Did your wife tell you she inherited quite a fortune? Money that should have gone to settling her father's debts, debts to my family, among others. I could make a legal claim. Try it, Sam Fletcher said, stepping around the corner of the house where he'd been listening. I'd love to argue that case in court.
A married man trying to extort money from his cousin using threats and blackmail. The territorial judge would find it very interesting. Charles spun around. Who are you? The family lawyer.
Also a witness to everything you just said. Sam smiled pleasantly. I believe you were just leaving. Charles looked between them all. Clara standing firm, Ethan protective beside her.
Sophie clinging to Clara's hand. Sam with his legal authority. His scheme had depended on finding Clara isolated and vulnerable. Instead, he'd found her surrounded by family, even if it wasn't the family she'd been born to. "This isn't over," he said finally.
"Yes, it is," Clara said. "If you come near me or my family again, if you spread one more lie about my father, if you so much as send a letter, I'll file charges for harassment and extortion. Sam has already drawn up the papers." Charles's face went white, then red. Without another word, he stalked back to his carriage, shouting at the driver to leave immediately. As the dust settled behind the departing carriage, Clara's knees gave out.
Ethan caught her, guiding her to the porch swing while Sophie climbed into her lap. "You were so brave, Mama Clara," Sophie said. "Like when you stood up to Mr. Morrison." "I didn't feel brave," Clara admitted. Bravest thing I've ever seen," Ethan said, sitting beside them. "Facing down your past like that." "Our past," Clara corrected.
"He threatened our family, our life here. That made it easier to be strong." Sam cleared his throat. "If you need me to follow through on any legal action, I don't think he'll be back," Clara said. "Charles is a coward at heart. He only attacks when he thinks he'll win easily." After Sam left and Sophie went to help Molly with dinner, Ethan and Clara sat alone on the swing, watching the sun sink toward the mountains.
"You called us your family," Ethan said quietly. "Aren't you?" "I suppose we are legally anyway. Is that all?" The question slipped out before Clara could stop it. Ethan was quiet for a long moment, then he stood, holding out his hand. "Come with me." He led her to the small cemetery on the hill behind the house where Margaret lay beneath a simple stone marker.
Clara had avoided this place, feeling like an intruder. Now Ethan drew her forward until they stood before the grave. Margaret, he said quietly. This is Clara. I think you'd like her.