“And if Voss ignores the law?”
“Then we protect the people. But we should give the law every opportunity to work before we risk lives.”
Tomas nodded.
“That is what I hoped you would say.”
The chief stood.
“Tomorrow, we will meet the company at the spring. We will show them the survey and demand that they remove the barrier.”
Naya rose beside him.
“And if they refuse?”
Tomas looked toward his daughters.
“Then we will decide what must be done.”
Before the meeting ended, he asked Ethan to remain.
The others left slowly, carrying their supplies and discussing the plans for the morning.
Tomas stood beneath the cottonwood tree, looking toward the stars.
“My daughters have chosen their own paths,” he said. “I will not tell them whom to marry.”
Ethan waited.
“But I want you to understand that if you become part of this family, you must accept that they will never belong to you.”
“I understand.”
“They will disagree with you. They will challenge you. They will sometimes make decisions you do not like.”
Ethan smiled faintly.
“I have already noticed.”
Tomas laughed.
Then his expression became serious.
“If you stand beside them, you must stand beside them when the road becomes difficult. Not only when the sun shines and the valley is peaceful.”
Ethan met his gaze.
“I will.”
Tomas held out his hand.
“Then we have an understanding.”
Ethan shook it.
It was not a marriage contract. It was not a promise that the three sisters would become his wives. It was something simpler and, in Ethan's view, more important.
A promise of mutual respect.
The next morning, the company arrived shortly after sunrise.
Twenty-seven armed riders came through the western approach, followed by two wagons. Silas Rourke rode at the front, wearing a black hat and a long coat despite the heat.
Behind him rode Nathaniel Voss.
Voss was a wealthy cattleman in his early fifties, with neatly trimmed hair and a face that appeared permanently amused. He carried himself like a man accustomed to being obeyed.
When he saw Ethan standing beside Tomas, his expression changed.
“Cole.”
Ethan stepped forward.
“Mr. Voss.”
“I did not expect to see you here.”
“I imagine you did not.”
Voss glanced toward the settlement.
“I understand you have been helping these people.”
“I have.”
“Then perhaps you should understand that this is a business matter.”
Ethan opened the leather case.
“It is a matter of land and water rights. I have the original survey.”
Voss's eyes moved toward the document.
For the first time, the confidence in his expression faltered.
Ethan held up the survey so that the riders could see the seal.
“This valley was designated shared grazing territory. The spring is reserved for the surrounding communities. Your lease is not valid.”
Voss looked at Rourke.
The foreman stepped forward.
“That document is outdated.”
Ethan shook his head.
“It has never been superseded. The territorial records confirm the boundary.”
“Who says?”
“The original surveyor. The witnesses. My father. And the records in the territorial office.”
Voss smiled thinly.
“Your father is dead.”
“Yes.”
“Then he cannot testify.”
Ethan felt anger rise, but he kept his voice steady.
“The document can.”
Voss looked toward the spring.
“I have invested a considerable amount of money in this valley. I have contracts with the railroad. I have agreements with the territorial authorities. I intend to protect my investment.”
Tomas stepped forward.
“This water has sustained our families for generations.”
Voss barely looked at him.
“Your people have no legal claim.”
Naya moved beside her father.
“We have the survey.”
Voss turned toward her.
“I am speaking to the chief.”
Naya did not move.
“And I am speaking for myself.”
For a moment, the riders watched in silence.
Voss looked back at Ethan.
“You have a ranch of your own, Cole. A good one. You should think carefully before you involve yourself in matters that do not concern you.”
“They concern me.”
“Then you may find your ranch involved in them as well.”
Ethan understood the threat.
Voss was reminding him that a powerful company could make life difficult for anyone who opposed it.
But Ethan had already made his decision.
“Remove the barrier,” he said. “Withdraw your men from the valley. We will submit the documents to the territorial judge.”
Voss's expression hardened.
“You have until noon to reconsider.”
Tomas answered before Ethan could speak.
“We have already reconsidered. The answer is no.”
Voss turned his horse.
“Rourke.”
The foreman nodded.
The company riders began moving toward the spring.
Tomas's men raised their rifles.
Naya stepped forward.
Lena and Sani rode into position beside her.
Ethan mounted Boone.
For a moment, the entire valley seemed to hold its breath.
Then a rider appeared on the eastern ridge.
He was carrying a white cloth tied to the end of a rifle.
Lena's messenger had returned.
Behind him rode two men from neighboring ranches and a territorial deputy.
The deputy carried a sealed document.
He rode directly toward Voss.
“Mr. Voss, I have an order from the territorial judge.”
Voss turned sharply.
“What order?”
The deputy dismounted and handed him the document.
It instructed the company to suspend all activity at Dry River pending a formal review of the disputed water rights.
The order also prohibited the company from removing residents or interfering with access to the spring.
Voss read the document.
His face turned red.
“This is absurd.”
The deputy remained calm.
“It is a lawful order.”
Voss looked toward Ethan.
“You think this is over?”
“No,” Ethan replied. “I think it is beginning.”
For several seconds, neither man moved.
Then Voss folded the document and placed it inside his coat.
“Withdraw,” he ordered.
The company riders turned their horses.
As they moved back toward the western ridge, Rourke looked over his shoulder at Ethan.
“This isn't finished.”
Ethan watched them go.
“No,” he said quietly. “It isn't.”
The settlement erupted in relieved voices.
Several children ran toward the spring. Lena embraced one of the older women. Sani laughed and raised her rifle above her head.
Naya remained beside Ethan.
“You were right,” she said.
“About what?”
“We gave the law a chance.”
Ethan looked toward the western ridge.
“And it gave us time.”
Tomas approached them.
“The territorial judge has agreed to review the survey. We have won a day.”
He paused.
“But Voss will return.”
Ethan nodded.
“Then we will be ready.”
Over the following weeks, the valley became the center of a legal struggle that reached beyond the territory.
The company challenged the survey and argued that the original agreement had been superseded by later territorial legislation. Its attorneys attempted to discredit the witnesses and questioned whether the Apache families had continuously occupied the spring.
Ethan traveled between Cedar Ridge and the territorial courthouse, presenting copies of the documents and locating people who could testify.
Abel Morgan brought the son of one of the original survey witnesses. The man carried a family Bible containing a record of the agreement and the names of the people who had signed it.
Lena organized the testimonies of the families who depended on the spring.
Naya worked with the elders to prepare a detailed account of the settlement's history.
Sani rode to neighboring communities, gathering support and making sure that the company's threats were known throughout the territory.
The sisters did not wait for Ethan to lead them.
They led in their own ways.
And Ethan discovered that standing beside them meant trusting their judgment, even when their decisions differed from his.
One evening, after a long day at the courthouse, he returned to Dry River and found Naya waiting near the spring.
She was watching the water flow through the channel.