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Carefully setting aside the box, he picked up the shovel and filled in the hole. With the location marked on the app, just in case someone challenged his claim, he secured the box behind his saddle and rode for the bunkhouse.

“Mia!” he called as he pulled Duke to a stop. He tempered his excitement and lowered his voice, worried about waking Silas from a nap. It was such a “honey, I’m home” kind of moment, but he didn’t care. Didn’t even feel awkward about it.

“Mia, you were right,” he said softly as he opened the door. He stopped and stared around the space. She wasn’t here. The baby wasn’t here. The blanket where he napped was near the bed. Her computer was on the table, closed.

His blood ran cold. Had Regina found her? He tore around to the back. The truck was gone. That didn’t necessarily mean she’d left on her own. Maybe she’d gone for a drive so Silas would sleep. She might even be scoping out another likely search site.

That worried him. He saw a missed call from her number, but no voice mail. Sometimes those alerts were slow out here. He sent her a text that he’d found the box. With luck, that would bring her back sooner rather than later.

Unable to stand it any longer, he broke the lock and opened the box. There were letters and some old, grainy photographs and a Bible. The writing had faded with time, but most of it was still legible. His hands trembled when he realized he held the original deed for a chunk of Triple R land.

He read a letter from Herman and could almost smell the liquor on his ancestor’s breath. It rambled on and on, not bothering to be tactful at all or hide his contempt for Eugene’s poor character. Herman alleged that not only had Eugene reneged on the plan to reclaim property lost in the card game, he had also forged Herman’s signature on a second sale of land to T. Ainsley. It was a slice of his family history, possibly true, but not likely to hold up in court against the documentation Mia had found on file.

The surge of relief startled him.

Jarvis carefully opened the old Bible, mindful of the cracked leather cover. He squinted at the births and deaths listed on the fragile front pages. Tucked inside was a piece of paper. Unfolding it, he smiled at a Colton family tree.

Herman and Eugene weren’t brothers at all. The men had been cousins, he noted, tracking the names and marriages, the children that followed. The revelations in the collection of letters, the names and important dates of people he’d never known left ripples across his soul, changing his mind about the kind of family he came from.

He tucked everything back into the box. He wasn’t comfortable leaving it out here unattended. Where were Mia and Silas? She hadn’t replied to his text and he was getting restless. Had the baby gotten sick?

He tried to call her and got a service error. Better to stow the box in his room until he figured out what had happened to Mia. He and Duke weren’t far from the main stable when his phone chirped from his shirt pocket. A voice-mail alert showed up from Mia’s number. He scrambled to listen to the message.

“Hi. Dad thinks Regina poisoned him. Had to go. I’ll call when I know more.”

Jarvis swore, urging Duke into a gallop, his heart thunder

ing with the worst-case scenarios. Regina was behind this. Had to be. Every minute gave that witch an advantage, but he couldn’t ride hard and talk on the phone at the same time.

Reaching the stable, he handed off Duke to Jimmy with his apologies. Box under his arm, he called Spencer as he ran for the old ranch truck. “I think Mia’s in trouble,” he said without preamble. “Can you meet me at Norton Graves’s place?”

“What kind of trouble?” his brother queried.

“You’ve been through the file I sent? You saw the threats her stepmom made?”

“Yes. In fact, I called Regina this morning and asked her to come in and talk.”

Jarvis swore. That was the catalyst. “Supposedly, Mia’s dad asked her to come over with the baby. I don’t have evidence yet of a crime in progress, but it smells like a setup.” Would that be enough for Spencer?

“On my way.”

“Thanks.”

At his truck, Jarvis placed Herman’s box under the dash on the passenger side and tossed a towel over it. Then he drove as fast as the old engine would go to Norton’s house, using his speakerphone option to call Mia. She didn’t pick up, so he called again. And again. As dread pooled in his gut, he kept trying her phone, praying the next time she’d answer.

Every minute felt like an hour. Though he tried to put his churning emotions into context, he knew he wouldn’t calm down until he saw Mia and Silas healthy and whole.

* * *

“See. I told you he was fine,” Regina said.

Mia watched her father’s chest rise and fall. “What did you give him?”

“Nothing fatal.” Regina’s smile could curdle milk. “This time.”

“How do you expect to get away with this?” Mia demanded. If she could keep her talking she could find an opening. Where was Jarvis?

“You’ve been gone, out of sight, no contact for weeks. Your poor father has nearly worried himself to death.” She cackled. “He’ll be so disappointed to hear you relocated and refused to visit. Don’t worry, I’ll be here to soothe him through your heartless betrayal.”

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