Kane’s jaw worked, his face paling a shade. “You don’t know that.”
“I do,” Rachel said. “And Blaze knows the truth now too. About the mine. About what you and Wilder did to our father.”
Kane’s voice cracked. “You watch your mouth, girl.”
“No,” she said, standing taller. “I’m done watching anything. I’m done pretending.”
Kane took a step toward her, but the pastor moved between them with his hand raised.
“You’ll not take another step,” he said. “Not unless you want half the town as witnesses.”
“I don’t take orders from you,” Kane said. “Or from anyone else.”
“You’ll take them from the law,” Deputy Miles said. His hand rested on his pistol. It was not drawn yet, but near enough to send a message.
Kane laughed, but it came out hollow.
“The law?” he replied. “You think one green deputy can stop me? I’ve built this town from nothing! You all owe me.”
“No one owes you,” Rachel said. “You worked with Wilder. You’re a monster.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Kane said again, quieter now. “You weren’t there. None of you understand.”
The pastor shook his head. “Then tell us.”
Kane’s lips tightened. For a moment, he looked like he might actually confess. His eyes flicked toward the saloon windows and the people watching. The whispers were spreading like wildfire. It was clear that he could feel his reputation unraveling thread by thread.
He broke into a strained smile. “All this talk...that’s all it is. Talk. You think some miner’s girl knows the truth about men like me?”
“She doesn’t have to prove it,” the deputy said. “You already are.”
Kane turned and scanned the crowd, looking for sympathy. He found none. Just the blacksmith with his arms folded, the storekeeper frowning, and the pastor standing his ground.
Even Mrs. Albright held her broom like she might swat the devil himself if he came too close.
“Admit that you worked with Wilder,” Rachel said. “Admit you’re one of the outlaws.”
He turned on her, eyes blazing. “You little—”
“That’s enough!” the pastor shouted.
Kane froze mid-step. The sound of it cracked through the air like a whip.
The deputy took another step closer. “Don’t make this worse, Kane. You’ve done enough already.”
For a long moment, no one breathed. Then Kane laughed again. “You all think you’ve won something here. You think a mob and a few words make you righteous?”
“We think truth makes us free,” the pastor said.
Kane’s expression flickered. For just a second, Rachel thought she saw something break behind his eyes. Then he smoothed it over again, the mask sliding back into place.
“You’ll regret crossing me,” he said, low and cold.
“Maybe,” Rachel said, “but at least I won’t have to hide anymore.”
A gust of wind swept through the street, stirring dust and dead leaves. It carried the faint echo of thunder far off in the hills. Or maybe it was something else—something coming closer.
The crowd stayed still, watching as Kane turned and stalked away. The deputy followed at a distance, hand still near his gun. He only stopped when Kane made his way into the saloon.
