Nathaniel laughed.
“You’ve always been stubborn.”
Evelyn whispered, “I changed coaches because I thought someone was following me.”
“I was.”
Caleb said, “And you still found her.”
“Eventually.”
Nathaniel looked around the shack.
“But then the avalanche complicated things.”
Evelyn stared.
“The crash wasn’t planned?”
“The shooting was. The drop wasn’t.”
Caleb glanced toward the gun.
“So what now?”
“I take the satchel.”
“And her?”
Nathaniel looked at Evelyn.
Something almost human passed across his face.
Then disappeared.
“That depends.”
“On what?” she asked.
“Whether you can still be reasonable.”
Her laugh was broken.
“You murdered strangers.”
“I was protecting us.”
“There is no us.”
“There could be.”
Evelyn stared at him as though seeing a corpse speak.
Nathaniel’s voice softened.
“My father is dying.”
Caleb stiffened.
“Cancer. Maybe months.”
Nathaniel continued.
“When he dies, everything becomes mine.”
“Everything he stole,” Caleb said.
“Everything every rich man has ever stolen from someone poorer.”
Nathaniel shrugged.
“The difference is that I admit it.”
Caleb took one step.
Nathaniel cocked the revolver.
“Careful.”
Evelyn said, “You were going to expose him.”
“I was going to control him.”
“The documents—”
“Insurance.”
“And Caleb’s family?”
Nathaniel’s smile faded.
“That was Father.”
“You rode with them,” Caleb said.
Silence.
Nathaniel looked at Caleb.
“Yes.”
Caleb felt the old fire rise inside him.
“Why?”
“I was twenty-three. My father told me we were frightening you off the land.”
“You saw the house burning.”
“Yes.”
“You saw my wife inside.”
“Yes.”
“You heard my boy?”
Nathaniel said nothing.
Caleb’s voice cracked.
“Did you hear him?”
Nathaniel looked away.
That was answer enough.
Caleb lunged.
The gun fired.
Evelyn screamed.
Caleb staggered.
Blood spread across his shoulder.
Nathaniel struck him across the temple with the revolver.
Caleb fell.
“Caleb!”
Evelyn ran toward him.
Nathaniel seized her.
She clawed at his face.
He slapped her hard enough to drop her.
“You always did mistake defiance for courage.”
Evelyn looked up, blood on her lip.
“And you always mistook money for strength.”
Nathaniel raised the gun.
Then someone outside said:
“That’s enough.”
Everyone froze.
An old man stood in the doorway.
Snow covered his black coat.
Silver hair.
Cane.
Behind him stood four armed men.
Evelyn whispered, “Silas.”
Silas Harrow looked not at Evelyn.
Not at Nathaniel.
At Caleb.
And tears filled the old man’s eyes.
“My God,” he whispered.
“Anna’s boy.”
Caleb, half-conscious, heard the words.
Anna’s boy?
Nathaniel turned sharply.
“What did you say?”
Silas stepped inside.
His gaze never left Caleb.
“You never told him?”
Nathaniel’s face changed.
“Told me what?”
Silas laughed weakly.
A terrible, exhausted sound.
“Of course not.”
Caleb struggled upright.
“What are you talking about?”
Silas looked at him.
And spoke the sentence that shattered every truth Caleb had carried for eight years.
“Anna Ward was my daughter.”
Caleb thought he had misheard.
Nathaniel did too.
“What?”
Silas Harrow’s voice trembled.
“Anna was born Anna Harrow.”
Caleb stared.
“No.”
“She left our family at nineteen. Took her mother’s maiden name. Met you two years later.”
“You’re lying.”
“I wish I were.”
Silas reached inside his coat.
Nathaniel aimed at him.
“Slowly.”
Silas produced a photograph.
He tossed it onto the floor.
Caleb picked it up.
Anna.
Young.
Seventeen perhaps.
Standing beside Silas Harrow.
And beside a boy.
Nathaniel.
Caleb looked from the photograph to Nathaniel.
Nathaniel’s face had gone completely white.
Evelyn whispered, “She was your sister.”
Nathaniel shook his head.
“No.”
Silas closed his eyes.
“Half sister.”
Caleb could barely breathe.
All those years.
Anna had never told him.
“Why?”
Silas answered the question Caleb had not fully spoken.
“Because she hated what I was.”
The old man sat heavily on the rough chair.
