PART 2 — THE MAN WHO BOUGHT FOUR SISTERS

The stranger stepped into the sunlight.

He was enormous.

Not merely tall, though he stood well over six feet, but broad through the shoulders, with a weathered coat hanging from his frame and a beard threaded with gray. A long scar ran from his left temple to the corner of his jaw, disappearing beneath his collar.

His black hat shadowed a pair of pale, steady eyes.

He walked with a slight limp.

The crowd parted without being asked.

Della had seen men pretend to be dangerous before. This man did not pretend.

He stopped several feet from the auction platform and looked at the four sisters.

His gaze lingered briefly on Posy, whose small hand was still wrapped around Della’s.

Then he turned toward Griswold.

“How much?”

Griswold straightened in his chair.

“You’re interested in the eldest?”

“All four.”

A murmur moved through the crowd.

Griswold blinked.

“I’m not certain you understand the arrangement.”

“I understand perfectly.”

The stranger removed a leather purse from his coat and placed it on the clerk’s table.

“Whatever amount you’ve managed to collect, I’ll pay it.”

Griswold’s eyes brightened.

“Well, now, that’s a different matter. We were discussing—”

“I wasn’t.”

The stranger’s voice was quiet, but it carried across the street.

“I said I’ll take all four.”

Della’s fingers тιԍнтened around Posy’s hand.

She had expected to fight. She had expected to use the knife beneath her skirt, even if it meant she never walked away from that platform.

But this?

This was another kind of danger.

A man who could buy four sisters without blinking might have reasons far worse than the men bidding on them individually.

She leaned toward Blythe.

“Stay close to me.”

Blythe nodded.

Wren stared at the stranger with open suspicion.

“Why would you want us?” she demanded.

A few men laughed.

The stranger didn’t.

“Because you’re standing on a platform where nobody should have put you.”

Griswold cleared his throat.

“Now, Mr.—”

“Rourke.”

“Mr. Rourke, these girls are legally contracted against their father’s outstanding debt. The matter has been settled according to territorial procedure.”

Rourke looked at him.

“Then you won’t mind showing me the original contract.”

Griswold’s smile faded.

“That’s unnecessary.”

“Funny. Men who have nothing to hide usually don’t mind showing their papers.”

Someone in the crowd chuckled.

Griswold’s yellow fingers тιԍнтened around his gavel.

“Are you questioning the law?”

“I’m questioning you.”

The sheriff finally lowered his boots from the railing.

“That’s enough, Rourke. You want the girls, you pay the debt. That’s how it works.”

Rourke turned toward him.

“Then tell me why four children are being auctioned in the street.”

“One is twenty-two.”

“Three aren’t.”

The sheriff’s face reddened.

“Careful.”

Rourke didn’t move.

“I’ve been careful my whole life, Sheriff. That’s why I’m still standing.”

He opened the leather purse and counted out the money.

The amount was more than Griswold had demanded.

Much more.

Della watched the coins fall onto the table.

She hated every one of them.

She hated the way the men stared at her sisters, the way Griswold smiled, and the way the sheriff pretended this was an ordinary transaction.

Most of all, she hated that she couldn’t tell whether the scarred stranger was saving them or simply purchasing them for a different purpose.

When the money was counted, Griswold reached for a document.

“Sign here, Mr. Rourke.”

Rourke examined it.

Then he pushed it back.

“No.”

Griswold frowned.

“What do you mean, no?”

“I’ll pay the money. I won’t sign a paper claiming these girls belong to me.”

The crowd grew quiet.

“Then what are you buying?” Griswold snapped.

Rourke looked at Della.

“Their release.”

He reached into his coat and placed another paper on the table.

“This is a receipt for the debt, paid in full. It says nothing about ownership. It says nothing about service. And it says nothing about where they must go afterward.”

Griswold’s expression twisted.

“That’s not the document I prepared.”

“That’s why I brought my own.”

For the first time, Della noticed a second man standing behind Rourke.

He was younger, clean-shaven, and dressed in a respectable dark suit. He carried a leather case and had the patient expression of someone who spent his days reading documents other men hoped nobody would examine.

He stepped forward.

“My name is Daniel Pike. I’m a licensed attorney from Laramie. I’ll witness the payment and retain copies of every document signed today.”

Griswold went pale.

The sheriff stood.

“You brought a lawyer to a debt auction?”

“I brought a lawyer because I suspected this town had forgotten the difference between a debt and a human being.”

A low murmur spread through the crowd.

Griswold’s jaw тιԍнтened.

“Fine. Take them. But don’t come complaining when they turn out to be more trouble than they’re worth.”

Rourke looked at him for a long moment.

“That won’t be your concern.”

Then he stepped toward the platform.

Della didn’t move.

He stopped below her.

“Come down, Miss Crane.”

“Why?”

His eyes shifted to the knife-shaped bulge beneath her skirt.

“Because you’ve been carrying that blade for eleven days, and I don’t think you need it anymore.”

Della went still.

Wren looked at her.

Blythe’s mouth fell open.

Posy simply whispered, “Della?”

Rourke lowered his voice.

“I’m not asking you to trust me. I’m asking you to get your sisters off that platform.”

Della studied him.

There was no smile on his face. No impatience. No promise that everything would be wonderful.

Just a man standing in the dust, waiting.

She made her decision.

First, she helped Posy down. Then Wren. Then Blythe.

Finally, she stepped onto the street herself.

The stranger moved aside to give her room.

“Where are you taking us?” she asked.

“North.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“No,” he agreed. “It isn’t.”

He turned toward the waiting wagon.

Della didn’t follow.

“Mr. Rourke.”

He looked back.

“If you intend to separate us, you’ll have to do it while I’m standing.”

His expression changed slightly.

Then he nodded toward her sisters.

“Look at them, Miss Crane. Do you see any ropes? Any chains? Any man waiting to take one of them away?”

Della glanced around.

There was only his wagon, two horses, the attorney, and a small wooden trunk strapped behind the driver’s seat.

Rourke continued.

“They’ll stay together. All four of you. That’s the only arrangement I came here to make.”

“Why?”

He looked at Posy.

For the first time, something in his face softened.

“Because I know what it is to have a family taken apart by men who thought money made them powerful.”

Before Della could ask what he meant, Griswold shouted from behind them.

“Rourke!”

The scarred man stopped.

“You may have paid the debt, but I want you to remember something. Abe Crane didn’t owe me just money. He owed me interest on the mill, the land, and the livestock.”

Daniel Pike turned sharply.

“That’s not what your ledger says.”

Griswold ignored him.

“There’s a second agreement. One that wasn’t included in today’s payment.”

Della felt the ground shift beneath her.

“What second agreement?”

Griswold smiled.

“Ask your new protector what he knows about the Crane mill.”

Rourke’s jaw тιԍнтened.

“Get in the wagon, Della.”

It was the first time he had used her given name.

She didn’t move.

“What does he mean?”

Rourke looked at her.

“Your father left something behind.”

“What?”

“A debt that wasn’t written in Griswold’s ledger.”

“Then why did you pay him?”

“Because I wanted you free before he could use it against you.”

Della stepped closer.

“You knew my father?”

Rourke looked toward the distant hills.

“I knew him well enough to owe him my life.”

Then he climbed onto the driver’s seat.

“Get in. I’ll explain when we’re away from this town.”

Della helped her sisters into the wagon.

As she climbed aboard, she glanced back at the auction platform.

Griswold was no longer smiling.

He was speaking quietly to the sheriff.

And the sheriff was looking directly at them.

The journey north began beneath a burning August sun.

For several miles, nobody spoke.

Posy fell asleep against Blythe. Wren sat with her arms crossed, watching the road. Della kept her eyes on the man driving.

Finally, she broke the silence.

“How did you know about the knife?”

Rourke kept his gaze ahead.

“Because I had a sister once.”

Della’s throat тιԍнтened.

“What happened to her?”

He took a long time to answer.

“She was sold under a debt agreement. I was too young to stop it.”

The wagon rolled over a stone.

“And did you find her?”

Rourke’s hands тιԍнтened around the reins.

“No.”

The answer was so quiet that Della almost missed it.

Then he reached beneath the driver’s seat and brought out a small wooden box.

He placed it beside her.

“Your father gave me this six months before he died. He said if anything happened to him, I was to give it to his eldest daughter.”

Della stared at the box.

On its lid were four words, carved in familiar handwriting.

For my four brave girls.

She opened it.

Inside lay four small silver pendants, each engraved with a different flower.

A rose.

A violet.

A bluebell.

And a daisy.

Posy woke and immediately reached for the smallest one.

“That’s mine,” she whispered.

Della smiled sadly.

Then she noticed a folded paper beneath the pendants.

She opened it.

Her father’s handwriting filled the page.

Della, if Rourke has brought you this, then the worst has happened.

Do not blame him for what you are about to learn.

The mill was never ours to sell.

And the men who claim it belongs to them will come looking for you.

Della read the final line twice.

Then she looked up at the scarred mountain man.

“Mr. Rourke, what did my father hide?”

He didn’t answer.

Because at that moment, a rifle sH๏τ cracked from the ridge above them.

The horses startled.

Rourke seized the reins and pulled the wagon toward the trees.

“Down!” he shouted.

Della threw herself over Posy as another sH๏τ struck the wagon’s wooden side.

And from somewhere behind them, a man called out:

“Bring us the Crane girls alive! We only need the eldest to tell us where the deed is!”

Della looked at Rourke.

His face had gone cold.

“Now,” he said, “you understand why I came.”