“He died twenty years ago.”
“No,” Caleb repeated. “He did not.”
Clara stared at him.
For a moment, the old mill seemed to tilt around her.
“My father is alive?”
Caleb walked to a wooden crate and lifted its lid.
Inside were ledgers, maps, and letters tied with black ribbon.
“He was alive six months ago.”
The hope that had exploded in Clara’s chest turned instantly to fear.
“Six months?”
Caleb nodded.
“He died in Arizona. He asked me to find you.”
Clara’s eyes burned.
She turned away, trying to breathe.
Twenty years of wondering.
Twenty years of imagining him returning.
And now she was told he had lived all that time, only to die before she could see him.
“Why did he never come home?” she asked.
“Because coming home would have killed you.”
Caleb opened one ledger.
“Your father discovered that Red Creek was built on stolen land. Not simply taken from settlers or tribes. Stolen through forged deeds, murders, and bribed judges. The men responsible controlled the cattle routes, the bank, and the sheriff’s office.”
Clara looked at him.
“Sheriff Rusk.”
“He led them.”
She shook her head.
“Rusk raised me.”
“He kept you close so your father would stay away.”
Caleb spread the maps across the crate.
“Silas Whitmore spent twenty years gathering proof. These ledgers contain names, payments, false deeds, and confessions. Enough to hang half the most powerful men in three territories.”
Clara’s hands trembled.
“Why bring them here?”
“Because your father left instructions.”
Caleb pulled out a sealed envelope bearing Clara’s name.
She reached for it.
A gunshot exploded outside.
The lantern glass shattered.
Darkness swallowed the mill.
Caleb seized Clara and pulled her behind the grinding stone as another bullet tore through the wall.
“Stay down.”
Boots pounded across the porch.
A voice called from outside.
“Caleb Vale! Send the woman out!”
Clara recognized it immediately.
Sheriff Rusk.
Her stomach turned cold.
Caleb drew his revolver.
“He followed you.”
“No. I checked.”
“He did not follow you.”
Rusk’s voice drifted through the wall again.