On seventh evening, Eliza stood beside window.
Snow reflected sunset.
Caleb came in carrying wood.
She turned.
“I need to ask you something.”
He stacked logs.
“Ask.”
“Do you have family?”
His hands stopped.
“Had.”
“Parents?”
“Dead.”
“Siblings?”
Caleb resumed stacking.
“One brother.”
Eliza’s face tightened.
“Older?”
“Younger.”
“What happened?”
Caleb looked at her.
“That curiosity go both ways?”
“Yes.”
“Then answer mine first.”
She lowered eyes.
“The pendant.”
Caleb waited.
Slowly, Eliza reached beneath blouse and pulled out silver chain.
At end hung a small oval medallion.
She opened her palm.
Caleb dropped the piece of wood in his hand.
The crest engraved on pendant was simple.
A pine tree beneath two crossed horseshoes.
Above it, three stars.
Morgan.
His grandfather had created it as mark on family cattle papers and saddles.
Caleb had not seen it in years.
Except on one object.
His brother’s pendant.
His brother had worn it when he disappeared.
Caleb crossed room.
“Where did you get that?”
Eliza held chain tightly.
“Caleb—”
“Where?”
Her eyes filled.
“Their father gave it to me.”
The room became silent except fire.
Caleb stared at twins.
Then at pendant.
“No.”
Eliza swallowed.
“His name was Samuel Morgan.”
Caleb backed away.
“No.”
“Caleb.”
“My brother is dead.”
Eliza did not move.
“He died eight years ago.”
“No.”
“I watched his coffin go into ground.”
“There was no body.”
Caleb’s head snapped toward her.
“How do you know?”
“Because Samuel told me.”
The floor seemed to shift.
Caleb grabbed edge of table.
“My brother told you.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
Caleb stared.
Eliza’s next words arrived softly.
“Samuel was alive until three weeks ago.”
Caleb crossed room so fast Eliza flinched.
He stopped himself instantly.
“Where?”
His voice broke.
“Where was he?”
“Fort Benton.”
“What name?”
“He used Hart.”
“Your name?”
“My husband’s name.”
Caleb’s eyes moved to twins.
Eliza nodded.
“Samuel was my husband.”
Caleb turned away.
He could not breathe correctly.
Samuel.
Alive.
Eight years.
Alive.
Married.
Children.
Dead only three weeks.
Caleb pressed both hands against table.
Eliza spoke carefully.
“He talked about you.”
“Don't.”
“He did.”
“Don't tell me that.”
“Why?”
“Because if he talked about me, he knew I was here.”
“Yes.”
Caleb turned.
“And he never came.”
Eliza’s face filled with grief.
“He believed you hated him.”
Caleb laughed once.
A terrible sound.
“Hated him?”
“He said last thing you told him was never come back.”
Caleb remembered.
Of course he remembered.
Eight years earlier.
Samuel had stolen three hundred dollars from ranch account.
Caleb discovered it.
They fought.
Samuel claimed money was to save someone.
Would not say whom.
Caleb accused him of gambling again.
Samuel punched him.
Caleb hit back.