"Silas Crowe has been involved in several questionable transactions."
"Can you prove it?" Elias asked.
"Not yet."
Samuel turned toward Clara.
"Mrs. Bennett, do you have any documents?"
Clara shook her head.
"Only a small book my husband kept. He wrote down the money Crowe lent him, the payments he made, and the dates."
"Where is it?"
"At our old house."
Samuel leaned forward.
"Is there anything else?"
Clara hesitated.
"There was a letter. Thomas wrote that Crowe had threatened him. He said Crowe was planning to take our land and sell it to the railroad."
Samuel sat back.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he stood and walked to the window.
"The railroad."
Elias frowned.
"What about it?"
"Crowe has been purchasing land along the northern route. If the railroad builds a station near Red Willow, those properties will become extremely valuable."
"That doesn't prove anything."
"No," Samuel said. "But it gives him a reason to force families off their land."
Clara looked frightened.
"What happens now?"
Samuel returned to his desk.
"We need the book and the letter."
"I'll go get them," Elias said.
"No," Clara replied suddenly.
Both men turned toward her.
"I know the house. I know where Thomas kept them."
Elias shook his head.
"It's too dangerous."
"I won't let you go alone."
"Clara—"
"You helped me when I was starving. You gave me shelter. You stood between me and Crowe."
Her voice trembled, but she continued.
"Please don't take away the chance to do something myself."
Elias looked at her for a long moment.
Then he nodded.
"All right."
Samuel folded his hands.
"You'll need to be careful. Crowe may have men watching the property."
"We'll leave before dawn," Elias said.
That evening, they returned to the ranch.
Neither spoke much during the journey. Clara sat beside Elias, holding the edge of her shawl, while the wagon creaked along the trail.
When they reached the cabin, she climbed down and stood beside the porch.
"Elias?"
He turned.
"Yes?"
"Why are you doing all this?"
He looked at the barn, the fence, and the old house where he had buried so many memories.
For a moment, he thought of Margaret.
He remembered her standing in the kitchen, laughing as flour covered her face. He remembered Anna running across the yard, carrying a wooden horse almost as large as her arm.
He had once believed the best part of his life was behind him.
Now he was beginning to wonder whether that had been true.
"Because someone should have helped you," he said.
Clara lowered her eyes.
"And no one did."
Elias shook his head.
"Not until you found me."
She looked at him.
"I didn't find you. You found me."
He smiled faintly.
"Maybe that's the same thing."
They spent the rest of the evening preparing for the journey. Clara packed bread, dried meat, and a small flask of water. Elias checked his rifle, saddled Copper, and placed a lantern in the wagon.
Before going to sleep, Clara stood in the kitchen and looked at the old wooden table.
"Do you miss them?" she asked.
Elias knew who she meant.
"Every day."
"Does it ever become easier?"