“Go on,” Cole said, his arms crossed.
Hazel wet her lips. He was listening. And that’s all she needed. “The railroad bought up all this land, what hadn’t already been claimed under the Homestead Act.” She was parroting Wade’s words, when he’d told her how he’d come to buy his property. “But Wade couldn’t afford to buy it outright from them, and so he’s been paying them bit by bit. They still hold the title. He doesn’t own this property, not yet. And so signing that paper won’t do you any good, unless you want to take on his debt and pay the railroad.”
She forced herself not to swallow in fear it would make her look as if she were lying. Cole watched her a moment longer before turning to Wade.
“Is that the truth of it?” he asked.
Wade nodded slowly, not giving away anything.
Cole glanced back at Hazel. She met his gaze, refusing to look away. “I don’t understand why you didn’t say anything up front, brother.” He was speaking to Wade, but he didn’t look away from Hazel. “It makes me disinclined to believe this tale.”
“I have proof,” Hazel blurted out.
Wade’s eyes widened ever so slightly.
Her mind spun as every man in the room stared at her. “Upstairs,” she said finally. “In the rear bedroom.” The room which also still held the small pistol Wade had given her, provided he hadn’t moved it elsewhere, and provided Cole hadn’t sent his men to search the house for weapons.
She was taking a terrible chance—one that would not end well if it didn’t go exactly right. But it was the only choice she had.
Because she refused to let Wade give up his land. And she refused to let him die for it.
Cole narrowed his eyes as he studied her. “That’s an odd place to keep an important document.”
Hazel’s fingers lost feeling as she gripped them tighter together. “That’s because I stole it.”
Cole raised his eyebrows and the corner of his mouth rose into a half smile. “Why, my dear sister, would you do that?”
Hazel lifted her chin, trying to summon up what she’d felt when she first arrived here. “My husband kept to himself too much, and I was curious. I went through his desk and took multiple papers to read at my leisure upstairs.”
Cole glanced at Wade, who—to his credit—did his best to look stunned at Hazel’s “admission.”
“Sounds just like him.” Cole pressed himself away from the table and stood up straight. “Duke, you and Vance take my brother upstairs and get this paper. Mrs. Pierce and I will wait here in the kitchen.” He dropped a hand to Hazel’s shoulder, a silent threat to Wade not to try anything he might regret.
“The papers are in the little drawer in the bedside table,” Hazel said, praying the men would let Wade open the drawer—and find the pistol she’d left—rather than opening it themselves.
Wade stood slowly, his eyes on Hazel. She could almost hear his mind questioning her intentions with this excursion upstairs. Duke fetched an unlit lamp from the counter. As soon as the flame caught, he motioned to Wade to lead the way.
As the stairs creaked under their footsteps, Cole crossed his arms and studied Hazel.
“Satisfy my curiosity,” he said. “How did a dull man like my brother find himself a woman like you?”
The boards creaked in the ceiling overhead. They were in the bedroom. It wouldn’t be long now. Hazel pushed down the sick feeling that had crept upward from her stomach and tried to focus on Cole’s question.
“That is none of—”
The back door flew open before she could finish.
It hit the wall with such force that Hazel yelped and jumped from her seat. Cole didn’t waste a second. He drew his pistol and wrapped an arm around Hazel’s midsection, dragging her backward through the kitchen as the shadowy outlines of two—no, three—men filled the doorway and spilled into the room.
“Don’t come any closer!” he yelled, pressing the muzzle of the revolver to Hazel’s cheek.
Her stomach rolled as the cold metal touched her skin, and she froze in his grip, not daring to move even an inch.
The men paused just inside the doorway. As the lamplight caught their features, Hazel recognized the glint of a silver badge on the vest of the man in the middle. He must be Deputy Wright, finally arrived. The man on his right, she didn’t recognize, but the fellow to the left was none other than Mr. Trenton, Maggie’s husband.
The one Wade had been convinced was behind all the problems the ranch had experienced.
Not a single one of them lowered their guns, but they didn’t come any closer either.
