Three days passed before Clara was strong enough to travel.
Ethan wanted to wait longer.
Clara refused.
"Every day we wait gives Gerald another day to find that box."
"He doesn't know where it is."
"He may know there is one."
Ethan looked toward Lily sleeping in a basket beside the stove.
"And you're willing to take newborns into town?"
"No."
That stopped him.
Clara continued.
"I'm going. They're staying here."
"With whom?"
"You."
Ethan blinked.
Clara almost smiled.
"You look terrified."
"I've faced bears."
"Babies are smaller."
"Bears don't require feeding every two hours."
"I'll prepare enough."
Ethan stared at her.
"You trust me with them?"
Clara's expression softened.
"You crossed nine miles of snow carrying all three of us."
She looked toward the twins.
"I trusted you before I knew your name."
Ethan had no answer.
They compromised.
Clara would remain home the first day while Ethan rode into town to find the old schoolhouse.
He returned before dark.
"It's still there."
"And the box?"
"Didn't look."
"Why?"
"Because Gerald had two men watching the street."
Clara frowned.
"He suspects something."
"He suspects me."
The following morning, Victor arrived alone.
Ethan met him outside.
Clara watched from the window.
After several minutes, Ethan brought him in.
Victor looked worse than before.
His cheek was bruised.
Clara noticed immediately.
"Gerald?"
Victor ignored the question.
"He knows about the schoolhouse."
Ethan's jaw tightened.
"How?"
"He found one of Thomas's old notebooks."
"When?"
"Yesterday."
"What did it say?"
"Only a reference. 'Schoolhouse. E.C.' Gerald assumes E.C. means you."
"It does," Clara said.
Victor looked at the babies.
His shame returned.
"I need to tell you something else."
Clara waited.
Victor removed a folded document from his coat.
"I took this from Gerald's desk."
Ethan opened it.
A territorial land deed.
Jacob Whitmore's name appeared at the top.
Below it, several parcels.
Ethan read faster.
His expression changed.
"What?"
He handed it to Clara.
She struggled with the legal language.
"Tell me."
"Father never owned the whole ranch."
Victor nodded.
"Thomas found the original records."
Ethan pointed.
"Half belonged to my mother. After her death, her half went to me."
Clara looked between them.
"And Thomas's portion?"
"The remainder was divided among Father's sons."
"Meaning?"
"Gerald controls less than half of what he claims."
Victor swallowed.
"And Thomas added a provision to his own will six months before he died."
Clara froze.
"Six months?"
That meant while Thomas was still alive.
Before the accident.
"What provision?"
Victor looked at the twins.
"If his child survived him, all his property transferred directly to the child at birth."
Clara's heart pounded.
"Children."
"Yes."
"Then why kill us?"
Ethan answered.
"Because until they were born, Gerald could challenge the unborn inheritance."
Victor nodded.
"But once they were alive—"
"They became owners."
Clara stared at her daughters.
Two sleeping newborn girls.
Gerald hadn't seen babies.
He'd seen legal obstacles.
"How much?"
Victor took a breath.
"With Thomas's share combined with Ethan's mother's share?"
He looked at Ethan.
"More than Gerald has."
Clara felt sick.
"So he tried to murder three people for land."
"Land, cattle, water rights, timber."
Ethan's expression turned grim.
"Men have killed for less."
Victor sat heavily.
"I didn't know."
Clara stared at him.
"You knew enough."
He nodded.
"Yes."
No excuses.
That mattered, though Clara wasn't ready to forgive him.
Victor continued.
"Gerald told me we were taking you to relatives after you became hysterical."
"You carried rope."
"I thought he was restraining you."
"And when he tied me to the post?"
Victor closed his eyes.
"I should have stopped him."
"Yes."
"I didn't."
"No."
Victor looked at her.
"I don't expect forgiveness. But I'll testify."
Ethan studied him.
"Against Gerald?"
"Yes."
"He's your brother."
Victor's laugh was hollow.
"So are you."
That evening they made a plan.
The territorial judge would be in Willow Creek two days later.
If they could retrieve Thomas's evidence and reach the judge, Gerald's control of the estate could be challenged.
They went to the schoolhouse after midnight.
Clara insisted on accompanying Ethan.
Victor stayed with the twins.
Ethan objected.
Clara won.
The abandoned schoolhouse stood at the western edge of town, half buried in snow.
They entered through a side window.
Inside smelled of dust and old wood.
Moonlight cut across broken desks.
"Where?" Clara whispered.
"Thomas said beneath the floor."
They searched.
Near the teacher's desk, Ethan found a loose plank.
He pried it up.
Beneath it sat a cedar box.
Clara's hands shook as she inserted the brass key.
It turned.
Inside were deeds.
Letters.
Bank records.
And a sealed envelope addressed to Clara.
She opened it.
My dearest Clara,
If you have found this, then I failed to return for it myself.
I discovered Father falsified transfers after Ethan left. Gerald knows. He helped conceal them after Father's death.
I also discovered the fire blamed on Ethan was not Ethan's doing.
Clara looked up.
Ethan had stopped breathing.
She continued reading.
Gerald started that fire as a boy while smoking in the hayloft. Father knew. He used the accident to force Ethan out because Ethan's claim stood between Father and the northern acreage.
Ethan turned away.
For twenty-two years, he had carried blame for a crime Jacob knew he had not committed.
Clara touched his arm.
"Ethan."
He stared through the broken window.
"Keep reading."
Thomas's letter continued.
I tried to confront Gerald. He threatened to destroy the records. I moved them here.
If something happens to me, I do not want you blaming yourself.
Protect our child.
Find Ethan.
Tell him I should have come sooner.
And tell him I never believed what Father said about him.
Your husband,
Thomas.
Clara was crying when she finished.
Ethan stood completely still.
Then a floorboard creaked behind them.
They turned.
Gerald stood inside the doorway.
A pistol in his hand.
"I knew Thomas would make this difficult."