Samuel's eyes widened.
He looked at Elena.
She had woken.
She was sitting against the wall.
When she saw Tomas, she smiled weakly.
The old man's face softened.
For a moment, the tension disappeared.
Then Samuel noticed the riders.
Three hundred.
"Why did you bring an army?"
Tomas looked toward the hills.
"Because we believed she was dead."
Samuel stared.
Tomas continued.
"She left our camp yesterday carrying a message. She never returned."
Samuel remembered the leather cord.
"What message?"
Tomas looked at Elena.
She answered in a weak voice.
"Peace."
Samuel went still.
"Peace?"
She nodded.
Tomas explained.
"For six weeks, someone has been attacking ranches and our camps."
Samuel knew about the attacks.
Everyone did.
Cattle disappeared.
Water holes were contaminated.
Barns burned.
Men died.
The newspapers blamed Apache raiders.
Some settlers wanted militia patrols.
Others wanted revenge.
The territory had become a powder keg.
Tomas continued.
"Elena was carrying proof that the attacks were not committed by Apache."
Samuel looked at her.
"What proof?"
She touched her empty necklace.
"A copper tube."
"Where is it?"
Her eyes lowered.
"I lost it."
Tomas looked toward Samuel.
"She was followed."
"By whom?"
"We don't know."
Samuel remembered the night.
The woman had arrived alone.
No horse.
No wagon.
Just blood on her clothing and dust on her feet.
She had escaped someone.
Samuel suddenly understood the significance.
"If she had the message, someone may have taken it."
Tomas nodded.
"Or they may believe she still has it."
Samuel looked toward the three hundred riders.
"Then why are you here?"
Tomas answered quietly.
"Because we thought the men who chased her might come here."
Samuel looked around.
Nobody was coming.
Not yet.
Then a rider came racing from the east.
He stopped beside Tomas.
The man spoke rapidly in Apache.
Tomas's face darkened.
Elena translated.
"Two ranches burned during the night."
Samuel's jaw tightened.
"Which ones?"
"Barrett and Miller."
Samuel knew both men.
Neither liked the Apache.
Both had been demanding armed patrols.
Samuel looked toward the hills.
"What time?"
"After midnight."
He looked at Elena.
She had been asleep on his porch.
The timeline mattered.
If she had been here all night, she could not have participated.
But someone could use the fires to blame her people.
Samuel turned toward Tomas.
"You need to hear me."
Tomas waited.
"If someone is trying to start a war, three hundred armed men surrounding my ranch is exactly what they want."
The old warrior looked at him.
Samuel continued.
"They need people frightened."
He pointed toward the valley.
"They need settlers to see this."
Then toward the riders.
"And they need your people to look like an army."
Tomas was silent.
Samuel could see that the old man understood.
The problem was no longer simply finding Elena.
It was stopping everyone from believing the worst about everyone else.
And somewhere beyond the hills, someone was counting on fear to do the rest.
By midmorning, the ranch had become a meeting place.
Samuel hated every second of it.
Apache riders remained on the surrounding ridges.
Tomas stayed near the barn.
Elena sat beneath the shade of the porch.
Samuel brought her another cup of water.
She looked at him.
"You have little."
Samuel shrugged.
"Enough."
She studied him.
"You gave much yesterday."
"I had some."
"You knew I might be enemy."
Samuel leaned against the porch post.
"I didn't know."
"Would you have given water if you knew?"
He thought about it.
Then answered honestly.
"I hope so."