But three days before the wedding, Hawthorne learned that the original document had been recovered.
A county clerk had entered information concerning the newly submitted evidence.
The legal process created records.
Records could be examined.
And Hawthorne had friends who watched closely whenever anything threatened his holdings.
When the news reached him, he became furious.
He summoned his lawyer.
Then Martin Cross, the hard-faced ranch manager who handled much of Hawthorne's less pleasant business.
For nearly an hour, they discussed the document.
The lawyer urged caution.
The instrument needed to be authenticated.
The court would examine it.
There were lawful ways to challenge its interpretation.
Hawthorne wasn't interested in patience.
He'd spent years trying to gain control of the Carter stream crossing.
If the old rights were upheld, his planned upstream expansion would become far more complicated.
He might have to abandon the diversion.
Possibly restore work already performed.
And face claims arising from interfering with the established water supply.
Worse, the original document suggested that he'd known about the rights for years.
He couldn't simply claim ignorance.
Hawthorne stood beside the window of his enormous office.
For several seconds, he stared toward the mountains.
Then he asked.
“Where is the original?”
His lawyer hesitated.
“Under controlled preservation arrangements pending the hearing.”
Hawthorne turned.
“Can it be challenged?”
“Yes.”
“Can it disappear?”
The lawyer went completely still.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then the attorney closed his folder.
“Mr. Hawthorne, I won't participate in anything improper.”
He stood.
And left.
Hawthorne watched him go.
Then turned toward Martin Cross.
His expression had become cold.
“Find out what the woman knows.”
Martin nodded.
“And if she has another copy?”
Hawthorne looked toward the darkening sky.
“Then I want to know where it is.”
He never imagined that Clara Whitmore, the extraordinarily large woman he'd dismissed as a curious addition to Carter Ranch, had already become the most important threat to his plans.
Nor did he understand that Nathaniel had stopped thinking of Clara as a practical wife long before their wedding.
She was the woman he loved.
And he was willing to protect her future even if doing so cost him the land he'd spent his life defending.
Christmas Eve arrived beneath a sky the color of pale silver.
Snow covered the mountains.
The pines stood heavy with white.