“Back way.”
They ran through the cellar.
A second gunshot struck the stone wall.
They found a narrow passage behind the shelves.
The tunnel led outside through a hidden opening beneath the hill.
They crawled through mud and emerged behind the chapel.
Three men searched the building.
Thomas recognized one.
Deputy Caleb Moss.
His own deputy.
“Get down,” Thomas whispered.
Evelyn stared at him.
“Your deputy?”
Thomas nodded.
His face was grim.
“Don't move.”
They watched Caleb leave the chapel with the other two men.
One of them said:
“The mayor will want her dead.”
Evelyn's expression changed.
Thomas waited until the men disappeared.
Then he turned toward her.
“You need to leave.”
“No.”
“Evelyn—”
“No.”
“They know you're alive.”
“That means they know I'm close.”
Thomas studied her.
“You came here expecting this.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Evelyn took a long breath.
“Because sixteen years ago, I survived.”
Thomas frowned.
She removed the veil.
For the first time, he saw her face clearly.
The scar beneath her eye was deeper than he had realized.
“I was there the night Jonathan disappeared.”
“What happened?”
“We were leaving town.”
Jonathan had arranged for them to meet Daniel Cross outside Mercy Hollow.
But someone followed them.
Three riders.
Jonathan told Evelyn to run.
She refused.
Then a gunshot rang out.
Jonathan fell.
Evelyn screamed.
Someone struck her.
She remembered hitting the ground.
She remembered blood.
And then fire.
“When I woke up,” she said, “the wagon was burning.”
Thomas stared.
“Your brother?”
“Gone.”
“Did you see who shot him?”
“No.”
“But you saw someone.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Evelyn looked toward the distant lights of Mercy Hollow.
“Mayor Whitcomb.”
They returned to town after midnight.
Thomas took Evelyn to an abandoned cabin outside Mercy Hollow.
“You'll stay here.”
“No.”
“It's the safest place I know.”
She looked at him.
“Why help me?”
Thomas hesitated.
“Because I became sheriff eight years after your brother disappeared.”
“And?”
“And I've spent nine years believing Mercy Hollow had no secrets.”
He looked away.
“I was wrong.”
That night, neither slept.
At dawn, a rider arrived.
It was Mrs. Shaw.
She looked frightened.
“Your boarding house was searched.”
Evelyn stood.
“Who?”
“Deputy Moss.”
“Did they find anything?”
“No.”
Mrs. Shaw swallowed.
“They found this.”
She handed Evelyn a small envelope.
Evelyn opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
A man standing beside a river.
The man was older.
Gray hair.
A scar across his jaw.
But Evelyn knew him.
Her knees nearly failed.
“Jonathan.”
Thomas grabbed the photograph.
“When was this taken?”
“Yesterday,” Mrs. Shaw said.
Silence filled the cabin.
Evelyn whispered:
“He's alive.”
They found Jonathan at an abandoned ranch thirty miles north.
He was sitting beside a cold fireplace.
His face was older.
His left hand was missing two fingers.
But when Evelyn entered, he stood.
For several seconds, neither moved.
Then Evelyn ran to him.
Jonathan caught her.
She buried her face against his chest.
“You're alive.”
“So are you.”
“I thought you were dead.”
“I thought you were dead.”
They held each other like children who had somehow survived the same nightmare from opposite sides.
Thomas stepped outside.
He gave them privacy.
When Jonathan finally emerged, he looked exhausted.
“Whitcomb knows everything.”
Thomas nodded.
“Tell me what happened.”
Jonathan stared toward the mountains.
“We discovered Whitcomb was stealing land through forged debts.”
“Who helped him?”
“Sheriff Bell. The county clerk. Three ranch owners. And the bank.”
Thomas stiffened.
“The bank?”
Jonathan nodded.
“They created fake debts. If someone couldn't pay, their land was seized.”
“And if they resisted?”
“They disappeared.”
“What about Clara Bell?”
Jonathan's expression darkened.
“She discovered her father was involved.”
“So he killed his own daughter?”
“No.”
Jonathan looked at Evelyn.
“She escaped.”
Evelyn's eyes widened.
“Clara is alive?”
“She has been hiding for sixteen years.”
“Where?”
Jonathan shook his head.
“She won't come out until the ledger is made public.”
Thomas looked at the photograph.
“Then we need to find her.”
Jonathan's voice was quiet.
“You don't understand.”
“What?”
“Clara isn't the only one waiting.”
He pointed toward Mercy Hollow.
“Tomorrow night, Whitcomb plans to burn the courthouse.”
Thomas stared.
“All the records.”
Jonathan nodded.
“And once they're gone, he'll erase the past forever.”
THE NIGHT MERCY HOLLOW BURNED
The fire began just after midnight.
Flames erupted from the courthouse windows.
Smoke rolled into the streets.
People screamed.
Men ran for buckets.
Women carried children from their houses.
Thomas Reed rode through town shouting orders.
“Form a line!”
“Get the horses away!”