She Was Thrown Away By Her Bloodline — A Mountain Cowboy Gave Her A Home

Chapter 10

Meridian Street ran through the center of the commercial district, and Hoskins’s office occupied the second floor of a building near the north end. A narrow staircase. A frosted glass door with the name lettered in black. She had been here once before, at fifteen, sitting beside her father while Hoskins reviewed a land survey. She remembered a precise, careful man with ink-stained fingers and the habit of reading every document twice before commenting on any of it.

She went up the stairs with Caleb behind her and knocked.

The voice that answered was older than she remembered, but the precision was still in it.

“Come.”

She opened the door.

Obadiah Hoskins looked up from his desk. He was in his late sixties now, his hair gone fully white, his face more lined. But his eyes found her face and went sharp with recognition immediately. And then something else moved through them. Something that looked like alarm.

“Miss Harper,” he said.

“Mr. Hoskins.” She closed the door behind her. “I need you to tell me that the original deed instrument still exists. The one my father had you draw up for the northern land holdings. I need you to tell me right now.”

Hoskins stood. His eyes went to Caleb, then back to her. “Who is this man?”

“Someone who helped me reach your office. Answer my question, Mr. Hoskins.”

The attorney was quiet for three seconds. She counted. And the expression on his face in those three seconds was the most frightening thing she had seen since she stood outside the study door and heard Richard Vance describe a wagon accident. Because it was the expression of a man who was deciding what to tell her.

“Mr. Hoskins,” she said, and her voice came out very even. The way her father had taught her to speak when she was about to hear something she didn’t want to hear. “Tell me the truth. Please.”

Hoskins sat down slowly. He looked at her for a long moment, and then he opened the drawer of his desk and pulled out a file.

“The document exists. And I have been waiting for you to come and ask for it.”

Evelyn stood very still, her hand gripping the back of the chair in front of her.

“You’ve been waiting for me?”

Hoskins nodded. “Three days ago, a man came to my office. He identified himself as Mr. Richard Vance. He presented me with a document purporting to be a new will from your father, transferring all assets to your stepmother and to Mr. Vance himself, with a provision for your care.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him I would need to review the document thoroughly before I could comment on its validity. He was not pleased.” Hoskins paused. “He made it clear that I would be well compensated for expediting the process.”

“And you?”

“I told him I would need time.” The attorney’s face was grim. “I have been practicing law in this territory for thirty-seven years, Miss Harper. I know what a forged document looks like. The signature was close, but it was not your father’s. The pressure points were wrong. The pen angle was different. I have witnessed Gerald Harper’s signature hundreds of times. I know his hand.”

Evelyn’s knees went weak. She lowered herself into the chair.

“Can you prove it’s forged?”

“I can swear to it in court. And I have the original deed, still in my possession, still valid.” He opened the file and slid a document across the desk. “Your father came to me three years ago and asked me to draw this up. He told me he wanted to make sure you were protected, no matter what happened.”

Evelyn picked up the document. Her hands were shaking. The northern land holdings. The deed that would be the foundation of her legal claim. It was here. It was real.

“I need to file an injunction. I need to freeze the estate before Richard can complete the transfer.”

Hoskins nodded. “I can have the papers drawn up within the hour. But Miss Harper, I need to ask you something. Your father’s illness. Do you believe it was natural?”

Evelyn felt the question land in her chest like a stone dropped into deep water. She had been circling it for days, afraid to let it settle.

“I don’t know,” she said. “But I have my suspicions.”

“Then we need to move quickly. If there’s been foul play, the evidence will be gone soon.”

Hoskins stood. “I’ll draw up the injunction. You’ll need to stay out of sight until it’s filed. There’s a boarding house. Clara Briggs’s. She’ll keep her mouth shut.”

Hoskins looked at Caleb for a long moment. “Are you family?”

“No.”

“Employed by the Harpers?”

“No.”

“Then why are you standing in my office with a pistol on your hip and a look on your face that says you’ve already decided what you’re going to do if anyone tries to stop this woman?”

Caleb met the attorney’s gaze. “Because she needed help, and I was there. That’s the beginning and the end of it.”

Evelyn picked up the pen. She signed her name at the bottom of the document, and she felt something shift in her chest. Not relief. Not yet. But something that felt like the first step of a very long walk back to herself.