The hearing was scheduled for Monday.
That gave Jonah four days.
Maeve soon discovered that four days were enough for a determined man to poison an entire town.
By Friday morning, people were whispering that Gideon had kidnapped the twins.
By afternoon, the story had changed.
Now Gideon had supposedly abducted Ellen too.
By Saturday, somebody claimed Maeve was being held against her will in his cabin.
That last rumor brought Sheriff Wade Mercer to Margaret Bell's boarding house.
Maeve met him in the parlor.
He removed his hat.
“Miss Callahan.”
“Maeve.”
“All right. Maeve. I need to ask whether you're staying with Gideon Reed by choice.”
“Yes.”
“Did Amos Callahan sell you to him?”
Maeve considered.
“My uncle believed he did.”
Sheriff Mercer looked uncomfortable.
“And Reed?”
“Gideon believed he was hiring someone to keep house.”
“For two mules?”
“He makes poor business decisions.”
The sheriff almost smiled.
“So you're free to leave?”
“Yes.”
“Has he ever prevented you?”
“No.”
“Threatened you?”
“No.”
“Harmed you?”
“No.”
“Then that rumor can die.”
Maeve folded her arms.
“Rumors rarely die because somebody gives them facts.”
Mercer put on his hat.
“No. But sometimes they get buried.”
After he left, Gideon appeared from the hallway.
“You didn't have to defend me.”
“I wasn't defending you.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“I was telling the truth.”
“That sounded suspiciously like defending.”
“Don't become unbearable.”
“I'll try.”
Maeve smiled despite herself.
Their eyes remained locked a second too long.
She looked away first.
Something had been growing between them.
Neither named it.
Perhaps because naming things made them vulnerable.
Perhaps because Maeve was eighteen and had only recently discovered what freedom felt like.
Gideon seemed aware of that.
He never cornered her.
Never flirted crudely.
Never treated the exchange with Amos as giving him any claim over her.
If anything, he kept too much distance.
And that distance made Maeve trust him more.
Sunday night, the twins could not sleep.
Maeve found them beneath the table.
They had not hidden there for weeks.
She crawled underneath.
“What are we doing?”
“Hiding,” Toby said.
“Obviously.”
Tess whispered, “Judge takes us?”
“Maybe the judge asks questions.”
“Then takes us?”
Maeve's throat tightened.
“I don't know.”
Toby studied her.
Adults had lied to him too often.
Maeve refused.
“I won't tell you something is certain when it isn't.”
His small face fell.
“But I can tell you something else.”
“What?”
“You'll never face any of it alone.”
Tess crawled into her lap.
Toby leaned against her shoulder.
They stayed beneath the table until both children fell asleep.
Gideon found them there.
He crouched.
“Need help?”
Maeve looked at the sleeping twins.
“You take Toby.”
Gideon carefully lifted him.
Maeve carried Tess.
They placed them in bed.
When Maeve turned, Gideon was watching her.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“People say nothing when they mean something.”
He looked toward the twins.
“They love you.”
Maeve swallowed.
“I love them.”
“I know.”
She expected him to walk away.
Instead he remained.
“What happens after tomorrow?” Maeve asked.
“If we win?”
“Yes.”
“I take them home.”
“I meant us.”
Gideon's face changed.
Maeve's pulse quickened.
“You're free,” he said softly. “Always were.”
“I didn't ask whether I'm free.”
He looked down.
Maeve had never seen such a large man appear so uncertain.
“I don't know what you want.”
“Neither do I.”
That was the truth.
She stepped closer.
“But I know I don't want to return to Amos.”
“You won't.”
“I don't want to become someone's property again.”
“You won't.”
“And I don't want Toby and Tess to lose another person.”
Gideon's eyes met hers.
“They won't lose you unless you choose to go.”
Maeve breathed.
“And if I choose to stay?”
His answer was barely audible.
“Then you stay.”
It was not a declaration.
Not yet.
But it was enough.
Monday arrived cold and bright.
The hearing took place in Red Creek's small courthouse.
Nearly half the town attended.
People loved justice when it resembled entertainment.
Judge Edwin Crowley sat behind a high wooden bench.
Jonah had hired an attorney from Helena.
Gideon had no attorney.
Reverend Harper had helped prepare their statements.
Maeve sat behind Gideon with the twins.
Jonah sat across the aisle.
He wore a clean black coat.
Respectable.
That seemed deliberate.
Cruel men rarely arrived in court looking cruel.
His attorney spoke first.
He described Jonah as a grieving widower.
A father deprived of his children by an unstable brother-in-law.
A man who had suffered misunderstandings.
Maeve watched Jonah dab his eyes with a handkerchief.
She wanted to throw something.
Then Gideon testified.
He did not embellish.
He admitted fighting Jonah.
Admitted taking the twins after Ellen died.
Admitted he had no formal guardianship order.
Jonah's lawyer smiled.
“Mr. Reed, did my client ever authorize you to keep his children permanently?”
“No.”
“So you simply decided?”
“My sister asked.”
“But your sister is deceased.”
Gideon's hands tightened.
“Yes.”
“No further questions.”
Margaret Bell testified.
She described Ellen arriving at her boarding house with a bruised cheek two years earlier.
Reverend Harper testified that Ellen had asked him how to protect her children.
Then came the letter.
Jonah's attorney challenged it.
Judge Crowley examined the signatures.
He questioned both witnesses.
Their stories matched.
For the first time, confidence left Jonah's face.
Then Maeve was called.
She had not expected it.
Jonah's attorney apparently believed she would help them.
“Miss Callahan, how did you arrive at Mr. Reed's home?”
Maeve looked at the judge.
“My uncle exchanged my household labor for two draft mules.”
Murmurs filled the room.
“And Mr. Reed accepted?”
“Yes.”
“So you were effectively purchased?”
“That's what Uncle Amos intended.”
“And yet you describe Mr. Reed as a suitable guardian for children?”
“Yes.”
The attorney smiled.
“Why?”
“Because intention matters.”
“Explain.”
“My uncle intended to sell a person. Gideon believed he was securing help for a household. The first time I asked whether I could leave, he told me I could.”
“But you haven't.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Maeve looked at Toby and Tess.
“Because I chose not to.”
The attorney shifted.
“Did you know Mr. Reed had neglected these children?”
Gideon went pale.
Maeve paused.
It was the dangerous question because it contained truth.
The cabin had been filthy.
The twins had been hungry.
Lying would destroy everything.
“Yes.”
A murmur spread.
Jonah smiled.
The attorney moved closer.
“They were malnourished?”
“Yes.”
“Dirty?”
“Yes.”
“Living in dangerous conditions?”
“Yes.”
Gideon lowered his head.
The attorney turned toward the judge.
“No further—”
“But,” Maeve said.
The attorney frowned.
“I didn't ask—”
Judge Crowley raised one hand.
“Let her finish.”
Maeve swallowed.
“Gideon neglected the house because he was grieving. He did not know how to care for children after losing his sister. That is different from deliberately hurting them.”
She looked at Jonah.
“When Toby first met me, he bit me.”
The courtroom stirred.
Maeve pulled back her sleeve.
Faint semicircular scars remained.
“He bit because when my hand moved, he expected to be struck.”
Jonah stopped smiling.
Maeve continued.
“Tess is afraid of closed doors. Toby hides food. Both children become terrified when they hear their father's voice.”
Jonah's attorney objected.
Judge Crowley overruled.
Maeve looked directly at the judge.
“I don't know everything that happened before I arrived. But children tell the truth with their bodies long before they can explain it with words.”
Silence filled the courtroom.
Then Toby stood.
“Mama Maeve?”
Maeve turned.
The judge stared.
Jonah's face darkened.
Toby walked toward her.
Maeve crouched.
“What is it?”
He looked at the judge.
“I got something.”
He reached inside his coat.
From the lining, he pulled a folded piece of paper.
Gideon stood.
“What is that?”
Toby handed it to Maeve.
“I took it.”
“When?”
“When Papa came cellar.”
Maeve unfolded the page.
Her heart stopped.
It was the missing deed.
Jonah had stolen it from Gideon's cabin.
But Toby had stolen it back.
The boy had hidden it inside the torn lining of his old coat and apparently forgotten—or been too frightened—to tell anyone.
Judge Crowley ordered the sheriff to take the document.
Jonah's attorney went white.
The deed established Ellen's ownership.
More importantly, written across the back was a note signed by Jonah himself months before Ellen's death.
Received against debt: land to transfer upon Ellen Pierce's signature.
But Ellen's signature was absent.
Jonah had attempted to pledge property he did not own.
Sheriff Mercer looked at him.
Jonah rose suddenly.
“This is ridiculous.”
“Sit down,” the judge ordered.
“You're going to take my children because of a woman's letter and a frightened brat?”
Toby flinched.
That single word destroyed the respectable mask.
Jonah realized it too late.
Judge Crowley's face hardened.
“Mr. Pierce, sit down.”
Jonah stepped toward Toby.
Gideon moved.
So did Sheriff Mercer.
Jonah reached inside his coat.
Mercer slammed him against the table.
A small pistol fell to the floor.
Screams erupted.
Maeve grabbed the twins.
Gideon kicked the weapon away.
Within seconds Jonah was handcuffed.
His carefully constructed grief vanished.
“You think this changes anything?” he shouted. “They're mine!”
Tess buried her face in Maeve's dress.
Judge Crowley stared down from the bench.
“No, Mr. Pierce.”
His voice was cold.
“Children are not property.”
Maeve felt those words inside her chest.
Children are not property.
Neither are women, she thought.
Neither was she.
The hearing ended two hours later.
Temporary guardianship was granted to Gideon pending formal review.
Jonah was held on weapons charges and for investigation into fraud concerning Ellen's land.
Outside the courthouse, Toby looked up.
“Do we go home?”
Gideon crouched.
“Yes.”
“Our home?”
Gideon's face broke into a smile.
“Our home.”
Tess looked at Maeve.
“You too?”
Maeve looked toward Gideon.
Then at the two children.
“Yes.”
She realized she meant it.
“Yes, sweetheart. Me too.”