A star was carved beneath its belly.

The star.

Every animal Thomas carved had one.

Except—

Maylin remembered suddenly.

Thomas’s stars were never decorative.

When they were courting, he had once hidden a marriage proposal beneath a removable wooden star inside a carved bird.

Her eyes widened.

Gideon noticed.

“What?”

Nothing.

Maylin forced herself to look toward the window.

But it was too late.

Gideon followed her first glance.

The horse.

His smile returned.

“There.”

Silas moved.

Gideon swung the gun toward him.

Maylin slammed her elbow backward.

The revolver fired.

Silas dropped.

Maylin screamed.

Gideon threw her aside and grabbed the wooden horse.

Shaw lunged at him.

“No!”

Gideon shoved the child.

Maylin saw red.

She sprang forward, but Gideon kicked her away.

He turned the horse upside down.

Found the star.

Twisted it.

A tiny compartment opened.

Something fell into his palm.

Not a ledger.

A key.

Gideon stared.

“What the hell is this?”

Silas groaned near the doorway.

Blood covered his shoulder.

Maylin looked at the key.

Small.

Iron.

Familiar.

Then she knew.

Thomas’s toolbox.

The old toolbox beneath their bed.

Gideon knew too.

He shoved Maylin aside and rushed toward the bedroom.

Maylin reached Silas.

“Can you stand?”

“Yes.”

He couldn’t.

Shaw crawled toward them.

“Papa’s box!”

“Stay with Faun!”

Maylin grabbed Silas’s revolver.

She entered the bedroom.

Gideon was kneeling beside Thomas’s wooden chest.

The key turned.

The lid opened.

Inside were tools.

Nothing more.

Gideon threw them onto the floor.

“Where is it?”

Maylin stared.

Then she noticed the bottom.

Thomas had repaired that chest once.

Two boards overlapped strangely.

She pointed the gun.

“Step away.”

Gideon turned.

“You’ve never fired one of those.”

“No.”

He smiled.

Maylin cocked the hammer.

“But I watched Thomas teach Shaw.”

The smile disappeared.

“Move.”

Gideon rose slowly.

Behind him, beneath the false bottom, something reflected the lamplight.

A metal box.

Gideon’s gaze flicked toward it.

Maylin saw.

So did he.

They moved simultaneously.

A shot exploded.

Gideon staggered.

He looked down.

Blood spread across his shirt.

Maylin stared at the smoking revolver in her hands.

Gideon collapsed beside Thomas’s bed.

For several seconds there was only wind.

Then Silas appeared, pale and bleeding.

Maylin lowered the weapon.

“I shot him.”

“Yes.”

“I’ve never shot anyone.”

“I know.”

Gideon coughed.

Still alive.

Silas kicked away his revolver.

“Good.”

Maylin knelt beside the metal box.

Inside was a black accounting ledger.

Letters.

Bank records.

Names.

Payments.

Enough evidence to destroy Gideon Pike and half a dozen powerful men.

But beneath them lay something else.

A sealed envelope.

Maylin picked it up.

Her name was written across the front.

She opened it.

Inside was a legal deed.

She stared at the words.

Then looked at Silas.

“I don’t understand.”

He read over her shoulder.

His expression changed.

“This can’t be.”

“What?”

The deed transferred ownership of Black Ridge Mine.

Not to Thomas.

Not to Maylin.

To Shaw Harrow and Faun Harrow, held in trust by their mother.

Maylin stared.

“How?”

Silas turned pages.

Then he found another document.

His eyes widened.

“What is it?”

“Pike didn’t own Black Ridge.”

“What?”

“He leased it.”