“Father!”
Gideon collapsed into his son.
Thomas stood two feet away.
He did not know whether to move closer.
Gideon looked at him.
“I’m sorry.”
Thomas’s jaw trembled.
“For which twenty years?”
“All of them.”
Thomas laughed once.
Then knelt.
He cut Gideon’s ropes.
The brothers stared.
Finally Gideon said:
“You got old.”
Thomas punched him lightly in the shoulder.
“So did you.”
Then embraced him.
Eli cried.
Martha cried.
Half the miners pretended not to.
Rourke tried crawling toward the woods.
Clara pointed.
Thomas turned.
Mercer blocked the path.
“Going somewhere?”
Rourke stared at the former hired gun.
Mercer smiled.
“Turns out I prefer living long enough to testify.”
By sunrise the federal marshal arrived.
Silas Rourke was arrested.
So were three guards.
Mercer surrendered in exchange for consideration and spent the first hour talking faster than anyone could write.
The ledger and deed book survived.
So did Gideon.
So did the truth.
Gideon recovered at Thomas’s cabin.
That created problems.
The cabin had once felt enormous with only Thomas and Martha.
Now it contained Thomas, Martha, Eli, Gideon, and occasionally Clara.
Martha cooked more soup.
Thomas complained about Gideon snoring.
Gideon said Thomas had always snored worse.
Eli listened to every argument with the fascination of a child discovering his father had once been somebody’s irritating younger brother.
One evening Gideon sat near the stove watching Martha knead bread.
“You're the reason he smiles.”
Martha looked up.
“Thomas?”
“No, President Grant.”
She laughed.
Gideon smiled.
“He hasn't smiled since we were boys.”
“That cannot be true.”
“Ask him.”
“I prefer living.”
Gideon lowered his voice.
“He wrote about you.”
Martha stopped kneading.
“When?”
“He found me once.”
“What?”
“Three months ago.”
Thomas had never said.
Gideon continued.
“He didn't know who I was at first.”
“I saw him in Asheville.”
“Followed him.”
“He nearly shot me.”
“That sounds more believable.”
“I didn't tell him.”
“Why?”
“Rourke’s people were watching.”
“But we spoke from opposite sides of an alley.”
“What did he say?”
Gideon smiled.
“He said there was a woman at his cabin who had somehow taken control of his kitchen, his bookkeeping, and apparently his common sense.”
Martha’s face warmed.
“Anything else?”
“Yes.”
Gideon looked delighted.
“He said you were beautiful when angry.”
Martha stared.
“Did he?”
“Very.”
Thomas entered carrying wood.
“What did I do?”
Martha looked at him.
“Apparently I am beautiful when angry.”
Thomas stopped.
Gideon began laughing.
Thomas dropped the wood.
“You were supposed to be dying.”
“I improved.”
Thomas looked at Martha.
She folded her arms.
“Well?”