“Nakai!”

She ran through the rain without stopping to grab her shawl. Her bare feet slipped against the muddy porch as she rounded the corner of the boardinghouse.

For one terrible moment, she saw nothing.

Then lightning illuminated the yard.

Nakai was lying beside the fallen ladder, one arm wrapped around a wooden support beam. Blood ran down his forehead, and his shoulder was twisted beneath him.

But he was alive.

“Nakai!”

His eyes opened.

“Mrs. Bellamy,” he muttered, attempting a smile. “You shouldn’t be standing in this rain.”

She dropped to her knees beside him.

“Don’t you dare tell me what I should do!”

He gave a faint laugh, then winced.

With extraordinary effort, she helped him into the house. Chiva, despite his injured leg, managed to reach the hallway and summon another guest to help.

For the next hour, Eudora cleaned Nakai’s wounds and wrapped his injured shoulder.

When she finished, he was lying in the downstairs bedroom, his shirt open at the collar.

“You could have died,” she whispered.

“I’ve survived worse.”

“That doesn’t make you invincible.”

He studied her face.

“You were frightened.”

“Of course I was. You’re a guest in my house.”

“Only a guest?”

Eudora looked away.

She hated how easily he could make her blush.

“Get some sleep.”

As she turned, his fingers gently caught her wrist.

“Thank you for coming after me.”

She looked down at his hand.

For a moment, neither spoke.

Then he released her.

That night, Eudora couldn’t sleep.

She sat beside her bedroom window, listening to the rain and thinking about the man sleeping across the hall.

She remembered Harold.

His cold hands.

His distant voice.

The years she had spent convincing herself that companionship was enough.

And now there was Nakai, a man young enough to have been her son, who had looked at her as though she were a woman rather than merely the owner of a boardinghouse.

The thought frightened her.

The following morning, she discovered something beneath the wooden chair in Nakai’s room.

A faded blue silk ribbon.

It was old, its edges frayed, but carefully folded.

When she picked it up, Nakai suddenly appeared in the doorway.

“Where did you find that?”

His expression had changed completely.

“Under the chair. Is it important?”

He walked toward her and gently took it.

“It belonged to my mother.”

Eudora noticed the sadness in his eyes.

“She must have been a wonderful woman.”

“She was.”

He folded the ribbon carefully and placed it inside his pocket.

“She gave it to me before she died. She told me that one day I would meet someone who reminded me what kindness looked like.”

Eudora smiled sadly.

“Your mother sounds wise.”

“She also told me never to mistake loneliness for love.”

His eyes met hers.

“I’ve remembered that.”

Before Eudora could answer, someone knocked violently at the front door.

It was Ambrose Pike.

Behind him stood two armed men and Sheriff Colton.

“Mrs. Bellamy,” Pike announced, “we have a serious problem.”

Eudora stepped onto the porch.

“What now?”

Pike pointed toward Nakai.

“That man is accused of stealing horses from the Red Rock ranch. The sheriff has an arrest warrant.”

Nakai remained silent.

Sheriff Colton stepped forward.

“Mr. Nakai, you’ll need to come with us.”

Chiva struggled to rise from his bed.

“That’s a lie! Nakai hasn’t stolen anything!”

Pike sneered.

“Naturally, his cousin would defend him.”

Eudora looked between the men.

“Do you have evidence?”

Pike produced a small piece of paper.

“Three horses disappeared two nights ago. Witnesses saw an Apache rider near the ranch.”

Nakai’s jaw тιԍнтened.

“I was here.”

“Can anyone prove that?” the sheriff asked.

Eudora stepped forward.

“I can.”

Everyone turned toward her.

“He spent the entire night repairing my stable. I was awake during the storm, and I saw him working until nearly midnight.”

Pike laughed.

“How convenient.”

Eudora’s face hardened.

“Be careful, Mr. Pike. You’re standing on my property, accusing a man without proof.”

The sheriff hesitated.

Then Nakai spoke.

“Let them search my belongings.”

Eudora turned toward him.

“You don’t have to prove your innocence to men who have already decided you’re guilty.”

His expression softened.

“Sometimes, Mrs. Bellamy, the truth needs witnesses.”

The search revealed nothing.

But just as the sheriff prepared to leave, one of the armed men noticed something hanging from Nakai’s saddle.

A leather pouch.

Inside was a silver pocket watch.

Pike immediately recognized it.

“That’s mine!”

The porch fell silent.

“I lost that watch last week!” he shouted. “I knew this man was a thief!”

Nakai stared at the object.

“I have never seen it before.”

“Then explain how it got into your belongings!”

Eudora noticed something strange.

The leather pouch was tied with a blue silk ribbon.

The same color as the ribbon Nakai had found in his room.

But before she could speak, Nakai’s eyes met hers.

He understood.

Someone had planted the watch.

And whoever had done it knew exactly where to find his belongings.

The sheriff ordered the men to take Nakai into custody.

Eudora stepped between them.

“You will not take him without a proper investigation.”

Pike leaned close to her.

“You’re making a dangerous mistake, widow. People around here won’t tolerate you defending an Apache.”

Eudora looked him straight in the eye.

“Then perhaps it’s time they learned to tolerate the truth.”

Nakai was taken away.

As the sheriff’s wagon disappeared down the road, Eudora noticed something lying on the porch.

A small folded note.

She opened it.

Five words were written in hurried handwriting:

ASK WHAT HAPPENED TO HAROLD.

Her blood ran cold.

Harold had been ᴅᴇᴀᴅ for seven years.

What could her husband’s death possibly have to do with Nakai?

She turned the paper over.

There was a second sentence.

YOUR HUSBAND DID NOT DIE BY ACCIDENT.

Eudora’s fingers began trembling.

For seven years, she had believed Harold’s horse had thrown him during a journey to Tucson.

But suddenly, memories returned.

The locked drawer in his office.

The unexplained visits from Ambrose Pike.

The argument she had overheard between the two men three days before Harold died.

And the faded blue ribbon she had once seen tucked inside her husband’s private ledger.

That evening, Eudora traveled to the sheriff’s office.

Nakai was sitting behind the bars, his injured shoulder wrapped in clean linen.

When he saw her, he stood immediately.

“You shouldn’t have come.”

She approached the cell.

“Someone left me a message.”

His expression changed.

“What message?”

She unfolded the paper.

Nakai read it.

Then he closed his eyes.

“I was afraid this day would come.”

Eudora gripped the bars.

“You know something about my husband.”

He looked at her for a long moment.

“Your husband was investigating a land theft involving several ranches. He discovered that men were taking land from Apache families using forged documents.”

“Who?”

“Ambrose Pike was involved.”

Eudora felt the room tilt.

“And Harold?”

Nakai lowered his voice.

“He found evidence. He planned to bring it to the territorial authorities. But someone discovered what he was doing.”

“Are you saying Pike killed my husband?”

“I’m saying your husband didn’t die because his horse stumbled.”

Tears filled Eudora’s eyes.

For seven years, she had mourned a man without knowing that his death might have been deliberate.

Nakai reached through the bars and gently covered her hand.

“I came to Bellamy House because I was looking for Harold’s missing ledger. I never expected to find you.”

Eudora stared at him.

“Then everything was a lie? The repairs? Your kindness?”

“No.”

His answer came immediately.

“I came looking for evidence. But I stayed because of you.”

She looked at his injured shoulder.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t know whether you were safe. And because I wanted to know you without making you carry the weight of my suspicions.”

For a long moment, Eudora couldn’t speak.

Then she whispered:

“I thought I had already lost everything worth loving.”

Nakai’s expression softened.

“You haven’t.”

He took the faded blue ribbon from his pocket and placed it in her palm.

“Keep this. If anything happens to me, take it to the old mission outside Tucson. Ask for Father Mateo. He knows where the ledger is hidden.”

Eudora closed her fingers around it.

“Nothing is going to happen to you.”

Nakai gave her a sad smile.

“Promise me you’ll be careful.”

She leaned closer to the bars.

“And you promise me something.”

“What?”

“That you’ll come back to Bellamy House.”

He looked into her eyes.

“I will. And when I return, I want to speak to you about something important.”

“What?”

His voice became almost a whisper.

“About a future in which neither of us has to spend another night feeling alone.”

Eudora felt her heart pounding.

But before she could answer, a gunsH๏τ exploded outside the sheriff’s office.

The lights went out.

Someone shouted.

Then the sound of breaking glᴀss filled the hallway.

Nakai grabbed Eudora and pulled her down just as a bullet tore through the wooden wall above them.

Through the darkness, a familiar voice called out.

“Give us the widow and the ribbon, Apache. Or neither of you will leave this building alive!”

Eudora recognized the voice immediately.

Ambrose Pike.

And in that terrifying moment, she realized the truth.

The man who had destroyed her husband’s life was now determined to destroy the only man who had ever made her feel truly alive.

To be continued in Part 3 — The Secret in Harold Bellamy’s Ledger.