Son, I don’t know what’s buried beneath that tree. But this secret, and whatever is there, that’s your legacy now. Do with this secret what you will.
Your pa,
Jonas Abraham Powell
September 10, 1895
“Oh, God! Do you think there’s a body buried beneath that tree? That it’s been there all these years?”
“Easy, sweetheart.” Randy brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. Then he rubbed his thumb over the spot. Lewis handed the letter back to Clint and placed one hand on her shoulder. Michaela didn’t understand it, but just that much, their touch—his and Lewis’s—always had the power to calm her.
“We’ll find out,” Clint said. “I’m sorry, Michaela. That means…”
He did look regretful. And then she understood what that meant. “You have to dig up my Legacy Tree?”
“Well, we have to dig,” Clint said. “We need to see if there are human remains, and if so, then, next of kin will need to be notified. But I can’t imagine Devlin Gowan would be wanting this land just because his great-grandfather buried a body here. Can you?”
Michaela shook her head. “I don’t know what to think. Except for one thing. I think Terry should be here with us when you do that. He’s as much a victim in all of this as I am.”
“We’ll need a day or so to get in touch with the experts we’ll need, anyway,” Clint said. “And to see if we can locate where exactly to dig.”
“We can likely get the equipment you need for that,” Adam said. He took the letters and set them back into the box. “We’re just going to keep this as evidence for now.”
“For now?” Michaela tilted her head to one side. “What does that mean?”
“It’s only evidence if there’s a body buried there or proof of a crime having been committed,” Clint said. “From the letter Jonas Powell left, the only crime documented was one of trespassing.”
She took a moment to review in her mind the contents of the letter. “Huh. You’re right.”
Clint grinned. “We’ll let you know when we’re ready to move forward with this.”
* * * *
Of course, they accepted Jenny’s invitation to come to supper. Lewis just hadn’t realized that the house would be crowded with all the family—Benedict, Kendall, and Jessop—that showed up. Now they’d all plowed through an enormous amount of ribs and wings and burgers, salads, and beans. They’d used paper plates, so there wasn’t much more than the cutlery to clean up afterwards. Chairs had been brought into the great room from the dining room, making the room seem cozy.
“I figured this would be better than the roadhouse because that’s work for us—and as much as we enjoy it, a break’s good.” Jenny handed Michaela a tall glass of sangria.
“Thank you, little sister.” Lewis had come to love his sister-in-law. In fact, he could honestly say there wasn’t a member of the family here in Texas that rubbed him the wrong way.
Funny, but seeing cousins without the biases of any of our parents is like seeing people we never really knew.
He hadn’t realized how entwined life and ambition had been in Montana. That won’t happen here.
Someday, he and Randy would sit around a campfire and talk to their fellow transplanted Montanans. When that happened, he’d share his new insights and see to it he wasn’t the only one to make that vow.
“You said you were going to do some research, Jake. Were you able to dig anything up about Devlin Gowan and Ezra Powell?” Michaela’s question brought a bit of a hush to the large, chatty group. She was nestled between him and Randy, which was exactly where he liked her. The shadows had disappeared from her eyes, and though he knew she was tired, she was no longer stressed.
“Go ahead, little brother,” Adam said. “You start, and I’ll finish.”
Jake took a moment to take another sip of his beer. Beside him, Ginny rubbed her hand on his thigh, the unconscious gesture a wife gives her husband. He covered her hand and shot her a quick grin. That, right there, is love. Lewis made a mental note to remember to be that attentive to Michaela, always.
“Ezra and Devlin were a pair. They had another pal who was a part of their gang, as it were, a man by the name of Robert O’Grady. The three of them made the circuit, I can tell you that. They wended a trail from St. Louis to Durant, which was then in the Oklahoma Territory, and finally into Texas. They committed a few robberies in St. Louis, the largest being a bank heist. That was the one that rated wanted posters.
“They didn’t have much time to get their hands dirty here, because, not long after they settled into Waco, those posters came to the attention of one Adam Kendall, who at the time was the captain in charge of the Waco division of the Texas Rangers.”
“That’s an interesting twist, isn’t it?” Michaela said. “It kind of ties us all together, don’t you think?”
“I do, indeed,” Jake said. “Unfortunately, when Captain Kendall and his men made to arrest the three amigos, O’Grady panicked and pulled his weapon. He was killed, and Ezra and Devlin were apprehended. They were escorted to St. Louis to stand trial and never saw the light of day again.”
“On a hunch,” Adam said, “I looked into what crimes had been reported to have taken place along the most-likely trail from St. Louis to Waco. We know from Jonas’s letter that his brother hadn’t moved to the area to be with family.”
“From the look on your face, cousin, I’d say you found something.” Jackson put his arm around his wife, Ari, having just traded off holding their
