Page 14 of In Honor’s Defense

“Do you suspect him because he wants your land?”

Nathaniel slanted a glance at her from the corner of his eye and gave a slow nod.

She’d thought so.

Damaris had met with Ronald Mullins when she first came to town. The lawyer in charge of Douglas’s estate had been very kind and had patiently answered all her questions about the trust her brother had set up for his son. As executer, she had the right to sell the land and put the money aside for her nephew. Mr. Mullins even informed her of a standing offer for the property. A generous offer. He’d not mentioned any names, but it made sense that a neighboring rancher looking to expand would be interested in the property. She’d considered accepting. The selling price would secure Nathaniel’s future. Pay for his education. Allow him to establish himself in whatever occupation he chose. The land hadn’t been farmed or developed in any way except for the house, so it seemed unlikely that her nephew would need the acreage for making his living. Selling seemed a good solution.

Until she mentioned the possibility to Nathaniel.

Children never wanted to be uprooted from their homes, so she’d expected some resistance. Not a full-scale rebellion. She’d told him about the life they could have in Missouri. About the education he’d receive. The advantages he’d enjoy. Gaslights. Baseball. Career opportunities.

The look in his eyes as she spoke, however, sliced her heart to ribbons. Utter betrayal.

He’d been civil to her when she first arrived. Not warm or particularly welcoming, but sufficiently polite. Everything changed after that conversation. Battle lines were drawn, and she’d become the enemy. He’d yelled at her. Called her a traitor. Accused her of selfishness—sacrificing his home just so she could return to hers. She knew nothing about his father, about their life here. Douglas had loved the land and refused to sell it no matter how many times Mr. Grimes offered or what kind of price tag he attached. This was Baxter land. No one else’s. If she wanted to go back to Missouri, go ahead. He was staying.

Then he’d run out the door to the lone tree at the base of the hill behind the house. The tree that sheltered his parents’ graves.

She’d followed him. Promised not to sell the land. But the damage had been done. Trust had been broken.

Maybe today she could begin rebuilding.

“When I first heard the news about how Douglas died, I found it hard to believe. He was always such a strong swimmer. In fact, he taught me how to swim when I was just a girl. Did he teach you?”

Nathaniel’s vigorous chewing slowed as he nodded, his eyes turning a bit glassy as if he were getting lost in a memory. Hopefully a good one.

Damaris got lost in a few of her own. “I rather idolized him, you know. He was smart. Funny. Good at sports. Nothing scared him. He was so outgoing and easy with people.” Even awkward, painfully shy little sisters. She smiled as she recalled him coaxing her out of her hiding place behind the curtains covering the window ledge in her room.

Mother had always sent Douglas to fetch her when company came over, instructing him to toss her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes if necessary. He’d never had to resort to such tactics, though. He charmed her out of hiding every time with his silly commentary on whichever relative or friend had come to call and his promise to hold her hand all the way down the stairs.

“Everyone loved him,” she said. “I missed him terribly when he moved to Texas.”

Nathaniel stopped chewing altogether. A sheen encompassed his eyes. “People liked him here, too,” he said softly, a slight catch in his voice. “He knew everybody who came into the mill by name and was always the first to volunteer for any work that needed to be done around the church or school. He’d drag me along to those projects, even though I’d grumble about wanting to go fishin’ instead. He’d joke that he needed me for protection.” He quirked a half grin. “From the ladies set on catchin’ his attention. They’d bake cookies and dress up in their Sunday best before they just happened to drop by the churchyard or schoolhouse. They put plenty of bait on the hook, but Pa wasn’t biting. Not even a nibble. His heart still belonged to Ma and always would.”

Nathaniel’s smile flattened as he finally lifted his gaze to meet hers. “That’s why he refused to sell to Mr. Grimes. This land was hers. The house she helped build. The garden where she grew her vegetables. The creek where she slipped and got a drenching, then dragged Pa in after her when he laughed.”

The playful memory softened his expression for a moment, but then his jaw tightened. “Grimes wouldn’t let it go. He kept after Pa to sell. Especially the last few months. Pa must’ve reached his limit, ’cause when Grimes came to the house with another offer, he flew off the handle. I ain’t never heard him yell like that. He told Grimes there was no amount of money that would make him sell. Not to him. Not to anyone. Told him to get off our land. Threatened to shoot him for trespassing if he ever set foot on our property again. Grimes called him a stubborn fool. Said Pa would regret rejecting his offer.” Nathaniel’s nostrils flared as his eyes narrowed. “They found Pa’s body floating in the lake four days later.”

Four days?

“Did you tell the sheriff about the argument?” Surely there’d been an investigation of some kind. Men didn’t just show up floating in lakes for no reason.

Oh, Douglas. What happened to you?

“I tried, but I’m just a kid. Some of Grimes’s cowhands vouched for him, said he was riding herd with them all day. The sheriff believed them. Declared it an accident and turned my pa’s body over to the undertaker. But there’s no way he drowned, Aunt Maris.” His eyes pled with her to believe him. “He had no reason to even be at the lake. Someone had to have lured him away from the mill and . . . and . . .”

Damaris covered his forearm with her hand and squeezed softly as she blinked away her own grief. He didn’t need to say the words. She knew. And it tore her heart to pieces.

It’s not fair, God. First his mother and now his father? No child should have to suffer such loss. To be left alone in the world.

He’s not alone.

The truth settled in her bones with a depth of certainty she could not deny. No, Nathaniel wasn’t alone. The Lord was with him, a Father to the fatherless, a binder of the brokenhearted. But could Nathaniel sense his nearness? Feel his love, his compassion? Or was he too angry and bitter to let the Lord’s comfort soothe the rawness of his grief?

Was that why she was here? Not just to tend to Nathaniel’s physical needs but to his spiritual needs as well. To remind him that he wasn’t alone.

And perhaps remind herself as well.

“The next time we go to town, I’ll ask some questions,” Damaris said. “Visit the sheriff, the undertaker, and the mill. See if I can unearth a witness that might be able to explain why Douglas went to the lake that day.”