Chapter 18
By sunset, Leadville knew.
Matilda Bell—the woman people had mocked for her weight, the kitchen worker who earned three dollars a month, the woman Abigail Thatcher had thrown into a blizzard—was the legal heir to land worth more money than most men in town would see in ten lifetimes.
It should have felt like victory.
Instead, Matilda sat alone beside the cold fireplace in the county office, staring at papers she barely understood.
Ownership.
Mineral rights.
Timber rights.
Water rights.
Outstanding leases.
Back taxes.
Claims.
Disputes.
Everything seemed designed to remind her how little she knew.
Jedodiah entered quietly.
“Crowd's still outside.”
“I know.”
“They're waiting to see you.”
“They can wait.”
He sat across from her.
“You all right?”
“No.”
“Good.”
She looked up.
He shrugged.
“Would've worried me if you said yes.”
Despite herself, Matilda smiled.
Then the smile disappeared.
“They treated me like dirt yesterday.”
“Some did.”
“Today they're calling me Miss Harrow.”
Jedodiah nodded.
“I noticed.”
“They're bowing.”
“Also noticed.”
“I hate it.”
“Thought you might.”
Matilda looked at him.
“You're the only one acting exactly the same.”
“Would you prefer I bow?”
“If you do, I'll throw something.”
He leaned back.
“There she is.”
The warmth in his voice unsettled her in the best way.
Before she could answer, Elias entered.
Thomas followed several steps behind.
The tension between the two men filled the room.
Matilda sighed.
“If either of you starts fighting, I'm leaving.”
Thomas looked ashamed.
Elias almost smiled.
“We found something,” Elias said.
He placed a map on the table.
“The ownership question isn't finished.”
Matilda groaned.
“Of course it isn't.”
Elias pointed to several parcels.
“Thatcher's companies sold portions of your property over the years.”
“So I own them?”
“Possibly.”
Thomas shook his head.
“No. Taking every parcel back would ruin families who bought honestly.”
Elias looked at him.
For once, there was no hostility in his expression.
“He's right.”
Matilda stared between them.
“You agree?”
“Don't sound so shocked,” Thomas muttered.
Jedodiah coughed to hide a laugh.
Elias continued.
“The original fraud matters. But so does what happened afterward.”
Matilda thought of small farms.
Cabins.
Families.
People who might wake tomorrow fearing she would throw them out.
She remembered Abigail pointing toward the blizzard.
“Then we don't take homes.”
Elias nodded.
“We reclaim commercial holdings acquired directly through Thatcher.”
“And families?”
“We offer clear deeds.”
Thomas stared at her.
“You'd give away land worth thousands?”