“What does this mean?”
Mara pointed to his father's name.
“Your father wasn't a victim.”
Ethan's face tightened.
“He was investigating them.”
“He was working with them.”
“No.”
Mara showed him a signature.
Samuel Cole had signed a transfer of land.
Ethan shook his head.
“My father couldn't have done this.”
“He may have been forced.”
Then they heard horses.
Many horses.
Mara closed the box.
“Too late.”
Gunfire erupted outside.
The cabin door splintered.
Ethan fired through the wall.
Mara moved toward the rear window.
“We need to leave.”
“How?”
She pointed upward.
The cabin had a narrow loft.
They climbed.
Men entered below.
“Find them!”
Ethan looked at Mara.
She whispered.
“Roof.”
They climbed through the rafters and onto the roof.
Below them, six riders surrounded the cabin.
Mara aimed.
Ethan stopped her.
“Wait.”
“Why?”
“The leader.”
A man removed his hat.
Ethan recognized him.
Sheriff Crane.
Ethan's face changed.
“He lied.”
Mara shook her head.
“Look closer.”
Crane turned toward the other men.
“You were told to bring them alive.”
One of the men laughed.
“Blackstone wants them dead.”
Crane drew his revolver.
“I said alive.”
A shot rang out.
Crane killed the man.
The others fired.
Chaos erupted.
Mara and Ethan climbed down the far side.
They ran into the forest.
Crane followed.
“Cole!”
Ethan turned.
Crane threw him a rifle.
“Go!”
“What are you doing?”
“Buying you time.”
Mara pulled Ethan away.
They ran.
Behind them, gunfire echoed through the trees.
Then silence.
They reached the horses.
Ethan looked back.
“Crane saved us.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Mara answered quietly.
“Because sometimes fear loses to conscience.”
They rode through the night.
At dawn, they reached a narrow valley.
Ethan finally stopped.
Mara dismounted.
“You're hurt.”
A bullet had grazed her shoulder.
“It’s nothing.”
Blood ran down her sleeve.
Ethan tore cloth from his shirt and wrapped the wound.
Mara watched him.
“You should hate me.”
“For what?”
“For coming to your gate.”
“You didn't pull the trigger.”
“Not yet.”
Ethan looked into her eyes.
“You've had opportunities.”
“So have you.”
They stood close.
Neither moved.
Then Ethan said softly:
“My father trusted you.”
Mara nodded.
“And now?”
“I trust you.”
It was the first time either of them smiled.
The Judge's House
They returned to town before sunrise.
Mara had a plan.
The documents were enough to expose Blackstone, but only if they reached federal authorities.
Judge Holloway controlled the courthouse.
Sheriff Crane was missing.
The town's telegraph operator was loyal to Blackstone.
They needed another way.
Mara knew one.
The newspaper.
The editor, Thomas Bell, owed Samuel Cole a debt.
They found him locked inside his office.
Blackstone's men had beaten him.
Mara cut his ropes.
“We have proof.”
Bell looked at the documents.
His hands trembled.
“This could destroy half the county.”
“That's the point.”
He looked at Ethan.
“Your father died trying to publish this.”
Ethan froze.
“He tried?”
Bell nodded.
“The judge stopped him.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I was afraid.”
Ethan looked down.
“So was everyone.”
Bell stood.
“Not everyone.”
Mara understood.
“Who?”
Bell pointed upstairs.
A teenage boy emerged.
“His name is Samuel.”
Ethan stared.
The boy looked like his father.
Same eyes.
Same jaw.
“My brother,” Ethan whispered.
The boy nodded.