Then she walked into the darkness.
She saddled her horse without lighting a lantern.
The animal seemed to understand the urgency.
Ayana mounted.
She looked back once.
The cabin was dark.
A thin line of smoke rose from the chimney.
She wanted to stay.
Every part of her wanted to stay.
But she believed leaving was the only way to save Jacob.
So she turned east.
And disappeared into the night.
An hour later, Jacob woke.
He knew something was wrong before opening his eyes.
The cabin was too quiet.
He looked toward the bedroom.
Empty.
He stood.
“Ayana?”
No answer.
He checked outside.
Her horse was gone.
He returned inside and found the note.
His hands shook as he unfolded it.
Forgive me.
Live well.
Jacob stared at the words.
Then something changed inside him.
Grief became anger.
Not anger at Ayana.
Anger at the men who had forced her to leave.
He grabbed his coat.
Then he noticed something on the floor near the door.
Mud.
Fresh mud.
Boot prints.
Not Ayana's.
Jacob crouched.
There were several.
At least four.
They entered from the eastern side of the cabin.
One man had stood directly outside the bedroom window.
Jacob's blood ran cold.
They had been here.
While he slept.
He ran to the stable.
Ayana's trail was visible in the damp earth.
But beside it were other tracks.
Horse tracks.
Fresh.
Six horses.
Jacob's eyes narrowed.
She hadn't escaped.
She had been followed.
He ran back for his rifle.
Then he stopped.
If he rode after her blindly, he might lead the men straight to her.
He needed to think.
He spread a rough map across the table.
Ayana had gone east.
The eastern trail led toward the old mining road.
Beyond that was a narrow pass.
Three possible routes.
One led to Fort Benton.
One led south.
One disappeared into the mountains.
Jacob studied the ground markings outside.
The six riders had split.
Two followed Ayana.
Four remained behind.
Why?
He looked toward the cabin.
Then he understood.
They had not come only for Ayana.
They were searching the ranch.
Searching for something.
Gold.
Jacob suddenly remembered something Ayana had said weeks earlier.
“My father told me the mountains remember.”
At the time, he had thought it was simply a saying.
Now he wondered.
He grabbed his saddlebag.
Then he noticed something else.
The wooden eagle.
Ayana had left it behind.
Jacob closed his fingers around it.
“No,” he whispered.
“You're not doing this alone.”
He saddled his fastest horse.
Before riding out, he looked toward the darkness.
“I'll find you.”
Then he spurred the horse into the mountains.
The first light of dawn had barely touched the eastern sky when Jacob found the first sign.
A piece of red cloth caught on a thorn bush.
Ayana's.
He dismounted.
He held it in his hand.
There was blood on the fabric.
Jacob's heart hammered.
He followed the trail.
Half a mile farther, he found an abandoned saddle.
Then a broken arrow.
Then blood.
But there was no body.
He breathed again.
She was alive.
At least she had been.
He followed the tracks into a narrow valley.
The trail suddenly split.
One set of hoofprints continued east.
Another turned north.
Jacob studied them.
He saw something unusual.
The eastern trail was too obvious.
Too clean.
The northern trail was almost invisible.
Someone had deliberately brushed branches across it.
Jacob smiled grimly.
“Ayana.”
She had been thinking ahead.
He followed the hidden trail.
Two miles later, he found her.
She was standing beside a rock wall with a rifle pointed at him.
Jacob stopped.
“Ayana.”
Her expression changed from suspicion to disbelief.
“What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you.”
“You shouldn't have followed me.”
“I know.”
“Go back.”
“No.”
“Jacob.”
“No.”
Her hands shook.
“They're coming.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“I found their tracks.”
“You don't understand.”
“I understand enough.”
She lowered the rifle.
“You could die.”
“So could you.”
“That isn't an argument.”
“It is when I'm talking to you.”
Ayana looked away.
Then she heard something.
Horses.
Jacob heard them too.
They were close.
Too close.
Ayana's face hardened.
“Six?”
Jacob listened.
“Four.”
She shook her head.
“Eight.”
He looked at her.
“You counted eight?”
“I know how they ride.”
Jacob smiled.
“Then we have eight problems.”
“No.”
She looked toward the mountain.
“We have nine.”
A ninth horse appeared beyond the ridge.
The rider was an older man with a gray beard.
He dismounted slowly.
Jacob raised his rifle.
The man lifted his hands.
“Jacob Carter?”
Jacob didn't lower the rifle.
“Who wants to know?”
“My name is Silas Boone.”
Ayana went pale.
Jacob looked at her.
“You know him?”
She nodded.
“He was with my father.”
Silas stepped forward.
“I knew your father,” he said.
Ayana's eyes narrowed.
“Where were you when they killed him?”
Silas lowered his head.
“I was running.”
“You left him.”
“I was ordered to.”
“By whom?”
Silas looked toward Jacob.
“The man who is coming for you now.”
“Who?”
Silas took a breath.
“Elias Vane.”
The name meant nothing to Jacob.
But Ayana knew it.
Her face went white.
“He's alive?”
Silas nodded.
“He never stopped looking.”
Jacob lowered his rifle slightly.
“What does he want?”
Silas looked at Ayana.
“The gold.”
“There is no gold.”
Silas's expression was grim.
“I know.”
Jacob frowned.
“Then why is he still searching?”
“Because he believes your ranch sits on top of the secret.”
Jacob stared at him.
“My ranch?”
Silas nodded.
“Your father bought this land from a dying prospector twenty years ago.”
“My father?”
“Yes.”
Jacob felt the world tilt.
“My father never told me.”
“He may not have known.”
Silas reached into his coat and removed a folded piece of paper.
He handed it to Ayana.
She opened it.
Her hands began to tremble.
Jacob looked over her shoulder.
It was an old map.
A mountain range.
A river.
A circle drawn around a valley.
At the bottom was a single symbol.
An eagle.
Ayana looked at Jacob.
“The same eagle.”
Jacob pulled the wooden carving from his pocket.
The symbol on the map matched it perfectly.
Neither spoke.
Then a gunshot exploded through the valley.
Silas dropped.
Jacob fired toward the ridge.
“Move!”
They ran.
Bullets struck the rocks around them.
Ayana grabbed Silas's arm.
“He's hit!”
Jacob fired again.
“Can you carry him?”
“Yes.”
“Then carry him.”
They disappeared behind the rock wall.
The gunfire continued.
Jacob looked at Ayana.
“What does the map mean?”
“I don't know.”
“You do.”
“No.”
“Ayana.”
She looked at him.
“I have seen that symbol before.”
“Where?”
“In my father's things.”
Jacob stared.
“Where are they?”
“Gone.”
“All of them?”
She hesitated.
“No.”
“What survived?”
“A small metal box.”
“Where?”