Nathan's stomach tightened.
“Who burned the wagons?”
Kress smiled.
“You know.”
“Say it.”
“Why?”
Nathan looked toward the darkness.
“Because Captain Dorsey is standing behind you.”
Kress's smile vanished.
Dorsey had followed with four soldiers.
The captain stepped forward.
“You are under arrest.”
Kress cursed.
Nathan looked toward the valley.
One part of Mercer's plan had failed.
But Mercer himself was still free.
And sunrise would bring more than light.
It would bring settlers, soldiers, rumors, and enough fear to ignite the territory.
They needed the truth faster than Mercer could replace it.
Captain Reed arrived the following afternoon.
He came with only six soldiers.
That decision immediately impressed Nathan.
Reed was fifty-eight, thin, sun-darkened and missing the tip of one finger on his left hand.
He examined Mercer's letters for almost an hour.
Then he questioned Kress separately.
When he finished, he looked at Nathan.
“You believe Dosela will speak with me?”
“If you go without eighty soldiers.”
Reed nodded.
“That's why I brought six.”
Nathan looked at him.
“I was thinking two.”
Reed almost smiled.
“Let's negotiate the negotiation.”
Eventually they settled on Reed, Nathan, and one unarmed interpreter.
Dosela met them halfway between the Army camp and the valley.
Taza stood beside him.
Alaya too.
Nathan felt an unexpected relief seeing her.
She noticed.
“You came back.”
“I said I would.”
“You said you had not finished complaining.”
“That too.”
Captain Reed and Dosela spoke for nearly an hour.
Not as friends.
Not even as men who trusted each other.
As two people who understood what would happen if they failed.
Reed agreed to review the evidence and postpone military action.
Dosela agreed to keep his people east of Red Willow while the investigation proceeded.
Then Reed revealed something worse.
“Mercer has gone to San Rosario.”
Nathan frowned.
“Why?”
“He's telling settlers Dosela abducted Alaya's escort.”
Alaya looked confused.
“My escort?”
Nathan understood.
“Me.”
Reed nodded.
“He claims you were hired by Broken Mesa Ranch, ambushed, and likely killed.”
Nathan stared.
Thomas Hale.
If Thomas believed Nathan dead, he might join armed settlers searching for revenge.
“How many men?”
“Last report? Forty.”
Dosela's face hardened.
Taza spoke angrily.
Alaya translated.
“He says if forty armed settlers ride here, his people will defend themselves.”
Reed looked at Nathan.
“We need to stop them.”
Nathan nodded.
“I'll go.”
Alaya said, “I come.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Dosela watched them.
Nathan pointed toward her.
“If settlers see Dosela's daughter riding beside me, half of them may panic.”
“If they see you alone, Mercer will say you were forced to lie.”
That was a good argument.
Nathan hated it.
Reed said, “She's right.”
Nathan looked at him.
“You're not helping.”
They rode toward San Rosario that evening.
Nathan, Alaya, Reed and two soldiers.
Before they left, Dosela called Nathan aside.
“You stood before my people at river.”
Nathan nodded.
“My father told me Benjamin Cole did same.”
“Apparently foolishness runs in the family.”
Dosela did not smile.
“My daughter trusts you.”
Nathan glanced toward Alaya.
“She trusts herself.”
“That is not answer.”
Nathan sighed.
“What would you like me to say?”
Dosela's gaze became sharp.
“That you bring her back.”
Nathan understood the weight.
“I'll do everything I can.”
“No.”
Dosela stepped closer.
“Your father once told me promises must be about what a man controls.”
Nathan remembered similar words.
Dosela continued.
“You cannot promise she lives.”
Nathan waited.
“You promise you do not abandon her.”
Nathan met his eyes.
“That I can promise.”
Dosela extended his hand.
Nathan took it.
They reached the outskirts of San Rosario near midnight.
A dozen armed men were gathered outside the saloon.
Thomas Hale stood among them.
When he saw Nathan, his face went white.
“You're alive.”
“Disappointed?”
Thomas crossed the street and punched him in the chest.
“You idiot.”
Nathan hugged him.
Thomas froze.
Then hugged back.
“I thought they killed you.”
Nathan stepped aside.
Alaya was behind him.
Thomas stared.
“She saved my life,” Nathan said.
Alaya raised an eyebrow.
Nathan lowered his voice.
“At least once.”
“Twice.”
“We'll argue later.”
A voice came from the saloon doorway.
“This is exactly what I warned you about.”
Silas Mercer.
He was a handsome man of forty-six with a black coat, expensive boots and carefully trimmed mustache.
He stepped into the lantern light.
“Cole's been compromised.”
Nathan laughed.
“Compromised?”
Mercer looked toward the settlers.
“He disappears into Apache territory and returns beside the chief's daughter with federal soldiers. Ask yourselves why.”
Reed spoke.
“Because I asked him to.”
Mercer's face tightened.
“Captain.”
“Mr. Mercer.”
Reed dismounted.
“We need to speak.”
Mercer glanced at the two soldiers.
“About?”
“Freight wagons.”
“Terrible business.”
“Indeed.”
Reed removed a folded letter.
“Especially interesting that Daniel Kress says you paid him to burn them.”
The crowd changed.
Whispers.
Mercer laughed.
“Kress is a criminal.”
“Yes.”
“Then why believe him?”
“We don't.”
Reed held up the letter.
“We also have records.”
Mercer's eyes moved toward Alaya's pouch.
Nathan saw calculation.
Mercer had not expected the documents to survive.
Thomas stepped forward.
“You told us Dosela's men killed Nathan.”
“I said likely.”
“You said you saw blood near the crossing.”
“There was blood.”
“From Alaya's horse,” Nathan said.
Mercer looked at him.
“Can you prove it?”
Nathan smiled.
“You've spent a lot of time asking the wrong question.”
Mercer frowned.
Nathan continued.
“It isn't whether I can prove every lie.”
Reed stepped closer.
“It's whether you can explain your signature on payments to Kress.”
Mercer's confidence cracked.
Only slightly.
But the armed settlers saw it.
Then a window shattered.
A shot exploded.
One of Reed's soldiers fell.
Chaos.
Men drew weapons.
Alaya dropped behind a water trough.
Nathan turned toward the rooftop.
A rifleman.
Mercer ran.
“There!” Nathan shouted.
Thomas fired toward the roof.
The hidden gunman ducked.
Nathan chased Mercer through an alley.
Mercer mounted a horse waiting behind the saloon.
Of course he had planned an escape.
Nathan grabbed Jasper's reins.
Alaya appeared beside him on another horse.
“No.”
She mounted.
“Stop wasting breath.”
They chased Mercer into the desert.
Behind them, San Rosario bells rang.
Ahead, Mercer rode toward the one place Nathan least wanted him to go.
Red Willow.
“He wants the river,” Alaya shouted.
“Why?”
Then Nathan understood.
“He wants your father.”
Mercer no longer needed rumors.
If he could shoot Dosela himself—or be killed by Apache riders while settlers followed—
The result might still be war.
Nathan pushed Jasper faster.
The final part of Mercer's plan was no longer about profit.
It was about survival.
And desperate men often became more dangerous after their clever plans failed.
They rode through the night.
Mercer had a faster horse.
Nathan knew they would not catch him before Red Willow.
So he tried to predict him instead.
“He won't use the main crossing,” Nathan said.
Alaya rode beside him.
“Why?”
“Dosela will have scouts there.”
“South?”
Nathan nodded.
“There's an old mining ford.”
“You know it?”
“I used it four years ago.”
They turned south.
The trail narrowed through rocky country.
Before dawn, they saw Mercer's tracks.
Alaya smiled.
“You guessed correctly.”
“Please sound more surprised.”
“I am trying.”
They reached the old ford as the sky began turning gray.
Mercer's horse stood abandoned near the bank.
Nathan dismounted.
“On foot.”
They crossed carefully.
Unlike the flooded northern crossing, the water here barely reached their knees.
On the eastern side, Nathan found boot prints heading toward a ridge overlooking Dosela's valley.
His stomach tightened.
“He's going high.”
They climbed.
Sunrise began coloring the cliffs.
Below them, Dosela's camp stirred.
Smoke rose from morning fires.
Children moved between shelters.
Riders checked horses.
And on the western plain, another group approached.
Settlers from San Rosario.
Thomas had apparently followed.
Nathan counted perhaps twenty.
Reed too.
The confrontation Mercer wanted was forming again.
Alaya whispered, “There.”
Mercer lay behind a boulder fifty yards above them.
Rifle positioned.
Aimed downhill.
At Dosela.
Nathan drew his revolver.
Alaya caught his wrist.
“What?”
“If you shoot and miss, he fires.”
“I wasn't planning to miss.”
“He may still fire.”
Nathan hated that she was right.
They needed closer.
They moved between rocks.
Thirty yards.
Twenty.
Mercer heard gravel.
He turned.
The rifle snapped toward them.
“Stop.”
Nathan froze.
Alaya stood beside him.
Mercer smiled.
“Both of you.”
His face was exhausted now.
Dust-covered.
No polished businessman.
Just a frightened man with a rifle.
“You've caused me considerable trouble,” he said.