Cole looked at her.
"You said that before."
"I meant it."
A knock sounded on the door.
Abigail raised her shotgun.
"Who is it?"
"Silas Rourke."
"I don't know you."
"You do."
Abigail's expression changed.
Cole saw it.
Fear.
Real fear.
Rourke spoke again.
"Give us Nora Bell."
Abigail looked at Nora.
Then at Cole.
Cole stepped toward the door.
"Go away."
Rourke laughed.
"Who are you?"
"Cole Walker."
The laughter stopped.
"Walker?"
Cole said nothing.
Rourke's voice became quieter.
"I've heard of you."
Cole looked through the window.
"So have I."
A pause.
Then Rourke said:
"You should have kept riding."
Cole answered:
"I've made worse mistakes."
Rourke smiled.
"We'll see."
The riders turned and left.
Nora looked at Cole.
"You don't understand."
"No."
Cole holstered his pistol.
"But I'm starting to."
The Name on the Grave
That afternoon, Nora told Cole the truth.
Or most of it.
They sat on the porch behind Abigail's house while the sun sank over the valley.
"My father was a judge," Nora said.
Cole said nothing.
"He was respected in three counties."
"Until?"
"Until he tried to stop Silas Rourke."
Cole leaned back.
"What did Rourke do?"
"He owned half the cattle in this part of the territory. The other half belonged to men who worked for him."
"That's not a crime."
"No."
Nora looked toward the hills.
"But stealing land is."
Cole's eyes narrowed.
"Whose land?"
"Settlers'. Ranchers'. Anyone who couldn't defend themselves."
"Your father tried to stop him?"
"He discovered Rourke had been using forged land deeds."
Cole looked at her.
"How many?"
"Forty-three."
He whistled softly.
"And your father?"
"Dead."
"How?"
"Shot on the courthouse steps."
Cole stared into the distance.
"When?"
"Six months ago."
"And you waited six months to leave?"
Nora shook her head.
"We didn't leave."
Cole looked at Evelyn and Clara through the window.
"We were gathering evidence."
"For what?"
"To prove Rourke murdered my father."
Cole frowned.
"To whom?"
"The federal marshal."
"Where is he?"
"Dead."
Cole's jaw tightened.
Nora continued.
"Everyone who has tried to help us has either disappeared or changed their mind."
Cole looked at her.
"So what's different now?"
She smiled sadly.
"You're the first man who didn't ask how much money we had."
Cole laughed quietly.
"I don't want your money."
"Then what do you want?"
Cole looked at the setting sun.
"Peace."
Nora smiled.
"Then you're helping the wrong women."
Cole didn't answer.
That night, he visited the cemetery.
He had a habit of visiting graves in towns where he passed through.
Not because he enjoyed mourning.
Because graves were honest.
They didn't pretend.
Judge Elias Bell's grave stood beneath an old cottonwood tree.
Cole removed his hat.
A sound came from behind him.
"You knew my father."
Cole turned.
Nora stood there.
"No."
"Then why are you here?"
Cole looked at the grave.
"Because a man was killed."
"That's not an answer."
"No."
He put his hat back on.
"It isn't."
Nora stepped closer.
"My father believed people were worth saving."
Cole looked at her.
"And you?"
She hesitated.
"I used to."
Cole understood.
They walked back toward town together.
Halfway there, they heard gunfire.
Three shots.
Then silence.
They ran.
A horse lay dead near the widow's house.
The front door hung open.
Cole drew his pistol.
"Nora, stay behind me."
This time she didn't argue.
They entered.
The house was empty.
Abigail was gone.
Clara was gone.
Evelyn was gone.
Only blood remained on the floor.
Nora covered her mouth.
Cole crouched near the blood.
He touched it.
Still warm.
He stood.
"How long?"
"Minutes."
He looked at the open window.
Then he saw something.
A piece of black cloth caught on the frame.
He pulled it free.
On the cloth was a silver thread.
Nora recognized it.
"Rourke."
Cole nodded.
Then he heard a horse outside.
He ran through the back door.
A rider disappeared into the darkness.
Cole fired once.
The rider kept going.
Nora came outside.
"Did you get him?"
"No."
She stared at the road.
"They have Evelyn and Clara."
Cole looked at her.
"And Abigail."
Nora's voice broke.
"What are we going to do?"
Cole mounted his horse.
"We're going after them."
"Just us?"
Cole looked toward the dark hills.
"For now."
Nora climbed onto her horse.
Then she looked at him.
"You still want peace?"
Cole pulled his hat lower.
"Starting to think I can settle for justice."
The Broken Bridge
They followed the trail west.
The moon was nearly gone when they reached the creek.
Cole dismounted and studied the mud.
"Four horses."
Nora looked around.
"How can you tell?"
"Three prisoners. Four riders."
"How do you know?"
"Because one of the horses is carrying extra weight."
She stared at him.
"How do you notice things like that?"
Cole tightened his saddle.
"You learn when people spend their lives trying to kill you."
Nora looked away.
"Who tried to kill you?"
"People I trusted."
That was all he said.
They continued.
At dawn, they found the first outlaw.
He lay beneath a tree with an arrow in his shoulder.
Nora raised her pistol.
Cole stopped her.
"Wait."
The man was barely conscious.
"Where are the women?" Cole asked.
The outlaw laughed weakly.
"You think Rourke wants them?"
"Where are they?"
"He wants the book."
"What book?"
The man smiled.
"The judge's ledger."