Inside were crates.
Dynamite.
Tools.
Maps.
And correspondence.
The company had planned to destroy the spring itself.
If the water source disappeared, they could claim the valley was useless.
One letter contained the final instruction:
Once the Apache families are gone, destroy the spring channel. Then purchase the land cheaply.
Ethan's hands tightened.
Mara read over his shoulder.
“This is enough.”
“For what?”
“To prove everything.”
They carried the documents back.
But someone had followed them.
A shot struck the rock.
Mara dropped.
Ethan fired.
A man fled deeper into the tunnel.
Ethan chased him.
The tunnel opened onto a cliff.
The man jumped onto a horse waiting below.
Ethan stopped.
He knew the rider.
Marcus Bell.
The company lawyer.
Bell looked up.
“You can't stop what has already begun.”
Ethan raised his revolver.
“I don't need to.”
Bell rode away.
Behind him, the company had begun to collapse.
Tomas's Choice
Three days later, territorial officers arrived.
Grady was arrested.
Bell disappeared.
The company's local operations were suspended.
But Tomas faced another decision.
Officials offered his people a reservation farther east.
Tomas refused.
“We don't want land chosen for us.”
The officials argued.
Tomas remained calm.
“This valley is where our families can live.”
Ethan stood beside him.
“What do you need?”
Tomas smiled.
“Water.”
Ethan laughed.
“That I can help with.”
Together they rebuilt the water gate.
Ranchers worked beside Apache families.
Men who had once avoided each other now carried the same timber.
Women prepared food.
Children played near the spring.
For the first time, Dry River felt less like disputed territory and more like a community.
Mara watched Ethan working beside the creek.
“You changed.”
He looked at her.
“How?”
“You came looking for horses.”
“I found them.”
“You found more than horses.”
Ethan smiled.
“Maybe.”
She looked toward the valley.
“Will you leave?”
“No.”
“Why?”
He looked at her.
“I think I finally found home.”
The Last Ride of Grady's Men
Not everyone accepted the defeat.
Two weeks later, Grady's remaining hired men attacked the valley.
There were only seven.
But they came at night.
They intended to destroy the new water gate.
Ethan heard the horses first.
He woke Silas.
“Get everyone to the cottonwoods.”
Then he rode toward the creek.
Tomas was already there.
Mara stood beside him.
The attackers lit torches.
One threw a torch onto the wooden gate.
Ethan fired into the dirt.
“Drop them.”
The men hesitated.
Tomas shouted:
“You have lost.”
One man laughed.
Then a rifle cracked.
The man beside him dropped his torch.
Silas stood on the ridge.
The attackers looked around.
They were surrounded.
Not by soldiers.
By farmers.
Ranchers.
Families.
People who had decided they would no longer be divided.
The hired men surrendered.
The last one looked at Ethan.
“Why do you care so much about this place?”
Ethan glanced at the spring.
“Because you tried to make us fight over something that could keep us alive together.”
After the Fire
Winter came early that year.
The ranch survived.
Dry River survived.
The court eventually confirmed the original water rights.
The Frontier Water and Cattle Company lost its territorial claim.
Grady was sentenced for fraud, conspiracy, and destruction of property.
Marcus Bell was never found.
Some said he fled north.
Others said he crossed into another territory.
Ethan didn't care.
There were fences to repair.
Cattle to feed.
A barn to rebuild.
And a new house to construct.
He refused to rebuild the old one.
He built it closer to the eastern hill, where morning light reached the porch.
Mara helped choose the windows.
“You need more.”
“More windows?”
“Light.”
Ethan smiled.
“My father preferred small windows.”
“Your father is not building this house.”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“You are.”
Mara smiled.
“And you?”
“I carry the wood.”
She laughed.
Their friendship had changed slowly.
There had been no sudden declaration.