Then, in that moment, he knew one thing with certainty.
He believed her.
But belief alone would not protect her.
Because Willow Creek had already made up its mind.
And the sheriff was coming.
The morning sun had barely risen over the Montana hills when Silas heard the sound of hooves coming up the dirt road.
They were slow and steady.
The kind of sound that meant business.
Silas stepped onto the porch just as Sheriff Harlan rode into the yard.
His gray horse snorted softly as it stopped near the gate.
The sheriff climbed down and dusted off his coat before looking toward the cabin.
Faith appeared in the doorway behind Silas, wiping flour from her hands onto her apron.
She had been baking again that morning.
The smell of fresh bread drifted from the kitchen behind her.
Sheriff Harlan gave her a short nod.
"Ma'am."
Then he turned his eyes to Silas.
"Mind if I ask her a few questions?"
Silas stepped down from the porch slowly.
Without thinking, he moved half a step closer to Faith.
"Ask."
The three of them stood in the yard while the wind moved softly through the grass.
The sheriff pulled a small notebook from his vest and tapped his pencil against the page.
"When did you arrive in Willow Creek?" he asked.
Faith answered calmly.
"Five weeks ago. September 16th."
"Where from?"
"Cincinnati. I worked at the Morrison Textile Mill."
The sheriff scribbled something down.
Then he looked up again.
"Anyone who can confirm where you were the night before the bank robbery?"
Faith's jaw tightened.
"I was here in this cabin."
Sheriff Harlan slowly turned his eyes to Silas.
"You confirm that?"
Silas did not hesitate.
"She didn't leave."
The sheriff wrote another note before closing the small book and slipping it back into his vest.
"I haven't decided anything yet," he said.
His voice carried a warning beneath the calm words.
"But don't leave the county."
Then he leaned closer to Silas and lowered his voice.
"If I were you," he said quietly, "I'd sleep with one eye open."
The sheriff mounted his horse again and rode away, leaving a cloud of dust drifting behind him.
Faith stood very still in the yard.
Her face had gone pale.
That night, Silas woke to the quiet sound of fabric moving across the wooden floor.
He stepped into the front room and found Faith kneeling beside her open valise.
Clothes lay scattered around her while she quickly folded them and stuffed them back inside.
"What are you doing?" Silas asked.
Faith froze.
Then she spoke softly.
"I have to leave."
Silas frowned.
"You heard the sheriff," she said. "The town already believes I robbed the bank. If I stay here, they will drag you into it too. They will take your land."
Her voice grew quieter.
"I won't ruin your life the way that man ruined mine."
Silas walked to the table and pulled out a chair.