PART 2 — THE MARRIAGE WAS ONLY THE BEGINNING

Pearl had expected Hyram to ask for more.

Gold. A share of the land. Perhaps even a promise that she would behave like a proper wife once the magistrate had signed the papers.

Instead, he wanted hay for three mules and a corner of her tack room.

It was the strangest bargain she had ever made.

By noon, they were riding down the mountain.

Hyram rode ahead, his broad shoulders wrapped in a dark canvas coat. Pearl followed on her father’s old mare, keeping her eyes on the narrow trail. Neither spoke much.

But when the wind rose and snow began drifting across the path, Hyram slowed his horse.

“Stay behind me,” he called.

“I’m perfectly capable of riding.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t.”

He continued down the trail without another word.

Pearl frowned. Somehow, that answer irritated her more than an argument would have.

By late afternoon, the valley appeared below them.

Her father’s homestead stood beside a frozen creek, its weathered barn and white farmhouse surrounded by tall pines. Pearl felt something тιԍнтen in her chest.

She had grown up there.

Her mother had planted apple trees beside the kitchen window. Her father had built the barn with his own hands. Every fence post carried a memory.

And now her uncle intended to sell it to strangers.

Hyram noticed her staring.

“That’s a good piece of land.”

“It was supposed to stay in our family.”

“Then let’s make sure it does.”

Pearl looked at him.

He was already riding toward the barn.

Rufus was waiting on the porch.

He was a narrow-shouldered man in an expensive brown coat, with a gold watch chain stretched across his vest. His hair was neatly combed, and his boots were polished despite the mud.

His expression changed when he saw Pearl.

Then it changed again when he noticed Hyram.

“Well, well. You’ve brought yourself a husband.”

Pearl dismounted.

“Tomorrow morning, we’ll visit the magistrate.”

Rufus laughed.

“Tomorrow? The railway representatives arrive Monday. The agreement has already been prepared.”

“Then they’ll have to wait.”

“You’re forgetting something, little girl.”

He stepped down from the porch.

“Your father appointed me guardian because he knew you were too young to manage this property. He trusted me to protect it.”

“You were supposed to protect it for me.”

“I have protected it. I’ve paid taxes, maintained the fences, and kept this place from falling apart.”

“With my father’s money.”

Rufus’s smile disappeared.

Hyram stepped between them, not aggressively, but firmly enough to end the conversation.

“Where’s the barn?”

Rufus blinked.

“What?”

“The barn. I have three mules that need shelter.”

“This is a family matter.”

“Not anymore,” Hyram replied. “I’m her husband.”

The words sounded so unfamiliar coming from him that Pearl nearly turned to stare.

Rufus looked between them.

Then he smiled again.

It was not a pleasant smile.

“Enjoy your little arrangement. You have no idea what you’ve married into, gunsmith.”

He turned toward the house.

“Pearl, we need to talk. Alone.”

“No,” she answered.

For the first time, her uncle seemed genuinely surprised.

That evening, Pearl showed Hyram the tack room.

It was small, with a narrow window and an old wooden cot. Hyram examined the floorboards, checked the roof for leaks, and declared it acceptable.

“You don’t waste words, do you?” Pearl asked.

“Not unless they’re useful.”

She almost smiled.

Then she remembered the morning.

“Why did you really agree to marry me?”

Hyram hung his coat on a wooden peg.

“I told you. My mules need a barn.”

“You could have rented space somewhere else.”

“Not with the money I have.”

“Then why not take the gold?”

He looked at her.

“Because you need it more than I do.”

Pearl lowered her eyes.

She wasn’t accustomed to hearing anyone say such a thing.

Hyram picked up his toolbox.

“Get some sleep. Tomorrow we’ll visit the magistrate.”

As he reached the doorway, Pearl spoke again.

“My uncle won’t give up.”

Hyram stopped.

“Then he can learn what it feels like to lose something.”

The following morning, they reached the magistrate’s office shortly after sunrise.

The building was cold, and the clerk seemed annoyed to be working before the church bells rang.

Pearl placed her father’s trust agreement on the desk.

Hyram stood beside her.

The magistrate read the document carefully.

Then he removed his spectacles.

“There’s a problem.”

Pearl’s stomach тιԍнтened.

“What problem?”

The magistrate turned the last page toward them.

“Your father’s trust contains an additional condition. It says the guardian’s authority ends upon your marriage, but only if the marriage is entered into freely and without coercion.”

Pearl nodded.

“I came here willingly.”

“I understand. However, there’s another matter.”

He pointed to a paragraph near the bottom.

“Your father also required the guardian to produce a complete accounting of the estate before transferring control.”

Pearl frowned.

“Rufus never gave me an accounting.”

The magistrate looked at her.

“Then we cannot finalize the transfer until those records are examined.”

Hyram’s expression hardened.

“How long?”

“Several days. Possibly longer.”

Pearl gripped the edge of the desk.

“Monday is tomorrow.”

The magistrate nodded.

“And I understand the railway company intends to sign the purchase agreement then.”

Hyram leaned forward.

“Can they legally purchase the land while the trust is under review?”

“Not if a formal dispute is filed today.”

Pearl looked at the magistrate.

“Then file it.”

The clerk reached for a fresh document.

But before he could begin, the office door opened.

Rufus entered carrying a leather portfolio.

Behind him stood a railway representative.

“There’s no need for any dispute,” Rufus announced. “I’ve brought the accounting.”

Pearl turned.

Her uncle placed a stack of papers on the desk.

“Everything is in order.”

The magistrate began examining the pages.

Then his expression changed.

He looked at Pearl.

“Miss Pearl, according to these records, your father sold the eastern pasture three years ago.”

Pearl stared at him.

“That’s impossible.”

Rufus smiled.

“Your father signed the papers himself.”

Hyram looked down at the document.

Then he noticed something.

The signature was dated six months after Pearl’s father had been buried.

He slowly raised his eyes.

“That’s an interesting trick,” he said.

Rufus’s smile vanished.

Because Hyram had just discovered that the man Pearl trusted least in the world had made one mistake.

He had forged the signature of a ᴅᴇᴀᴅ man.