"Your father made the same mistake. Look where it got him."
Noah's jaw tightened.
"What do you know about my father's death?"
The sheriff did not answer.
Instead, he turned his horse toward the house.
"Search the property," he ordered his men. "Find the mare."
The two riders dismounted.
Hannah grabbed Noah's sleeve.
"They're going to burn the barn if they don't find what they want."
"Then we don't give them time."
Noah crossed to the back wall and pulled aside a stack of old feed sacks. Beneath them lay a narrow wooden hatch, almost invisible beneath the dirt.
He had seen it before, years ago, when he was a boy. His father had forbidden him to go near it.
At the time, Noah had assumed it was an old storage pit.
Now the brass key in his pocket felt like a piece of ice.
Hannah knelt beside the hatch.
"Help me move it."
Together, they lifted the heavy wooden panel. A breath of cold air rose from the darkness below, carrying the smell of damp stone and something else—something metallic, sharp, and unpleasant.
Noah raised the lantern.
A narrow staircase descended into the earth.
He stared at Hannah.
"You knew this was here?"
"My father helped build it."
"Why?"
She looked toward the barn doors.
"Because your father and mine discovered something beneath the north pasture. Something that should never have been buried there."
A crash sounded from the other end of the stable.
One of Mercer's men had entered through the side door.
Noah shoved the hatch wider.
"Go."
Hannah hesitated.
"What about Willow?"
"I'll bring her."
"No. You don't understand. She has to come with us."
The mare suddenly pulled against her lead rope.
Noah turned.
Willow was staring at the open hatch.
Then, with a low whinny, she stepped forward and placed one hoof on the first stair.
Noah stared at her.
"You've got to be kidding me."
Hannah almost smiled.
"She's been down there before."
The sound of boots approached.
Noah grabbed the mare's reins.
"All right, girl. Let's see what kind of trouble your old friends have gotten us into."
He led Willow down the narrow stairs, with Hannah close behind. At the bottom, the passage opened into a stone chamber lit by a single rusted lantern.
The walls were covered in old maps.
Some showed the Bennett ranch as it existed today. Others depicted the valley as it had looked forty years earlier, before the railroad arrived and before the land was divided into separate properties.
In the center of the room stood a wooden table.
On it lay a leather-bound ledger.
Hannah approached it slowly.
"My father wrote everything down," she whispered.
Noah opened the book.
The first pages contained lists of names, dates, and payments. The handwriting belonged to his father.
But the last page contained something else.
A map of the north pasture.
A red circle marked the location of an abandoned well.
Beneath it were three words.
Three families. One lie.
Noah looked at Hannah.
"What happened here?"
Before she could answer, a gunshot rang out above them.
Dust fell from the ceiling.
Mercer had found the hatch.
And now he knew exactly where they were hiding.
The first bullet struck the floor above them. The second tore through one of the wooden beams supporting the hatch.
Willow reared, nearly pulling the reins from Noah's hands.
"Easy!" he shouted.
Hannah grabbed the mare's bridle and spoke softly into her ear. The animal trembled, but gradually settled.
Noah looked toward the stairs.
"We need another way out."
"There is one."
Hannah moved to the far wall and pushed aside a rotting canvas. Behind it was a narrow tunnel, barely wide enough for a man to crawl through.
"My father built this to reach the creek," she said. "But it hasn't been used in years."
"Then we'd better hope the creek hasn't found its way inside."
He shoved the ledger into his coat and took the lantern.
Hannah looked at him.
"We can't leave the other papers."
"We can't carry a library through a tunnel while three armed men are trying to kill us."
She hesitated, then pulled a folded map from the table and tucked it beneath her coat.
They entered the passage just as another shot struck the chamber wall.
The tunnel sloped downward. Water dripped from the ceiling, and the floor was slick with mud. Noah led Willow by the reins while Hannah followed, one hand against the wall.
After several minutes, the passage widened.
They reached a wooden door reinforced with iron bands. Noah pushed against it, but it barely moved.
"Help me."
Together, they forced it open.