Early one morning Mary was awakened in her bed by the sound of a hushed commotion happening somewhere in the house. She followed the noise to her father's room.
"You'll wake Jamie. What's going on?" she said groggily as she came to his bedroom door.
He paused for a moment, then his expression became stony. "What's going on?" he said in a whisper. "Oh, I'll show you what's going on. Follow me out to the barn."
"What?"
"Just come," he said sternly.
Confused and still in her nightgown, she followed her father outside for the long walk through the crisp morning air, across the property to the barn. She noticed that her father had grabbed his cap and pistol from the house.
When they came up to the door of the barn, her father stopped and turned to her. "Go ahead," he said blankly, motioning inside.
She studied his expression, then eyed the pistol in his hand at his side. Becoming anxious, she slowly entered the barn.
What she saw was Billy's motionless body lying on the ground in a pool of blood. Her breath caught and she held her mouth, trying not to scream. She took a few timid steps towards the body as her father walked into the barn. It was apparent he had been stabbed in the gut.
"Poor, unfortunate bastard," her father said standing over Billy. "I had expected to find him already working the grounds this morning, but he was nowhere to be found. Now I know why. Looks to me like someone got the jump on him and robbed him last night. He hasn't got a thing of proper worth on him, not even the pocket watch I've seen him take out."
Mary shook her head as she looked at Billy's open, empty eyes, frozen in time. A cold tremble ran down her back, and she shivered as her mind went to what those eyes might have seen in their last living moments.
"Now you see," her father said. "Finally, now, after the loss of life, you see the truth. Why you need to stay away from that horrid monster."
Mary looked up at him. It was now clear that her father had a different idea of what Billy's eyes had seen at the last. She scrunched her face in shock and disgust at the notion. "How could you think he could do something so egregious?!" she said.
"Oh, I don't know, because he's an outlaw!" her father shot back. "And because Billy was one of the only things standing in his way of you!"
She stopped short at the statement, uncertain how to best respond. Her father took the pause as at least partial concession.
"It's awfully convenient, isn't it?" he said slowly. "He would be utilizing his only talents and making his path to you clear."
She thought about how she wished she'd been with Arthur yesterday evening; she wouldn't have hesitated to expose their continued meetings to clear his name. "I'm not willing to accuse him for something so horrible when I don't know any of the facts," she said firmly.
"Daughter, wake up! Why are you defending him?" He paused. "Are you still connected to him in some way?" His eyes ran over her face and finally held her gaze in search of a chink in her armor. For the briefest moment, her eyes faltered. "I knew it!" he yelled. "How could you?!"
"Because I love him," she said. "As long as I live, Daddy, I swear to you, that will never change."
He turned towards her, his gaze cold as the lifeless body on the ground. "Is this the life you want?" He didn't expect her to offer an answer, and he didn't wait for one. "Is this the kind of man you want to marry? A man who takes life without a second thought? A man whose very nature is to do harm—"
"You don't know he did this."
"And you're foolin' yourself. Depravity is his lifeblood." He stepped towards her. "Is this the kind of man you're prepared to give your heart and soul to?"
She swallowed and boldly met his eyes. "It's too late for that, Daddy."
He shook his head. "And you love him." He looked at her, and his gaze softened. "A man who would rather sell his soul for a silver dollar than find out what treasure in this life cannot be held with hands. He will die with abundance or in destitution—most likely the latter—but either way, he will come to the end of his life and find that he is abandoned and bankrupt in that most precious currency which truly makes a man rich. The irony is he will slaughter as many innocents as it takes to get there. All that awaits you in his world is a trail of heartache and devastation. Forgive me if I hate him." He almost spat as he said it and walked past her. "You just ask him. Pay attention to his answer."
She turned after him. "Ask him what: if he did this, or if he's the kind of man you think he is?"
At her question, her father stopped and looked to his side. After a few seconds, he continued and left without another word.