The whispers.
The word ordered.
She looked at Elias.
“Someone had my description.”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell anyone?”
“No.”
Sheriff Pike’s expression changed.
He turned toward Amos.
“Answer her.”
Amos rolled his eyes.
“Everybody knows marriage bureaus send descriptions.”
“No,” Elias said. “They don’t.”
Amos looked toward the saloon.
That small movement was enough.
Elias started after him.
Emma caught his sleeve.
He stopped instantly.
She did not expect that.
“Don’t.”
His eyes met hers.
“I am not letting him—”
“I said don’t.”
Elias breathed through his nose.
Emma released his sleeve.
“If you beat him, I become the fat woman two men fought over in the street.”
Amos smirked.
Emma looked directly at him.
“If he stays standing, he has to answer questions.”
The smirk disappeared.
Elias looked at her for another second.
Then stepped back.
“All right.”
Emma had not expected the obedience to feel so intimate.
Amos had.
He looked almost disappointed.
Sheriff Pike said, “I’ll ask the questions.”
Emma looked at him.
“You had the entire morning.”
That landed.
The sheriff’s face reddened.
Elias almost smiled again.
Emma folded his letter carefully.
“Is the signature on this marriage paper yours?”
She removed the formal document from inside her glove.
Elias read it.
“Yes.”
Her stomach twisted.
“So the agreement is real.”
“The intent is.”
Emma stared.
Elias continued.
“It’s not a legal marriage until we stand before a minister.”
“I know that.”
“I signed because the bureau required both signatures before it purchased your rail and stage passage.”
Emma looked down at the paper.
“Then somebody sent me your signature and not your letter.”
“Yes.”
“And somebody sent this town enough information to turn my arrival into sport.”
“Yes.”
She looked toward Amos.
He stared back.
The street had become silent enough that Emma could hear flies around the hitching posts.
Elias spoke softly.
“I was supposed to meet your stage.”
“What happened?”
“I got a message at dawn that my north fence had been cut and forty head were loose.”
“Were they?”
“No.”
Emma’s eyes moved toward Amos again.
The red-bearded man looked at the sheriff.
“Jonah, this has gone far enough.”
For the first time, Sheriff Pike’s expression showed something close to suspicion.
“Who brought Elias the message?”
Amos shrugged.
“How would I know?”
A voice came from the edge of the crowd.
“My boy did.”
Everyone turned.
An older woman stood in front of the mercantile.
Mrs. Abigail Mercer.
Emma did not know her yet.
Within months, Abigail would become one of the few people Emma trusted enough to enter her kitchen without knocking.
That afternoon she was simply a narrow, silver-haired woman holding a basket of beans.
“My grandson carried a folded note to Hart’s ranch at sunrise.”
Sheriff Pike asked, “Who gave it to him?”
Abigail looked directly at Amos.
“He did.”
Amos swore.
The crowd shifted.
Sheriff Pike’s face hardened.
“You sent Elias away?”
“It was a joke.”
Elias took a step.
Emma touched his arm again.
He stopped.
Amos pointed toward her.
“Hell, Hart, look at her. You expect me to believe you weren’t going to laugh too?”
Elias looked at Emma.
Then at Amos.
“Yes.”