He continued quietly.
"We're not going to solve an eighteen-thousand-dollar debt by pretending lawyers work for free."
Despite herself, she laughed.
Then he became serious.
"Listen to me."
She looked up.
"I won't promise we can afford every fight."
He squeezed her hand.
"But we'll decide which ones matter, and we'll face the costs together."
Eleanor swallowed.
Then nodded.
For the first time, she was beginning to understand that a partner didn't simply rescue another person from hardship.
A partner shared the responsibility of choosing what to do about it.
They returned to Red Willow two days later with legal advice, a list of documents to obtain, and more questions than answers.
A letter was sent to Lydia Hale in Providence.
Another went to a legal office in Boston recommended by Shaw.
And a formal request for documentation concerning the ranch note was prepared for the institution claiming to hold it.
For several days, nothing happened.
Then the weather turned.
Cold rain became sleet.
The creek rose.
And ranch work consumed nearly every hour of daylight.
Silas spent long days inspecting the northern fences.
Owen supervised hay storage.
The younger ranch hands repaired gates and moved equipment beneath cover.
Eleanor kept the accounts, prepared meals with increasing competence, and learned how to identify supplies needed before winter isolated the ranch.
She also discovered something no one had told her about Silas.
He regularly deducted money from what he paid himself to cover unexpected expenses for his workers.
Sometimes medical bills.
Sometimes family emergencies.
Sometimes wages he continued paying while an injured man recovered.
She found the entries while reviewing the books.
For a moment, she stared.
Then looked toward Silas.
He was repairing a harness beside the stove.
"What's this?"
He glanced up.
"What?"
She held out the ledger.
"These payments."
He examined the entries.
Then shrugged.
"Helped a few people."
Eleanor frowned.
"You personally covered Owen's daughter's medical expenses?"
Silas nodded.
"She was sick last spring."
"And you paid Jonah's wages while he was injured?"
"He fell from a horse. Wasn't his fault."
She stared.
There were several more entries.
A widow in town.
A laborer's family.
A ranch hand who needed money for his mother's funeral.
Silas shifted uncomfortably.
"What's wrong?"
Eleanor looked toward him.
"Nothing."
He frowned.
"Then why are you staring?"
She smiled slowly.
"Because the most frightening man in three counties appears to be supporting half the valley."