“Because Father had injured his right hand the previous winter. For months he could barely hold a pen. The document was supposedly signed during that time, and the handwriting was perfectly steady.”
Daniel nodded.
“What did you do?”
“We refused to sign the property over.”
Rachel gave a bitter laugh.
“That made him angry.”
Abigail continued.
“He gave us ten days to leave.”
“And the sheriff?”
“He said it was a civil matter.”
Daniel muttered something under his breath.
“What happened next?”
Lucy reached into the satchel.
She withdrew a small brass key.
“Father left this.”
Daniel examined it.
It was old and tarnished, with an unusual triangular cut along the shaft.
“Where did you find it?”
“In his pocket watch.”
Lucy placed the silver watch on the table.
“When we opened the back, the key was hidden beneath the mechanism. There was also a note.”
She unfolded a tiny scrap of paper.
Daniel read the words aloud.
“When the third bell sounds, follow the water beneath the stone.”
He frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“We don't know,” Abigail said.
“Did your father own any other property?”
“Just the forty acres.”
“Any buildings?”
“An old mining cabin, a ruined shed, and a dry well.”
Daniel looked at the key again.
Then at the notebook.
“Did you search the cabin?”
“Yes,” Rachel said. “We found nothing.”
“The well?”
“It was covered with boards years ago.”
Daniel stared at the paper.
The third bell.
Water beneath the stone.
Something stirred in his memory.
Eleanor had once mentioned a hidden chamber beneath an abandoned mine.
A place where important records could be kept safe.
At the time, he had dismissed it as another of her imaginative stories.
Now he was not so sure.
He turned to Abigail.
“What happened tonight?”
Her face darkened.
“Deputy Price came to us at sunset. He said Voss had ordered our arrest for theft and that the sheriff intended to hand us over to Briggs.”
“Why would Samuel warn you?”
“Because he'd known Father since he was a boy. He didn't believe the accusations.”
Daniel nodded.
“He was a decent man.”
“He told us to take only what we could carry and meet him near Miller crossing.”
“And?”
“We did.”
Abigail's voice trembled.
“He had three horses waiting. He said he could get us to the railroad station at Black Creek before morning.”
Lucy began crying again.
Rachel reached for her hand.
“We were less than a mile from the crossing when Briggs and his men appeared.”
Daniel's expression hardened.
“Did Samuel fire first?”
“No,” Abigail whispered. “He raised his hand and told them we were under his protection.”
She swallowed.
“Briggs laughed.”
Daniel stared at her.
“Then he shot him.”
The words seemed to drain the warmth from the kitchen.
Abigail wiped her eyes.
“Samuel fell from his horse. Rachel fired at Briggs, and the horses scattered. We ran into the trees.”
Rachel stared at the revolver in her lap.
“I don't even know if I hit anyone.”
Daniel looked at the weapon.
“You probably saved your sisters.”
Rachel shook her head.
“I left him there.”
“You couldn't have helped him.”
“I should have tried.”
Daniel leaned forward.
“Listen to me. Samuel knew what he was risking when he came for you. If he could speak now, he'd tell you to stop blaming yourself and make sure his death meant something.”
Rachel looked at him.
For the first time since arriving, her expression softened.
“You sound like you knew him well.”
“I did.”
She lowered her eyes.
“I'm sorry.”
Daniel nodded.
“So am I.”
A sudden noise came from outside.
All four adults turned toward the window.
A horse snorted.
Then came the unmistakable creak of a saddle.
Daniel stood instantly.
“Stay here.”
He crossed to the kitchen door and extinguished the lamp.
The room fell into darkness except for the glow of the stove.
Abigail rose.
“Is it them?”
Daniel held up a hand.
Footsteps approached the porch.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Then someone knocked.
Three times.
Daniel did not move.
Another three knocks followed.
A man's voice called through the door.
“Mercer.”
Daniel recognized it.
His shoulders tightened.
“Who's there?” Rachel whispered.
Daniel looked at the sisters.
“Someone I hoped I'd never see again.”
The voice outside returned.
“Open the door, Daniel. We need to talk.”
Daniel reached for his revolver.
Abigail stared at him.
“Who is it?”
He answered without looking away from the door.
“Sheriff Nathaniel Crowe.”
Rachel's face went pale.
“The sheriff works for Voss.”
Daniel nodded.
“I know.”
The knocking came again.
Harder this time.
“Daniel, I know the Whitmore girls are in there.”
Lucy gasped.
Daniel moved toward the door.
“Get into the cellar,” he whispered.
Abigail hesitated.
“What are you going to do?”
Daniel checked the revolver.
“Find out whether the sheriff came here to arrest you.”
He looked at the door.
“Or to kill us all.”
And as the three sisters hurried toward the kitchen cellar, Daniel Mercer realized that the past he had spent five years escaping had finally caught up with him.
Only this time, he had something to protect.
And he would not fail again.
CHAPTER FOUR: THE SHERIFF WHO CAME BEFORE DAWN
The knocking came again.
Three hard blows against the kitchen door, each one deliberate enough to make the iron latch tremble.
Daniel Mercer stood in the darkness with his revolver hanging loosely at his side.
Outside, the storm had begun to weaken, but the wind still moved through the cottonwood trees like something searching for a way inside. Rainwater poured from the roof in silver streams, splashing against the wooden porch where Sheriff Nathaniel Crowe waited.
Daniel had known Crowe for nearly four years.
They had shared meals, traded horses, and once spent an entire afternoon repairing a collapsed bridge after spring floods had cut Silver Creek off from the northern settlements.
There had been a time when Daniel considered the sheriff an honest man.
That was before Caleb Voss began paying the county's debts.
Before honest ranchers started losing their land.
Before complaints against Voss disappeared from the courthouse records.
And before Deputy Samuel Price was murdered while trying to protect three frightened women.
“Mercer!” Crowe called. “I know you're awake.”
Daniel glanced toward the cellar.
The wooden trapdoor beneath the kitchen rug had closed only moments earlier. Abigail had gone down first, followed by Lucy, who was still weak from the cold. Rachel had resisted until Daniel reminded her that the revolver in her hand would be far more useful if nobody knew she was there.
Now the sisters were hidden beneath the kitchen floor.
Daniel hoped they would stay quiet.
He slipped his Colt into the holster at his hip, pulled his shirt over the weapon, and lifted the latch.
The door opened inward.
Sheriff Nathaniel Crowe stood on the porch, a tall, heavyset man with iron-gray hair and a thick mustache. His black raincoat was soaked, and water dripped from the brim of his hat. A silver star gleamed against his chest.
Two mounted deputies waited near the fence.
Daniel recognized neither of them.
That worried him more than the sheriff's unexpected arrival.
“Evening, Nathaniel.”
Crowe removed his hat.
“It's closer to morning.”
“Then good morning.”
The sheriff did not smile.
“Mind if I come in?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“Whether you're here as a friend or as sheriff.”
Crowe looked past him into the kitchen.
“Does it matter?”
“Tonight it does.”
For several seconds, the two men studied each other.
Then Crowe sighed.
“I'm too old to stand in the rain arguing with you, Daniel.”
Daniel stepped aside.
“Come in, then.”
Crowe entered, bringing the smell of wet leather and cold air with him.
His eyes moved quickly around the room.
The stove was burning.
Four bowls sat on the table.
Daniel noticed the sheriff counting them.
“Expecting company?” Crowe asked.
Daniel shut the door.
“Was hungry.”
“For four bowls?”
“Didn't know how hungry I'd be.”
Crowe turned toward him.
“Don't play games with me.”
Daniel leaned against the kitchen counter.
“Then ask what you came to ask.”
The sheriff placed his hat on the table.
“Three women escaped lawful custody tonight.”
“Did they?”
“Abigail Whitmore, Rachel Whitmore, and Lucinda Whitmore.”
“Sounds like a family.”
“They are.”
“Then why are you hunting them?”
Crowe's jaw tightened.
“They're wanted for theft, destruction of property, and the murder of a county deputy.”