Thomas set down his coffee cup. “I’ll go.”
All eyes turned to him.
“You sure?” Enoch’s voice carried a note of concern. “There will be a lot of pomp. A lot of frivolity and the endless need to compliment a man who likely couldn’t hit a buffalo grazing on the plain.”
Thomas shrugged, but something in his eyes suggested the decision went deeper than simple duty. “I could use some time away from the ranch anyway. See a bit more of the territory. Someone needs to represent the family, and you all have more pressing matters here.” He nodded toward James’s splinted leg and Enoch’s wife and newborn daughter.
James studied his youngest brother. A kind of restless energy that had been building in Thomas for months now. Maybe the journey would do him good. Give him space to sort through whatever was weighing on his mind.
“All right then.” Enoch nodded. “We’ll make the arrangements.”
The conversation shifted to lighter topics after that, but Thomas didn’t join in. He stared out the window, his thoughts far away. Whatever his brother was running from—or running toward—James could only pray he’d find what he needed in Fort Benton.
Later, as the afternoon light began to fade and baby Catherine woke demanding to be fed again, James hobbled into the kitchen for a few minutes alone with Enoch. His eldest brother had come to make another pot of coffee, and James now sank into a chair at the table. He needed a moment away from the celebration to rest his screaming leg and perhaps steal a few quiet words with his brother.
Times like this, he missed Will so deep, it felt like the pain would never fade. How many times had he and Enoch and Will stood here in this very room? Enoch sharp-tongued as ever, Will grinning, both of them doubling up to tease him over some fool thing he’d said or done.
He’d pretended to resent their jabs back then, but now he’d give anything to hear Will’s laugh again. He’d always looked up to his brothers, always would. And this ache felt like it might never fade.
Enoch lifted the lid on the pot to check the brewing coffee inside. “I think it’s ready.”
“Smells good. Mrs. Wang outdid herself with everything today.”
Enoch nodded, pouring two fresh cups of the brew. “She’s been planning this feast all week.” He handed one to James, then settled in the chair nearest him, his expression thoughtful. “I’m happy for you, brother. Rose is good for you. Always has been.”
“Thank you.” The words burrowed deep, warming far more than the coffee ever could.
Enoch took a sip, then set his cup down carefully. “The sheriff brought our mail when he came for the ceremony.” He pulled a folded letter from his pocket. “This came from Judge Harrison.”
James’s pulse quickened as he took the paper. Robert had traveled to Helena earlier this week for a preliminary discussion with the judge in Helena who’d been one of Father’s contacts. The man had promised to review the details and advise them how he’d like to proceed.
James scanned the script, but then forced himself to slow and read every word:
Lord Balfour,
I have reviewed the contract and supporting documents you brought to me. From what I can determine, this agreement is unconscionable and unenforceable under territorial law. A contract signed by a minor under duress, particularly one demanding twenty years of servitude, violates fundamental principles of justice.
With regards to Mr. Dunhill’s recent activities, the evidence for kidnapping is irrefutable, and the charges of extortion and fraud related to Miss Prescott’s contract should also stand. The matter of Lady Balfour’s death remains more difficult to prove, given the passage of time and lack of physical evidence, but even without that charge, Mr. Dunhill will spend many years in prison.
I look forward to seeing justice served in this matter.
Respectfully,
Judge Marcus Harrison
Relief flooded through James so powerfully his hands trembled. He looked up at his brother, who was watching him carefully.
“Rose doesn’t know yet.” Enoch spoke quietly. “We thought you should be the one to tell her.”
James nodded, refolding the letter and tucking it into his pocket. “Thanks.” He’d find the right time. Then they would savor the knowledge that Vincent’s hold on Rose was truly, legally broken.
He eyed his brother. “Are you looking forward to going to England next summer? After Mandie and Catherine are stronger?” None of them had ever been back, not since they first came here. Enoch had been six at the time. James four, almost five. No matter how hard he’d tried through the years, he couldn’t remember anything from what most people called their homeland.
These mountains felt like home. All his memories lived here. His future too, Lord willing.
Something flicked across Enoch’s face—not quite reluctance, but close. He stared into his mug, then sighed. “I’m resigned to it. It’s my responsibility, as the eldest now.” He looked up, meeting James’s gaze. “But it’s still going to be hard to leave these mountains. This is home in a way England never will be.”
James understood that feeling in his bones. These mountains, this ranch—they’d shaped all of them into who they were. Leaving, even temporarily, would be like cutting away a piece of themselves.
