When they finally saw the church steeple, dawn was breaking.
Nolan drove directly to Sheriff Maddox’s office.
The sheriff listened.
Then looked strangely uncomfortable.
“You know something,” Nolan said.
Maddox looked at Maribel.
“Three weeks ago, a couple passed through town. Stayed at the hotel one night.”
“With a baby?”
“Not when they arrived.”
Maribel’s blood went cold.
“When they left?”
Maddox nodded.
“They had one.”
“Where did they go?”
“North.”
Nolan and Maribel looked at each other.
North.
There was almost nothing north of Widow Creek.
Except Raven Hollow.
And two isolated farms.
Nolan’s face changed.
“Ruth.”
Maribel couldn’t breathe.
They ran.
Raven Hollow seemed peaceful.
Too peaceful.
Nolan jumped from the sleigh.
“Ruth!”
No answer.
The door stood unlocked.
Inside, the stove burned.
A bottle rested on the kitchen table.
Grace’s cradle was empty.
Maribel stopped.
“No.”
Nolan sprinted upstairs.
“GRACE!”
Nothing.
Maribel saw the note first.
It had been pinned to Eliza’s embroidery.
Nolan tore it free.
Three lines.
You wanted the boy.
I wanted the girl.
Ask your dead wife why.
Below it was a location.
Blackwater Mill.
Maribel whispered, “Crowe.”
Nolan reached for his rifle.
“Not alone.”
“You stay here.”
“My son may be there.”
“So may Grace.”
“Exactly.”
Their eyes met.
There was no point arguing.
They rode together.
Blackwater Mill had been abandoned for eight years.
Its wheel stood frozen beside the river, covered in ice.
Nolan entered first.
Maribel followed.
They heard a baby crying.
Then another.
Grace.
And somewhere farther inside—
a boy.
Maribel nearly collapsed at the sound.
A lantern flared.
Dr. Crowe stepped from the shadows.
He held a pistol.
Beside him stood a woman.
Maribel recognized her immediately.
Mrs. Palmer.
The same woman Nolan had begged for help the night Grace nearly starved.
Maribel stared.
“You?”
Mrs. Palmer smiled sadly.
“Children are expensive.”
Nolan raised his rifle.
Crowe aimed at Grace’s basket.
“Lower it.”
Nolan obeyed.
Maribel searched the room.
Two baskets.
Grace lay in one.
In the other was a baby boy wrapped in blue.
Her heart stopped.
“Matthew.”
The infant turned his face toward her voice.
Maribel made a sound no human being should ever have to make twice.
The sound of a mother finding a child she had buried.
She stepped forward.
Crowe lifted the pistol.
“No.”
Maribel stopped.
“Why?”
Crowe’s expression hardened.
“You think frontier medicine pays? Half this town settles bills with chickens.”
“You stole babies.”
“I placed unwanted children with families.”
“He wasn’t unwanted!”
“Your husband was dead. Your bakery was failing.”
“You decided I didn’t deserve my son?”
“I decided he could have wealth.”
Maribel trembled.
“And Grace?”
Crowe glanced toward the baby.
“Grace complicated things.”
Nolan’s voice became terrifyingly soft.
“My wife.”
Mrs. Palmer answered.
“Eliza found the ledger.”
Nolan’s eyes went dead.
Crowe said, “She threatened to expose us.”
“You killed her.”
“No.”
Nolan stepped forward.
Crowe cocked the pistol.
“Stop.”
“You killed my wife.”
“I didn’t have to.”
Mrs. Palmer spoke.
“Eliza was bleeding after Grace came.”
Nolan turned toward her.
Mrs. Palmer continued quietly.
“She needed medicine.”
Maribel understood before Nolan did.
“Oh God.”
Mrs. Palmer looked almost ashamed.
“Silas had it.”
Nolan’s face emptied.
“He withheld it?”
Crowe snapped, “She would have destroyed everything.”
“You let her bleed.”
“She chose righteousness over her family.”
Nolan lunged.
The gun fired.
Maribel screamed.
Nolan stumbled.
Blood appeared across his shoulder.
