"I found it."
"Where?"
No answer.
Emily unfolded the paper.
The handwriting was neat.
The words were not.
Charles told Lucy that Nathan's marriage had been made only for the judge. That Emily would take her money and leave after the spring hearing. That Nathan had sacrificed his freedom because Lucy refused to go where she belonged.
One line made Emily read it twice.
"If you truly love your uncle, you will stop trapping him in a life he never asked for."
Emily lowered the page.
"When did you get this?"
Lucy wiped her cheek with her sleeve.
"Few days ago."
"Who brought it?"
"I don't know."
"What?"
Lucy?
"I don't."
Her voice cracked.
Emily folded the letter carefully.
"Did somebody come to the house?"
"No."
"The barn?"
Lucy shook her head.
"Did one of the men give it to you?"
"I said, 'I don't know.'"
The words came out louder than Lucy intended.
She immediately looked frightened.
Emily didn't scold her.
She placed the letter on the bed.
Then she opened her arms.
Lucy stared.
A second later, the child fell against her.
Emily held her until the small body stopped shaking.
"I'm not angry."
"He says Uncle Nathan would be happier without me."
"Charles Reed says many things for a man who isn't here breaking ice or hauling hay."
Lucy gave a wet little laugh.
Emily brushed hair from her face.
"Listen to me. Whatever happens between Nathan and me after spring will be decided between Nathan and me. Not by Charles, not by Judge Briggs, and certainly not by a frightened 9-year-old trying to carry grown people's troubles in a flower sack."
Lucy looked at her.
"You won't leave because of me?"
"No."
Emily meant it.
Whatever happened, that much was true.
She brought the letter downstairs.
Nathan read it standing beside the kitchen table.
The quiet that came over him was worse than shouting.
"How did he get this here?"
"Lucy won't say."
Nathan looked toward the ceiling.
"She knows."
"Maybe. Or she's scared."
He reached for his coat.
"Where are you going?"
"Checking the yard."
"Nathan, it's snowing."
"Not hard enough yet."
Emily followed him outside.
Cold hit her face like thrown sand.
Nathan carried a lantern along the side of the house toward the lower fence.
Snow lay smooth near the barn where nobody had walked since afternoon.
Then Emily saw him stop.
She joined him.
Fresh hoofprints crossed near the cottonwoods.
One horse coming from the direction of the lower road.
Nathan crouched and touched the edge of a print.
"Not ours."
"How can you tell?"
"Different shoe."
He stood.
The tracks were already filling with snow.
Nathan looked toward the bunkhouse.
Jack's horse stood inside the corral.
So did the others.
"Somebody rode close enough to reach the house," Emily said.
"And didn't want me seeing him."
The storm thickened overnight.
By morning, wind had begun sweeping loose snow across the yard in long white sheets.
Nathan ordered the men to keep the cattle near the sheltered pasture.
Lucy barely touched breakfast.
Emily didn't press her.
Near noon, she found the child sewing alone at the new table Nathan had built.
The stitches wandered badly.
Emily sat beside her.
"Want me to show you again?"
Lucy covered the cloth with her hand.
"I know how."
Emily noticed her eyes were swollen.
She placed a spool beside her.
"All right."
That was all.
At 3, the wind rose hard enough to rattle the kitchen windows.
Nathan came inside with snow crusted across his beard.
"Weather's turning."
Emily handed him coffee.
Their fingers touched around the mug.
Nathan looked toward the stairs.
"Lucy?"
"Upstairs."
"I'll talk to her tonight."
"Not about Charles first."
Nathan frowned.
"Then what?"
"Tell her she isn't a burden."
Something in his face went still.
Emily lowered her voice.
"Don't assume she knows."
Nathan looked at the coffee, then nodded.
"I'll tell her."
He never got the chance.
At 4, Emily went upstairs to call Lucy for supper.
The bedroom was empty.
"Lucy?"
No answer.
The bedclothes had been disturbed.
The window was shut.
Emily crossed to the wardrobe.
Lucy's winter coat was gone.
So were her boots.
Emily's eyes dropped beneath the bed.
The flower sack was missing.
She ran downstairs.
"Nathan."
One word.
Something in her voice brought him out of the front room immediately.
"What?"
"I can't find Lucy."
The coffee mug slipped from his hand.
It struck the floor and rolled beneath the table without breaking.
Nathan took the stairs three at a time.
Emily followed.
He searched the room once, then again, as though a child might appear simply because he refused to accept what he was seeing.
He opened the wardrobe.
Nothing.
Emily looked at the bedside table.