"Have you answered?"
She shook her head.
"No."
"Good."
Eleanor frowned.
"Good?"
He nodded.
"Let's speak with a lawyer first."
She looked toward him.
For a moment, relief passed across her face.
"You've thought about that?"
"Since the church."
Silas pulled out a chair.
Sat opposite her.
Then explained that he'd spoken with a rancher who recommended an attorney in Cheyenne named Edwin Shaw.
Shaw had experience with mortgages, property disputes, and commercial agreements.
He might not know every detail of Massachusetts law, but he could help them understand the ranch note and coordinate with appropriate counsel farther east.
Eleanor listened.
Then nodded.
"That sounds sensible."
Silas smiled faintly.
"Occasionally I manage it."
She laughed.
Then her expression became serious.
"There's another person we need to find."
Silas looked up.
"Who?"
"Beatrice Carrington."
He nodded slowly.
Eleanor continued.
"If she's alive and being held against her wishes, those letters matter only because of what they may help prove. She is the person whose life was taken from her."
Silas studied her.
For a moment, he seemed impressed by the clarity of her thinking.
Then asked, "Do you know anyone who might reach her?"
Eleanor hesitated.
"There was a nurse at Brookmere House."
Silas waited.
"I met her once at a charity reception. Her name was Marian Bellamy."
Eleanor thought for a moment.
"She seemed kind. And when Edmund mentioned Beatrice, she looked troubled."
Silas leaned forward.
"Do you know where to write?"
"Not directly."
She paused.
"But Beatrice has a younger sister in Providence. Lydia Hale. I found her name in some family correspondence."
Silas nodded.
"Then we begin there."
Eleanor looked toward him.
For several seconds, she seemed overwhelmed.
He frowned.
"What?"
She whispered, "You really intend to help her."
Silas looked surprised.
"Of course."
Eleanor swallowed.
"But you've never met Beatrice."
He considered that.
Then said quietly, "I never met the widow whose hay barn burned last winter, either. Didn't mean she deserved to freeze."
Tears gathered in Eleanor's eyes.
He shrugged.
"A person doesn't have to belong to me before I care whether someone's hurting them."
For a moment, she couldn't speak.
Then she stood.