Then on the open box.
His face changed.
"You found it."
Cole's suspicion sharpened.
"Found what?"
Reed swallowed.
"The ledger."
Clara stepped forward.
"You knew about it."
Reed shook his head.
"Not everything."
"Then start talking."
The deputy closed the door.
"I was seventeen when your father found the evidence."
He looked at Cole.
"Your father trusted mine."
"What happened?"
"My father worked for Harlan."
Cole's jaw tightened.
"Then why are you here?"
"Because I found out what they did."
Reed reached inside his coat.
He pulled out an old badge.
Not his current badge.
An older one.
"That belonged to Deputy Marshal Price."
Cole looked at it.
"The man everyone said Jonah Bell killed?"
Reed nodded.
"He wasn't killed by Jonah."
Clara stepped closer.
"Who killed him?"
Reed looked toward the window.
"Three men."
"Who?"
"One was Harlan."
Cole felt his blood run cold.
"The second was my father."
Reed nodded.
"And the third?"
Reed hesitated.
Then he whispered:
"Samuel Mercer."
The room became silent.
Cole stared at him.
"My father?"
"He wasn't there to kill Price."
"Then why?"
"Because your father was trying to stop them."
Cole's voice dropped.
"What happened?"
"Price discovered the land records were forged. He confronted Harlan. Harlan shot him."
"And my father?"
"He arrived afterward."
Reed looked at Clara.
"Your father was there too."
"Jonah?"
"Yes."
"What happened to him?"
Reed's eyes lowered.
"They blamed him."
Cole closed his eyes.
Everything he had believed about his father was beginning to collapse.
But one question remained.
"If my father knew Jonah was innocent, why didn't he tell anyone?"
Reed answered quietly.
"Because Harlan had something that could destroy your family."
"What?"
"The original land records."
The next morning, Cole and Clara rode to the eastern valley.
Reed stayed behind.
He promised to search the county archives for anything connected to the original land transfer.
Cole was silent during the ride.
Clara eventually spoke.
"You don't have to defend your father."
"I know."
"You look like you want to."
"I want the truth."
"Even if it hurts?"
"Especially if it hurts."
They reached the river by noon.
The old Bell property had long since been absorbed into Harlan's holdings.
But Clara knew where her grandfather's house had stood.
Nothing remained except a stone foundation.
She dismounted.
"My mother brought me here once."
Cole looked around.
"When?"
"Before she died."
"What did she show you?"
"A tree."
Clara walked toward a large cottonwood.
She knelt.
"Here."
She dug into the dirt.
After several minutes, her fingers touched metal.
She pulled out a small tin container.
Inside was a key.
And a note.
Cole read it.
If Samuel fails, the key goes to the mill.
"The old mill?"
Clara nodded.
"The one Harlan owns?"
"Yes."
Cole looked toward the mountains.
"We're going there."
The mill stood three miles downstream.
Its machinery had been silent for years.
Harlan kept the building because the property was valuable.
They entered through a broken side door.
The place smelled of dust and oil.
Clara held up the key.
"There."
A small iron door sat behind the old machinery.
The key fit.
Inside was a narrow room.
On the wall hung several documents.
Cole approached.
His heart stopped.
They were land deeds.
Original deeds.
Signed and sealed.
And among them was the Bell family's deed.
It proved the eastern valley belonged to Clara's family.
But there was more.
A second document showed that Harlan had forged the county records.
Cole turned toward Clara.
"We have it."
"No."
She pointed.
"Look."
A final document contained a list of payments.