Nor did he assume every detail was established simply because it explained Caleb's suspicions.
He asked Peter to provide a formal account.
He arranged for the statement to be recorded accurately.
And he made clear that any decision about criminal responsibility required evidence beyond one frightened witness's recollection.
Peter agreed.
Then he asked a question that silenced the room.
"What happens to my wife and daughter?"
Amos looked toward him.
"Why?"
Peter swallowed.
"Because Briggs knows I was there."
Caleb turned from the window.
For a moment, his expression hardened.
Then he looked toward Amos.
"We can't leave him alone."
The sheriff nodded.
"I know."
They discussed practical protection.
Peter's family could temporarily stay with relatives in a nearby settlement.
The sheriff would send a trusted deputy to help them travel.
And the relevant authorities would be informed that intimidation of a witness was a concern.
It wasn't a guarantee.
No arrangement in the remote territory could promise perfect safety.
But it was better than leaving Peter exposed.
When the meeting ended, the young man stood.
He approached Caleb hesitantly.
For a moment, he looked as though he might kneel.
Caleb's expression tightened.
"Don't."
Peter stopped.
His eyes filled.
"I'm sorry about Thomas."
Caleb swallowed.
For several seconds, he couldn't speak.
Then he nodded.
"I know."
Peter looked toward him.
Caleb continued.
"Tell the truth now. All of it."
The younger man nodded quickly.
"I will."
Caleb held his gaze.
"That's how you begin making it right."
Peter began crying again.
Then left with the deputy.
Caleb remained standing near the window.
Clara approached.
For a moment, she didn't touch him.
Then she asked softly, "Do you want to go home?"
He looked toward her.
The word affected him unexpectedly.
Home.
For years, it had meant an empty cabin and a place where he stored his possessions.
Now Clara spoke it as though it belonged to both of them.
He took a slow breath.
"Yes."
She offered her hand.
He took it.
And together, they stepped into the cold afternoon.
They didn't return directly to the cabin.
Instead, Caleb led Clara toward a small hill overlooking the valley.
A cemetery stood there, enclosed by a low wooden fence.
The snow had been cleared from the narrow path, revealing frozen earth and rows of simple markers.
Clara understood where they were going before Caleb spoke.
He stopped beside a grave near the southern edge.
The stone was plain.
Thomas Edward Hart.
Below the name were the dates of his short life.
Caleb removed his hat.
For a long moment, he stood without speaking.
Clara remained beside him.
The wind moved through the bare branches of a nearby tree.