By morning, Harrison had left Oak Haven.
Mabel learned from a stable boy that he had ridden hard toward Longhorn Valley sometime after midnight.
She told herself she did not care.
Then she spent the entire day caring.
On the second morning, a lawyer arrived.
Silas Bell was seventy if he was a day, with spectacles thick enough to stop a bullet.
He requested Mabel by name.
They met in the Higgins parlor.
Her parents were present.
So was Clementine.
Silas opened a leather case.
“I represented Edwin Marsh.”
Josiah groaned.
Silas ignored him.
“Eleven years ago, Mr. Marsh instructed me to safeguard several documents should anything happen to him.”
“Why didn’t you contact me?” Mabel asked.
“I did.”
He looked at Josiah.
“Repeatedly.”
Mabel closed her eyes.
Of course.
Silas placed papers on the table.
“Your father informed me a settlement had been reached with Thomas Cole.”
“It had.”
“No.”
Everyone looked at him.
Silas adjusted his spectacles.
“A payment was made. A settlement was never completed.”
Josiah turned white.
“What?”
“Edwin’s agreement contained a provision preventing any guardian from selling the beneficiary’s interest.”
Harrison’s father had paid Josiah six thousand dollars for something Josiah had no legal authority to sell.
Mabel whispered, “Then…”
Silas nodded.
“Your ownership was never transferred.”
Martha gasped.
Josiah stood so quickly his chair fell.
“That is impossible.”
“It is inconvenient,” Silas corrected. “Not impossible.”
“How much?” Mabel asked.
Silas regarded her.
“As presently calculated, Edwin Marsh’s partnership interest, after subsequent expansions, profits, reinvestments and asset appreciation…”
He paused.
Clementine gripped Mabel’s hand.
“…would entitle you to approximately thirty-one percent of Longhorn Valley Ranch and accumulated unpaid distributions exceeding forty thousand dollars.”
Nobody breathed.
Forty thousand.
Josiah made a strange choking sound.
Martha sat down hard.
Mabel could not comprehend the figure.
Silas continued.
“There is, however, a problem.”
Of course there was.
“What?”
“Thomas Cole’s estate records show that the Marsh interest was officially extinguished.”
“But you said—”
“I said it was never lawfully transferred.”
“Then someone forged it?”
Silas nodded.
“One document.”
Mabel looked toward her father.
Josiah stepped backward.
“No.”
Silas produced a paper.
“The signature purports to be Edwin Marsh’s.”
Josiah stared.
Then whispered, “That isn’t mine.”
Silas frowned.
“No one accused you.”
“But you were about to.”
“Were you not?”
Josiah looked genuinely terrified.
“I took the money. Yes. I hid it. Yes. God forgive me, I spent it.”
His eyes darted toward the forged paper.
“But I never saw that document.”
Mabel believed him.
She wished she did not.
“Then who forged Uncle Edwin’s signature?”
A voice came from the doorway.
“My father.”
Harrison stood there.
Dust covered his coat.
He looked as if he had ridden all night.
Mabel’s heart lurched.
He entered carrying a metal box.
“I found this behind a false panel in my father’s study.”
He placed it on the table.
Inside were letters.
Dozens.
“My father discovered Josiah had no authority to sell Mabel’s share,” Harrison said.
“So he created authority.”
Silas removed his spectacles.
“Thomas Cole forged Edwin’s release?”
“Yes.”
Mabel looked at Harrison.
He did not defend his father.
“That means Longhorn Valley owes you everything Silas calculated.”
Josiah whispered, “Harrison…”
Harrison did not look at him.
“I also found something else.”
He removed a sealed envelope.
The writing on it was faded.
Mabel Higgins.
Mabel stared at her name.
“Who wrote that?”
“Edwin.”
Silas’s expression changed.
“Impossible.”
“No,” Harrison said. “My father had it.”
Mabel took the envelope.
Her hands trembled.
Inside was a letter.
She read.
My dearest Mabel,
If you are reading this, then something has happened before I managed to explain what I should have told you years ago.
Her breath caught.
The room disappeared.
The ranch interest is yours, but not because I am merely your uncle.
