I didn't do it alone. You were here. The children were here. We were surviving, Bo interrupted. Just barely making it from one day to the next.
You taught us how to thrive again, how to find joy in small things. How to believe that life could be good even after loss. He paused, his thumb tracing circles on the back of her hand. I need to tell you something. Something I should have told you weeks ago.
Eliza's heart started beating faster. What is it? Before Bo could answer, Matthew's voice rang out from the house. Mama, mama, there's people coming. Fancy people in a wagon.
Both stood quickly, pulling Eliza to her feet. They moved to the front of the house, where all five children had gathered on the porch, staring at an approaching wagon that was indeed far fancier than anything usually seen on ranch roads. As it drew closer, Eliza recognized the driver, Samuel Hutchkins, a lawyer from Santa Fe, who occasionally did business in Ashridge. But it was the passengers who made her breath catch. Two men in suits that cost more than most families earned in a year.
Their faces serious and official. "Stay with the children," Bo said quietly. "Let me handle this. " But Eliza had a sinking feeling that whatever these men wanted, it involved her. She gathered the children close, her arms around Meera and Nathaniel, while the older boys flanked her protectively. Samuel Hutchkins climbed down from the wagon, doawing his hat respectfully.
"Mr. Thatcher, Mrs. Thatcher, my apologies for arriving unannounced, but these gentlemen insisted on making the journey as soon as they heard. He gestured to his passengers who were descending with the careful movements of men unused to wagon travel. This is Mr.
Theodore Carile and Mr. James Worth, representatives of the territorial family court. Liza's stomach dropped. Family court? That meant only one thing.
Someone was challenging her place here, claiming she had no legal right to these children. What's this about? Bose's voice was level, but Eliza could see the tension in his shoulders. Mr. Carile, the older of the two officials, stepped forward.