Then Salina turned back.
"Tell me what happened."
Eleanor explained.
The wounded stranger.
The water trough.
The arrow.
Creed's visit.
The hidden dispatch case.
Salina listened without interrupting.
When Eleanor finished, the woman's eyes glistened.
"You gave him shelter?"
"Yes."
"Even knowing who he was?"
Eleanor frowned.
"I knew he was wounded."
Salina stared at her.
"And that was enough?"
Eleanor felt suddenly tired.
"Lady, I've had a difficult two days. If you're planning to lecture me about helping your brother, you'll have to make it brief."
For one terrible moment, Salina's expression remained blank.
Then she laughed.
A deep, unexpected laugh.
The men behind her exchanged glances.
Salina lowered her rifle.
"You truly are the woman he described."
Eleanor blinked.
"He described me?"
"Before he lost consciousness, one of our scouts saw him moving toward your property. He said there was a widow there who refused to sell her water."
Eleanor stiffened.
"You knew about me?"
Salina nodded.
"Your husband once helped one of our families."
Eleanor stared.
"What?"
"Years ago, during a winter storm, he allowed a group of women and children to shelter in his barn."
Eleanor remembered.
A bitterly cold night.
Daniel had returned with several exhausted travelers.
She had prepared soup and blankets.
They had stayed until dawn.
She had never learned all their names.
Salina stepped closer.
"My aunt was among them."
Eleanor felt tears rise unexpectedly.
"Daniel never spoke of it as anything important."
"Perhaps not to him."
Salina's voice softened.
"But those children lived."
For a moment, the two women stood silently beneath the moon.
Then Salina looked toward the southern trail.
"We must move quickly."
Eleanor nodded.
"My horse is there."
Salina shook her head.
"You will return alone. If Creed is watching your ranch, we cannot arrive in a group."
"What will you do?"
"Bring a doctor."
"Doctor Mercer?"
"Yes."
Eleanor exhaled.
Salina touched her arm.
"And Eleanor?"
"Yes?"
"Do not let anyone inside your house tomorrow."
Eleanor's stomach tightened.
"Why?"
Salina looked toward the dark mountains.
"Because by sunrise, Harrow will know that his papers are missing."
She hesitated.
"And when he realizes where they are, he will not send only three men."
Eleanor rode home faster than she had intended.
When she reached the ranch, the windows were dark.
For one horrible moment, she feared something had happened.
Then she saw the faint glow of a lamp behind the kitchen curtain.
She dismounted.
Entered quietly.
Nantan was awake.
His eyes followed her.
"Well?"
"I found your sister."
His expression changed immediately.
"Salina?"
"Yes."
"She is alive?"
Eleanor stared.
"Of course."
Nantan closed his eyes.
A long breath escaped him.
Eleanor understood.
He had been afraid for her too.
"She said she's bringing Doctor Mercer."
Nantan nodded.
"Good."
"She also said Harrow knows about the missing papers."
His expression darkened.
"Then we have little time."
Eleanor knelt beside him.
"Tell me something."
"What?"
"Are those documents really worth all this?"
Nantan looked at her.
"Yes."
"What could possibly be so important?"
He hesitated.
Then said, "There is a list."
"A list?"
"Of properties to be taken. Wells to be destroyed. Families to be blamed for violence they did not commit."
Eleanor felt sick.
"Is my ranch on it?"
Nantan met her eyes.
"Yes."
Her pulse quickened.
"How?"
He swallowed.
"Beside the name Whitmore, there is a date."
Eleanor stared.
"What date?"
Nantan's voice lowered.
"Tomorrow."
The kitchen seemed to tilt.
Eleanor looked toward the calendar hanging near the door.
August 19.
Tomorrow was August 20.
She turned back.
"What happens tomorrow?"
Nantan's expression was grave.
"According to the papers, a fire will destroy your ranch shortly before dawn. Men disguised as Apache raiders will be seen leaving the property."
Eleanor could not move.
"And after?"
"The railroad will petition the territorial authorities for military protection. They will claim the area is too dangerous for independent settlement."
She stared at him.
"And the land?"
"Will be condemned or purchased through intermediaries."
Eleanor felt a terrible coldness settle in her chest.
Four years.
Four years of threats, missing cattle, sabotaged fences, and suspicious offers.
Now they intended to burn her home.
The place where she had married Daniel.
Where they had shared meals.
Where she had nursed him through fever.
Where she had spent countless evenings wondering how to survive without him.
She stood slowly.
Nantan watched her.
"Eleanor?"
She walked toward the mantelpiece.
Took down Daniel's photograph.
And held it in both hands.
For a long time, she stared at his face.
Then she whispered, "They killed him."
Nantan said nothing.
She turned.
"They killed my husband, didn't they?"
He hesitated.
"I do not know."
"But the papers might."
"Yes."
Eleanor closed her eyes.
For four years, she had wondered whether Daniel's death had truly been an accident.
She had forced herself to accept the sheriff's conclusion because there was nothing else she could prove.