They climbed together.
At her bedroom door she stopped.
The hallway was quiet.
Cole checked the floorboards.
Window latch.
Closet.
Under the bed.
Lila watched with growing amusement.
“Is there anything else?”
He looked toward the wardrobe.
“Open it.”
“You are joking.”
“No.”
Lila opened the wardrobe.
Dresses.
Coats.
Nothing else.
Cole nodded.
“Lock the door.”
She leaned against the frame.
“And you?”
“Library.”
“Not your room?”
“No.”
“Why?”
He looked down the hall.
“Because whoever wrote that note may come looking to see whether I survived.”
Lila’s fear returned.
Cole saw it.
He stepped closer.
“Hey.”
She looked up.
“You’re safe.”
“You cannot promise that.”
“No.”
The honesty settled between them.
“But I can promise I won’t be far.”
Her throat tightened.
Cole’s hand rose slightly.
Stopped near her cheek.
He did not touch.
Lila noticed.
He noticed her noticing.
She whispered:
“You always do that.”
“What?”
“Stop.”
“Before?”
“Yes.”
Cole looked at his own hand.
Then at her.
“I don’t know what you want me to do.”
Lila’s heart beat harder.
She could have answered.
Instead she said:
“Goodnight.”
Coward.
Cole lowered his hand.
“Goodnight, Lila.”
She closed the door.
Locked it.
Then stood there with her forehead against the wood listening to his footsteps fade.
She did not sleep.
Neither did he.
Breakfast at Bennett Ranch began at six.
Cole entered the dining room at exactly 6:12.
Alive.
Everyone noticed.
Lila watched faces.
The cook looked normal.
Two ranch hands argued over coffee.
Daniel complained about weather.
Mrs. Keller, the senior housekeeper, carried biscuits.
Earl West, maintenance supervisor, entered late.
Lila saw it.
A tiny pause.
His eyes landed on Cole.
Stopped.
Only a fraction of a second.
Then he smiled.
“Morning.”
Cole looked up from coffee.
“Earl.”
Nothing else.
Lila’s pulse quickened.
Maybe imagination.
Maybe not.
She had learned during years of keeping household accounts that human beings revealed themselves in fractions.
A repeated number.
An invoice too neat.
A person looking surprised when they should look bored.
Earl poured coffee.
His hands were steady.
He sat.
Daniel asked:
“Bathhouse stove give trouble yesterday?”
Earl looked toward him.
“Not that I know.”
“Vent seemed slow.”
A pause.
“Storm debris maybe.”
Cole ate eggs.
No reaction.
Lila watched Earl.
“Could be.”
Then he changed subject.
Too quickly.
Maybe.
Again, maybe.
After breakfast Daniel delivered the cattle books to Lila’s office.
She spent three hours inside them.
Cole had understated the size of his operation.
Five thousand head was only the main breeding herd.
Seasonal stock pushed totals considerably higher.
Multiple ranges.
Brand counts.
Purchases.