It had accidentally placed her on land her uncle wanted.

And now that land threatened something larger.

Chapter Thirteen — The Railroad Map

Back at the cabin, the rancher's wife spread documents across the table.

The cattleman joined them reluctantly.

So did the blacksmith.

The wounded stranger remained on the cot.

A map emerged from the oilcloth packet.

The wife stared at it.

“I never understood this.”

The rancher leaned over.

“What?”

“My uncle kept discussing western expansion.”

She pointed.

A proposed rail spur crossed Montana.

Not an official route.

A speculative plan.

It passed directly through the valley.

The cattleman's face changed.

“My southern pasture.”

The rancher followed the line.

“And my spring.”

The wife looked at another document.

“Water rights.”

The blacksmith whistled.

“If a railroad comes through, whoever controls those springs controls every camp, construction team, and cattle shipment for miles.”

The rancher looked toward his wife.

“How much would the land be worth?”

“Not sixty thousand.”

She paused.

“Much more.”

The wounded stranger spoke.

“Your uncle has been buying parcels under different company names for two years.”

The wife turned.

“You knew?”

“I carried letters.”

“You knew all of this and still followed me?”

The stranger looked ashamed.

“I needed money.”

“For what?”

“My family.”

“That excuse gets used often.”

He looked away.

The rancher understood the tone.

She was not merely accusing the stranger.

She was remembering every man who had made practical calculations using her life.

Her uncle.

Agency clerk.

Now perhaps even her husband.

The rancher folded the map.

“We take these to Helena.”

The wife shook her head.

“No.”

“Why?”

“My uncle has people there.”

“The sheriff—”

“Could be one.”

“Then federal marshal.”

“Could be bought.”

The cattleman laughed humorlessly.

“Welcome west.”

The wife looked at the map.

“We need proof of the forged sales.”

“How?”

“Original trust ledger.”

“Where?”

“Chicago.”

The rancher shook his head.

“That's months away.”

“No.”

She looked at the wounded stranger.

“My uncle travels with copies.”

The stranger's face changed.

The wife noticed.

“He's here.”

Silence.

The rancher stepped forward.

“Where?”

The stranger closed his eyes.

“Helena.”

The rancher reached for his coat.

His wife caught his wrist.

“No.”

He looked at her.

She said, “This time, we go together.”

Chapter Fourteen — The Journey to Helena

The rancher built a reinforced sleigh.

His wife inspected it.

“Ugly.”

“Strong.”

“Those are not mutually exclusive.”

“They are in this case.”

The blacksmith laughed.

The rancher ignored him.

The journey took two days.

They stayed one night at a stage station.

People stared at the wife.

The rancher did not punch anyone.

She noticed.

“You’re growing.”

“I’m tired.”

“I'll accept either.”

The second day brought clear skies.

Montana spread around them in impossible distance.

Snow-covered peaks.

Blue shadow.