Her entire adult life had been shaped by money.
Or the lack of it.
She'd sewn clothing for wealthy women who complained about dresses that cost more than she earned in three months.
She'd worked at a boardinghouse keeping accounts.
She'd endured employers who spoke to her as though her size made her incapable of working quickly or thinking clearly.
And when her last position ended, she'd traveled west carrying thirty-seven dollars and a letter offering employment.
Now an enormous mountain man was telling her she might have inherited an interest in valuable Colorado land.
It seemed impossible.
Amily shook her head.
“Why didn't my mother tell me?”
Harlon looked toward her.
“Maybe she wanted you safe.”
She laughed bitterly.
“Safe?”
Her voice trembled.
“Three men just chased me through a blizzard.”
Harlon lowered his eyes.
Amily looked toward the old letter.
Then whispered, “I spent my whole life thinking she was ashamed of where we came from.”
His expression changed.
She continued.
“She wouldn't speak about her family. Wouldn't explain why we had no relatives nearby. Whenever I asked, she changed the subject.”
A tear slid down her cheek.
“I thought there was something wrong with us.”
Harlon moved closer.
But he didn't touch her.
“Amily.”
She looked up.
He spoke gently.
“Whatever frightened her, it wasn't you.”
The words struck deeply.
She covered her mouth.
For a moment, she couldn't stop crying.
Harlon waited quietly.
Finally, she wiped her cheeks.
Then she looked toward the open strongbox.
“Where are the rest of her papers?”
He shook his head.
“That's what my father never found.”
Amily stared.
He continued.
“We have his survey records and some correspondence. But the original Ward deed and certain probate documents were in Clara's possession.”
She looked toward the letter.
“Would those prove what happened?”
“They might establish important parts of it. Along with the county records, the survey, and witnesses.”
Harlon hesitated.
“Silas has spent years trying to find them.”
Amily's stomach tightened.
Then she remembered something.
Her carpetbag.
She had brought it into the cabin before entering the spring.
Inside were her spare clothing, a small sewing kit, and several possessions that had belonged to her mother.
She looked sharply toward Harlon.
“I need my bag.”
He glanced up.
“Why?”
“There's something inside it.”
They climbed back into the cabin.