Chapter 4 - What Sarah Hid
They returned to the ranch after sunset.
Eli approached on foot first.
The front door hung crooked.
Two windows were shattered.
Furniture had been overturned.
The attackers were gone.
So was Eli’s spare horse.
He found blood outside but no body.
The man he had shot had been carried away.
Inside, drawers lay open across the floor.
The mattress had been slashed.
Every tin, trunk, cabinet, and shelf had been searched.
“They knew,” Tala said.
“They suspected.”
Mira remained outside on the bay horse while Eli and Tala moved carefully through the cabin.
Tala’s wound limited her, but she refused to sit.
“What would Sarah hide?”
Eli looked around.
“If she wanted me to find it?”
“Yes.”
“Somewhere obvious.”
“If she wanted Voss never to find it?”
“Somewhere I wouldn’t look.”
Tala’s expression said exactly.
Eli hated that answer.
Sarah had known him better than anyone.
Which meant the hiding place would exploit one of his habits.
Or one of his wounds.
He entered the bedroom.
Her small cedar box was still beneath the dresser.
Voss’s men had forced it open.
Empty.
Eli crouched.
Four years earlier, after the funeral, he had removed Sarah’s dresses, books, hairbrush, and letters.
But one thing remained untouched.
The old trunk at the foot of the bed.
Not because he had forgotten it.
Because it contained the clothes she wore during their first years together.
He had never been able to open it.
Eli knelt.
The lock had not been broken.
Tala watched from the doorway.
“Why not this?”
“Because they don’t know me.”
He opened it.
The scent was gone.
Only cloth remained.
He lifted dresses, blankets, a shawl.
Nothing.
Then his hand touched the false bottom.
Eli froze.
He had built the trunk himself.
There had never been a false bottom.
He pulled.
A thin wooden panel came loose.
Underneath lay a notebook.
A brass key.
And a sealed envelope.
On the front, in Sarah’s handwriting:
ELI — ONLY IF THEY COME FOR YOU.
He sat down hard.
For four years this had been beneath his bed.
Tala said nothing.
Eli broke the seal.
The letter inside contained only six lines.
Eli,
If you are reading this, then my silence failed to protect you.
Trust the daughters of Nantan.
Do not trust anyone who tells you the water belongs to Voss.
Especially if that person shares your blood.
Forgive me if you can.
Eli read the fifth line again.
Shares your blood.
His younger brother Daniel.
There was no one else.
Daniel Crane lived in Tucson.
He operated a freight office near the rail depot.
He had helped Eli identify Sarah’s body.
He had stood beside him at the grave.
Tala noticed his face change.
“Who?”
Eli folded the letter.
“My brother.”
The notebook contained columns of numbers, initials, dates, and symbols.
At first it looked meaningless.
Then Eli recognized ranch names.
Most no longer existed.
Barker.
Lowell.
Mesa Verde.
Cullen.
Every property had eventually become part of Voss’s holdings.
Beside each was a date.
Then a number.
Then a letter.
Tala pointed.
“What?”
“That ranch lost its well in 1879.”
Another.
“Foreclosure six months later.”
Another.
“Owner disappeared.”
Mira had been carried inside and now lay on a blanket.
She looked toward them.
“Our father called it the drought ledger.”
Eli looked at her.
“You knew about this?”
“Not that Sarah kept one.”
“What did your father keep?”
Mira swallowed.
“The names of the men who were paid.”
A sound came outside.
Eli grabbed his rifle.
A horse approached slowly.
One rider.
He moved to the broken window.
Moonlight caught the man’s face.
Eli’s grip loosened.
Daniel Crane dismounted.
His younger brother stared at the damaged cabin.
Then called softly.
“Eli?”
Tala moved behind the wall.
Eli remembered Sarah’s letter.
Especially if that person shares your blood.
Daniel stepped onto the porch.
“Thank God. I heard what happened.”
Eli opened the door.
His brother smiled with relief.
Then his eyes moved past Eli.
Straight toward the room where Tala was hiding.
The smile vanished for half a second.
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That was all Eli needed.
Daniel already knew she was there.
