THE CHIEF ORDERED THE COWBOY TO MARRY HIS VEILED DAUGHTER BUT WHEN HE SAW HER FACE, HE REALIZED SHE WAS THE WOMAN HE HAD BEEN SEARCHING FOR

“I didn’t say leave him. I said think.” Price spread a rough sketch of the depot on the bench. A drainage channel ran behind the storehouse, leading to an old culvert beneath the fence.

“The cellar has a coal hatch near the channel. If the hatch is still there, you can reach it without crossing the yard. But you’ll need a distraction at the tower.”

Mateo volunteered to create one by driving a herd of borrowed mules across the northern ridge, where their silhouettes would look like a larger party. Price would stay at the crossing and send a telegraph message to Ruth Bell, asking her to bring the field notes to a trusted attorney in Red Hollow. Jack objected to leaving Finch with Price, but Finch insisted he could do more by guiding Ruth than by carrying a rifle. His guilt had begun to turn into purpose.

Before they separated, Price handed Jack a small folded sheet.

“Daniel gave me this before they took him. He said if you came, I should tell you that he was sorry for something he did when you were boys.”

Jack frowned.

“What did he do?”

“I don’t know. He wouldn’t explain. He only said he had let you take blame for a broken fence and had carried the shame ever since.”

Jack remembered the incident. Their father had beaten him with a belt for letting the neighbor’s bull into the orchard. Daniel had been eleven, Jack fourteen. The younger boy had stood silent while their father accused Jack of carelessness. Jack had always thought Daniel was afraid to speak. Perhaps he had been. Perhaps shame could last longer than fear.

“Tell him he can apologize himself,” Jack said, folding the note.

“I’m not done with him.”

The rescue plan began after midnight. Mateo led the mules across the ridge, their hooves kicking stones down the slope. From the depot, a guard shouted and raised a lantern. Two men mounted and rode north to investigate. Jack moved along the drainage channel with his rifle slung behind him, keeping low as the tower’s shadow swept across the yard. The culvert was half blocked by boards, but he managed to pry them loose without making more than a faint scrape.

Inside the cellar, the air was sour with damp earth. Jack heard a chain move in the dark.

“Daniel?”

A hoarse voice answered, “If you’re Rourke, I’ve already told you I won’t sign.”

“It’s Jack.”

For a moment there was no reply. Then Daniel laughed once, a broken sound that ended in a cough.

“You took your time.”

Jack found him chained to a support post, one eye swollen and his left wrist wrapped in a filthy bandage. The sight made Jack’s throat tighten. He wanted to embrace his brother, but first he unlocked the chain with a key taken from the hook outside the cellar door. Daniel tried to stand and nearly fell. Jack caught him.

“Can you walk?”

“Not gracefully.”

“Grace is overrated.”

They had reached the coal hatch when a shout rang from the yard. A guard had discovered the open culvert. Jack shoved Daniel toward the narrow opening and climbed after him, dragging his brother through the mud. A shot cracked above them, then another. They crawled until the channel widened into a wash. Mateo appeared from the darkness leading one of the mules, his hat torn and his grin fierce.

“Your brother looks worse than the stories,” he said.

“Your timing looks better than your manners,” Daniel rasped.

They escaped east before dawn, leaving the depot’s men shouting behind them. Jack supported Daniel in the saddle, feeling every tremor that passed through his brother’s exhausted body. The rescue had succeeded, but the company now knew Jack had allies, and the field notes were only one piece of evidence. Daniel had seen something in the depot that frightened him more than the beatings. He waited until they reached a sheltered hollow before telling Jack what it was: Rourke planned to burn the valley’s grain stores and blame the attack on a rival band, forcing Chief Samuel to accept military protection that would in truth place the settlement under company control.

They found shelter in a narrow cave above the wash, where Mateo had hidden a small supply of water and blankets. Daniel slept for nearly four hours before pain woke him. Jack cleaned the cuts on his wrists and wrapped his swollen hand while Mateo kept watch at the entrance. The younger Mercer had grown thinner, his cheeks hollow and his beard tangled, but his eyes remained sharp. When he could sit upright, he stared at the cave wall as if the rock held a map of every mistake he had made.

“You should have stayed away,” Daniel said at last.

Jack tightened the bandage.

“You’ve said that before.”

“I mean it now. Rourke knows you’re here. If he cannot force the chief to surrender the valley, he’ll make you the excuse for sending in armed men.”

“Then we’ll make sure he cannot use that excuse.”

Daniel shook his head.

“You don’t understand how far this goes. Rourke has money behind him, and the money has friends in the territorial government. The company has purchased the sheriff, the judge, and at least one man in the telegraph office. I heard them discussing a report that would accuse the settlement of attacking railroad workers. Once the report is filed, a militia can be sent in before anyone asks questions.”

“Who is writing the report?”

“A clerk named Harlan. Not the judge—another Harlan, a cousin. He has been copying statements from men who never made them.” Daniel winced as Jack tied the bandage.

“I saw the papers. There were names of families from the valley, including children. Rourke plans to say they are part of an armed conspiracy.”

Jack sat back on his heels.

“Why didn’t you tell me all this in the letter?”

“I thought I could prove it first. I wanted to come home with the truth, not another problem.” Daniel looked at him, ashamed.