"What part?"
"My father kept records."
"Of what?"
"Land agreements."
She took a breath.
"Trade."
Another breath.
"Promises made between our people and outsiders."
Ethan frowned.
"That can destroy Chaska?"
"No."
Her voice darkened.
"But the letter inside can."
"What letter?"
"The one he wrote the night before he died."
Ethan's stomach tightened.
"What does it say?"
"I never read it."
"Then how do you know it exists?"
"I watched him lock it inside the chest."
"When?"
"The last night I saw him alive."
Ethan looked at her.
"How old were you?"
"Sixteen."
The answer came quietly.
"Sixteen."
Nohimana looked toward the dark canyon.
"I remember that night better than any other."
Her voice changed.
"He told me not to worry."
"What did you think was happening?"
"I thought he was going to a council meeting."
She closed her eyes.
"He told me that sometimes a leader had to keep something hidden until the right moment."
Ethan remained silent.
"He gave me the pocket watch."
"Why?"
"I didn't understand."
She touched it.
"He told me that if he did not return, I should never give it to Chaska."
Ethan's eyes narrowed.
"Why Chaska?"
"Because he said Chaska would ask for it."
"And did he?"
"Before sunrise."
They rode in silence.
Then Nohimana whispered:
"I should have known."
"You were sixteen."
"I should have known."
"You were a daughter."
She looked back at him.
"And you?"
"What?"
"If you had known someone was coming for your family, would you have stopped them?"
Ethan stared into the darkness.
"I don't know."
She looked forward again.
"Neither did I."
They reached the mouth of the cave.
Nohimana dismounted.
Ethan followed.
The opening was narrow and almost invisible beneath the shadow of the cliff.
Inside, the air was cold.
The deeper they went, the quieter the outside world became.
Nohimana led him downward.
The passage twisted between walls of stone.
Finally they reached a larger chamber.
At the rear stood a stone burial platform.
Beside it sat an old iron-bound wooden chest.
Ethan stopped.
"So this is it."
Nohimana knelt.
There was no ordinary lock.
Only a circular metal plate.
She took the pocket watch.
Pressed it against the plate.
Click.
A mechanism moved inside.
Ethan stared.
"The watch is the key."
"Yes."
She lifted the lid.
The chest opened.
Inside were folded documents.
A leather journal.
An old photograph.
Several small metal tokens.
And one sealed envelope.
Nohimana reached for it.
Her hands trembled.
Written across the front were four words.
TO MY DAUGHTER.
She swallowed.
Then opened it.
The paper was old.
The ink had faded.
But the handwriting was unmistakable.
She read the first lines silently.
Her expression changed.
Ethan watched.
"What?"
No answer.
"Nohimana."
She looked up.
Tears filled her eyes.
"My father knew he was going to die."
Ethan crouched beside her.
"What does it say?"
She handed him the letter.
He read.
The words were simple.
If I do not return, Chaska did not act alone.
Ethan looked at her.
"There was someone else."
She nodded.
She opened the journal.
Names filled the pages.
Dates.
Payments.
Meetings.
Locations.
Agreements.
Ethan turned page after page.
One name appeared repeatedly.
Chief Chaska.
But another appeared beside his.
Ethan read it aloud.
"Colonel Silas Graves."
Nohimana's expression changed.
"You know him?"
Ethan didn't answer.
He stared at the name.
Then whispered:
"He sold me my ranch."
Silence.
Nohimana looked at him.
"What?"
"Three years ago."
She stared.
"He arranged the deed himself."
She looked down at the journal.
Then back at Ethan.
"That cannot be coincidence."
"No."
He turned another page.
The same name appeared.
Graves.
Again.
And again.
The journal described land transactions stretching from the tribal territory to settlements farther west.
Some were legal.
Some were questionable.
Some were plainly fraudulent.
Ethan felt something cold settle in his chest.
His ranch.
His deed.
His father's name.
Graves.
Everything seemed to connect.
Nohimana turned to the final pages.
There was a map.
She spread it across the stone floor.
Ethan crouched beside her.
Several areas were marked in red.
One was the tribal valley.
Another was Ethan's ranch.
A third was an old military road.
A fourth was a stretch of land no settler seemed to own.
Ethan traced the markings.
"What is this?"
"My father called it the River Crown."
"Why?"
"Because whoever controlled it controlled the water routes."
Ethan looked at the map.
"The river runs through my ranch."
Nohimana nodded.
"That is why Graves wanted it."
"But why?"
She pointed toward the journal.
"Read the entry dated three days before my father's death."
Ethan did.
His face hardened.
The entry described a proposed agreement.
Graves wanted access to the valley.
He promised money.
Weapons.
Protection.
In return, Chaska would support a land transfer.
But Red Hawk had refused.
Ethan looked at Nohimana.
"Your father stopped them."
"Yes."
"And they killed him."
Nohimana shook her head.
"Chaska betrayed him."
"But Graves pulled the trigger?"
"I don't know."
The voice came from behind them.
"Yes."
Ethan and Nohimana spun.
Chief Chaska stood in the cave entrance.
Behind him were armed warriors.
But the Chief was not smiling.
He looked terrified.
Not angry.
Terrified.
Ethan raised his revolver.
"Stay back."
Chaska ignored him.
His eyes remained fixed on the open chest.
"You opened it."
Nohimana stood.
"You killed my father."
"No."
"You lied about him."
"Yes."
"You stole his position."
"Yes."
Her face twisted with fury.
"And you expect me to believe you didn't kill him?"
Chaska's voice became quiet.
"I betrayed your father."
A long pause.
"But I did not murder him."
Nohimana stared.
"Then who did?"
The Chief looked toward the journal.
Then at Ethan.
"Colonel Graves."
Ethan felt cold.
Chaska continued.
"And if that chest is open..."
He looked toward the cave entrance.
"...he already knows."
A distant rifle shot echoed through the canyon.
Then another.
Chaska's face drained of color.
"We are too late."
Outside, dozens of horses thundered through the darkness.
Ethan looked at Nohimana.
"How did he know?"
She stared at the open chest.
"The key."
Ethan understood.
"The watch?"
"No."
She pointed to the circular metal plate.
"The mechanism."
Her father had not merely hidden the chest.
He had designed it to reveal itself only when someone used the watch.
And someone else must have known.
Someone had been watching.
Someone had been waiting.
Graves.
Ethan moved toward the cave entrance.
Chaska raised a hand.
"Don't."
Ethan looked back.
"Why?"
"Because they are not here for me."
Nohimana stepped forward.
"They are here for the chest."
Chaska nodded.
"And for you."
She stared.
"Why me?"
"Because your father left the final proof with you."
"I never had it."
Chaska pointed toward the letter.
"You do now."
Another gunshot echoed outside.
This one was closer.
Ethan extinguished the lantern.
Darkness swallowed the chamber.
Everyone became still.
Then came voices.
Men shouting.
Horses snorting.
Boots striking stone.
A man's voice carried from the entrance.
"Search the cave."
Ethan recognized it.
He had heard it before.
Colonel Silas Graves.
A voice that had once sounded trustworthy.
A voice that had once spoken to Ethan across a desk while sliding a land deed toward him.
A voice that had told him he was making the smartest decision of his life.
Ethan's grip tightened around his revolver.
Nohimana whispered:
"That's him."
"I know."
Chaska looked at Ethan.
"You understand now."
"Understand what?"
"Why your ranch was sold to you."
Ethan stared at him.
Chaska lowered his voice.
"Your land was never the prize."
Ethan's blood ran cold.
"What was?"