Someone else’s.
She took the ledger downstairs.
Jonah was in the kitchen repairing a cabinet hinge.
He looked up.
“What is it?”
Ruth placed the receipt on the table.
“I think Vernon lied.”
Jonah read it.
His face hardened.
“About the debt?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe more.”
She turned the ledger toward him.
“Samuel carried freight for Vernon.”
“Feed.”
“Dry goods.”
“Equipment.”
“Sometimes cattle paperwork.”
Jonah looked at the crossed-out lines.
“Can you read those?”
“Some.”
Ruth moved the lamp closer.
“These are wagon weights.”
“These dates match three of your missing cattle counts.”
Jonah’s eyes lifted.
Ruth continued.
“If someone moved cattle through Willow Ford at night, they could avoid the main bridge.”
“No toll keeper.”
“No town road.”
“Straight west.”
Jonah leaned back.
“Where?”
“Vernon’s stock pens.”
The kitchen went quiet.
Jonah stared at the ledger.
Then at Ruth.
“Samuel knew?”
“I don’t know.”
Her voice broke slightly.
“I don’t know what he knew.”
Jonah heard it.
He did not push.
Instead:
“Ben rides with me tomorrow.”
“Where?”
“Willow Ford.”
Ruth shook her head.
“No.”
Jonah frowned.
“No?”
“I’m coming.”
“Mrs. Alden.”
“It is my land.”
“It was Samuel’s ledger.”
“If someone used the crossing, I know the trail better than either of you.”
Jonah stared.
Ruth folded her arms.
“Do you want my knowledge only when it is convenient?”
That landed.
Jonah exhaled slowly.
“No.”
“Then I’m coming.”
The next morning, Jonah gave her one of Mary’s old riding cloaks.
Ruth stared at it.
“I cannot take this.”
“You’re borrowing it.”
She looked at the dark wool.
It smelled faintly of cedar.
Nothing else remained.
Ruth understood the weight of the gesture.
“Thank you.”
He nodded.
Willow Ford was smaller than Jonah expected.
Sixteen acres bordered the river.
Cottonwoods stood along the bank.
A narrow meadow opened between rocky slopes.
The crossing itself looked harmless.
Shallow water.
Gravel bottom.
Good access.
Too good.
Ben dismounted first.
“There.”