Mason had disliked the man for twenty years.

But dislike was not the same as believing Mercer had something to do with Anna’s death.

Anna had died when their wagon overturned crossing Copper Wash during a storm.

Mason himself had found the wreck.

He had found her blood on the rocks.

He had buried what the undertaker told him remained of her.

“You’re lying.”

Clara flinched.

The look on her face immediately made Mason regret the words.

But grief was already ripping open an old wound.

“My wife died in an accident.”

“I’m only telling you what Samuel found.”

“You expect me to believe Silas Mercer paid someone three hundred dollars to—”

Mason could not finish.

To kill Anna.

Clara looked down.

“Samuel believed it.”

“Why?”

“Because there were other names.”

Mason went still.

“What other names?”

“Families who lost ranches after someone died. Men shot during robberies. Women who disappeared. Fires. Accidents.”

She swallowed.

“Samuel said Mercer had been collecting land for years.”

Mason remembered names.

The Delaney farm.

Old Abram Pierce.

The Hargrove brothers.

People who had died at strangely convenient times.

Their properties had eventually been purchased by companies Mason later learned Mercer controlled.

Clara continued.

“Samuel copied pages from the ledger. Mercer discovered it. Samuel told me to run.”

Her voice cracked.

“He promised he would meet me near Wichita Falls.”

Mason already knew the ending.

“He never came.”

“No.”

“How did you know he died?”

“Mercer’s men brought his wedding ring.”

She closed her eyes.

“They said they wanted the pages.”

Mason looked at her stomach.

“And the baby?”

Clara’s hand covered it.

“Samuel’s.”

Something inside Mason loosened—not relief exactly, but clarity.

This woman was not carrying scandal.

She was carrying the last living part of a murdered man.

“What happened after that?”

“I ran.”

“For how long?”

“Nearly two months.”

She rubbed her wrists unconsciously where the rope burns from the auction were still faintly visible.

“They found me outside Abilene. I had already hidden most of Samuel’s papers. The men who caught me didn’t know exactly who I was. They thought I was just a runaway servant. They sold me twice before Dry Hollow.”

“Sold you?”

“Yes.”

Mason looked away.

His fists tightened.

He remembered the laughter in the auction yard.

Same price as a mule.

Something dark crawled up his spine.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Clara gave a broken laugh.

“Tell you what? That I was pregnant? That men might come looking for me? That your dead wife’s name was written beside the word silenced?”

She wiped her cheek.

“You had already spent money to save me from men who treated me like livestock. I thought if you knew how much danger I carried, you might regret it.”

Mason turned toward her.

“Listen carefully.”

Clara looked up.

“I did not buy you.”

She blinked.