PART 6: THE LETTER BENEATH THE FLOORBOARDS

The stranger left before sunrise.

Wilder watched his horse disappear into the trees.

She waited until Goss returned to the cabin.

“Who was that man?”

Goss removed his gloves.

“An old friend.”

“Does he know my father?”

“Yes.”

“Does he know where the deed is?”

Goss looked at her.

“Yes.”

Wilder folded her arms.

“Then I think it’s time you stopped deciding how much truth I can handle.”

For several seconds, Goss said nothing.

Then he nodded.

“You’re right.”

He walked to the bed and pulled it away from the wall.

Beneath it was a loose floorboard.

He lifted it carefully.

Inside the narrow space lay a sealed envelope.

Wilder recognized the handwriting immediately.

Her father’s.

Goss handed it to her.

“This was meant for you.”

She opened it.

My dearest Wilder,

If Goss has given you this letter, then he has kept his promise.

I need you to understand something.

I did not trade you because you were too much trouble.

I traded you because I was running out of time.

The man who threatened me was not Silas alone.

There was another man. A powerful man. He wanted the land I had purchased, and he knew I would never sell it.

He told me that if I refused, he would make certain you had no future.

I believed him.

I was wrong to believe that sending you away would solve everything.

But I was right about one thing.

You are stronger than any man who tries to own you.

Wilder’s hands trembled.

She continued.

The deed is hidden in the one place Silas would never look.

The old church in Pincher Creek.

Beneath the floorboards of the room where your mother used to sing.

And there is something else.

The land is not merely a farm.

There is a spring beneath it. A natural spring that never freezes, even in the coldest winter.

The man who wants it believes he can build a settlement there.

He has already made plans.

His name is Everett Caldwell.

Wilder stopped reading.

“Everett Caldwell?”

Goss’s expression hardened.

“He’s a land speculator.”

“My father knew him?”

“He knew what Caldwell wanted.”

Wilder looked down at the letter.

“And Silas helped him?”

“Yes.”

She took a shaky breath.

“Then we need to go to Pincher Creek.”

Goss shook his head.

“Not yet.”

Wilder’s eyes narrowed.

“Why?”

“Because Caldwell knows you’re here.”

“And?”

“He knows your father left you the land.”

“Then he knows I have every reason to go.”

Goss looked at her for a long moment.

Then he nodded.

“All right.”

They left the next morning.

The journey down the mountain took several hours. Wilder sat beside Goss in the wagon, her father’s letter tucked safely inside her coat.

She was no longer the woman who had arrived with a trunk and a paper bag of stale biscuits.

She was a woman who knew what she was looking for.

The old church stood at the edge of Pincher Creek.

Its paint had peeled. Its windows were dusty. The bell tower leaned slightly to one side.

Wilder had not entered it in years.

She remembered her mother singing there.

She remembered sitting beside her father during winter services.

She remembered the smell of candle wax and pine.

Goss waited outside while she entered.

The room was empty.

Wilder walked toward the small choir platform.

Beneath it, the floorboards were uneven.

She knelt and ran her fingers along the wood.

One board shifted.

She pulled it free.

Inside the space was a small metal box.

Her hands trembled as she opened it.

There lay the deed.

And beneath it, another letter.

This one was not from her father.

It was addressed to Goss.

Wilder opened it.

Goss,

If you are reading this, then Caldwell has discovered the truth.

There is something I never told you.

The night Patrick Flanigan died, I was with him.

I saw who entered his house.

And I know who signed the papers that sent Wilder to your mountain.

It was not Silas.

It was the man who has been pretending to help you.

Wilder looked up.

Goss stood in the doorway.

His face had gone pale.

“What is it?” she asked.

He didn’t answer.

She held out the letter.

He read it once.

Then again.

And for the first time since Wilder had met him, the mountain man looked genuinely afraid.

Because the letter ended with a name.

A name Goss had trusted for fifteen years.

The Reverend Thomas Hale.

The same reverend who had delivered Wilder to the trailhead.

The same man who had shaken her father’s hand before the auction.

The same man who had told her that Goss was a dangerous, heartless man.

Wilder felt the room grow cold.

“Why would he do that?”

Goss folded the letter.

“Because he knows what your land is worth.”

Wilder stared at him.

“Then we have to tell the sheriff.”

Goss shook his head.

“Not yet.”

“Why?”

He looked toward the church doors.

“Because the reverend isn’t the only person who knows we’re here.”

Outside, a horse neighed.

Then another.

Wilder turned toward the window.

Three riders had stopped in front of the church.

At their center sat Everett Caldwell.

He removed his hat and smiled.

“Miss Wilder,” he called. “I believe you have something that belongs to me.”

Goss stepped forward.

Wilder caught his arm.

“No.”

He looked down at her.

She raised her chin.

“This is my land. My father’s deed. My future.”

Then she walked toward the door.

Caldwell’s smile widened.

But before Wilder could speak, the reverend stepped out from behind the riders.

He held a folded paper in his hand.

And the words he spoke next changed everything.

“Your father didn’t leave you the land, Wilder.”

He lifted the document.

“He left it to someone else.”

Wilder stared at him.

“Who?”

The reverend looked directly at Goss.

“To the man who bought you.”

And suddenly, Wilder understood why Goss had never told her the entire truth.

Because the land she had spent her life believing was hers…

Had never been hers at all.

END OF PART 6

Part 7: The Mountain Man’s Inheritance — Wilder discovers why her father placed the land in Goss’s name, and the shocking truth about the two geldings that changed her life forever.