Chapter 10

Aiyana walked over, setting a tin cup of hot chicory coffee on the table beside him. She wore her buckskin coat, her long dark hair freshly braided, her posture relaxed yet purposeful."My brother told me more about what happened before he was shot," Aiyana said softly, sitting on the bench across from Ethan.Ethan looked up from his rifle. "What did he say?""He said your father, Diego Cole, knew that the rail company would eventually come for this valley," Aiyana explained, her dark eyes searching Ethan's face. "Before your father died three years ago, he hid the second half of the 1872 covenant inside the stone chimney of your ranch house on the south fork. It is the original territorial registry deed—the document that proves the spring belongs to our people."Ethan set his oil rag aside, his brow furrowing in deep thought. "My father built that stone fireplace with his own hands twenty years ago. There's a loose granite block near the mantle on the left side... he always kept his gold coins behind it during the winter.""That is where the deed is," Kip called out weakly from his bed near the fire. "I was riding to your ranch to find it when Vance’s men ambushed me at the creek."Ethan stood up, buckling his gun belt around his waist. "Then we have to get to my ranch before Vance does. If Vance figures out where the deed is hidden, he’ll burn my house to the ground to destroy it."Aiyana stood up beside him, her long Springfield rifle already slung over her shoulder. "I am riding with you, Ethan."Ethan looked at her—taking in her sharp, beautiful jawline, her fierce dark eyes, and the absolute, unyielding determination in her stance. He knew better than to try to argue with her."Get your mare," Ethan smiled softly. "It's a ten-mile ride through the deep drifts."

They rode out of the willow flats at mid-morning, their horses picking their way carefully through the fresh three-foot drifts that covered the lower valley trail.Ethan rode his broad-chested bay gelding, taking the lead to break a path through the heavy snow, while Aiyana followed three paces behind on her lean copper mare.The wilderness around them was stunningly quiet—a world carved of blue ice, white snow, and deep green pine timber. The only sounds were the rhythmic crunch of iron horseshoes through the snow crust and the faint whistle of the mountain wind through the high peaks.As they topped a long ridge overlooking the south fork of the river, Aiyana reined her mare in beside Ethan's gelding.She looked down into the broad valley below, where a neat, three-room log cabin sat nestled beside a frozen creek, flanked by a sturdy timber barn and seventy acres of snow-covered bottomland pastures."Is that your ranch?" Aiyana asked softly."That's it," Ethan said, a faint, nostalgic smile touching his lips. "My father and I built that house out of hand-hewn ponderosa logs when I was twelve years old. It's built strong. The roof doesn't leak, even during the heavy June rains."Aiyana looked at the quiet house, then turned her dark eyes to look at Ethan’s face.

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