Black Canyon Spring did not.
Vale built fences.
He hired guards.
Then he began charging ranchers for water.
At first, the price was manageable.
Then it doubled.
Then doubled again.
Those who could not pay sold their ranches.
Usually to Vale.
Jacob counted at least nine ranches lost that way.
A bartender placed whiskey in front of him.
"You're the man who talked back to Silas Crane."
"Apparently."
"Not smart."
"I hear that often."
The bartender leaned closer.
"Leave before morning."
Jacob picked up the glass.
"Why?"
"Because Crane doesn't forget."
A voice came from behind him.
"Neither do I."
Jacob froze.
He knew that voice.
He had not heard it in fourteen years.
Slowly, he turned.
A man stood near the bar.
Older now.
Heavier.
Gray at the temples.
But unmistakable.
"Daniel."
Daniel Mercer stared at him.
"Hello, Jacob."
Jacob stood.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
"You live here?"
"Seven years."
"I thought you were dead."
Daniel laughed without humor.
"A lot of men hoped so."
Jacob glanced toward the door.
"We should talk."
"We should have talked fourteen years ago."
Daniel walked outside.
Jacob followed.
They stood behind the saloon beneath a black sky.
Daniel turned.
"Why are you here?"
"Passing through."
"That's what you always do."
Jacob ignored the insult.
"What happened to Red Mesa?"
"Vale."
"I gathered."
Daniel studied him.
"Do you know why Vale owns Black Canyon?"
Jacob shook his head.
Daniel stepped closer.
"Because of you."
Jacob stared at him.
"What?"
"Fourteen years ago, you stole a survey map from Colonel Avery."
Jacob remembered.
The memory came back instantly.
A military land office.
A locked cabinet.
A map.
A job that had paid two hundred dollars.
"I didn't know what it was."
"That map showed underground water channels across this entire valley."
Jacob felt cold despite the heat.
Daniel continued.
"You sold it."
"To a broker."
"Who sold it to Horace Vale."
Jacob said nothing.
"Vale knew exactly where to buy land."
Daniel pointed toward the dark hills.
"He didn't discover Black Canyon."
"He planned it."
"Yes."
Jacob looked toward Ellen's ranch.
Toward the dry flats.
"How many people lost their homes?"
Daniel answered quietly.
"Enough."
Jacob closed his eyes.
He had spent years forgetting old jobs.
Old robberies.
Old mistakes.
Suddenly one of them had become a town.
"Where is Vale?"
Daniel pointed north.
"Vale Ranch. Twelve miles."
Jacob picked up his hat.
Daniel grabbed his arm.
"Don't."
Jacob looked at him.
"Why?"
"Because this isn't a problem you solve with a gun."
Jacob's face hardened.
"Then maybe I've been solving problems wrong."
Daniel released him.
"What are you going to do?"
Jacob looked toward Black Canyon.
"Find out what I helped steal."
The Price of Water
Jacob rode into Black Canyon before sunrise.
The entrance was narrow enough that two wagons could barely pass side by side.
High stone walls rose on both sides.
Half a mile inside, the canyon widened.
There, beneath cottonwoods and pale rock, water emerged from the earth.
More water than Jacob expected.
A clear pool fed a narrow stream.
Vale's men had built a small dam and diversion channels.
Wooden pipes carried water east.
Jacob dismounted behind a cluster of boulders.
He counted guards.
Six.
Maybe more.
A wagon arrived.
Two ranchers waited while guards filled barrels.
A clerk collected money.
Jacob watched.
The spring was large enough to provide far more water than Red Mesa needed.
Vale was deliberately restricting access.
He wanted scarcity.
Scarcity created debt.
Debt created land.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
Jacob turned.
A revolver pointed at his chest.
Silas Crane smiled.
"I wondered when you'd come."
Jacob slowly raised his hands.
Crane took his gun.
"You weren't difficult to follow."
"I wasn't trying to hide."
"That makes you either brave or stupid."
"Most people choose stupid."
Crane laughed.
"Walk."
They took Jacob to a cabin near the spring.
Horace Vale sat inside.
He was in his late fifties.
White shirt.
Black vest.
Silver pocket watch.
Everything about him looked controlled.
He poured coffee.
"Jacob Reed."
Jacob stopped.
"So you know me."
"I've known your name for fourteen years."
Vale gestured toward a chair.
Jacob sat.
Crane remained behind him.
Vale smiled.
"You once did me a great service."
"I heard."
"Did Daniel tell you?"
"Some."
Vale took a drink.
"You stole the Avery survey."
"I didn't know what it showed."
"Would it have mattered?"
Jacob said nothing.
Vale smiled.
"Exactly."
"What do you want?"
"Nothing."
"Then why am I here?"
"Curiosity."
Vale stood and walked to the window.
"You were a talented young man."
"Thief."
"If you prefer."
"I do."
Vale turned.
"And now?"
"Now I'm tired."
"Of what?"
"Men like you."
Vale laughed.
"You've become moral."
"No."
Jacob looked toward the spring.
"I've become expensive."
Vale's smile vanished slightly.
Jacob continued.
"Ellen Harper owes you twenty-four dollars."
"She owes considerably more."
"How much for the ranch?"
"Why?"
"I might buy her debt."
Crane laughed.
Vale did not.
"You don't have enough money."
"Maybe."
Vale returned to the table.
"Mrs. Harper's property is worth four thousand dollars."
"Then why seize it for twenty-four?"
"Because the deed allows me."
Jacob stared at him.
"What is underneath her land?"
Vale paused.
That was enough.
Jacob smiled.
"So there is something."
Vale's expression hardened.
"Mr. Reed, leave Red Mesa."
"Why?"
"I am offering you a kindness."
"Men like you don't offer kindness."
"Then call it professional respect."
Jacob stood.
Crane raised the gun.
Vale lifted one hand.
"Let him go."
Crane frowned.
"Sir?"
"I said let him go."
Jacob walked toward the door.
Vale spoke behind him.
"There are things worse than guilt, Jacob."
Jacob stopped.
"Such as?"
"Trying to undo what cannot be undone."
Jacob looked over his shoulder.
"We'll see."
Ellen was repairing a fence when Jacob returned.
She watched him ride toward the house.
"You didn't leave."
"No."
"That wasn't a complaint."
Jacob dismounted.
"How much do you owe Vale?"
She looked away.
"Why?"
"How much?"
"Eighty-seven dollars."
"Crane said twenty-four."
"That's the payment due tomorrow."
Jacob reached into his boot and removed the money.
Thirty-seven dollars.
He handed it to her.