Chapter 40
Silas straightened. “A family arrangement proves very little.”
“It proves ownership.”
“It proves you were entitled to funds.”
Henrietta removed another folded sheet.
“And this proves transfer.”
She placed it beside the first.
The paper bore the stamp of a Chicago bank and the date of the wire.
Silas did not touch it.
Henrietta’s voice stayed even. “My father did not purchase Calvin Brooks. He did not pay him. He did not rescue Broken Spur. I transferred my own money to satisfy a debt attached to the property of the man I married.”
Calvin’s eyes closed for a moment.
The movement was small, but Henrietta saw it.
Silas said, “And you expect anyone to believe the distinction matters?”
Henrietta turned toward him fully. “You thought it mattered enough to build your insult around the opposite.”
His jaw tightened.
“You have told this town,” she continued, “that Calvin sold himself to my father. You counted on that story because it made him ashamed, and because ashamed men prefer silence to investigation.”
Calvin looked at Silas.
Something bleak passed across his face.
Henrietta saw it and understood before either man spoke.
Silas had counted on more than Calvin’s humiliation over her money.
He had counted on an older shame.
A deeper one.
Calvin’s hand gripped the blanket.
“Stop.”
Henrietta turned to him.
He was not speaking to Silas.
He was speaking to her.
“Calvin?”
His face had gone hard in the way it did when pain became too intimate to reveal. “You’ve shown enough.”
Silas’s eyes brightened.
That was when Henrietta knew there was something she still did not understand.
Silas knew it too.
“Have I?” he asked softly.
Calvin looked at him with naked hatred.
Mercer stepped between them. “Whatever performance you came to give, Vane, you’ve given it.”
But Silas’s attention remained on Calvin. “Your wife is very brave with accounts. Perhaps she should inspect why the account existed in the first place.”
Calvin’s throat worked.
Henrietta felt cold move through her that had nothing to do with the winter beyond the walls.
“Calvin.”
“Don’t.”
She had heard that tone from him before.
Not often.
Not when he was angry.
When he was afraid.
Henrietta moved closer to the bed. “What debt?”
Silas collected his gloves from the table.
“Ask him.”
Calvin’s voice dropped. “Vane, if you say one more word—”
“You’ll what?” Silas asked. “Stand up?”
Mercer took a step forward.