Caleb looked at her.
“Where is Clara?”
Mae lowered her voice.
“That's what everyone wants you to stop asking.”
Caleb stared at her.
“And Elias?”
“Dead.”
“How?”
Mae looked toward the sheriff's office.
“Officially?”
“Yes.”
“Officially, he was a cattle thief.”
“And unofficially?”
Mae's eyes filled with fear.
“Go back where you came from, Mr. Rourke.”
Caleb leaned closer.
“Why?”
“Because men who ask too many questions in Mercy Creek have a habit of disappearing.”
That night, Caleb slept badly.
Just before midnight, he heard footsteps outside his room.
He reached for his gun.
Then a small voice whispered through the window.
“Mr. Caleb?”
He opened it.
Lily stood below.
Barefoot.
Shivering.
“What happened?”
She looked toward the dark street.
“They're looking for us.”
Caleb climbed down immediately.
“Who?”
Lily didn't answer.
She grabbed his sleeve.
Then she said the words that changed his life.
“Please don't let them find June.”
Caleb followed Lily into the darkness.
She moved quickly despite being only four years old.
She knew the town better than he did.
She knew which alleys were safe.
Which fences creaked.
Which dogs barked.
Which roads were watched.
They crossed a dry creek bed and climbed a narrow trail toward the hills.
June was waiting beneath a dead cottonwood.
She ran to Lily.
“You came!”
“I told you I would.”
Caleb looked between them.
“You said people were looking for you.”
June nodded.
“Mr. Vane's men.”
Caleb crouched.
“Why?”
Lily stared at the ground.
“Because Mama left something.”
“What?”
She shook her head.
“Mama said never tell.”
Caleb didn't push.
Instead, he looked toward the ruined farmhouse behind them.
“Is that where you live?”
“Yes.”
The house looked abandoned.
The roof sagged.
One window was covered with cloth.
The well had dried up.
Caleb walked inside.
His jaw tightened.
There was almost nothing.
Two blankets.
One mattress.
A broken stove.
Three cups.
No adult clothing.
No food.
No evidence that a grown woman had lived there recently.
“How long have you been here?”
Lily said nothing.
June answered.
“Since spring.”
Caleb turned slowly.
“Since spring?”
June nodded.
Caleb closed his eyes.
It was late summer.
They had been alone for months.
He looked at Lily.
“Where did your mother go?”
“Cheyenne.”
“Did you see her leave?”
“No.”
“What did you see?”
Lily hesitated.
Then she told him.
Men had come.
Her mother had hidden the girls beneath the bed.
They had demanded something from Elias.
They had accused him of stealing cattle.
Then there had been shouting.
A gunshot.
And silence.
Caleb's expression became grim.
“What happened to your father?”
Lily looked at him.
“Sheriff said he ran.”
Caleb had heard enough lies in his life to recognize another one.
Men didn't run from their families without saying goodbye.
Not good fathers.
Not Elias Bell.
Caleb had never met the man.
But he had heard his name.
Elias Bell had been known as an honest rancher.
A stubborn one.
He had refused to sell his land to Silas Vane.
That alone was enough to make him dangerous.
Caleb looked around the house.
“Does your mother have a hiding place?”
Lily froze.
“Why?”
“Because she told you something.”
The girl looked toward the kitchen.
There, beneath the old stove, was a blue-painted floorboard.
Caleb noticed it.
But he didn't touch it.
“That's the one?”
Lily nodded.
“What did she say?”
“Never lift it.”
Caleb respected that.
He didn't touch it.
Instead, he asked:
“Did she give you anything?”
Lily looked down.
Slowly, she pulled a brass key from beneath her dress.
Caleb stared.
“Where did you get that?”
“Mama.”
“When?”
“The night she disappeared.”
“What does it open?”
“I don't know.”
Caleb didn't ask for it.
He had learned that trust had to be earned.
Instead, he built a small fire outside.
He cooked beans.
He gave the girls the first serving.
June fell asleep beside the fire.
Lily stayed awake.
“You're grieving,” she said suddenly.
Caleb looked at her.
“What?”
“You talk about someone when you're alone.”
His heart stopped.
“Who told you?”