Ruth's eyes widened.
"Then Mercer may have been killed because of it."
The room fell silent.
Outside, a wagon rolled past the house.
Ruth rose and closed the curtains.
"Vane has been buying judges, deputies, and land agents for years. If he learns that you have evidence, he will do anything to get it."
Wade stood.
"Then we should find Mercer's proof before he does."
Ruth nodded.
"I know where to begin."
She walked to a bookshelf and removed an old ledger.
"Mercer used to keep records of his surveys at the abandoned mining office near the southern canyon. If he left anything behind, it will be there."
Nasha studied the map.
"The canyon has two entrances. The western one is dangerous after rain."
Ruth looked at her.
"You know the land?"
"My father took me there many times."
"Then you can guide us."
Wade frowned.
"We'll need horses, supplies, and at least one more person."
Ruth smiled.
"I know someone."
She opened the back door and called into the yard.
A moment later, a tall Black man with a gray beard appeared carrying a rifle.
"This is Jonah Reed," Ruth said. "He was a scout with the territorial cavalry before he became a blacksmith."
Jonah nodded to Wade.
"I hear you're looking for trouble."
Wade sighed.
"Seems trouble has found me."
Jonah smiled.
"That's usually how it starts."
They left Red Creek before dawn.
Wade, Nasha, Ruth, and Jonah rode south through the foothills, avoiding the main road. Ruth had insisted on coming, despite Wade's protests that the journey would be dangerous.
"I spent twenty years watching men like Vane destroy other people's lives," she said. "I'm not staying home while someone finally tries to stop him."
Jonah rode beside her, carrying a small pack of tools and a rifle.
Nasha led the way.
She moved through the hills with a confidence that impressed Wade. She knew where the ground was firm, where the creek could be crossed, and which narrow paths would conceal them from riders on the main road.
By midday, they reached the abandoned mining office.
The building stood beside a dry ravine, its roof partly collapsed. Rusted equipment lay scattered across the ground, and the windows were covered with dust.
Jonah dismounted and examined the door.
"Someone's been here recently."
Wade looked at the tracks.
"Vane's men?"
"Could be."
Nasha crouched beside the entrance.
"Three men. They came yesterday."
Ruth's face tightened.
"Then we may already be too late."
Wade drew his pistol.
"Let's find out."
Inside, the office smelled of damp wood and old paper. A desk stood near the window, and shelves lined the walls.
Most of the documents had been torn apart or burned.
Jonah searched the desk while Ruth examined the shelves.
Nasha moved toward a small iron stove.
She knelt and ran her fingers along the stones beneath it.
"Here."
Wade approached.
She pointed to a loose stone in the floor.
Jonah used a screwdriver to lift it.
Beneath the stone lay a metal box.
Inside were several documents, a small notebook, and a folded letter.
Ruth opened the notebook.
Her hands began to tremble.
"This is Mercer's handwriting."
She read the first page, then turned to the next.
The notebook contained detailed records of land surveys, water routes, and payments made to county officials.
Wade leaned over her shoulder.
"Can you prove Vane stole the land?"
Ruth nodded slowly.
"Yes. These records show that the original boundaries were changed after the families were driven away."
Nasha picked up the letter.
It was addressed to her father.
She unfolded it.
The message was brief.
Your knowledge of the springs is the only thing standing between these families and the men who wish to take their land. I have copied the records and hidden them where they cannot be destroyed. If anything happens to me, find the woman who keeps the schoolhouse records in Red Creek.
Nasha read the letter twice.
"Mercer knew."
Ruth looked at her.
"He trusted me."
A sound came from outside.
Jonah raised his rifle.
"Someone's coming."
Wade moved to the window.
Three riders were approaching the building.
At their head was Silas Vane.
He dismounted slowly and removed his gloves.
"Mr. Sutter," he called. "I was hoping we'd meet again."
Wade stepped into the doorway.
"You should have stayed in town."
Vane smiled.
"On the contrary. I believe I am exactly where I need to be."
He glanced past Wade toward the others.
"Miss Holloway. Mr. Reed. And Nasha."
His eyes settled on the woman.
"You have something that belongs to me."
Nasha stepped forward.
"No. You have taken enough."
Vane's smile vanished.
"Give me the documents."
Ruth held the notebook against her chest.
"These records belong to the territorial land office."
"Those records are stolen property."
"Then why are you so desperate to destroy them?"
For a moment, Vane said nothing.
Then he raised his hand.
His men lifted their rifles.
Wade's fingers tightened around his pistol.
The canyon wind swept through the broken windows.
No one moved.
Then a voice rang out from the ridge.
"Drop your weapons!"
A dozen riders appeared above the ravine.
At their head was Sheriff Harlan.
Wade felt a brief surge of relief.
Then he noticed that the sheriff's rifle was pointed directly at him.
"Well, well," Vane said. "Looks like the law has arrived."
Sheriff Harlan dismounted.
He was a broad-shouldered man with a thick mustache and a face that rarely showed emotion.
"Put your weapons down, Sutter."
Wade stared at him.
"You're arresting us?"
"I'm arresting you for trespassing, theft, and assault."
Jonah laughed bitterly.
"That's a fine collection of lies."
Harlan ignored him.
"Hand over the documents."
Ruth stepped forward.
"Those documents prove that Vane has been stealing land."
The sheriff looked at her.
"You're interfering with an official investigation."
"What investigation?"
Harlan's face darkened.
"Miss Holloway, I suggest you be quiet."
Nasha watched the sheriff carefully.
She had seen men like him before. Men who believed that a badge made their decisions honorable.
Vane walked toward the office.
"Thank you, Sheriff."
He extended his hand.
"Now, if you'll excuse us, I believe we have some property to recover."
Harlan nodded.
Wade realized that the sheriff had never intended to arrest Vane.
He had come to protect him.
"You're making a mistake, Harlan," Wade said.
The sheriff looked at him.
"Save your speeches for the judge."
He gestured to his deputies.
"Take them."
The men began moving forward.
Then Nasha stepped into the center of the clearing.
"Wait."
Everyone turned.
She reached into her pouch and removed the folded cloth containing the water map.
Vane's expression changed.
"There it is."
He took a step toward her.
Nasha held the map high.
"This is what you want."
Vane nodded.
"Give it to me."
"No."
His face tightened.
"You have no idea what you're doing."
"I know exactly what I am doing."
She turned toward the sheriff.
"You have a badge. Tell me, Sheriff Harlan, is it lawful to take land from families who have lived there for generations?"
The sheriff said nothing.
"Is it lawful to burn their homes? To imprison men who refuse to surrender their property? To sell a woman at auction because she knows where the water flows?"
A murmur moved through the deputies.
Harlan's expression changed.
"That's enough."
Nasha continued.
"My father gave this map to protect our people. He divided it into three pieces because he knew men like Vane would try to steal it."
Vane stepped forward.
"She's lying."
Nasha turned toward him.
"Then why did you come here?"
He said nothing.
For a moment, the only sound was the wind.
Then Ruth raised the notebook.
"I have the survey records. I have the payment lists. I have Mercer's letters."
She looked directly at the sheriff.
"And I have copies in the town schoolhouse. If anything happens to us, they will be delivered to the territorial judge."