Thomas pulled a folded paper from inside his coat, holding it up like a prize. “Miss Rose, I believe this belongs to you.”
She pressed her hand to her mouth, staring at the document as though it might disappear if she looked away. “You really did it. You got my contract.”
Thomas’s grin widened despite the exhaustion etched in the lines around his eyes. “Vincent keeps meticulous records. I’ll give him that. Your contract was right where you said it would be—filed alphabetically in a leather case marked ‘Rose.’”
She reached for the paper. Her fingers shook as she unfolded it, and he had to resist the urge to step closer, to offer her the steadiness she so clearly needed.
But Robert was already there beside her, easily slipping into the role of her confidant and advisor. Rose even tipped the paper for him to better see.
The jealousy twisted in James’s gut again, sharp and unwelcome. Here was the moment Rose had been waiting for—the key to her freedom—and she was sharing it with Robert while James stood on the periphery like a stranger.
“Let’s get inside.” His voice came out a bit too rough. “Thomas looks half-frozen, and we need to read through that document properly.”
James pushed open the front door, stepping back to let Thomas pass, but his attention remained fixed on Rose. She clutched the contract against her chest like a lifeline.
The warmth of the great room felt almost shocking after the bitter cold outside, but it did nothing to ease the tension coiled in his chest.
Thomas shrugged out of his snow-dusted coat and moved toward the fire, holding his hands out to the flames. “That’s better. I thought I might freeze to the saddle on that last stretch.”
Rose sank onto the sofa where she’d been sitting with Robert moments before, the contract spread across her lap. Robert immediately settled beside her again, leaning in to read over her shoulder with that same focused attention.
He should be grateful Robert was helping her, that his brother’s legal knowledge might be the key to her freedom. Instead, all he could think about was how easily she turned to Robert, how she never looked at James with that same trust and reliance.
He remained standing, though restless energy coursed through his limbs. He turned to Thomas. “Tell us what happened. How did you get in?”
Thomas rubbed his hands together, working warmth back into his fingers. “Waited until the saloon was busy—around ten o’clock that night. Slipped in through the front door with a group of miners who’d had a few drinks. No one pays attention to another face in a crowd like that.”
He paused to accept the cup of coffee Mrs. Wang pressed into his hands, nodding his thanks before continuing. “Found the hallway Rose described easily enough. The office door was locked tight, but the lock wasn’t anything special. Took me maybe two minutes to get it open.”
The casual way Thomas described breaking into Vincent’s office made James’s stomach clench—as though he were discussing the antics of one of the horses in training rather than risking his neck in enemy territory.
“What about Vincent? Did you see him?”
Thomas shook his head, taking a long sip of the hot coffee. “Heard him though. He was in the main saloon most of the evening, holding court at one of the poker tables. Loud voice—you can hear him from halfway across the room.”
Rose looked up from the contract, her face pale. “What else did you see? Was anyone there who might have recognized you?”
Thomas shook his head, settling into a chair by the fire. “Just the usual crowd. Miners, a few gamblers, some working girls. Murphy was behind the bar most of the night, but he never looked twice at me.” He paused, studying Rose’s expression. “Vincent seemed to be having a good evening—winning at cards, buying drinks for half the saloon. He had no idea anything was happening.”
The relief in Rose’s eyes made the tension in his chest ease, but only until she turned immediately to Robert, holding the contract toward him.
“What do you think?” Rose’s voice was quiet, but there was a catch in it, a note of urgency she couldn’t quite hold back. “Can you tell if—it’s as bad as I remember?”
Robert took the paper from her, carefully, as if it might crumble in his hands. His brow furrowed while he read, and James, despite himself, edged closer, drawn in by the need to see for himself what had kept Rose bound to that man for so long.
The silence grew thick, broken only by the faint crackle of the fire where Thomas stood, warming himself, glancing over now and then. Rose watched Robert, her attention fixed and fierce, as if waiting for a verdict she’d been dreading for years.
At last, Robert let out a breath and lowered the paper, his gaze moving around their group. “It’s much as Rose said. A good solicitor could likely prove it invalid, on account of her age and the state she was in.” He looked at Rose then, sympathy plain in his face. “I’m sorry that cad forced this on you.”
“Is there anything we can do now?” Everything in James needed to take action.
“I’d like to review it more carefully. Study the exact wording and compare it to other published cases.” Robert frowned at the paper. “I’ll have my notes ready when we hear back from Father’s contacts.”
James’s chest clenched. It sounded like Robert needed time to focus on the work.
And there were still cattle in the north pasture needing water.
The weight of responsibility pressed down on his shoulders like the snow accumulating on the roof above them. He was supposed to be learning to run this ranch—Enoch would be leaving for England with Mandie next year, and the day-to-day operations would fall to him.
