The herd finally gone, Mitchell eased away from her. Victoria turned to face him, but he spun back, directing her attention away from the barn door. “Don’t look!”

  She gasped. “Uncle Walter? Did he survive the trampling?”

  “Stay back, Victoria.”

  She did, but turned in time to see Mitchell leaning over Walter’s body to check him. Glancing back at Victoria, he shook his head. She bit her lip.

  Something fluttered out of the circle of light to land at her feet. She stooped to snatch it. It was the tattered remains of the agreement to sell the mineral rights. Mitch hadn’t closed the envelope and somehow the hooves had ripped it to shreds, so much so that the evening breeze spread it like fine seed. All Victoria had now was the envelope and the first page, both barely recognizable.

  A growing noise from beyond the house caught their attention. Mitchell grabbed her and shoved her into the barn, pulling the door closed. He pressed her once again against the wall.

  When the pounding hooves ended, it was Jake who called out, “Are you all right?”

  Mitchell opened the door. “Victoria and I are fine. And you? The herd headed your way.”

  “I’m fine,” Jake answered as he dismounted. “The herd took a sharp left and disappeared toward Proud Bend. The town will stop them. We’ll round them up in the morning when they’ve worn themselves out.”

  Seeing the body, Jake bent over Walter, his expression as grim as Mitchell’s.

  “Arson wasn’t in his plans tonight after all,” Mitch explained, “but murder and blackmail were. He came around the back way so that’s why you missed him.” He paused. “He came to get me to sign the rights over to him.”

  Jake flipped open Walter’s tattered jacket, revealing the revolver the older man had tucked in his pocket as well as a wound in his side. He checked the gun. “He’d loaded all the chambers, but I can see that one has accidentally discharged. It shot him in the side, probably when he fell.”

  “Get a blanket for him,” Mitchell ordered Jake. His words were quiet, filled with compassion for the man who’d just threatened to murder and extort.

  Victoria glanced over at him. Tears burned her eyes, but they were not for her uncle. They were for everything but him.

  “We need to get into Proud Bend,” Victoria finally said with equal gentleness. “I should be there for Aunt Louise.”

  Mitchell nodded. “I’ll take you home.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t look at him.” Mitchell paused. “If nothing else, your uncle confirmed what we both suspected.”

  “What’s that?”

  His shoulders stiff, he answered, “That I would never be able to give you anything.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “If he had survived, I would have lost everything because the amount I sold the rights for wasn’t enough to cover my mortgage payment. And now I have probably lost more heifers. Some were no doubt injured and whichever ones weren’t branded will be claimed by other ranchers. Plus the expense of whatever damages this stampede caused. Either way, I’ve lost the ranch. I don’t even have anything for my children this winter. They came here with nothing.”

  Victoria bit her lip. Mitchell looked away. He was so wrong, but she found she couldn’t speak.

  “Where are your horses?” he asked her.

  She stifled a sob, swallowing it too quickly for it to bubble to the surface again. “Uncle Walter took Clyde’s carriage.” With a shaking hand, she pointed to the hill to the south of the house. “It’s on the other side of that rise.”

  He was frowning at her. “Are you up for a walk? I can carry you if you wish.”

  Victoria shook her head tightly. “No, I don’t wish to be carried. I’m perfectly fine.” She plucked at her skirt, realizing as she bent that one of the stays of her corset had torn through the soft cotton to jab her in the side. “Although I can’t say the same for my clothing. But it’s just clothing.” With her head high, she lifted her hem and marched away from him.

  At the edge of the barn, she turned in time to see Jake covering Uncle Walter. She looked back at Mitchell. His face was a mask of anger and pain. So much tragedy for him. Though he was released from that terrible blackmail, he had nothing, not a thing for his family. His herd had killed a man, and now his ranch faced foreclosure. When he glanced back at her with a hollow expression, she added another tragedy.

  They could never find happiness together.

  She swallowed hard. It was too late, or perhaps it was never meant to be.

  It wasn’t about any money, though, or the size of a house. Mitchell was simply too proud. And that pride had been ripped from him, along with a stampeding herd.

  Victoria frowned. Wouldn’t those mineral rights Uncle Walter had purchased have belonged to him, anyway, after the foreclosure? Why go through with the blackmail? Yes, he’d have had to share them with Clyde, but their value could have made both men rich, for iron and gold and rhyolite were valuable products. Why make Mitch sign over the rights when he just had to wait a day or two?

  Victoria trudged along, her mind trying desperately to find the answers she sought. Ahead of her, Mitchell walked so stiffly proud, it must have hurt him. She knew how he thought. He had nothing to give her, so he would not offer even a word of comfort.

  The trip into town with Mitchell driving was punctuated by only one short stop. The sheriff met them on the road, his horse as edgy as he himself appeared to be. Mitchell explained all that had happened, keeping his tone tight and clipped.

  “I saw the stampede,” the sheriff answered. “I was delayed because of my deputy, and when I saw the herd headed into town, I tried to divert it. My concern is mostly for the train. It had been delayed in Denver and has only just arrived. It doesn’t have a cow catcher on the front and if any wandered onto the track, they could have derailed the train.”

  “What happened to the deputy?” Mitchell looked even fouler than before. “Can you get him to find some men to round them up?”

  “My deputy is in the drunk tank. He is no longer employed in that capacity.” At their bewildered expressions, for Victoria had opened the coupe door to listen, the sheriff explained, “I had asked him to watch the Smith house, but he stayed only a few minutes. When someone reported a fight at the saloon with guns drawn, I went down there and found him unfit to work. This is why I didn’t leave for your ranch right away.”

  Victoria pursed her lips. So that was why no one had followed Uncle Walter when they left. At the thought of him, she turned toward Mitchell. “We had best be going. I need to see my aunt and cousin.”

  Mitchell eyed her, his frown deepening. She didn’t want to linger on what he might be thinking. All she knew was her aunt needed to hear the truth about tonight and Victoria was the best person to gently break it to her.

  Fatigue rolled over her but she fought it back. She needed to be strong, for if Aunt Louise decided to blame Mitchell for this, he needed an ally whether or not his pride wanted one.

  But as soon as Mitchell helped her out of the coupe and Victoria was standing in the Smith driveway, she felt all nerve, all strength and all courage drain from her as if someone had pulled the plug from the washbasin she’d used the day Rachel taught her how to wash clothes.

  Victoria’s knees then buckled and she collapsed to the ground.

  * * *

  Dim lamplight greeted Victoria as she opened her eyes. She was in her bed.

  In bed? She’d been tucked in her bed, her hair carefully braided and set to one side, her bedclothes snug around her. Blinking, she sat up, and seeing that she was alone, she eased back onto the well-fluffed pillows. Now she remembered. It had happened as soon as she’d stepped from Clyde’s coupe. The day had been long and she’d eaten nothing. With that and the broken stay in her corset constantly digging into her side, she’d collapsed. She vaguely recalled being given a draught to help her sleep, and feminine arms preparing her for bed.

  It must be the very early hours of Monday, before sunrise. With her lamp still lit, someone must have been sitting up all night with her. Mitchell? Her heart leaped at the thought, but whoever it had been was gone.

  After a few moments, when it became clear that her guardian wasn’t returning, Victoria slipped from her bed. She felt remarkably refreshed despite all that had happened. It was a new day, a chance to tell Mitchell how she felt, how she was willing to stand by him, even if he had nothing. She quickly set about completing her toilet. As she reached for her dark blue dress, her stomach growled in strong protest, but she had to ignore it. Food must wait.

  The choice of attire needed to be somber. Strange that last week, she’d hated somber clothing due to Charles’s death, and now the reaction was repeating itself with Walter’s.

  Victoria wondered who had broken the news to Aunt Louise and Rachel. She should be downstairs with them. But surely, it would be too early, especially if her aunt had been given a draught like she had been.

  Satisfied with her dress, she stepped into the hallway. Only one sconce at the end of the hall was lit, and Victoria returned to her room for her lamp. The mood of the house weighed heavy on her like the Boston weather in late summer when a humid afternoon pressed against the bones to warn of an impending thunderstorm. Scents of roasted meat and vegetables, of bread and something sweet snaked up to her, and Victoria was shamed by her empty stomach’s reaction to the fact that someone else was up early, cooking and baking.

  The tall grandfather clock in the hall downstairs struck the hour as Victoria stepped from the staircase. Pausing, she held her breath and counted. Eleven? How could it be eleven at night? She slowly stepped forward, trying to fathom how long she’d slept. It had been long past eleven when she and Mitchell had returned to the house, so it must be Monday night. Had she slept around the clock?

  Light squeezed out from under the closed door of her uncle’s study. A flickering light, with a shadow passing in front of it. Her aunt, searching for something? She should see her. Victoria pushed open the door.

  Clyde was rifling through some paperwork and lifted his head at the interruption.

  “You’re up.”

  Victoria felt her mouth thin. “What are you doing here?”

  “With Walter dead, I need to see to his business affairs. His will and such.”

  The hairs on her neck rose. “This late in the evening? Can it not wait until morning?”

  “No. It needs to be done by midnight.”

  That made no sense. “What needs to be done?”

  Clyde paused his search. “Where is the agreement?”

  “What agreement?”

  “The papers to conclude the sale of MacLeod’s mineral rights.”

  Bristling at Clyde’s sharp tone, Victoria stepped in toward the center of the room. “They were destroyed in the stampede. Whatever was left of them blew away.”

  “So MacLeod did sign the rights over to Walter?”

  Don’t answer. The two words sparked in her head. She stiffened her shoulders. “Whatever belonged to Walter, be it in this room or in any personal contracts, would be willed to Aunt Louise or Rachel.”

  Victoria paused. She was sure Mitchell had sold the rights to Uncle Walter, not to the bank. The reason had nagged at Victoria. Had it been done to stop Uncle Walter from having to share the rewards with Clyde? Why was Uncle Walter conspiring behind Clyde’s back?

  “I know what an honest man MacLeod is,” he said. “He won’t renege on an agreement, even if the paperwork has been destroyed.”

  Her thoughts raced. She was running on instinct alone and that instinct reminded her to stay silent. But what if Walter had willed the bank to Clyde? It was unlikely, as Walter hadn’t appeared to like his business partner enough to will everything to him.

  But Walter had been frustrated by his family’s disrespect of him. Had he planned to punish them after his death?

  Clyde returned to his search.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Walter took our copy of the mortgage MacLeod had taken out on his ranch. I know he brought it home. He would need it in case MacLeod didn’t sign those sale papers.” Clyde looked up. “MacLeod has less than an hour to make his mortgage payment or else he’s in default.”

  Victoria raced forward. “You can’t be serious! After all that happened, you don’t have the decency to stop work for a day?”

  “Ha! If you only knew. Do you think I’d risk losing this valuable opportunity?”

  “What valuable opportunity? The ranch? His herd is who knows where, and his best pasture nothing but a burned-out field.” She gasped. “You want the mineral rights, don’t you? You’re as bad as Uncle Walter.”

  Clyde chuckled.

  Victoria gasped as she suddenly realized something. “Uncle Walter was doing your bidding? He was your puppet. You’re the one who has been pulling the strings all along, yet Uncle Walter was trying to double-cross you.”

  Spying a set of papers, Clyde grabbed them before lifting his gaze to her. “Very astute. Oh, I’m not after just mineral rights. If MacLeod signed them once, he’ll sign them again. There is much more at stake than them.”

  “Such as?”

  “My bank holds the mortgages on most of the land and businesses here. Of course, some are thriving and will pay off what they owe in due time. The bank will get its share. But I will get the bank and eventually, I’ll own most of Proud Bend.”

  Victoria frowned. What about Aunt Louise and Rachel? Had Walter willed everything to Clyde?

  No. Something else was amiss.

  Clyde stopped rifling through the papers he’d found. “But back to the issue at hand. I have a proposition for you, Victoria. Do you want MacLeod to stay on his land, free of debt?”

  “Of course.”

  Clyde consulted his pocket watch. His expression showed mock worry. “He has only forty minutes to make his payment.”

  She rushed forward a few steps. “You can’t expect that, not after what has happened! Do you even know where Mitchell is? He’s probably seeing to his herd, even this late. They stampeded.”

  Clyde shook his head. “Ha! Rather, being relieved of the burden of your presence, he’s probably celebrating down at the saloon. He’s been there before, you know.”

  Victoria felt her face heat. “Only to escort Rachel as she did ministry work with the women.”

  “Rachel is a fool.” His gaze turned cunning, licentious. “You on the other hand, are quite a prize. I’m more than willing to relinquish my right to call in the loan on one small ranch. You see, you represent something far more valuable, whereas others, like Louise, are a waste.” He looked thoughtful. “Although, I was always surprised at how much she knew of Walter’s business dealings. She is quite intelligent. It’s too bad really that...”

  “That what? What are you saying?”

  Tucking the papers he’d found into his jacket, Clyde smiled. It was wide enough to see the gaps where his teeth were missing.

  “In about half an hour, I will go to MacLeod’s ranch and begin foreclosure proceedings on it.” Clyde shook his head. “He’ll have to move away. I heard that one large ranch in Texas is looking for good, reliable ranch hands.”

  “And the children?”

  “He’ll soon learn that he can’t keep them.” Clyde shrugged. “The boys can be shipped to various farms. The girls shoved into an orphanage, even the illegitimate brat. Oh, yes, I know about her. It doesn’t take a doctor to figure out that MacLeod isn’t her father. Ironic, really. The brat’s mother had hoped that by willing her share of the ranch to the baby, she’d be cared for, but now, the exact opposite will happen.” He laughed again, then sobered. “Of course, all this could be avoided if you marry me, Victoria. I’ll forgive the mortgage on MacLeod’s ranch.”

  He sounded so calm, as if this was a simple business transaction.

  “I’m not that valuable.”

  “Don’t pretend to be modest. It doesn’t become you. You’re too much like your uncle, too proud.”

  Victoria stepped back. She didn’t understand, nor did she care. All she could think about was Mitchell. Losing everything he’d worked for, and worse than that, losing his children. Even Emily.

  Please, Lord, let it not be!

  She had the answer. Suddenly she understood, in a small way, true sacrifice. How the evil of pride was stripped away and that in Jesus there was only sacrificial love.

  She knew, oh, so humbly, that her sacrifice would never compare to her Lord’s, but if it kept the family she loved together, she would do it.

  “If I agree to marry you, will you give me those mortgage papers and fully forgive his loan? Right away?”

  “Well, not quite that quickly. You see, I don’t trust you. We will marry first thing in the morning.”

  “But I want my mother here.”

  “That’s not possible. Besides, if she cares about her brother, she’ll be in mourning and so shocked that you’re marrying so soon after a death, she’ll have to be medicated, too.”

  Victoria didn’t understand. Who else would have to be medicated? Clyde’s words made no sense.

  He continued. “I’ll make the arrangements and you will tell your pastor you are more than happy to marry me with no coercion on anyone’s part. Once we’re married, I’ll give you the papers.”

  Victoria had witnessed enough arranged marriages to know that while Brahmin men valued honor, that didn’t always extend to others. She knew how her mother had handled those arrangements. Victoria’s expression was as cool as Clyde’s was false when she said, “In that case, we will have a neutral party hold the papers until the wedding is over. And I also reserve the right to examine the papers before they are handed over to said neutral party. That person will then be one of our witnesses. He will be instructed to hand those papers over to me as soon as the ceremony is completed.”