Her mother survived him by several years, then died from illness when Josephine was still a child.
After that, an aunt raised her in Briar Hollow.
The aunt had preserved some of Thomas's papers, including the survey he'd been preparing before his death.
For years, Josephine knew little about the documents.
She understood they concerned old land disputes, but the details meant nothing to a child.
Then her aunt died.
Josephine inherited the trunk.
Inside were maps, correspondence, and records that suggested Thomas had discovered irregularities in the Calder claims.
She spent years trying to understand them.
At first, she approached lawyers and clerks in nearby towns.
Some dismissed her.
Others asked for fees she couldn't afford.
A few suggested that documents from twenty years earlier were unlikely to matter.
But Josephine persisted.
Eventually, she discovered a reference to Hiram Walker.
My name appeared in one of her father's notes.
Not as a land speculator.
As a witness.
A man who might know what happened during the fire near Red Willow.
She began searching for me.
The trail led through old ranch records, freight accounts, and people who remembered my work on cattle drives.
Then she learned I'd settled in the mountains.
She hired a reinforced winter sleigh and traveled south.
Her intention had been to reach the lower settlement before the worst weather arrived, then arrange a safer final journey to my cabin.
But the storm closed the road.
The hired driver refused to continue beyond the last supply station.
And Josephine, convinced another delay might cost her the opportunity to find me, made the dangerous decision to attempt the final approach using Belle and the sleigh.
That was how she ended up in the ravine.
She hadn't wandered into the wilderness by accident.
She'd been searching for me.
I sat with the map spread across the table.
For several minutes, neither of us spoke.
Finally, I looked toward Josephine.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
She lowered her eyes.
"I wanted to."
I waited.
She continued.
"When you first brought me here, I was frightened and barely conscious. Then you told me about Eliza, and I realized the records might bring back things you'd spent years trying to survive."
I frowned.
"That should've been my decision."
She nodded immediately.
"You're right."
The simple agreement surprised me.
She didn't argue.
Didn't attempt to justify every choice.
Instead, she looked toward me with tears in her eyes.