He had turned away women who wanted families. He had stopped attending christenings. He had convinced himself that the empty rooms in his ranch house were a consequence he had to endure rather than a loss he was permitted to mourn.
And now his wife was carrying a child.
The doctor who had confirmed her pregnancy had told her that the original diagnosis might have been a lie.
His brother was standing outside the door, desperate to stop him from reading the proof.
Samuel slipped the letter into his coat pocket.
Then he walked toward the front room.
“Samuel,” Anna whispered.
He paused.
“If Thomas is involved,” she said, “please don’t let him make you believe that you are the one who has done something wrong.”
Samuel looked at his wife for a long moment.
Then he opened the door.
Thomas stood on the porch with snow melting across the shoulders of his dark wool coat. At thirty-eight, he was still handsome in the easy way that had always made strangers trust him. He had their father’s blue eyes, their mother’s straight nose, and the broad smile that once persuaded Samuel to lend him money even when Samuel knew he would never see it again.
Tonight, there was no smile.
Thomas glanced past him into the house.
“Where’s Anna?”
“Inside.”
“Good. I need to speak with you privately.”
“You can speak here.”
Thomas’s eyes moved to the pocket where Samuel had put the envelope.
“Did she give you something?”
Samuel did not answer.
Thomas took a step forward.
“Listen to me. Dr. Harris has been confused lately. His health isn’t what it was, and he’s been making accusations that could ruin innocent people. Whatever he told Anna, you need to put it aside until we can sort this out properly.”
“Why would you know what Harris told Anna?”
Thomas stopped.
It was a small pause.
A fraction of a second.
But Samuel had spent his life studying men who worked cattle. He knew the difference between hesitation caused by uncertainty and hesitation caused by fear.
Thomas had not come to ask a question.
He had come to stop an answer.
“You’re upset,” Thomas said. “I understand that. But you need to think carefully before you let a frightened woman put ideas in your head.”
Samuel’s expression changed.
“Be careful.”
“I’m trying to help you.”
“Then answer me.”
“Answer what?”
“Why are you so afraid of a letter you claim to know nothing about?”
Thomas looked toward the darkening road.
For the first time since Samuel had opened the door, he appeared to have no prepared response.
Then his face hardened.