Nola stopped.
Maybe.
Maybe not.
Mae had been ill already.
No one could honestly know.
Nola said:
“You don't know that.”
“I know enough.”
“No.”
He turned.
His face was destroyed.
“Don't take certainty from me.”
“I’m taking false certainty.”
He stared.
Nola continued:
“Mae had an illness before Wren.”
“That is true.”
“The medicine harmed her.”
“Also true.”
“Would she have recovered without it?”
“We don’t know.”
“Would she have lived another year?”
“Ten?”
“Fifty?”
“We don’t know.”
His eyes filled.
Nola stepped closer.
“You cannot build a second prison out of questions nobody can answer.”
Garrick looked toward the house.
“The children lost her.”
“Yes.”
“I lost her.”
“Yes.”
“And Crow—”
“May hang.”
“That won't bring her back.”
“No.”
He looked at Nola.
“Then what is justice?”
Nola thought for a long time.
“Stopping him from doing it to another family.”
Garrick looked away.
“That feels small.”
“It usually does.”
“Revenge is dramatic.”
“Justice mostly looks like paperwork and people surviving.”
Despite himself, he laughed through tears.
Nola smiled.
“Good.”
“What?”
“You’re still capable of that.”
He looked at her.
For the first time, something passed between them that neither grief nor necessity could explain.
Both noticed.
Neither touched it.
Not yet.
Vernon Crow was arrested that evening.
Not dramatically.
No shootout.
No heroic confrontation.
The marshals rode to his ranch with twelve men and a warrant.
Crow tried to burn records.
Failed.
Deputy Pike attempted to claim he had only witnessed land transactions.
Bank ledgers disagreed.
Dr. Wren eventually traded testimony for reduced charges.
Garrick hated that.
Nola reminded him:
“If his testimony buries Crow, take the ugly victory.”
He did.
The bank note on Hollow Creek was investigated.
The lender had not known the full scheme but had relied on falsified appraisals supplied by Crow.
Foreclosure was suspended.
Later, the note was restructured.
Crow’s attempted purchase became evidence.
Hollow Creek remained Hale land.
For now.
The ranch was still failing.
Justice did not repair fences.
It did not fatten cattle.
It did not pay taxes.
It did not magically restore years of neglected work.
Garrick realized that two weeks after the arrests.
He sat at the kitchen table surrounded by ledgers.
Nola poured coffee.
He stared.
“We’re still broke.”
“Yes.”
“I expected justice to be more profitable.”
“Disappointing.”
He looked toward her.
“What now?”
Nola sat.
“Now we save the ranch.”
He laughed.
“Simple.”
“No.”
“Very difficult.”
“Good distinction.”
They began with numbers.
Mae’s numbers.
Her account books remained meticulous until the final months.
Nola studied them.
She discovered something Garrick had missed.
Hollow Creek did not need more cattle.