Silas groaned.
"Eleanor."
She laughed softly.
He shook his head.
"People helped me when I was starting out."
He returned to the harness.
"Wouldn't be much of a man if I forgot."
Eleanor watched him.
For a moment, she thought about her father.
Horace could write a large check to a charity, receive public praise, and still threaten a family over a missed payment.
Silas rarely spoke of generosity.
He simply practiced it.
She looked toward the ledger again.
Then made a quiet decision.
Whatever happened with the debt, she wouldn't allow her father's threats to strip Silas of the very decency that made the ranch worth protecting.
The telegram arrived on a freezing afternoon three days before Thanksgiving.
Eleanor was in the pantry counting preserved vegetables when a ranch hand came to the back door carrying an envelope.
"Message from town, Mrs. Boone."
She wiped her hands.
Accepted it.
Then noticed the sender.
Edwin Shaw.
Her stomach tightened.
She opened the message.
It was brief.
But the words changed everything.
CONTACT ESTABLISHED WITH LYDIA HALE. SISTER BEATRICE BELIEVED ALIVE AT BROOKMERE. FORMER NURSE WILLING TO PROVIDE STATEMENT. URGENT MEETING ADVISED.
Eleanor read it twice.
Then sank slowly into a chair.
For weeks, she'd feared Beatrice might have died without anyone learning what happened to her.
Now a former nurse was willing to speak.
An actual witness.
Someone who had seen Beatrice.
Possibly examined the treatment she received.
Possibly knew whether the physician's certification was honest.
Eleanor pressed the telegram against her chest.
Then began crying.
Not from fear this time.
From hope.
When Silas returned from the barn, he found her beside the stove.
He immediately noticed her tears.
"What happened?"
She held out the paper.
He read it.
His expression changed.
Then he looked toward her.
"She's alive."
Eleanor nodded.
"Yes."
Silas sat beside her.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then he gently took her hand.
"We have somewhere to begin."
Eleanor looked toward him.
Tears slipped down her cheeks.
"Silas."
He waited.
She whispered, "If I can help Beatrice, perhaps everything that happened in Boston will have meant something."
Silas's expression softened.
He leaned closer.
"Eleanor."
She looked up.