Gideon picked up the pencil with trembling fingers.
Ashford.
Rosalie stopped breathing.
—My father?
Gideon nodded.
Before they could write more, they heard horses
approaching.
Rosalie looked out the window.
His father was standing in front of the house.
Merrick was with him.
Gideon still couldn’t hear the hooves.
But Rosalie did.
His father got off his horse holding a shotgun.
—Rosalie— she shouted—, pick up your things.
She went out onto the porch.
—This is my house.
He smiled.
—Not for long.
He took out a document.
Fifty dollars had never simply been the price of a girlfriend.
They were the initial payment on an agreement regarding the ranch.
If Gideon died without an heir, certain lands could revert to the creditor who held an old debt of his father.
The name written on that contract was Silas Ashford .
My father.
Then I understood why he had sold me out to Gideon.
