Edwin stepped toward her.
Harlan moved.
Josephine raised one hand.
Harlan stopped.
She noticed.
So did Edwin.
Josephine looked at her father.
“You will never tell me to become smaller again.”
Edwin’s eyes moved over her body contemptuously.
“Smaller?”
He laughed once.
Cruel.
“Bit late for that.”
The courtroom corridor went silent.
Josephine felt the old wound open.
Instinct demanded she shrink.
Cover herself.
Apologize for taking up space.
Then Harlan spoke.
“Say another word about her body.”
His voice was quiet.
Edwin looked at him.
“What?”
Harlan stepped forward.
“Go ahead.”
Josephine could feel the anger radiating from him.
“Say another word about her body and discover exactly how much restraint I’ve learned this month.”
“Harlan.”
Josephine touched his forearm.
He stopped immediately.
She looked at her father.
Edwin expected humiliation to finish the job.
Instead Josephine smiled.
“You know what’s strange?”
He frowned.
“My size was useful whenever you needed work done.”
His expression changed.
“You never complained I was too large when sacks needed carrying. You never complained when I stood twelve hours over your stove. You never complained when I hauled water or split kindling after you hurt your shoulder.”
Josephine lifted her chin.
“You only called my body a burden when you needed me to believe no one else could want me.”
Edwin went pale.
The truth had found him.
Josephine turned to Margaret.
“What do we do?”
“We file an emergency injunction.”
“Do it.”
Her father grabbed her wrist.
Harlan moved faster than thought.
Josephine moved first.
She ripped her arm free.
“Never touch me like that again.”
Edwin stared at her.
Perhaps for the first time, he saw not his daughter.
Not his dependent.
A grown woman.
A property owner.
Someone who could leave.
Someone who had.
The injunction was filed that afternoon.
The mineral transfer froze before the mining consortium could complete payment.
Then the investigation began.
Preacher Pike folded quickly.
Men who call themselves righteous often become remarkably practical when prison enters the conversation.
Within a week, Pike admitted Edwin had instructed him to disguise the mineral authorization among the marriage documents.
In exchange for his testimony, prosecutors considered reduced charges.
Josephine wanted him punished.
Margaret advised patience.
“Truth first.”
Josephine reluctantly agreed.
Edwin fought everything.
He claimed Josephine lacked the mental capacity to manage land.
The insult became his greatest mistake.
Because capacity required examination.
Josephine sat before two physicians, a magistrate, and a financial examiner.
She answered every question.
Then produced eleven years of household ledgers she had maintained for her father.
Receipts.
Crop estimates.
Debt schedules.
Winter provisions.
Loan calculations.
The financial examiner read them for twenty minutes.
Then looked at Edwin.
“She kept these?”
Edwin said nothing.
The man looked again.
“These are better than half the merchant accounts in town.”
Josephine folded her hands.
Large hands.
Steady hands.
The guardianship argument collapsed.
Then came the mineral survey.
The copper existed.
Not in quantities that would instantly create a fortune, but enough to make the western portion of Josephine’s property extremely valuable.
The mining consortium returned with another offer.
This time, they spoke directly to Josephine.
She refused the first contract.
The second.
And the third.
Harlan attended meetings only when she asked.
He never answered for her.
Once, a company representative turned to him and said, “Surely you can persuade your wife.”