Chapter 5 - The Shot in the Dark
Caleb crawled along the wash as another bullet tore into the dirt behind him.
He did not shoot back.
Not yet.
The shooter was above him.
If Caleb fired blindly, he would only reveal his position.
He moved toward a bend where the wash narrowed between two walls of stone.
His horse screamed and bolted.
“Damn it.”
Caleb heard hoofbeats above.
One rider.
Maybe two.
Then silence.
He waited.
Minutes passed.
Finally he climbed the slope.
No one.
Only tracks.
One horse wore a shoe with a chipped left rear edge.
Caleb crouched beside the print.
He knew that shoe.
Silas Boone's gray gelding had limped into Thomas Greeley's shop two weeks earlier with the same damaged edge.
Caleb rode home on foot.
It took nearly three hours.
Dawn was coloring the horizon when he reached the ranch.
Kalisa sat on his porch.
Caleb stopped.
“You followed me?”
“No.”
“Then how are you here?”
“We found your horse.”
She pointed toward the corral.
The bay mare stood inside.
Caleb stared.
“Where?”
“Three miles south.”
Kalisa saw the dirt on his clothes.
Then the bloodless tear in his sleeve where bark had cut him.
“What happened?”
“Someone shot at me.”
Her hand moved toward her weapon.
“Who?”
“I think Silas Boone.”
Kalisa's expression darkened.
Caleb entered the house.
She followed after a moment.
He placed Mary's letter on the table.
Kalisa did not touch it.
He watched her read.
When she reached Tokala's name, she closed her eyes.
“She knew.”
“Apparently.”
“My father said she was gathering proof.”
“What proof?”
Kalisa looked toward the window.
“Before the violence began, Reeves Hargrove wanted an agreement with several ranchers and with our people.”
“What kind?”
“Access to springs.”
“Why?”
“Cattle.”
Caleb shook his head.
“His herds weren't that large then.”
“No. But he already knew the railroad survey might come through.”
Caleb stared at her.
That explained the map.
A rail water depot could make the surrounding land enormously valuable.
Kalisa continued.
“Hargrove wanted control before anyone knew.”
“And Tokala refused?”
“He said water could be shared but not owned.”
Caleb almost smiled bitterly.
“Sounds like something Mary would've liked.”
“She did.”
The words hurt.
Kalisa saw it.
“My father respected her.”
“Did she respect him?”
“Yes.”
“How much time did they spend together?”
Kalisa's face tightened.
“You are asking the wrong question.”
“It's my wife.”
“And my father.”
Caleb slammed a fist onto the table.
“She lied to me.”
“Yes.”
He looked at her sharply.
Kalisa did not retreat.
“She lied because she believed telling you would make you choose anger before truth.”
“You don't know me.”
“I know what happened at the well yesterday.”
Caleb said nothing.
Kalisa pointed at Mary's letter.
“She asked you not to go after Tokala. Yet after she died, you did.”
Caleb looked away.
He had joined Hargrove's search party.
For three days they rode across the desert looking for Tokala's band.
They never found them.
But Caleb had wanted to.
He had wanted blood.
Kalisa lowered her voice.
“My father knew you were searching.”
“Then why didn't he come explain?”
“Because three of his relatives had already been shot after approaching settlers under a white cloth.”
Caleb's anger faltered.
“By Hargrove?”
“I don't know.”
That phrase again.
Pieces.
Never the whole truth.
Caleb picked up the ammunition list.
“Fort Lyman records might still exist.”
Kalisa nodded.
“The fort is abandoned.”
“Records may have gone to Tucson.”
“Or Hargrove destroyed them.”
“Maybe.”
Caleb folded the pages.
“But Mary hid these because she expected someone else to find them.”
Kalisa looked at him.
“You?”
“No.”
Caleb tapped the triangle symbol he had copied from the tree.
“She and I used that mark.”
A strange sadness crossed his face.
“She was still talking to me even while she was keeping secrets.”
Kalisa looked at the red cloth in her hair.
Then she untied it.
She placed it on the table.
Caleb stared.
“Take it.”
He did not move.
“My father said Mary gave it to him the last day he saw her.”
Caleb picked it up carefully.
Inside one folded corner was stitching he had never seen before.
Three letters.
N.C.R.
“What does that mean?”
Kalisa leaned closer.
Her face changed.
“I know the N.”
“Who?”
“My brother.”
“Nantan.”
She nodded.
“And C?”
“I don't know.”
Caleb unfolded the cloth completely.
A tiny shape fell onto the table.
A brass key.
Both of them stared.
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Mary had hidden a key inside the scarf five years ago.
And someone had nearly killed Caleb before he could discover what it opened.
