This time, the corner of his mouth actually lifted.
Clara reached for his hand.
He stared at her fingers covering his.
Neither moved.
Then a rider appeared on the southern road.
It was Sheriff Nathan Bell.
He came with news that one of Silas Boon’s hired men had been arrested after trying to sell stolen cattle two counties east.
The man had talked.
Not enough to prove Silas had ordered the fire at Clara’s barn.
But enough to suggest Silas had been paying men to intimidate several small landowners near the proposed railroad route.
“We may finally have something we can use,” Nathan said.
Caleb looked toward Clara.
“For the first time, maybe.”
The following week brought an uneasy calm.
Silas did not return.
No fences were cut.
No animals became sick.
No anonymous warnings appeared.
For the first time in months, Clara began imagining a future larger than simply surviving the next day.
One evening she and Caleb sat on the porch watching the sun sink behind distant mountains.
“You ever think about leaving Wyoming?” Clara asked.
“No.”
