Its bell tower had collapsed decades earlier.
Charred wooden beams lay half buried beneath sand and vegetation.
One stone wall remained standing, and beyond it stood a low structure with a heavy wooden door.
Ayana dismounted.
“This is the place.”
Nathaniel examined the surrounding ground.
“Someone's been here.”
Koda immediately reached for his rifle.
“Recently?”
Nathaniel knelt beside a shallow hoofprint.
“Within the last few days.”
Solan looked toward the hills.
“Hargrove's men?”
“Maybe.”
Nathaniel stood.
“We should move carefully.”
Inside the stone building, the air smelled of dust, old timber, and damp earth.
Broken shelves lined the walls.
There were fragments of pottery, rusted tools, and a wooden table missing one leg.
At first, they found nothing.
Koda searched behind loose stones.
Solan examined an old cabinet.
Nathaniel studied the walls.
Ayana walked slowly across the floor.
She remembered standing there as a girl, holding her grandmother's hand.
She remembered a carved wooden cross.
A blue cloth folded on a shelf.
And an old man who had offered them water.
Most of all, she remembered her grandmother saying something strange.
Important things are sometimes kept where fire cannot reach them.
Ayana stopped.
“Fire,” she whispered.
Nathaniel turned.
“What?”
She looked at the floor.
The building had stone walls and a dirt foundation, but a narrow section near the northern wall was covered with thick planks.
She knelt.
“Help me lift these.”
Nathaniel brought a crowbar from his saddlebag.
Together, they pried the first board loose.
Beneath it lay compacted earth.
The second board revealed a shallow cavity.
And inside the cavity rested a metal box covered in rust.
Nobody spoke.
Nathaniel lifted it carefully.
The lock had nearly corroded away.
Koda struck it with the butt of his knife.
The lid opened.
Inside were several bundles of papers wrapped in oilcloth.
A small leather notebook.
And a silver medallion bearing the image of a saint.
Solan made a sound in his throat.
“I remember this.”
Ayana looked at him.
“From when?”
“Before the mission burned.”
Nathaniel unfolded the first document.
The writing was faded but legible.
It described a boundary agreement witnessed by a territorial official and several community representatives. The document was old and would require legal verification, but it appeared to recognize specific rights involving the water and settlement lands.
There were names.
Dates.
Seals.
And a hand-drawn map.
Ayana leaned closer.
“That is the true course of the spring.”
Nathaniel compared it with the altered survey.
The difference was unmistakable.
Hargrove's map placed the spring inside a neighboring parcel he controlled.
The older map showed it belonging to the valley's protected water area.
“This could stop him,” Nathaniel said.
“Could?” Koda demanded.
“We still need someone with authority to recognize it.”
Solan took the leather notebook.
He opened it carefully.
The first pages contained descriptions of weather, visitors, and supplies.
Then he found a name.
His face changed.
“Tavish's father.”
Ayana looked up.
“What?”
Solan pointed at the page.
“It says he was present when the agreement was witnessed.”
Ayana felt her pulse quicken.
For years, her father had spoken of his own father as a man who believed agreements with outsiders could only be trusted when written and witnessed.
Perhaps this was why.
Perhaps the old man had known that one day his descendants would need proof.
Nathaniel placed the documents inside his coat.
“We should leave.”
Koda turned toward the doorway.
“Why?”
“Because someone has already been searching here.”
A sharp crack echoed outside.
The sound of a rifle.
Stone splintered near the entrance.
Koda ducked.
“Down!”
A second shot struck the doorway.
Nathaniel grabbed Ayana and pulled her behind the heavy table.
Outside, a man shouted.
“Brooks! We know you're in there!”
Nathaniel felt his stomach drop.
He recognized the voice.
Clay Mercer.
Hargrove's chief enforcer.
A man with a broken nose, a reputation for cruelty, and a habit of smiling before he hurt someone.
“Come out,” Mercer called. “Mr. Hargrove just wants a conversation.”
Nathaniel glanced at the others.
There were at least four riders outside.
Possibly more.
He checked his revolver.
Six rounds.
Not enough for a prolonged fight.
Koda had a rifle.
Solan carried an old shotgun.
Ayana had a knife.
Nathaniel looked toward a narrow opening in the rear wall.
“Can you climb through there?” he whispered.
Ayana followed his gaze.
“Yes.”
“Take the papers.”
“No.”
“Ayana—”
“We came together.”
“And we're leaving together. But you need to get the papers to your father.”
She hesitated.
Nathaniel handed her the bundle.
“Please.”
It was the first time she had heard fear in his voice.
Not fear for himself.
Fear for her.
She accepted the papers.
Koda moved toward the rear opening.
“I'll go with her.”
Nathaniel nodded.
“Get the horses. Circle through the wash. Solan and I will hold them long enough.”
Ayana grabbed his arm.
“You'll be killed.”
“Not planning on it.”
“That is not an answer.”
He looked directly at her.
“Then here's one. I promise I'll do everything I can to come back.”
She stared at him.
Outside, Mercer shouted again.
“Last chance, Brooks!”
Nathaniel took Ayana's hand.
For one brief moment, everything around them seemed to disappear.
The ruined mission.
The gunfire.
The men waiting outside.
There was only the warmth of her fingers and the fear in her eyes.
“Go,” he whispered.
She squeezed his hand.
Then she crawled through the opening.
Minutes later, Nathaniel stepped into the doorway with his revolver drawn.
“Mercer!”
The enforcer appeared from behind a low stone wall.
“Well, look at you,” Mercer said. “Our missing cowboy.”
“Still ugly, I see.”
Mercer grinned.
“You always did have a mouth.”
“What does Hargrove want?”
“You know.”
Nathaniel shrugged.
“I've forgotten.”
Mercer's smile disappeared.
“The papers.”
“Burned them.”
“Don't insult me.”
“Then don't ask stupid questions.”
A rifle barrel shifted behind Mercer.
Nathaniel noticed it.
He also noticed movement far to the right.
Koda was guiding the horses into the wash.
Good.