PART 2 — THE SECRET BENEATH THE BROKEN ROOF

The beam crashed down with a deafening roar.

Clara threw herself sideways. Splintered wood struck the porch steps, scattering pieces across the muddy ground. One sharp fragment caught her sleeve, but she barely noticed.

For several seconds, she could only stare at the destruction.

Her home.

The last thing Jonah had left her.

And now even that seemed determined to disappear.

“Clara!”

A familiar voice thundered across the yard.

Gideon Stone came riding through the gate, his black stallion barely slowing before he leaped from the saddle.

He reached her in three strides.

“Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

He glanced at her bleeding hands, then at the fallen beam.

“That isn’t what I asked.”

“I said I’m fine.”

Gideon studied her face. Then he looked toward the roof.

“Come inside. This porch isn’t safe.”

“I don’t need—”

“Clara, please.”

Something in his voice stopped her.

He offered his hand, but she hesitated before taking it. His palm was enormous, warm, and rough from years of ranch work.

He helped her across the broken boards.

Inside, the house looked worse than she had realized. A section of the roof had begun to sag, and the ceiling above the kitchen was stained from months of leaking rain.

Gideon removed his coat and laid it over her shoulders.

“When did you last have someone inspect this place?”

“Jonah used to handle repairs.”

“And after he died?”

“I learned.”

His eyes moved to her hands.

“Learning shouldn’t mean doing everything alone.”

Clara pulled his coat тιԍнтer around herself.

“Why did you come back?”

“I left my gloves.”

She glanced toward his saddle.

“You’re not wearing gloves.”

He looked briefly uncomfortable.

“Perhaps I left something else.”

“Mr. Stone, I don’t have the strength for riddles.”

He sighed.

“I saw the storm coming from the ridge. I thought you might need help.”

“I didn’t ask for it.”

“No. You didn’t.”

“Then why?”

“Because I wanted to make sure you were alive.”

The words unsettled her more than she expected.

Gideon stepped outside and examined the broken porch. He returned with a hammer and a coil of rope from his saddle.

“I can brace the roof until morning. Tomorrow, I’ll bring lumber.”

“I cannot pay you.”

“I didn’t ask for money.”

“Then what do you want?”

He met her gaze.

“Your honest answer when I ask whether you’ve considered my proposal.”

Clara looked away.

Before she could respond, a sharp knock sounded at the front door.

A thin man in a brown coat stood outside, holding a leather folder.

“Mrs. Vance?”

“Yes?”

“My name is Silas Bell. I’m representing the Raven Pᴀss Land Company.”

Clara frowned.

“What does your company want?”

Bell glanced at Gideon before returning his attention to her.

“We’ve been interested in purchasing your property.”

“It’s not for sale.”

“You might reconsider when you understand what it’s worth.”

Gideon stepped forward.

“She said no.”

Bell’s smile тιԍнтened.

“I wasn’t speaking to you, Stone.”

“And she answered you.”

The visitor opened his folder.

“Your husband’s property includes a water easement that was never properly registered. There are questions about the boundary. If the county rules against your claim, you could lose the spring behind the house.”

Clara felt the room tilt.

The spring was the only reliable water source on her land.

“That’s impossible. Jonah showed me the deed.”

“Then perhaps you should find it,” Bell replied. “Because unless you can produce the original, I wouldn’t count on keeping this property.”

He placed a card on the table.

“My offer stands for seven days.”

Then he left.

Clara stared at the card.

Seven days.

The same amount of time Gideon had given her to decide whether to marry him.

“Do you know anything about this?” she asked.

Gideon didn’t answer immediately.

That silence frightened her.

“Gideon?”

“I know the spring is valuable.”

“How valuable?”

“More than your house and pasture combined.”

Clara felt her stomach тιԍнтen.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I wanted to understand the situation before frightening you.”

“You mean you already knew?”

“I suspected.”

She stepped away from him.

“Did you come here because of the land?”

“No.”

“Then why does everyone suddenly want something from me?”

Gideon looked at her with an expression she couldn’t read.

“Clara, listen carefully. I don’t want your land.”

“Convenient.”

“I have more acreage than I can manage. I don’t need another property.”

“Then perhaps your proposal was never about marriage.”

His jaw тιԍнтened.

“Don’t confuse me with Silas Bell.”

She turned toward the window.

Outside, the wind was gathering strength again.

“I need you to leave.”

Gideon stood motionless for a moment.

Then he picked up his coat.

“I’ll return tomorrow with lumber. You can tell me to leave again if you wish.”

“I may.”

“I know.”

He walked to the door.

But before stepping outside, he turned.

“One more thing. Don’t sign anything Bell gives you. Not even a receipt.”

“Why?”

“Because men like him rarely ask for what they already own.”

Then he disappeared into the cold evening.

Clara stood alone.

For a long time, she stared at the card on the table.

Finally, she went to Jonah’s old desk.

She searched through drawers filled with receipts, old letters, and forgotten tools. Behind a loose wooden panel, her fingers touched something wrapped in faded cloth.

It was a small brᴀss key.

And beneath it lay a folded letter.

The handwriting was Jonah’s.

Clara, if anyone ever comes asking about the spring, find the original deed. I placed it where no one would think to look. Forgive me for keeping this from you. I was trying to protect you.

Her hands trembled.

At the bottom was a final sentence.

Trust the man who remembers what happened the winter I nearly died.

Clara read it twice.

Then she looked toward the dark window.

What had happened that winter?

And why had Jonah never told her?