“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Kansas City.”
“You told us you were reading.”
“I was.”
“That’s all you thought worth mentioning?”
“You didn’t ask what.”
Her anger flashed.
“You let me believe you were a drifting ranch hand.”
“I am a drifting ranch hand.”
“You know legal procedure.”
“Yes.”
“You can read filings.”
“Yes.”
“What else haven’t you told us?”
The Cowboy looked at her.
“Enough.”
She stepped closer.
“Not good enough.”
He held her gaze.
“My father lost everything to a fraudulent foreclosure.”
“My mother died two years later.”
“I went to the city.”
“Worked days.”
“Studied nights.”
“Never finished formal training.”
“Couldn’t afford it.”
“But I learned land law.”
“Then?”
“I started moving.”
“Why?”
“Because staying anywhere reminded me too much of losing home.”
The Older Sister’s anger softened.
She hated that.
The Cowboy looked toward the ranch.
“I know what that paper is.”
“What?”
“Pressure.”
“He expects you to sell before the hearing.”
The Younger Sister whispered:
“Will we lose?”
The Cowboy looked at her.
“No.”
The Older Sister said:
“You cannot promise that.”
He looked back.
“No.”
“Then don’t.”
“Fine.”
He stepped toward her.
“I promise I’ll be there.”
That was somehow more powerful.
The next five days became war without guns.
Records.
Receipts.
Tax documents.
Livestock counts.
Fence repairs.
Water measurements.
Photographs.
Deed maps.
The Cowboy made lists.
The Older Sister hated lists.
Used them anyway.
The Younger Sister rode into town for copies of tax receipts.
The Cowboy inspected every boundary marker.
One was missing.
They found the original survey in the attic.
At night, all three sat around the table.
The Cowboy read legal language aloud.
The Younger Sister fell asleep once with her head on crossed arms.
The Older Sister covered her with a blanket.
Then returned to the table.
The Cowboy watched.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Looking at me like you know something.”
He smiled faintly.
“I know you’re tired.”
“So are you.”
“Yes.”
“Then sleep.”
“You first.”
“I own the bed.”
“That sounds convenient.”
The Older Sister stared.
His smile widened.
Her pulse changed.
She hated him.
Not remotely.
The Cowboy leaned back.