He stared.
“Because I was afraid you would think everything I felt was because of the property.”
Margaret laughed sadly.
“And now?”
“Now you have every reason to.”
Silence.
Wind moved dry grass.
Margaret looked at his hands.
The same hands that touched her carefully.
Worked beside her.
Carried meat.
Held ledgers.
Had also hidden truth.
People are rarely one thing.
That made forgiveness harder.
If he had been entirely cruel, she could leave easily.
He was not.
She asked:
“Did you expect me to marry you?”
“When?”
“When you placed the advertisement.”
“No.”
“Your father’s letter imagined it.”
“He imagined many things.”
“So why a marriage advertisement rather than a legal notice?”
Elias exhaled.
“That is the part I am most ashamed of.”
Margaret waited.
“I needed a wife.”
“And?”
“I knew if I wrote you directly saying you might own half a failing ranch, you might think it fraud.”
“So you lured me through marriage.”
“Yes.”
The honesty was brutal.
Margaret looked away.
“I hate that.”
“So do I.”
“No.”
“You hate being caught.”
Elias’s face changed.
Then he nodded.
“At first, maybe.”
“And now?”
“Now I hate that the best thing that ever happened to Black Hollow began with me not trusting you enough to tell the truth.”
Margaret’s eyes filled.
He did not approach.
Good.
She needed distance.
“You called me the best thing that happened to the ranch.”
“I meant to me.”
That hurt more.
Margaret looked down.
“Don’t.”
“I’m not asking you to forgive me.”
“Then what?”
“To know that part is true.”
She stood silent.
Finally:
“I am going to town.”
“Why?”
“Lawyer.”
Elias nodded.
“I’ll drive.”
“No.”
His face tightened.
“Margaret.”
“I said no.”
He stepped back.
“Fine.”
She drove herself.
The attorney in Pine Ridge was named Arthur Bell.
Small man.
Large glasses.
He examined the deed for two hours.
Then looked at Margaret.
“If authentic, you have a substantial claim.”
“How substantial?”
“Half.”
“Exactly?”
“Possibly more depending improvements and accounting.”
Margaret frowned.
“Improvements belong to Elias.”
“Not necessarily.”
“I don’t want them.”
“That may be noble, but we should establish value first.”
Margaret crossed her arms.
“I did not ask for noble.”
Bell cleared his throat.
“No.”
She continued.
“Can Elias prevent me from taking half?”
“He can litigate.”
“Will he win?”
“Uncertain.”
“Can I force sale?”
“Yes.”
Margaret’s stomach twisted.
Black Hollow.
Twenty-two men.
Winter stores.
Smokehouse.
The ranch she had just saved.
One legal action could divide it.
Or destroy it.
Bell continued.
“There is another issue.”
“What?”
“The Whitmore estate.”
Margaret looked up.
“What about it?”
“If Thomas Whitmore knew your true parentage and concealed inheritance rights, his estate may have benefited improperly.”