Sunday morning arrived clear.
The smokehouse survived.
So did the shipment.
By nine o'clock, the final buyer rode through the gate.
He was expected to purchase two hundred pounds.
He bought all of it.
When the coins and notes were counted, Cross Creek had three thousand seventy-one dollars.
Nobody cheered at first.
They simply stared at the money.
Buck finally whispered, "We did it."
Zayn shouted.
Hollis threw his hat into the air.
Tilly covered her mouth.
Gideon looked at the money.
Then at her.
"We did."
Buck corrected him.
"She did."
Tilly shook her head.
"No."
She looked around.
"We did."
That evening they held a celebration dinner.
Tilly prepared the best meal Cross Creek had ever seen.
Beef glazed with her dark sauce.
Cornbread.
Potatoes.
Fresh peach cobbler made from fruit Hollis had traded for in town.
Buck ate three servings.
Tilly threatened to cut him off.
"You're cruel."
"You're gonna explode."
"Worth it."
Everyone laughed.
But beneath the celebration was tension.
Caldwell would arrive Monday.
Gideon planned to pay him in full and demand the mortgage documents.
Tilly had another concern.
"He won't accept defeat easily."
"He has to."
"Men like Caldwell don't think rules apply when rules stop benefiting them."
Gideon knew she was right.
"I'll have witnesses."
"Who?"
"All of you."
"Caldwell will say ranch employees are biased."
Gideon thought.
"Then I'll send Hollis into town. Bring Sheriff Wallace and the bank clerk."
Tilly nodded.
"Better."
Monday arrived.
So did Caldwell.
This time his carriage was accompanied by four mounted men.
Gideon waited on the porch.
Tilly stood nearby.
Buck, Zayn, and Hollis positioned themselves around the yard.
Sheriff Wallace sat beneath the shade.
Beside him stood Mr. Dyer, a clerk from the bank that had originally issued the mortgage.
Caldwell descended.
He saw them.
His smile disappeared.
"Quite a gathering."
Gideon held a leather bag.
"Three thousand dollars."
Caldwell's eyes narrowed.
"Indeed?"
"Count it."
Caldwell approached.
He did not touch the bag.
"Unfortunately, the amount due is no longer three thousand."
Silence.
Gideon's face went still.
"What?"
Caldwell removed a paper.
"Accumulated penalties. Legal charges. Transfer fees. Inspection costs."
The sheriff frowned.
"How much?"
"Three thousand six hundred forty-two dollars."
Buck swore.
Tilly looked toward Dyer.
The bank clerk stepped forward.
"That isn't what the original note says."
Caldwell smiled.
"You sold the paper, Mr. Dyer. Its administration is now my concern."
"The interest rate and penalties transfer with it."
"So they do."
Dyer held out his hand.
"Let me see that."
Caldwell did not move.
Gideon stepped closer.
"You told me three thousand."
"I informed you payment in full was due."
"You named three thousand."
"Did I?"
Tilly's stomach tightened.
Caldwell had planned this.
He never expected to collect.
He wanted the ranch.
Gideon's hands curled.
Sheriff Wallace stood.
"Nobody's drawing a weapon today."
Caldwell smiled.
"I have no intention of violence."
"That's comforting," Buck muttered.
Dyer examined the paper Caldwell finally handed him.
His eyebrows drew together.
"This isn't part of the mortgage."
"It represents additional administrative expenses."
"You can't simply create expenses."
Caldwell shrugged.
"Then challenge them in court."
Gideon laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
"You know I can't afford that."
"Business is often unfortunate."
Tilly watched Caldwell.
She understood men like him.
He didn't merely want money.
He wanted Gideon to know that hard work had been meaningless.
He wanted humiliation.
Then Tilly remembered something.
"What railroad?"
Caldwell looked at her.
"Excuse me?"
"You want this land for a railroad."
His face did not change.
But she saw it.
A tiny pause.
Gideon looked at her.
Caldwell said, "I have many investments."
"The eastern boundary isn't useful for grazing. Too rocky."
"Tilly," Gideon said quietly.
She ignored him.
"But it's the straightest passage toward the Brazos crossing."
Caldwell's eyes cooled.
"You're a cook."
"Yes."
"Perhaps remain one."
Tilly smiled.
"Must make you nervous then."
Buck grinned.
Caldwell turned toward Gideon.
"Twenty-four hours. Bring me the difference or surrender possession."
He climbed into his carriage.
The men followed.
Gideon watched him leave.
Six hundred seventy-one dollars.
They had twenty-four hours.
For the first time, Tilly had no immediate solution.
The buyers already possessed what they needed.
They had slaughtered as many cattle as the weakened herd could withstand.
The smokehouse could not magically double its output.
Gideon went into the ranch house.
He closed the door.
Tilly waited ten minutes before following.
He stood by the window.
"Don't."
She stopped.
"Don't what?"
"Tell me we're going to figure it out."
"We are."
"Don't."
He turned.
For the first time since she had met him, Gideon looked broken.
"I did everything."
His voice cracked slightly.
"I worked this place since I was twelve. Buried my brother here. Buried my mother here. Watched my father die upstairs. I've sold cattle, horses, equipment. I owe wages. I owe merchants."
He looked toward the window.
"And somehow Caldwell just writes another number on a piece of paper and wins."
Tilly approached.
"He hasn't won."
"You can't cook six hundred dollars by tomorrow."
"No."
"Then what?"
She had no answer.
Gideon laughed bitterly.
"Exactly."
Tilly touched his arm.
He looked down at her hand.
"I should've sold two years ago."
"No."
"I should've known when to quit."
"No."
"Tilly—"
"Stop."
Her voice became fierce.
"The man I met a month ago was defeated."
Gideon stared.
"You were walking around this ranch waiting for it to die so you could tell yourself you fought until the end."
His face hardened.
"That's not fair."
"No. It isn't."
She stepped closer.
"But then you let me build a smokehouse."
"You built it."
"You gave me the chance."
She pointed outside.
"Buck stayed. Zayn stayed. Hollis believed. Customers came seventy miles to buy food made on this ranch."
Gideon's anger faded.
"You think Cross Creek is four thousand acres and a deed?"
She pressed her hand against his chest.
"This is Cross Creek."
He stared at her.
"And so am I now, whether you like it or not."
The distance between them vanished.
Gideon kissed her.
For one heartbeat Tilly froze.
Then her hands caught his shirt.
It was not a polished kiss.
It carried exhaustion, fear, gratitude, and everything both had refused to say.
When they separated, Gideon's forehead rested against hers.
"I've wanted to do that for weeks."
Tilly breathed shakily.
"Terrible timing."
"Usually is."
She almost laughed.
Then someone pounded on the front door.
Buck shouted.
"Boss!"
Gideon groaned.
Tilly smiled despite herself.
"Apparently we're never allowed a moment."
They went outside.
A rider waited in the yard.
Everett Shaw.
The trail boss who had bought their first fifty pounds of smoked beef.
Behind him were three wagons.
"What are you doing here?" Gideon asked.
Shaw dismounted.
"Heard some banker was trying to take the ranch producing my favorite trail beef."
"Caldwell."
"Yeah. Him."
Shaw handed Gideon an envelope.
"Got an offer."
Gideon opened it.
Tilly read over his shoulder.
CONTRACT: CROSS CREEK RANCH TO PROVIDE 2,000 POUNDS PRESERVED BEEF OVER 90 DAYS.
ADVANCE PAYMENT: $800.
Gideon stared.
"You want two thousand pounds?"
"Starting next month."
"We're barely equipped for five hundred."
"Then get equipped."
"Why me?"
Shaw laughed.
"Because my men nearly rioted when I replaced your beef with salt pork."
Buck nodded solemnly.
"Understandable."
Shaw looked at Tilly.
"Also heard she's the reason it's good."
Tilly smiled.
"Mostly."
Gideon looked at the advance.
Eight hundred dollars.
Enough.
More than enough.
For the second time in twenty-four hours, Cross Creek exploded into celebration.
But Tilly wasn't looking at the money.
She was watching the horizon.
Because Caldwell still believed he was coming tomorrow to collect a ranch.
And she wanted to see his face when he learned Cross Creek had become something he could no longer buy cheaply.