“I didn’t think it mattered.”
“It matters.”
Amos swore.
Sarah whispered, “Blackwood’s buying a railway corridor.”
“No.”
Abigail studied the map.
“He isn’t buying it.”
She looked at them.
“He’s manufacturing defaults so the bank can acquire it.”
The room went silent.
Cole’s face hardened.
“How much would that land be worth?”
“If a rail company enters?”
Abigail exhaled.
“Enough to make every stolen dollar look small.”
Sarah sat down.
“My husband thought he failed.”
Abigail looked at her.
Sarah’s eyes filled.
“He died believing he had ruined us.”
No one spoke.
That was the moment the investigation stopped being about Cole’s ranch.
Abigail touched Sarah’s shoulder.
“Then we prove he didn’t.”
Silas Blackwood arrived at Mercer Ranch the following afternoon.
He rode in a polished carriage with a driver and a lawyer.
The contrast was almost insulting.
Cole had mud on his boots.
Abigail had flour on her apron.
Blackwood stepped onto the porch as though visiting property he already owned.
He was fifty-five.
Silver hair.
Perfect beard.
Expensive coat.
Calm eyes.
The sort of man who believed politeness became morality when practiced with enough confidence.
“Mrs. Mercer.”
Abigail stood in the doorway.
“Mr. Blackwood.”
“Congratulations on your marriage.”
“You missed the cake.”
“I heard.”
Of course he had.
Cole came around the barn.
Blackwood smiled.
“Mercer.”
“Blackwood.”
The lawyer opened a leather case.
Blackwood ignored him.
“I understand you’ve taken an interest in banking.”
Abigail smiled.
“Only arithmetic.”
“A dangerous hobby without training.”
“My father trained me.”
For the first time Blackwood’s composure flickered.
Very slightly.
“Your father was an imaginative man.”
“He disliked thieves.”
Cole moved closer.
Blackwood kept looking at Abigail.
“I came to offer you a kindness.”
“That sounds expensive.”
His smile thinned.
“Your husband’s loan is under review.”
Cole said, “Convenient.”
Blackwood continued.
“I am willing to extend favorable terms.”
Abigail waited.
“If you stop interfering in private agreements between the bank and its clients.”
There it was.
Clean.
Polite.
Almost reasonable.
Abigail folded her hands.
“What if I refuse?”
Blackwood sighed.
“The bank may have no option but to enforce existing provisions.”
Cole stepped forward.
Abigail touched his arm.
He stopped.
Blackwood noticed.
She did too.
“Those provisions are precisely what we’re examining.”
Blackwood smiled.
“You are not an attorney.”
“No.”
“You are not a banker.”
“No.”
“You are a recently married woman with no professional standing.”
Abigail smiled back.
“And yet you drove twelve miles to ask me to stop reading.”
The lawyer looked down.
Cole’s mouth almost moved.
Blackwood’s smile disappeared.
Abigail continued.
“That interests me.”
Blackwood’s eyes hardened.
“Be careful.”
Cole’s body changed beside her.
Abigail kept her gaze on Blackwood.
“Was that financial advice?”
Blackwood stepped closer.
“Your father also believed himself clever.”
Everything inside Abigail went still.
Cole saw it.