Shelter.
Fresh horses.
Water.
Repair.
Miriam—Eleanor Hart—had worked at one.
Silas Boon trapped nearby.
When the original owner died, they purchased it together.
Not romance.
Business.
Partnership.
Silas had money from pelts.
Eleanor had money inherited from an aunt and more practical sense than three Silases combined.
They expanded.
Built a barn.
Dug drainage.
Secured spring access.
Then silver discoveries changed everything.
Speculators arrived.
Land values climbed.
Silas died in an avalanche.
Ownership became contested.
A mining company claimed an older grant covered the spring.
Eleanor fought.
Then threats began.
Jedodiah’s father urged her to leave temporarily.
She did.
With Matilda.
She never returned.
“Why?”
Matilda asked.
Jedodiah hesitated.
“We don't know.”
“You said she gave papers to your father.”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn't she come back?”
“She wrote twice.”
“What did she say?”
“First letter said she was in Denver.”
“Second said she was going east.”
“With me?”
“Yes.”
“She never went east.”
“You know that.”
“I grew up here.”
Jedodiah nodded.
“My father believed she changed plans.”
“Then he died.”
“When?”
“Seven years ago.”
“And you've been looking since?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you find Abigail?”