"How?"
Salina looked toward the settlement.
"There is a man who may help."
"Who?"
"A former military officer named Benjamin Vale."
Eleanor frowned.
"I've heard that name."
"He served as an investigator before resigning after a dispute with his commanding officer."
"Where is he?"
"In Tucson."
Eleanor shook her head.
"That's dangerous. Harrow has friends there."
"Yes."
"Then how can we trust Vale?"
Salina's expression became serious.
"Because he has been searching for the same evidence."
Eleanor stared.
"What?"
"Two months ago, a military supply wagon disappeared near Black Horse Canyon. Harrow's men blamed Apache raiders."
She paused.
"But the wagon was never attacked by our people."
Eleanor listened.
"Vale believed the official report was false. He began investigating the railroad's private guards."
"And?"
"He discovered that supplies were being diverted to armed men working outside military authority."
Eleanor frowned.
"Why would Harrow want military supplies?"
"Because he is not merely trying to buy land."
Salina looked toward the dark mountains.
"He is building a private army."
The following morning, Eleanor met Benjamin Vale.
He arrived shortly after sunrise with two companions.
Vale was in his early forties, lean and serious, with brown hair beginning to gray at the temples.
A scar ran along his right hand.
He wore ordinary traveling clothes rather than a military uniform.
His companions remained outside the settlement.
Vale entered alone.
Tomas greeted him with restrained courtesy.
Eleanor watched carefully.
The former officer did not behave like a man expecting obedience.
He removed his hat.
Asked permission before sitting.
And waited until the community leaders had finished speaking.
Only then did he introduce himself.
"Benjamin Vale."
"Eleanor Whitmore."
He studied her.
"I knew your husband."
She stiffened.
"You did?"
"Not well. I met him twice in Tucson. He asked questions about irregular land surveys."
Eleanor swallowed.
"He was investigating Harrow."
"Yes."
"Did he tell you what he'd found?"
Vale hesitated.
"Not enough."
He looked down.
"I should have taken him more seriously."
Eleanor studied his face.
For the first time, she recognized genuine regret.
Not the theatrical sympathy she had received from men like Harrow.
But the quiet discomfort of someone who knew he had failed to act.
"What happened?" she asked.
Vale drew a breath.
"Your husband came to me with copied records. I advised him to file a complaint through the territorial land office."
Eleanor shook her head.
"That office was involved."
"I know that now."
"He died two days later."
Vale lowered his gaze.
"Yes."
A silence followed.
Then Eleanor asked, "Why are you helping us?"
Vale looked up.
"Because Daniel Whitmore wasn't the last man to die after asking the wrong questions."
He opened his leather case.
Inside were additional documents.
Statements from two railroad employees.
Copies of missing military supply orders.
A list of payments to private guards.
And a photograph of three men standing beside a freight wagon.
Eleanor leaned forward.
She recognized one immediately.
Silas Creed.
Beside him stood Victor Harrow.
The third man wore a military uniform.
Eleanor pointed.
"Who's that?"
Vale's expression darkened.
"Major Charles Fenwick."
Tomas spoke quietly.
The name caused several people nearby to exchange uneasy looks.
Vale continued.
"Fenwick supervises military transport contracts in this district. He has access to supplies, patrol schedules, and communications."
Eleanor stared at the photograph.
"And he's working with Harrow?"
"We believe so."
"What does he gain?"
"Money. Land. Influence."
Vale spread a map across the table.
"Look here."
He pointed to a proposed railway extension.
The line passed through several valleys.
Including Willow Creek.
And the mountains where Tomas's families lived.
Harrow's company had filed applications for exclusive transportation and mineral development rights along the route.
But the proposed line required control over existing water sources.
Without them, the company could not support construction crews, livestock transport, or future settlements.
Eleanor understood immediately.
"My ranch."
Vale nodded.
"Your well is one of the most reliable sources in the district."
"And these mountains?"
"Several springs here are also strategically important."
Tomas studied the map.
"Our families have used them for generations."
Vale nodded.
"That doesn't mean the railroad's claims are lawful. But if they can manufacture a crisis, they may persuade officials to authorize emergency measures before anyone can challenge the surveys."
Salina crossed her arms.
"Which is why they want violence."
Vale looked at her.
"Exactly."
Eleanor stared at the map.
The scale of the conspiracy frightened her.
It was no longer about one ranch.
Or one murdered man.
Harrow was attempting to control an entire region by creating the conditions under which people would be forced to leave.
"And the attacks?" she asked.
Vale pointed to a series of marked locations.
"One planned for your ranch. Another near the southern freight crossing. A third at a water station used by several local families."
Eleanor looked up.
"When?"
Vale hesitated.
"Within the next ten days."
Silence fell over the gathering.
Then Tomas spoke.
"If these attacks happen, soldiers will come."
Vale nodded.
"And Fenwick may direct their response."
Salina's expression hardened.
"Then they will be told whom to blame."
"Yes."
Eleanor looked around the table.
For the first time, she understood why Nantan had risked his life to steal the dispatch case.
The papers were not merely evidence of corruption.
They were a warning.
A chance to prevent bloodshed.
She placed her hands on the table.
"Then we have ten days to stop them."
Vale studied her.
"Mrs. Whitmore, this will not be easy."
Eleanor met his gaze.
"Nothing worth protecting has been easy since I came to this territory."
He smiled faintly.
"Your husband said something similar."
She looked down.
For a moment, grief threatened to overwhelm her.
Then she straightened.