Chapter 52
His laughter stopped. “That was before the ravine.”
“Yes.”
“You distrusted Silas before the ravine.”
“I distrusted anyone who could make the same arithmetic mistake three times and always profit by it.”
Calvin looked toward the burning office, then back at her soot-streaked face. Something almost like reverence entered his eyes, and Henrietta hated how much it hurt to see it now after having wanted one kind word from him for so long.
She unlocked the cashbox.
Inside lay folded account pages, Calvin’s torn foreclosure notice, several receipts, the rail description copied from the deed papers, and Dr. Elias Mercer’s sealed letter from Calvin’s father. Smoke had blackened the edges of the box, but the papers themselves were untouched.
Calvin touched the top page with two fingers.
“You saved them.”
“I prepared for Silas.”
“You saved them,” he said again.
Henrietta closed the lid. “Help me stand.”
The request restored him to himself. He braced one palm against the ground and reached for her with the other, though the irony of it showed in his grimace. Between them they managed something more like mutual collapse than graceful rising, and Henrietta hooked his arm across her shoulders.
“You are not putting weight on that leg.”
“Henrietta—”
“I am larger than you expected, remember? Tonight we will discover whether that comes with advantages.”
He shut his eyes.
She felt the words strike him harder than she intended.
“I deserve that.”
“Yes,” she said.
He opened his eyes.
Henrietta shifted his arm more securely over her shoulders. “But not now.”
They had crossed only half the yard when hoofbeats sounded through the snow.
Henrietta stiffened.
Calvin’s arm tightened over her shoulders as both of them turned toward the ranch road. The fire painted the falling snow copper, making every flake look briefly aflame before it vanished into darkness.
A rider appeared first.
Then another.
Dr. Elias Mercer swung down before his horse had fully stopped. He took in the burning office, Calvin upright on a splinted leg, Henrietta blackened with smoke, and the iron cashbox between them.
His face went still.
“I leave you people alone for one hour.”
Calvin said, “Do not start.”
“I have not yet begun.”
The deputy dismounted behind him and looked from the fire toward the open road. “Where’s Vane?”
Henrietta’s grip tightened around the cashbox handle. “Gone.”
Dr. Mercer’s eyes snapped to her. “You saw him?”
“No. But the ledger he stole was inside the office. He brought it back to burn it.”