It frightened her.
And warmed something she thought grief had buried.
“You should go,” she whispered.
Jonah did.
That mattered too.
He never punished her for it.
Never became cold.
Never made her regret the boundary.
The next day, he behaved normally.
By evening, Ruth was almost disappointed.
Then she realized what that meant and became angry with herself.
Roundup approached.
So did Ruth’s self-imposed departure.
She counted her wages every Saturday.
Cooking.
Bookkeeping.
Additional pay for extra preserve work.
By the end of October, she had enough to rent two rooms in Red Willow through winter.
She should have felt relieved.
Instead, the thought of leaving made her stomach hurt.
Nell noticed.
“Do we have to go?”
Ruth folded laundry.
“That was always the arrangement.”
“Mr. Rourke said?”
“No.”
“You did.”
Ruth stopped.
Nell continued.
“Tom doesn't want to.”
“I know.”
“I don’t either.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Ruth looked at her daughter.
“That is different.”
“Why?”
Because adults had to protect themselves.
Because dependence was dangerous.
Because a widow who let herself believe in another home could lose another home.
Because wanting Jonah frightened her more than poverty had.
Ruth said:
“Because I am the mother.”
Nell gave her a look that said she found this answer inadequate.
Children were merciless.
The cattle case moved slowly.
Vernon denied everything.
Then two stolen animals were discovered in a holding pasture registered to one of his employees.
Brands had been altered.
Not well enough.
Jonah recognized one he had raised from a calf.
The Marshal began taking the case more seriously.
Then something worse surfaced.
Samuel’s freight ledger contained payments labeled “medicine.”
Ruth recognized the merchant.
A pharmacy supplier in Cheyenne.
The invoice described a powdered compound commonly used to kill rats in barns.
Vernon had purchased it.
Same month Samuel died.
That was not proof of murder.
Ruth knew it.
The knowledge did not stop her hands from shaking.
Jonah found her sitting alone on the porch after dark.
She held the invoice.
He sat beside her.
Neither spoke for several minutes.
Finally Ruth said:
“I keep wanting the answer to be simple.”
Jonah looked toward the yard.
“It won’t be.”
“If Vernon killed him…”
“We do not know that.”
“I know.”
Her voice broke.
“But what if Samuel helped him first?”
Jonah turned.
“What?”
“What if Caleb was right?”
“What if Samuel hauled stolen cattle?”
“What if he knew?”
“What if the man I spent twelve years defending was part of it?”
Jonah considered carefully.
“Then he did something wrong.”