Abigail folded the telegram.
“I am not spending the rest of my life running from him.”
Simon considered.
Then nodded.
“We go.”
She looked at him.
“You don't have to.”
“I know.”
That answer became important too.
They reached Helena five days later.
The Prescott estate looked unchanged from the road.
Lanterns gone.
Wedding roses dead.
But otherwise grand.
Abigail stared.
Simon sat beside her on the wagon.
“You want me with you?”
“Yes.”
“Inside?”
She thought.
“No.”
He nodded.
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“I'll wait here.”
Abigail stepped down.
Her father opened the door himself.
He aged ten years when he saw her.
“Abby.”
She entered.
Charles reached toward her.
She stepped away.
His hand fell.
“I thought you were dead.”
“So did Josiah's bounty hunter.”
Charles went pale.
“What?”
“You didn't know?”
“No.”
She believed him.
That surprised her.
“Where is Josiah?”
“Bank office.”
“Good.”
“Abigail.”
She turned.
Charles's eyes filled.
“I am sorry.”
“No.”
He stopped.
“Not yet.”
His face tightened.
“You don't get to apologize before I tell you what you did.”
He nodded.
So she told him.
Not Josiah's crimes.
His.
“You were afraid.”
“Yes.”
“You loved the mine.”
“Yes.”
“You loved this house.”
“Yes.”
“And you decided those things were worth more than my choice.”
Charles cried silently.
Abigail's own eyes burned.
“You signed because you believed marriage would be easier for me than poverty.”
“Yes.”
“You never asked.”
“No.”
She breathed.
“I might forgive you.”
Hope entered his face.
“Someday.”
It dimmed.
“That is all I have.”
She left.
Simon remained exactly where she had left him.
He did not ask.
Abigail climbed into the wagon.
“Bank.”
He nodded.
Josiah Sterling's bank occupied the largest stone building in Helena.
Abigail entered alone.
That shocked him more than her survival.
Josiah stood behind a mahogany desk.
His face changed.
“Abigail.”
She closed the door.
“You look disappointed.”
Then his smile returned.
“Relieved.”
“No.”
He crossed toward her.
“You've had your little adventure.”
Abigail remained still.
“It is over.”
“No.”
Josiah stopped.
She placed copies of the fort telegrams on his desk.
His eyes moved downward.
Then back.
“What is this?”
“The end of your leverage.”
He skimmed the first page.
His expression tightened.
“These allegations mean nothing.”
“Then you won't mind court.”
Josiah laughed.
“You think some territorial captain can challenge my holdings?”
“No.”
She smiled.
“I think federal investigators can.”
His smile disappeared.
Abigail continued.
“And I think every creditor you defrauded will enjoy reading the same records.”
Josiah walked around the desk.
“You are being foolish.”
“Perhaps.”
“Your father needs me.”
“No.”
“The mine is worthless without capital.”
“Then we sell it.”
His eyes sharpened.
“You would destroy your family name?”
“I would rather sell silver than myself.”
Josiah's face became cold.
“This mountain animal has filled your head.”
Abigail almost laughed.
“Simon has barely told me what to do since I met him.”
“Simon.”
Jealous contempt filled the name.
Josiah stepped closer.
“You think he loves you?”
Abigail said nothing.
“A man living alone that long would take any warm body.”
That old cruelty.
Familiar.
Expected.
Abigail smiled.
“That is where you and he are different.”
Josiah frowned.
“You look at a woman and see what you can own.”
She stepped closer.
“Simon looks at a woman and waits to learn what she chooses.”
His face hardened.
“You were promised to me.”
“No.”
“You signed.”
“My father signed debt papers.”
“The wedding announcement—”
“Is paper.”
She looked into his eyes.
“I never chose you.”
Josiah grabbed her wrist.
The door opened.
Simon stood there.
His presence filled the frame.
Josiah released Abigail immediately.
Simon did not enter.
He looked at her.
“You all right?”
“Yes.”
“Want me?”
Abigail considered.
That mattered.
“No.”
Simon nodded.
He closed the door again.
Josiah stared.
Abigail smiled.
“You see?”
That moment defeated him more completely than violence could have.
Investigations followed.
Slowly.
Legally.
Messily.
The survey clerk confessed after being charged.
Bank records confirmed duplicate debt transfers.
Josiah's company had diverted water without valid authorization.
The bounty hunter Wallace Trent was arrested after one of his men agreed to testify in exchange for reduced charges.
Josiah was charged with conspiracy, fraud, unlawful coercion related to the debt scheme, and additional financial offenses.
He was not dragged away dramatically from Abigail's feet.
Reality was slower.
Hearings.
Lawyers.
Appeals.
Frozen accounts.
Partners abandoning him.
By spring, his empire had begun collapsing under records and testimony.
The Prescott mine survived.
Barely.
Abigail did not want it.
Charles did.
They negotiated.
For the first time in her life, father and daughter negotiated instead of father deciding.
Abigail transferred her eventual interest into a trust that prevented the mine from ever being used as collateral for another family arrangement.
Charles accepted.
Their relationship remained wounded.
But no longer false.
Then came the question Abigail had been avoiding.
Simon.
He waited through the legal proceedings without asking for an answer to his cabin proposal.
That irritated her eventually.
They were staying at a modest Helena boardinghouse.
One evening she found him on the rear porch repairing tack.
“You haven't asked.”
Simon looked up.
“What?”
“You know.”
He returned to the leather strap.
“No.”
Abigail crossed her arms.
“Why?”
“You've had enough men demanding answers.”
Her anger softened.
“I am not asking why you haven't demanded.”
Simon looked at her.
“I'm asking why you haven't asked.”
He set down the tack.
“You ready?”
“Yes.”
“Sure?”
She sighed.
“Simon Boone.”
“Abigail Prescott.”
She stepped closer.
“In your cabin, you told me to share your bed forever.”
“I remember.”
“That was a terrible proposal.”
“Yes.”
“You were kneeling beside a bed during a siege.”
“Bad timing.”
“Very.”
He waited.