Two horses were injured.
One was dead.
Bob stood in the ashes.
Elena approached.
"I'm sorry."
Bob shook his head.
"This isn't your fault."
"They came because of me."
"They came because someone wanted to hurt you."
"And you."
Bob looked at her.
"Yes."
She touched his arm.
"You should let me leave."
"No."
"Why?"
"Because if they want you, running won't make them stop."
"They'll kill you."
"Maybe."
"You're not afraid?"
Bob looked at the burning barn.
"I am."
"Then why?"
He answered quietly:
"Because I'm tired of being afraid of losing things."
Elena stared at him.
That morning, she realized something.
Bob Miller was not fearless.
He simply believed some things were worth the risk.
Jonas Pike
Jonas Pike came to the ranch three days later.
He arrived with eight armed men.
Bob stood on the porch.
Pike dismounted.
He was a large man with a silver beard and expensive boots.
"Bob Miller."
"Pike."
Pike smiled.
"You've caused me trouble."
"I didn't ask for any."
"You bought Elena."
"I bought her freedom."
Pike laughed.
"Freedom?"
He looked toward Elena.
"That woman owes me."
"She owes you nothing."
Pike reached into his coat.
He produced a document.
"Her father's debt."
Bob read it.
The signature looked suspicious.
Elena stepped forward.
"My father never signed that."
Pike smiled.
"You were a child."
"I know his handwriting."
Bob examined it.
Then he noticed something.
A date.
The document claimed Miguel Cruz had signed it two weeks after his death.
Bob looked up.
Pike's smile vanished.
"You forged it."
Pike stepped forward.
"Careful."
Bob handed the paper back.
"You made a mistake."
"What mistake?"
"You forgot dead men can't sign."
Silence.
One of Pike's men laughed.
Pike shot him a look.
Bob continued:
"Leave."
Pike stared at him.
"You think you're some kind of hero?"
"No."
"You think five dollars gives you the right to interfere?"
Bob shook his head.
"No."
"Then why?"
Bob looked at Elena.
"Because she's a person."
Pike laughed bitterly.
"You'll lose everything."
Bob answered:
"Already did."
Pike stared at him.
For the first time, he understood.
Bob Miller could not be threatened with losing what he no longer feared losing.
Pike turned.
"This isn't finished."
Bob watched him leave.
Elena whispered:
"Thank you."
Bob nodded.
But neither of them noticed the man standing behind Pike.
The sheriff.
And the sheriff had heard everything.
A Letter From Red Creek
The sheriff came that evening.
His name was Amos Reed.
He had served Red Creek for eleven years.
He looked exhausted.
"I owe you an apology."
Bob invited him inside.
"Why?"
"I knew about Pike's operation."
Elena stiffened.
"What operation?"
Reed looked at her.
"The auction."
He told them everything.
Pike had been buying debts.
Then he would claim land.
If families resisted, he took their livestock.
Sometimes their homes.
And occasionally, women were forced into "labor contracts."
The auction block was part of it.
The law had looked away.
"Why are you telling us now?" Bob asked.
"Because Pike killed a man yesterday."
"Who?"
"A clerk."
"Why?"
"He found the original debt records."
Reed placed a letter on the table.
"He sent this to me before he died."
Bob opened it.
Inside were names.
Payments.
Land deeds.
Auction records.
And one name repeated several times.
Jonas Pike.
Elena looked at the pages.
"My father's name."
Bob read the date.
"Your father was investigating Pike."
Elena covered her mouth.
"He wasn't just fighting a debt."
"No," Reed said.
"He was trying to expose him."
Silence filled the room.
Then Bob looked at the sheriff.
"What do we do?"
Reed answered:
"Get these papers to the federal marshal in Austin."
"How?"
"Tomorrow morning."
Bob looked toward the window.
"How many men does Pike have?"
"Enough."
Bob nodded.
"Then we'll need to move tonight."
Elena stared at him.
"Where?"
"Somewhere he can't find us."
"Where?"
Bob looked at her.
"I know a road."
The Road Home
They left after midnight.
Bob.
Elena.
The sheriff.
And two horses.
The road north was narrow.