“From whom?”

Silas looked at Maylin.

“Thomas.”

She laughed once in disbelief.

“No.”

“His father bought the land in 1859. Thomas inherited it.”

“He worked there for wages.”

“He must have kept his ownership hidden.”

“Why?”

Silas searched through the documents.

Then stopped.

He handed her another letter.

Maylin recognized Thomas’s handwriting.

Maylin,

My father taught me that money changes the way people look at you.

When I met you, I wanted one thing in my life that wasn’t connected to property, inheritance, or obligation.

I wanted to know you chose me.

So I never told you what Black Ridge was worth.

That was my first cowardice.

Later, when I discovered what Pike was doing beneath our land, silence became dangerous.

I transferred everything to the girls.

If I survive, I’ll explain.

If I don’t, you will hate me for keeping this from you.

You have every right.

But understand this:

The cabin was never all I left you.

Maylin lowered the letter.

She could barely see.

Silas turned another page.

Then his expression became utterly still.

“What?”

He didn’t answer.

“Silas?”

He handed her the final document.

Maylin read it.

And the world stopped.

It was not a deed.

Not a bank statement.

Not evidence.

It was a death certificate.

Thomas Harrow.

Except the date was wrong.

Not fourteen months ago.

Three months ago.

Maylin’s mouth opened.

No sound emerged.

She looked at Silas.

“He survived?”

Silas’s face had gone pale.

“I didn’t know.”

“He survived the explosion?”

“Apparently.”

“Then where was he?”

Silas searched the box.

Another envelope.

This one addressed:

To Silas Reed.

He tore it open.

Read.

Sat down.

“What does it say?”

Silas handed it to her.

Reed,

If you’re reading this, Gideon found what I couldn’t keep hidden forever.

You believed I died at Black Ridge because I needed you to believe it.

Everyone did.

The blast left me badly injured, but alive. Doctor Bell helped me disappear because Pike would have killed my family if he knew I survived.

I spent eleven months gathering names.

The men above Pike.

Judges.

Railroad agents.

Bankers.

A senator.

Enough to end the entire operation.

I couldn’t return to Maylin.

Every day I stayed dead was another day she stayed alive.

Tell her I’m sorry.

And tell her one more thing.

You once asked why I trusted you.

It wasn’t because you were a marshal.

It was because years ago, before either of us knew what Black Ridge would become, you dragged a stranger from a freezing river and gave him your coat.

That stranger was me.

A good man never remembers every good thing he does.

The people he saves do.

Take care of my girls.

And if Maylin ever decides her heart has room for another man, don’t run from her because of me.

Life is too short for ghosts to demand loyalty from the living.

Silas stopped reading.

Maylin covered her mouth.

Thomas had lived.

For eleven months, while she had mourned him.

He had lived alone.

Hidden.

Protecting them.

And died only three months earlier.

The pain was new and old at the same time.