A wide main street ran between brick and timber storefronts.
There was a general store.
A blacksmith.
Two boarding houses.
A bank.
A modest church.
And a county office building that seemed to lean slightly toward the street.
Horses stood tied along the hitching rails.
Wagons carried supplies toward surrounding ranches.
And several men gathered outside the saloon discussing livestock prices.
Clara attracted attention immediately.
Her carriage had been carefully prepared for her comfort, and Nathaniel helped coordinate her arrival without making a spectacle of it.
But people stared anyway.
A few whispered.
Others stopped walking.
One woman near the general store looked at Clara's enormous figure and muttered something unkind to her companion.
Nathaniel heard it.
His face hardened.
He turned sharply.
Clara gently touched his arm.
“Let it go.”
He looked toward her.
“Clara—”
She smiled sadly.
“Nathaniel, if we stop for every foolish person, we'll never reach the courthouse.”
He stared.
Then sighed.
“You shouldn't have to listen to that.”
She looked toward the woman.
Then back at him.
“No.”
For a moment, her expression became firm.
“But I would rather spend my energy proving something useful than persuading a stranger to become decent.”
Nathaniel nodded slowly.
He offered his arm.
She accepted it.
Together, they entered the county office.
The clerk was a thin, nervous man named Benjamin Lowell.
He had pale hair, wire spectacles, and fingers stained with ink.
When Clara asked about the 1861 agreement, he frowned.
“Records from that period are difficult.”
She nodded.
“I expected as much.”
“Several early documents were indexed under different administrative arrangements.”
“I understand.”
He examined her references.
Then adjusted his spectacles.
“Where did you find these?”
Clara explained that they came from later property records.
Lowell studied them carefully.
For a moment, his expression changed.
“Ah.”
Nathaniel leaned forward.
“What?”
The clerk looked toward the page.
“This references the old Mill Crossing Register.”
Clara felt her heart accelerate.
“Is that available?”
Lowell hesitated.
“Not in the ordinary files.”
Nathaniel frowned.
“Why?”
The clerk sighed.
“Some early records were transferred during a reorganization. Others were recopied. A few indexes were damaged.”
Clara considered.
“Are the originals preserved elsewhere?”
Lowell looked toward a narrow hallway.
Then lowered his voice.
“There is an older storage collection.”
Nathaniel stared.
“Can we examine it?”
The clerk hesitated again.
“I'd need to request authorization.”