Cade

"You didn't hear anything?"

"I was young, and my father kept me shielded from anything unpleasant, so no, I didn't hear any of the details."

"She was murdered."

Bella gasped. She'd had no idea.

"By Edward Dobson."

Bella's hands flew to her mouth. That couldn't be true. "No … that's not possible …"

Cade laughed bitterly. "See, I knew you wouldn't believe me—"

He moved to turn away, but Bella grabbed his elbow. "Wait …"

He met her gaze, his eyes filled with pain and anger. "What?"

"Tell me everything," Bella said softly as she sank into the rocking chair and looked up at him.

For a long moment, Cade stared at her as if he was trying to decide if he should tell her the truth. Apparently deciding to trust her, he began. "He murdered her in cold blood. He got away with it. What more is there to tell you?"

"The details. Tell me what happened."

A log shifted in the fireplace, sending up a shower of sparks. Cade ran a hand through his hair. "Where do I start?"

"At the beginning."

"Okay," he said. "If you really want to know."

"I do."

Cade dragged a chair from the table closer to the fire. He straddled it, facing her. She noticed his fists were clenched, his body stiff.

"It was the day we buried Pa. By the time we got home, it was late in the afternoon. I went out to the barn and was brushing Dusty. Ma was in the house alone. I heard horses' hoofbeats, and when I looked out, Dobson's buggy was coming toward the house. I didn't think too much about it at the time."

"Had he come to offer condolences on your father's death?" Bella asked.

"That's what I thought," Cade answered. His gaze shifted to the flames curling around the wood in the fireplace. His face held a faraway look and his voice softened, as if he was reliving that afternoon.

Isabella leaned forward, straining to hear the rest of the story. "A while later, I put Dusty in his stall and gave him some oats. When I came around to the front of the house, Dobson was just coming out. He stared right at me and smiled. Then he got in his wagon and left."

Isabella sensed what he was about to tell her. Her insides clenched. "What happened next?"

"I went inside." In the firelight, Isabella noticed the way his eyes glistened, the pain he was suffering evident on his face. She was desperate to hear the rest of the story, but she waited quietly until he was ready to continue.

"Ma was dead." His voice was flat.

Even though Isabella had expected to hear that, the words still cut her. Cade's mother had been like a second mother to her when she was a child. Mrs. Morgan's death had hit her hard, but she'd assumed her death was from an accident, not as a result of violence.

"You think Edward killed her?" she asked.

Cade turned to face her. "I don't think it. I know it."

"How … how did she die …?"

"He raped her, and then he beat her to death."

His words sank into her, and her stomach clenched. She reached out and rested her hand on Cade's arm. "I'm so sorry," she said, her sympathy for the boy who'd witnessed such horror overwhelming her.