“Win, these are beautiful.” Molly walked over to the line of portraits, all of them over three feet high including their ornate gilt frames.

Four pictures in a perfect row.

“The first two are my grandmother and grandfather, next is my mother, and the last is my mother holding me.”

“Why isn’t there a portrait of your pa?” Wyatt asked quietly. Molly suspected if there had been a picture, Wyatt might’ve offered to haul it away to burn.

They didn’t talk about Win’s pa much. She’d wanted no part in attending the hanging of Oliver Hawkins and Randall Kingston. They’d both richly earned their punishment, especially as more and more came out about their criminal dealings.

But that didn’t make it easy for Win to talk about.

“I’m not sure why there’s no painting of him. My guess is, my grandparents . . . my ma, too, come to that, realized Ma had made a terrible mistake. No one wanted to add him to the family gallery. I’m surprised he didn’t burn these. He probably would have if he wasn’t such a lazy old beast.”

Molly studied the pictures. “You look more like your ma than your grandmother, though you have her eyes.”

Win’s bright blue eyes were a match for the grandmother and the child little older than a toddler.

“I believe I was four or so when this was painted, it was just before we came west. Once I found this, I remembered a few things about it being painted. Vague memories of being told by my ma to sit still.” Win smiled, the memories good ones. Molly was glad she had them.

“We’re closing up the attic and may close the second floor before winter. We are living in the rooms you used, Molly. There are two of them, and little Dorothy is in the second room. We’re right by the kitchen”—Kevin shrugged—“the rest of the house is just wasted space that takes a lot of hard work to heat.”

Molly knew that, though they lived in a mansion and had enough to eat, times were hard for Kevin and Win. Their cattle had mostly been stolen or neglected. Hawkins had spent Win’s ma’s money. They had vast land holdings but to build up a herd to make use of that land would take years.

“What is all this up here, Win? Old trunks, chests, furniture.” Wyatt flipped the lid up on one. “Have you searched for treasure yet?”

“No, I had no interest in it while I was expecting. I just didn’t want to have to spend time thinking about Pa, and I was a little too round to spend much time on the stairs. But now it was finally time, and I came up here and found things I wish I’d had all along.”