grandfather.

The handwriting belonged to her mother.

Rowan stopped breathing.

Her mother had died six years earlier.

She sat on the floor.

Opened the letter.

Father,

I know Rowan believes I never wanted her to know about Caldwell Flats. Perhaps that is for the best until she is older.

But I need you to protect the land.