Sadie expected argument.
None.
That made her angrier.
“Don’t agree just to end conversation.”
“I’m not.”
“Then say something.”
Lucien stood.
“Next time I think something must be done involving your property, name, marriage, or life, I ask first.”
“Even if you think I’ll say no?”
“Yes.”
“Even if saying no causes trouble?”
“Yes.”
“Even if you believe I’m making mistake?”
“Yes.”
She stared.
“And if I choose wrong?”
“I stand nearby while you learn.”
Sadie’s anger cracked.
Not gone.
But something entered.
Respect.
She sat.
Lucien returned to knife.
After a minute Sadie said:
“The letter to Helena.”
“Yes?”
“What exactly did it say?”
He handed her copy.
She read.
He had not claimed to act for her.
He had written:
I believe Sadie Miller Holt holds title and may be unaware of attempted conveyance. Please place temporary notice until she communicates directly.
That was better than she expected.
Still without permission.
She placed paper down.
“Next time ask.”
“Yes.”
The storm lasted two days.
On third morning, someone knocked.
Three hard blows.
Lucien reached for rifle.
Sadie looked at him.
He froze.
Then asked:
“May I?”
She almost smiled.
“Yes.”
He took rifle.
They approached door.
Lucien called, “Who?”
A woman answered.
“Clara Whitcomb, territorial attorney. If you make me freeze because you’re being theatrical, I will sue you personally.”
Lucien immediately opened.
A woman in her early forties entered wrapped in brown traveling coat and snow.
She had gray beginning at temples and eyes sharp enough to cut leather.
Behind her stood a young guide.
Clara stomped snow from boots.
Then looked at Sadie.
“Mrs. Holt?”
Sadie hesitated.
“Sadie.”
“Good.”
“I’m Clara Whitcomb.”
“I represent no one until you decide whether you want me.”
Sadie immediately liked her.
Clara removed gloves.
“May we speak without your husband?”
Lucien said, “Yes.”
Sadie said, “Wait.”
Both looked.
She surprised herself.
“He can stay.”
Clara studied her.
“Your choice?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
They sat.
Clara had received Lucien’s notice.
She had pulled county records.
What she found was worse.
Cobb had filed a petition claiming Sadie Miller’s current residence was uncertain and asserting abandoned-property authority over certain “unresolved estate interests.”
The petition was not yet granted.
More important, a quitclaim deed existed.
Supposedly signed by Sadie six months earlier.
Sadie stared.
“I signed nothing.”
“I assumed.”
Clara placed copy.
The signature looked almost like hers.
Almost.
But Sadie knew immediately.
“I make the S differently.”
Clara smiled.
“Excellent.”
“Can that prove?”
“It helps.”
Then Clara placed another paper.
“Banking records.”
Cobb had borrowed heavily against anticipated railroad payments.
If he could not deliver right-of-way, he could lose most commercial property he controlled.
“The town shortage,” Sadie said.
Clara nodded.
“Part natural disaster.”
“Part poor finances.”
“How poor?”