“You were beautiful.”
Lena stared.
He lifted one hand.
“I know you don’t believe that.”
“That’s not your fault.”
She looked down.
“It’s hard.”
“I know.”
“You don’t know.”
“No.”
He corrected again.
“I don’t.”
Lena appreciated that.
He said:
“I can only tell you what I saw.”
“And I’d rather wait until you can hear it without thinking I’m trying to purchase your trust.”
She looked at him.
“Who taught you to talk like that?”
“My sister.”
“Of course.”
He laughed.
Helena’s county offices occupied a brick building near the courthouse.
The clerk handling old probate records was a thin man with spectacles and the exhausted expression of someone who had spent thirty years watching families discover that paper remembered what people tried to forget.
Dawson identified the estate.
“Samuel Vale.”
The clerk disappeared.
Returned with two boxes.
Lena’s hands went cold.
They found the death certificates first.
Samuel Vale.
Ruth Vale.
Killed when their wagon overturned along a steep road during an October rainstorm.
Witness statements described a wheel breaking.
No evidence of foul play.
Lena felt strange relief.
At least Harold had not killed them.
The thought itself made her sick.
Next came probate.
Samuel’s will named Ruth primary beneficiary.
If Ruth died with him or within thirty days, everything passed to their daughter Lena Ruth Vale.
Guardian until twenty-one:
Harold Hail.
Management rights only.
No permanent transfer of principal real property without court approval.
The clerk turned pages.
“No court approval here.”
Dawson looked at Lena.
She remained still.
Then the transfer deed.
Three thousand one hundred twenty acres from “estate of Samuel Vale, by lawful guardian Harold Hail acting for minor heir,” transferred to Hail Agricultural Holdings.
Consideration:
One dollar and assumption of debt.
The clerk frowned.
“That’s unusual.”
“How much debt?” Lena asked.
He searched.
Bank note:
Four thousand eight hundred dollars.
Dawson spoke.
“What was North Star worth then?”
The clerk looked at him.
“Maybe twenty thousand.”
“With water?”
“More.”
Lena felt numb.
Harold had transferred land worth several times the debt into his own control.
Then used its water and grazing for twenty-five years.
The clerk continued.
“There’s another filing.”
He removed a document.
A release from the bank.
The debt had been paid eighteen months after transfer.
Using proceeds from cattle sold off North Star.
Lena looked at Dawson.
“He paid the debt with my cattle.”
“Yes.”
Then kept the land.
“Yes.”
Eliza whispered:
“Oh, Father.”
Lena sat back.
The clerk seemed uncomfortable.
“There may be limitations.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’re twenty-six.”
“Fraud involving guardianship can be complicated.”
“You need counsel.”
Dawson said:
“I know someone.”
Lena looked at him.