He had seen flames from five miles away.
“Where’s the deed?”
“Safe.”
“Where?”
The Younger Sister pointed toward the schoolhouse.
The Fiancée went pale.
“The letter.”
“What?”
“The letter is in my room.”
The Younger Sister ran.
The Cowboy grabbed her.
“No.”
She fought him.
“Let go!”
“The roof could go.”
“My mother’s letter—”
“Paper is not worth your life.”
“It proves—”
“Helena has another record.”
“Not the letter!”
She twisted free.
Then stopped.
He was right.
The realization hurt.
For once, she let something burn.
Neighbors formed a bucket line.
The barn was lost.
The house survived.
At dawn, the sheriff found kerosene behind the south wall.
Arson.
Everyone suspected the father.
No proof.
Until one hired man confessed.
The same man who had followed him to the stable confrontation.
He had been promised fifty dollars.
The father was arrested.
Red Hollow stopped whispering and started staring openly.
The hearing happened two days later.
The Younger Sister entered the courthouse in dark blue.
No apron.
The Cowboy noticed.
So did she.
The Fiancée sat on one side.
The Cowboy on the other.
Not too close.
The Younger Sister had not yet given him permission to become anything more.
He respected that.
The judge reviewed deeds.
Witness signatures.
Helena records.
The mother’s letter.
The recorder testified.
The old schoolteacher testified.
The hired man testified about the fire.
Then the father spoke.
He did not deny altering the deed anymore.
Instead he defended it.
“I had two daughters.”
The courtroom listened.
“One could make an advantageous marriage.”
The Fiancée’s mouth tightened.
“The other…”
He looked toward the Younger Sister.
Silence.
The judge said, “Finish.”
The father swallowed.
“The other required protection.”
The Younger Sister stood.
Her attorney touched her arm.
She shook her head.
The judge allowed her to speak.
“What did you think would happen to me?”
Her father looked tired.
“After I died?”
“Yes.”
“Your sister would care for you.”
“And if she refused?”
“She would not.”
“If her husband refused?”
He looked toward the Cowboy.
“Then the marriage contract would ensure—”
The Younger Sister laughed.
There it was.
Her father had tried solving her future by removing every choice from it.
“Did you ever ask what I wanted?”
He stared.
“I knew.”
“No.”
Her voice shook.