Caleb reached across the table and covered her restless hand with his own much bigger one. “We weren’t there, Josefa, and we’ll never know. The people who were there won’t tell us, even if we find out who they are. But if I was a betting man, I’d lay the farm against a milk churn that Rory was killed because he resisted doing what they wanted. They forced that signature out of him, or they forged it. But he didn’t give it willingly, and he paid for that with his life.”
Fat tears began to roll soundlessly down her cheeks. She pulled her hand away to dash away the deluge. “That sounds like Rory,” she gasped. “He never wanted trouble. He always said the years his family was with Fergus and Valentina were the happiest years of his life. He never stopped missing us.”
He considered how to phra
