She Was Forced to Marry a Poor Rancher — Not Knowing He Owned Half the Valley

Chapter 3

Margaret slept badly.

She woke before dawn.

The house was quiet.

She walked downstairs.

Thomas was already outside.

He stood beside the stable.

A dozen horses were being saddled.

Men moved around the yard.

Margaret watched.

One of them approached Thomas.

“Mr. Reed, the northern herd is ready.”

Thomas nodded.

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“Send twenty head toward Bellmere.”

“Yes, sir.”

Another man arrived.

“The western tenants have paid their winter grain.”

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Thomas nodded.

“Store half. Give the rest to the families.”

Margaret froze.

Tenants?

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She stepped outside.

Thomas noticed her.

“You’re awake.”

“What did he mean by tenants?”

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Thomas glanced at the men.

“People who work land.”

“Your land?”

“Some of it.”

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Margaret looked toward the valley.

She had always heard about the Reed ranch.

But everyone said it was small.

Thomas owned perhaps fifty cattle.

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Maybe a few horses.

Yet there were dozens of men working here.

She turned toward him.

“How many cattle do you own?”

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Thomas hesitated.

“Several hundred.”

Margaret stared.

“Several hundred?”

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“More or less.”

“More?”

“More.”

She almost laughed.

“You are not poor.”

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Thomas said nothing.

She stepped closer.

“Are you?”

“No.”

“Why does everyone think you are?”

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“Because I don’t correct them.”

“Why?”

He looked toward the mountains.

“Because I have enemies.”

Margaret remembered her uncle.

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“What kind?”

“The kind who believe land belongs to whoever can frighten people into signing papers.”

Her heart tightened.

“Gideon?”

Thomas looked at her.

“Yes.”

Margaret stared.

“What does my uncle have to do with you?”

Thomas did not answer.

Instead, he said:

“Come with me.”

He led her to the stable.

Behind the horses stood a locked room.

Thomas opened it.

Inside were maps.

Dozens of them.

Land surveys.

Deeds.

Tax records.

Property boundaries.

Margaret stepped closer.

She recognized the valley.

She recognized farms.

Her uncle’s estate.

The western river.

The northern grazing lands.

Thomas pointed to the map.

“Everything marked in blue belongs to me.”

Margaret looked.

Blue covered nearly half the valley.

Her mouth went dry.

“You own this?”

“Yes.”

“All of it?”

“Almost.”

She looked at him.

“The entire valley thinks you’re poor.”

Thomas smiled faintly.

“That is useful.”

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