Chapter 6 - The Man in the Barn
The cellar was flooded, but a light flickered through the wide slats of the adjacent hay barn. Nathan pointed with a single finger, and Miller clicked off his flashlight, moving in absolute silence through the damp weeds.
The barn door was ajar, swinging an inch back and forth in the wind. Inside, lanterns cast long, dancing shadows across the dusty floorboards. Sitting on an overturned feed bin, peeling an apple with a stag-handled knife, was a man Nathan had not seen in seven years: Thomas Vance, his father’s younger brother.
Thomas was wiry, sharp-featured, with graying stubble and a heavy leather coat that smelled of sawdust and tobacco. On the wooden crate beside him sat a thick ledger and a stack of faded green land deeds.
""You took your time getting home, nephew,"" Thomas said without looking up from the apple. The slice snapped beneath his blade.
Nathan pushed through the threshold, Miller flanking him with shoulders squared. ""What are you doing on my land, Thomas?""
Thomas chewed slowly, pointing the tip of his knife at the papers. ""It hasn't been your land since the foreclosure auction was scheduled, boy. The county sold the paper debt to an investment syndicate yesterday morning. I'm the local manager for the syndicate.""
""You bought my father's debt?"" Nathan felt his teeth click together. ""While I was lying in a military hospital?""
""Someone was going to buy it,"" Thomas said, standing up and wiping the blade against his trousers. ""The county wanted its back taxes. The regional hospital in Denver wanted sixty grand for your mom's cancer hospice before she died, which you conveniently forgot while playing hero in the sand. I stepped in. I kept it in the Vance name, didn't I?""
""You're stripping the acreage for timber,"" Nathan said, his eyes catching the surveyor's maps laid across the bench. ""You’re selling the water rights to the reservoir company.""
""I’m surviving,"" Thomas snapped, his eyes flashing in the lantern light. ""Something you seem to have forgotten how to do. Look at you. You can't even stand up on your own dirt, Nathan. And you brought a child into this wreckage?""
Nathan's voice dropped to a razor-thin whisper. ""Where is the trust account my father left for Leo?""
Thomas stopped. His knife stayed still in his hand. A slow, ugly smile crept across his mouth. ""You think your old man left a trust? He died penniless, Nathan. But Hale didn't mention that, did he? Hale works for me. And if you think you're walking into that courtroom tomorrow with any claim to this town, you're dead wrong.""
May you like
Before Nathan could speak, Miller drew his pistol half an inch from its holster. ""You set the welfare board on him at the platform.""
Thomas looked down the barrel of Miller’s intent without flinching. ""I cleared the title, soldier. A child is a liability. An invalid veteran is an expense. Take your little medals and your wheelchair, Nathan, and ride that train back to Denver. Because by noon tomorrow, Leo belongs to the state, and this farm belongs to a sawmill.""
