Affidavits.
Hearings.
Requests for additional records.
And frustrating intervals when nothing seemed to happen.
During those months, Lydia continued working.
She divided her time between Frost Creek and the town workroom.
She made dresses.
Repaired coats.
Maintained accounts.
And slowly accumulated savings.
Gideon never asked her to surrender them.
He continued living beside her with tenderness and restraint.
Some nights they sat together on the porch beneath the stars.
Some nights they read by the stove.
Sometimes they disagreed.
Over money.
The best way to repair a fence.
How much flour to purchase.
Whether Gideon ought to ride through a storm to deliver supplies.
Those disagreements surprised Lydia.
Not because they happened.
But because they ended without fear.
One evening, after an argument about his refusal to rest an injured shoulder, she stopped speaking abruptly.
Gideon noticed.
"What is it?"
She looked down.
"Nothing."
He set aside his coat.
"Lydia."
She swallowed.
"I'm waiting for you to become angry."
Gideon's expression softened.
"We've disagreed."
"I know."
"And I'm frustrated."
She nodded.
He moved closer.
"But I'm not going to punish you for disagreeing with me."
Tears filled her eyes.
He took a slow breath.
"I may be stubborn. I may say something foolish. But if I do, I want you to tell me."
She looked up.
"Even when you're angry?"
"Especially then."
Lydia laughed through tears.
Gideon smiled.
"Though I'd appreciate it if you didn't always tell me while I'm trying to fix a broken roof."
She laughed harder.
Then embraced him.
It was not a grand romantic moment.
But years later, she would remember it as one of the moments she knew their love was becoming real.
Not because they never disagreed.
Because disagreement no longer threatened her safety.
The first major court hearing involving Rusk's financial dealings took place in late summer.
The courtroom in Calder's Crossing was crowded.
Landowners filled the benches.
Merchants stood near the rear wall.
Several men from the timber camp attended.
Ruth sat beside Lydia.
Gideon remained nearby.
Miss Mercer presented evidence with careful precision.
The independent survey was introduced.
Older land records were examined.
Witnesses described the practical effects of the disputed boundary.
Freight accounts were compared.
And Lydia testified concerning the figures she had copied during her marriage to Everett.
She walked to the witness chair wearing a dark-blue dress she had made herself.
It fit comfortably.
The fabric moved naturally over her full figure.
Her hair was pinned back with a simple silver comb.
She carried herself carefully.
Not because she lacked confidence.
Because she understood the importance of accuracy.
The attorney questioning her asked how she came to possess the records.
Lydia explained.
She described Everett's instructions.
The copying.
The shorthand.
The fear of making mistakes.
Then she explained how the figures could be read.