“No.”
“Did you steal money?”
“No.”
He turned back to the rider.
“Then I’m comfortable enough for now.”
The woman almost laughed from sheer relief.
The rider did not.
“You have no idea what she brought to your door.”
The giant looked toward the seven armed men.
“I can see it.”
That ended the polite portion.
The rider stepped closer.
“Give me the ledger.”
“No.”
The giant spoke without looking at the bride.
“Is it inside?”
“Yes.”
“Original?”
“Yes.”
“Copies?”
The rider looked sharply toward her.
The bride smiled.
“Maybe.”
She had made none.
But now everyone would wonder.
The giant understood immediately.
“Smart.”
The rider’s face tightened.
“You think this is a game?”
“No.”
The bride’s voice softened.
“I think if seven men ride across Colorado because a bookkeeper copied numbers, the numbers are worth more than you admit.”
For the first time, one of the riders behind him looked toward the leader with doubt.
The leader noticed.
He turned.
“Mount.”
The bride blinked.
The confrontation was ending too easily.
The man looked toward her.
“You’ll come back.”
“No.”
“You will when you understand who you’ve tied yourself to.”
His gaze moved toward the giant rancher.
“Ask him why his brother really died.”
Then he mounted.
The giant became stone.
The riders turned toward the west.
Dust swallowed them.
Nobody moved until they disappeared.
The bride looked toward the rancher.
He stared after them.
“You need to tell me.”
she said.
He did not answer.
“Your brother.”
Still silence.
She stepped closer.
“What did he mean?”
The giant turned toward the house.
“Inside.”
They gathered around the kitchen table.
The ledger lay between them.
Dark leather.
Corners worn.
The bride opened it.
Columns.
Dates.
Payments.
Parcel descriptions.
Freight shipments.
Initials.
Names.
The rancher stood rather than sit.
His size seemed to fill the entire room.
The bride turned pages.
“Here.”
She pointed.
A payment from ten years earlier.
To a name she did not recognize.
Beside it:
Northern transfer. S. Stone. Completed.
The rancher went still.
She looked up.
“Your brother’s first initial?”
“Yes.”
Another entry.
Widow settlement redirected.
Another.
Claim extinguished following fire.
The rancher read.
His face changed.
The bride watched.
“What happened ten years ago?”
He sat slowly.
For the first time since she met him, the giant looked tired rather than strong.
“My brother wanted money.”
“That’s not unusual.”
“He wanted it fast.”
“What did he do?”
“Cards.”
“Horses.”
“Bad land schemes.”
The rancher rubbed one hand across his beard.
“Our father was dead.”
“The ranch belonged to both of us.”
“My brother wanted to sell.”
“I refused.”
The bride listened.
“He disappeared for weeks.”
“Came back with money.”
“Wouldn’t say where.”
“We fought.”
“Badly.”
The rancher looked toward the table.