Men had been seen near the ridge.
The valley had been declared undesirable.
Then Rourke's men had offered to buy the land.
The women had refused.
Now the water had returned.
Caleb stepped back.
"That's enough to make a case."
Awan asked:
"And if he doesn't care?"
Caleb looked at the northern ridge.
"Then we make him care."
The first riders appeared shortly after.
Four horses.
Four men.
And behind them came a fifth rider.
Silas Rourke.
Caleb knew him immediately.
He was not what Caleb expected.
Rourke wasn't enormous.
He wasn't covered in weapons.
He wasn't dressed like a gunfighter.
He wore a clean black coat despite the dust.
His boots were polished.
His hat was expensive.
His beard was trimmed.
Everything about him looked controlled.
That was what Caleb disliked most.
Rourke rode into the valley as though he already owned it.
He stopped near the spring.
His eyes went immediately to the new well.
For one brief moment, anger flashed across his face.
Then it vanished.
He smiled.
"Well."
Awan stepped forward.
"Rourke."
Rourke nodded.
"Chief."
Caleb remained several feet away.
Rourke noticed him.
"And you must be the man who dug this."
Caleb nodded.
"Caleb Mercer."
"I've heard of you."
Caleb raised an eyebrow.
"You have?"
"No."
Caleb almost smiled.
Rourke laughed.
"I like you."
"I don't."
One of Rourke's men shifted.
Rourke raised a hand.
"That's fine."
He dismounted.
Walked toward the well.
Looked down.
"How much?"
"Enough."
"Enough for what?"
"The people here."
Rourke nodded.
"That's the problem."
Caleb's expression hardened.
Rourke turned toward Awan.
"I came to offer a fair solution."
Awan said nothing.
Rourke continued:
"I'll buy the valley."
"No."
"You haven't heard the price."
"I don't need to."
Rourke smiled.
"Everyone has a price."
Caleb interrupted.
"Not everyone."
Rourke looked at him.
"You're very certain."
"About some things."
Rourke stepped closer.
"You don't belong here."
"Neither do you."
The air changed.
Rourke's smile disappeared.
He looked at Caleb for several seconds.
Then he laughed softly.
"You've made a mistake."
"What?"
"You think this is about water."
Caleb said nothing.
Rourke leaned closer.
"This valley sits over something valuable."
"Gold?"
"No."
Rourke looked toward the ground.
"Something much more valuable."
Caleb understood.
Water.
Rourke mounted.
Before leaving, he looked at the twenty-two women.
Then at the children.
Then at the spring.
"I'll give you three days."
Awan asked:
"For what?"
"To leave."
Caleb stepped forward.
"And if they don't?"
Rourke looked at him.
"Then we stop talking about buying."
He turned his horse.
As the riders disappeared, Awan looked at Caleb.
"What does that mean?"
Caleb watched the dust settle.
"It means the next time he comes, he won't bring an offer."
He looked toward the women.
"He'll bring a weapon."
That night, nobody slept comfortably.
The camp had water.
But now everyone understood its true value.
Caleb sat beside the spring.
He listened to the water.
Behind him, footsteps approached.
Awan sat down.
"You could leave."
Caleb nodded.
"I could."
"Why don't you?"
Caleb looked at the water.
"I don't know."
Awan smiled.
"You do."
Caleb sighed.
"Maybe."
"What changed?"
Caleb thought about his father's words.
Water doesn't always announce itself.
Sometimes you have to dig.
Sometimes you have to keep digging when everyone else says there is nothing beneath your feet.
Caleb looked at the dark valley.
"I think I'm tired of riding away."
Awan said nothing.
For the first time in years, Caleb wondered what it would feel like to stay somewhere long enough for someone to expect him tomorrow.
He didn't know yet.
But he suspected he was about to find out.
Caleb Mercer woke before dawn because someone was standing over him.
His hand immediately went toward his revolver.
Then he saw Mara.
She was holding a lantern.
"You sleep like a dead man," she said.
Caleb relaxed.
"That's comforting."
"Get up."
"Why?"
"Because you said we need evidence."
Caleb sat up.
"What time is it?"
"Early."
"That's not a time."
"It is early."
Caleb sighed.
"Fine."
The sun had not yet appeared when the first group gathered near the old spring.
Twenty-two women.
Caleb looked at them.
He had expected resistance.
Instead, they were waiting.
Some carried baskets.
Some carried tools.
One carried an old leather bag filled with papers.
Caleb pointed toward it.
"What's that?"
The woman answered:
"Records."
Caleb opened the bag.
Inside were scraps of paper, charcoal markings, dates and measurements.
Water levels.
Rainfall.
The number of families.
The number of children.
Caleb stared.
"Who kept these?"
"We all did."
He looked at Awan.
"You never told me."
Awan shrugged.
"You never asked."
Caleb smiled.
"Fair enough."
He spread the records on a flat rock.
The earliest dates went back nearly six years.
At first, the spring had been strong.
Then the levels slowly declined.
Not because of drought alone.
The decline accelerated immediately after Rourke's surveyors arrived.
Caleb pointed.
"Here."
Mara leaned closer.
"What?"
"The drop."
She looked.
Caleb explained.
"See this?"
The women nodded.
"The water fell slowly for years."
He moved his finger down the page.
"Then suddenly."
A sharp decline.
Mara's expression changed.
"When the explosions happened."
Caleb nodded.
"Exactly."
Awan looked at the records.
"Can this prove it?"
"Not alone."
Caleb turned toward the old spring.
"But combined with the damaged channel..."
He looked at the women.
"...and witnesses..."
Then toward the horseshoe.
"...and this..."
He placed the horseshoe beside the records.
"...we have something."
"What?"
"A story the judge can verify."
The women exchanged looks.
One elderly woman stepped forward.
Her name was Sani.
She was perhaps seventy.
She had watched Caleb carefully since his arrival.
"You think the judge will listen?"
"I think he will if we give him something he can't ignore."
Sani looked at him.
"And if he doesn't?"
Caleb shrugged.
"Then we find someone who will."
Sani smiled.
"You talk like a man who has never lost."
Caleb laughed.
"I've lost plenty."
"What?"
"Land."
Sani waited.
"Friends."
Another pause.
"Family."
She studied him.
"Then why do you look like a man who has won?"
Caleb looked toward the spring.
"Because I'm still here."
Sani nodded.
She understood.
The group spent the morning reconstructing the timeline.
One woman remembered the first surveyor.
Another remembered a wagon loaded with drilling equipment.
A third had seen men carrying barrels.
A fourth remembered hearing three explosions during the night.
A fifth had found dead fish near the old spring.
A sixth remembered that the men had been wearing Rourke's brand.
The stories overlapped.
Caleb wrote everything.
By noon, he had twelve pages.
But then something unexpected happened.
One woman contradicted the others.
Her name was Leya.
She insisted the explosions had occurred four days before the spring began drying.
Caleb frowned.
"Are you certain?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"My daughter was born that week."
Caleb looked at the others.
Mara shook her head.
"No. The spring died before that."
Leya stood her ground.
"I remember."
The disagreement grew.
Caleb didn't interrupt.
He let them argue.
Then he noticed something.
The two women were talking about different explosions.
Leya had heard blasting farther north.
The others had heard the blast near the spring.
Caleb looked at the map.
"How far apart?"
Nokan pointed.
"Nearly three miles."
Caleb's eyes narrowed.
"Then Rourke wasn't just working here."
Awan understood.
"He was testing the ground."
Caleb nodded.
That was worse.
The mining operation had not been a single act.
Rourke had been systematically studying the valley.
Looking for water.
Looking for minerals.
Looking for weaknesses.
And perhaps most importantly, looking for a way to make the people leave.
Caleb rolled up the map.
"We go to Dry Creek."
Awan asked:
"Now?"
"Today."
Mara looked worried.
"You can't travel alone."
"I won't."
Taza stepped forward.
"I'll go."
Nokan nodded.
"So will I."
Awan looked at the three men.
"Take the road south."
Caleb shook his head.
"No."
"Why?"
"Rourke will expect it."
Awan smiled.
"Then take the riverbed."
"There is no river."
"Exactly."
They left shortly after sunset.
Caleb rode June.
Taza rode a dark bay horse.
Nokan followed behind.
The three men traveled through dry washes to avoid the main road.
The moon was barely visible.
After three hours, Nokan stopped.
"Riders."
Caleb listened.
Nothing.
Then he heard it.
Hooves.
Three riders.
Maybe four.
They dismounted.
Caleb motioned toward a rock formation.
They waited.
The riders passed.
One spoke.
"Rourke said the cowboy is carrying papers."
Another answered:
"Then we take them."
Caleb looked at Taza.