Chapter 3
Martha found more flowers—a sweet if sickly bouquet—to put over Chris’s grave. The marker was a simple cross with his name carved into the wood. Paul said a simple prayer over the body, trying to pull words from his past, but it had been too long since he’d seen the inside of a church.
“I didn’t want to come out here,” Paul said. “I mean, Chris thought it’d be easy money, but I thought we should try our hands at the ranches, be cowboys. But no, he wanted to be a miner.”
Martha wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his chest. “It’s an attractive dream.”
Paul laughed bitterly. “Of course it is. The hills are bursting with gold, right? That’s what I don’t understand.”
“What?”
“Reid was a wealthy man. You’ve had a chance to explore the house. You know what he
