"Then the land is worth more than 600 acres."
Nathan looked at her.
"Much more."
Lucy whispered.
"Would Mr. Charles get it if I lived with him?"
"As guardian, he'd have control over certain decisions until you're grown."
Nathan's mouth tightened.
"Not ownership, but enough control to cause trouble."
Emily thought of Charles telling a frightened child she was ruining Nathan's life.
Not a threat.
A lever.
By morning, the storm had weakened.
Henry and Robert found the shelter shortly after sunrise, having followed Nathan's trail from the crooked pine before the night's snow erased it completely.
Henry entered first.
His weathered face changed when he saw Lucy.
"Well."
He removed his hat.
"There's the most troublesome little girl in Wyoming."
Lucy burst into tears.
Henry crossed the shelter and hugged her.
Nobody teased him when his own eyes turned wet.
Getting Nathan home proved harder.
He insisted on riding until Emily watched him nearly slide from the saddle after the first mile down.
"I'm fine."
"You've been saying that since a cabin fell on you."
"Part of a cabin?"
"That distinction isn't helping."
Henry looked away to hide a smile.
Nathan finally allowed Robert to rig a drag sled from poles and canvas.
He complained exactly twice.
Emily ignored him exactly twice.
By noon, Double Pine appeared through the trees.
Samuel ran from the barn.
Jack followed more slowly.
Emily noticed him watching Lucy.
Only for a second.
Then his eyes shifted toward Nathan.
"Found her."
Then Nathan's expression gave nothing away.
"We did."
Jack approached as if to help.
Nathan handed his reins to Samuel instead.
"Everybody inside. We talk later."
But they didn't talk about Charles in front of the men.
Not yet.
Emily insisted Nathan remain downstairs near the stove while she checked his injuries again.
Lucy refused to leave his side, so Emily gave her a basin and made her useful washing the scratches on Nathan's hands.
Nathan tolerated this until Lucy dabbed too much soap into one cut.
He hissed.
Lucy looked horrified.
Emily said, "Interesting."
Nathan frowned.
"What?"
"A man who can hold up a roof is apparently defeated by soap."
Lucy laughed.
Nathan looked between them.
"I liked this household better yesterday."
"No, you didn't," Emily said.
Nathan's eyes met hers.
"No."
His voice softened.
"I didn't."
The moment lasted only a breath.
Then Emily remembered the North Creek.
That afternoon, she opened every box of papers Nathan kept in the front room.
Deeds, tax receipts, cattle contracts, old correspondence.
Nathan joined her despite instructions to rest, lowering himself carefully into the chair opposite hers.
"You're terrible at following orders."
"So I've been told."
"By whom?"
"My wife."
The word landed differently now.
Emily looked down before he could see her smile.
Lucy sat near the fire with her wooden horse within sight of both of them.
Nathan found the deed first.
The north parcel had belonged to his brother, William Reed, purchased years earlier from a neighboring homesteader. After William's death, the property had passed through his wife to Lucy.
Emily examined the legal description.
"Charles knew this."
"Everybody in the family knew William owned it."
"Would he know its present value?"
Nathan leaned back.
"Water got more important after the drought two summers ago."
He looked toward the window.
"Charles knows cattle."
"He'd know."
Emily continued sorting.
Near the bottom of a correspondence box, she found three letters from Charles.
One concerned Lucy's schooling. Another criticized Nathan's isolated ranch. The third included copies of affidavits Charles had apparently submitted with his guardianship petition.
Emily read the first page, then again.
"What?"
Nathan leaned forward.
"This witness."
She pointed to a signature.
"Martin Bell."
"Know him?"
"I know the name."
"From where?"
"The Willow House."
Emily stood and crossed to her sewing case where she kept a small notebook containing old addresses, measurements, debts owed for mending, and names she might need if she returned to Red Willow.
She found the entry.
"Martin Bell. Last September, he stayed at the boarding house for nearly three weeks."
Nathan frowned.
"So?"
Emily tapped the affidavit.
"This says he witnessed Charles signing this statement in Laramie on September 17th."
"And on September 17th, Martin Bell was in Red Willow."
"You certain?"
"I recorded boarding payments when Mrs. Foster's rheumatism got bad."
Nathan stared at the paper.
"Could have left town for a day."
"Not easily."
Emily's finger moved down the affidavit.
"It says this was signed before a notary in Laramie."
"That's more than a day's ride."
Nathan sat back.
For the first time since returning, the pain in his face disappeared beneath something colder.
"Could the date be wrong?"
"Possibly."
Emily folded her hands.
"One wrong date proves very little."
Nathan nodded.
"But it tells us where to look."
Over the following days, Double Pine became quieter.
Nathan sent Henry into Red Willow with an ordinary supply order and instructions to ask no obvious questions.
Emily reviewed Charles's letters until she recognized his phrasing.
Lucy remembered pieces.
A brown coat, a hotel hallway, Charles telling another man there was good money in water.
Nothing enough by itself.
Then Henry returned.
He carried coffee, lamp oil, horseshoe nails, two sacks of flour, and a folded notice he'd persuaded George Miller to obtain from a land broker.
Nathan opened it at the kitchen table.
Emily stood beside him.
The notice described inquiries concerning future transfer of water access connected to the Reed North parcel.
The inquiry had been made in October, before Charles filed his objection, before Nathan married Emily, before anyone could pretend the guardianship dispute had created an interest in the land.
Emily looked at the name listed beneath the broker's notation.
Charles Reed.