“And you still walked toward him?”
She looked at Brutus.
“He wasn't angry.”
Elias laughed in disbelief.
“He looked angry.”
“He looked cornered.”
“What's the difference when he weighs two thousand pounds?”
“To him?”
She met Elias's eyes.
“Everything.”
By noon, half of Silver Creek had heard the story.
By evening, Mara had supposedly wrestled the bull with her bare hands.
By the following morning, somebody claimed she had stared Brutus into submission using witchcraft.
Elias corrected no one.
He enjoyed watching Wesley Dunn become increasingly uncertain about making jokes in her presence.
The town's laughter did not disappear.
But it became quieter.
Then the bank letter arrived.
Beatrice drove to Red Willow Ranch in such a hurry that one wagon wheel briefly left the ground crossing the creek rut. Elias was repairing harness near the barn when she climbed down holding a sealed envelope.
“Read this before Gideon Voss gets here pretending concern.”
Elias opened it.
The paper inside carried his father's signature.
Twenty-two years earlier, Thomas Mercer had borrowed money from what eventually became Silver Creek Bank after a cattle partnership nearly collapsed. Elias knew the story. His father had spent six years paying the debt.
According to Gideon Voss, he had not.
The bank claimed the original note remained partially unpaid.
With accumulated interest, the amount was enough to force the sale of Red Willow Ranch.
Elias read the document twice.
Then again.
“This was settled.”
Beatrice nodded.
“I know.”
“My father paid it.”
“I know that too.”
“Then where's the release?”
Beatrice's expression told him the problem.
Nobody knew.
Mara came from the barn wiping horse liniment from her hands.
She took one look at Elias.
“What happened?”
He handed her the document.
She read it slowly.
Her expression became colder with each line.
“This signature is real?”
“Yes.”
“And the debt?”
“Paid.”
“Proof?”
“Somewhere.”
Mara looked at him.
“There is something I need to tell you.”
Elias already knew from her voice that he was not going to like it.
Beatrice glanced toward the cabin.
“I suddenly feel a profound need for coffee.”
She left them alone.
Mara removed an envelope from inside her coat.
Elias recognized it.
He had seen the same envelope tucked into her belongings during her first week but had deliberately refused to read it.
The return address belonged to a law office in Omaha.
“I did not answer your advertisement only because I wanted a husband,” Mara said.
Elias felt his stomach tighten.
“Only?”
“My mother left me land outside Grand Island.”
“How much?”
“Almost two hundred acres.”
He waited.
“My cousin Everett is contesting the will.”
“Why?”
“Because he believes it should belong to him.”