Chapter 24
The afternoon hung heavily over the valley. The heat made the air shimmer over the grass.
Rachel wiped her brow with the back of her hand and shifted the pail to her other arm. The barn wasn’t much. It was half-leaning and patched with boards of different colors, but it was shelter enough for the horses and for her thoughts.
She tried to keep busy. That’s what Blaze always told her when bad things happened.
Keep busy, and don’t let the dark thoughts in.
So, she did. She swept the feed aisle twice a day, even when there was hardly any straw left to move. She polished the tack until her fingers blistered, mended blankets with crooked stitches, and scrubbed the troughs until her reflection swam faintly on the surface.
Still, the quiet got to her.
Every time a rider passed on the road, her heart kicked, thinking maybe it was him. But it never was.
Blaze had been gone nearly two weeks now. Rachel hadn’t argued much. She knew better. Blaze carried the hurt that made men restless. Still, she couldn’t help worrying what that kind of hurt might make him do.
She lifted the pitchfork and turned the hay in the stall, trying not to think of it. Dust rose around her, catching in the light like smoke. The mare snorted softly, brushing her muzzle against Rachel’s shoulder.
“You would have loved him,” she murmured.
The horse blinked, and Rachel smiled faintly.
“He’ll come back,” she said. “He always does.”
But even as she said it, doubt tugged at the edges of her voice.
Outside, the sound of wagon wheels drifted faintly down the road, then faded. She stopped working for a moment, listening to the emptiness return.
Somewhere in the distance, a crow called. The sound was sharp and lonely.
This barn belonged to Robert Kane. She knew he had done business with their father before his death. After Blaze rode off, Kane offered her a place to stay.
She’d been grateful then, too tired and scared to ask questions. But lately she’d started noticing things . . . how he kept the ledgers locked tight, how he watched her a little too closely when she passed him in the yard.
She tried to stay out of his way, working from sunup to sundown. It gave her an excuse not to talk. She fed the chickens, carried water from the well, and brushed down the horses until their coats shone.
When she wasn’t working, she sat by the fence with her sewing, glancing at the hills where Blaze had disappeared.
She remembered the last thing he said before he left. She’d smiled, but now the memory just ached.
Rachel reached for the water bucket and carried it toward the stalls, the boards creaking beneath her boots. Sunlight slanted through the gaps in the wall, casting bright stripes across the straw.
For a moment, everything was still. The smell of hay, the warm breath of the horses, and the rhythmic cluck of hens outside felt familiar.
Then she heard a step behind her. It was slow.
Her hands tightened around the bucket handle.
“Where you think you’re goin’, girl?” Kane said.
Rachel froze halfway between the stalls, a bucket of water sloshing in her hands. The air smelled of hay and horses, the afternoon sun cutting golden stripes through the gaps in the barn wall.
“I was just feeding the mare,” Rachel replied.
Kane stepped out from the shadows by the tack room door. His fine coat looked too nice for the dust, and his boots were polished like he’d just come from church.
“You always take this long feedin’ a horse?”
Rachel set the bucket down carefully. “I was just thinking about Blaze.”
The man smiled, but there wasn’t an ounce of kindness in it. “Blaze. Always talkin’ about that boy like he’s comin’ back through that gate tomorrow.”
“He will,” Rachel said. “Soon as he finds Wilder.”
Kane chuckled low. “That so? You got a lotta faith for a girl who’s livin’ off favors.”
Rachel’s stomach knotted. “Blaze said you’d look after us. That’s what you promised.”
“I did,” Kane said. “And I been keepin’ that promise. Roof over your head, food in the pantry, horse feed in the stalls. But promises, sweetheart, they cost money. Money’s runnin’ thin.”
Rachel straightened. “I’ve been helping as best I can.”
“Helpin’ don’t fill ledgers,” Kane said. “Now, I been thinkin’ of a way to ease both our troubles.”
“What kind of way?” she asked.
It felt like an eternity since Blaze left her under Kane’s care. Since then, everything had turned sour. Kane was not the same man as before. It was like something inside him had switched.
Kane stepped closer, his boots crunching the straw.
“There’s a rancher over in Carson Bluffs,” he said. “Man’s got more acres than he knows what to do with. Lonely sort, no wife, no children. Been sayin’ he could use company. He’s lookin’ for someone young, pretty, and polite.”
Rachel’s heart stuttered. “You mean . . . you want me to go work there?”
“Work ain’t the word I’d use,” Kane replied, his yellow teeth showing through his smile. “He wants a girl to take care of him. Keep the house warm. Keep him warm.”
Rachel backed up until her shoulder hit the stall post. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m dead serious,” Kane said. “He’s willin’ to pay handsomely for a bride. And with your brother runnin’ wild and your mama gone, ain’t nobody left to speak for you. I figure I’ll take my cut for arrangin’ it.”
“You can’t sell me,” Rachel replied.
“I can do whatever needs doin’ to keep this place runnin’,” Kane said. “And don’t fool yourself, girl. Your daddy would have done the same if it meant keepin’ food on the table.”
“That’s a lie,” Rachel said. “My father wasn’t like you.”
Kane’s eyes glinted. “Wasn’t he, now?”
“He was a good man,” she insisted.
“Good?” Kane stepped closer still, the smell of whiskey heavy on his breath. “You think a good man leaves his family broke? You think a good man dies with blood on his hands and stolen gold to his name?”
“What did you just say?”
Kane smirked. “Oh, he didn’t tell you? Course not. Your ma probably tried to wash it away . . . pretend he was some hero. But I was there, Rachel. I rode with him. Your pa stole that gold.”
“You’re lying,” Rachel said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“You ever wonder why Wilder came after him?” Kane asked, tilting his head. “Why men died for it? You think it was over pride? Nah, sweetheart. It was over gold. A whole chest of it. Your daddy took what wasn’t his . . . and left the rest of us to burn.”
“That ain’t true,” Rachel said. “You’re trying to turn me against him.”
“I don’t need to,” Kane said. “Truth does that on its own.”
Rachel shook her head, her braid brushing her shoulder. “You’re drunk.”
“Not near enough,” Kane said. “Now listen here, girl. You ain’t got nobody left to protect you.
Wilder’s got his claws in half the territory, and your brother’s face is on bounty posters from here to the east. You stay here, and you’ll starve.
You go with this rancher, you’ll live comfortably.
I’ll even throw in your dowry papers. All tidy. ”
“You’d trade me like a horse?” she asked.
Kane leaned in, his voice dropping. “Better than buryin’ you like one.”
That was it. She acted before she knew what she was doing.
Her hand flew out, and Rachel slapped him.
The sound cracked through the barn, startling the horses. Kane’s head snapped sideways, then he looked back at her. His eyes had gone cold.
“That,” he said quietly, “was a mistake.”
Rachel stepped back, her heart hammering. “You stay away from me.”
Kane wiped the corner of his mouth where blood had beaded.
“You got your mother’s temper,” he said. “She had fire too . . . right up till the day it burned her.”
Rachel grabbed the pitchfork from the wall. “I mean it, Mr. Kane.”
“You gonna stab me, little girl?” he laughed. “You wouldn’t even know how.”
“Try me,” Rachel said.
For a moment, neither one of them moved. Then Kane lunged.
Rachel swung the fork up, catching him across the arm. He grunted, stumbling back. The horses shrieked, kicking against their stalls.
“You damn brat!” Kane roared. “You think you can threaten me in my own barn?”
“It’s not your barn!” Rachel shouted. “It belongs to the town!”
Kane’s hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. His fingers dug deep, twisting until she cried out.
“You best start rememberin’ who keeps the roof over your head!”
Rachel jerked free, stumbling backward into a pile of hay. “You’re nothin’ but a thief!”
“Takes one to know one,” Kane sneered. “Ask your old man.”
“I said stop lying!”
“Ask Wilder,” Kane continued. “He’ll tell you himself. Your daddy took the gold that should’ve been mine. He thought he could hide it, but he died for it. Blaze is followin’ the same road . . . that boy don’t even know he’s chasin’ his father’s ghost.”
Rachel’s breath came hard and shallow. “You’re sick.”
“Maybe,” Kane said, straightening his coat. “But I’m still standin’. You? You got two choices. Go pack your things and get ready to meet your new husband . . . or I drag you there myself.”
“You touch me again, and I swear—”
“You’ll what?” Kane said, taking a step forward. “Scream? No one’s comin’. It’s just you, me, and the horses.”
Quickly, Rachel darted sideways, slipping between two stalls. “Then I’ll find someone who’ll believe me.”
“Don’t count on it,” Kane said. “Folks know who pays the bills around here.”
He lunged again, but Rachel ducked low and bolted toward the open doors. Her skirts caught on a nail, tearing as she ran.
“Rachel!” Kane bellowed. “You come back here!”
She didn’t.
The light outside hit her like a slap. It was blinding, hot, and full of dust. She sprinted across the yard, her heart pounding. Kane’s boots thudded against the dirt behind her.
“Stop!” he shouted. “You don’t know what you’re doin’!”
“I know enough!” Rachel shouted back.
She reached the fence and scrambled over, her dress ripping again. Kane’s hand brushed her heel, but she kicked loose and hit the ground running.
“Rachel!” he roared. “You think you can run from me? From the truth?”
She didn’t look back.
She ran past the empty corral and the old apple tree. Her lungs burned, her vision blurred, but she kept moving.
Behind her, Kane’s voice echoed across the yard.
“You can’t outrun blood, girl! It’s in your veins! Your daddy’s sins . . . they’ll find you same as they found him!”
Rachel reached the edge of civilization before she dared to stop. She ducked behind the blacksmith’s shed, gasping for breath. Her hands were shaking so hard she could barely press them to her chest.
Her father. Stolen gold. Kane’s words tumbled through her head like stones down a hill.
It couldn’t be true. It wasn’t true.
Her father had been brave. Honest. He’d died protecting them. That’s what her mother had said. That’s what Blaze believed.
But what if . . . what if that was just another lie told to keep her safe?
Tears welled up in her eyes. She wiped them away with the back of her hand.
“No,” she whispered to herself. “He wasn’t a thief.”
Though even as she said it, her voice faltered.
She looked back toward the barn in the distance. Kane’s dark shape was still pacing near the doors, shouting her name to the wind.
Rachel turned away and ran again, faster this time.
She didn’t know where she was going . . . only that she couldn’t go home.