Chapter 9 - The Day Before Mary Died
Dr. Price remembered more than he wanted to.
“Mary came to the clinic near sunset,” he said.
Caleb sat across from him.
Kalisa remained near the window.
“She was furious,” Price continued. “Not frightened. Furious.”
“That sounds like her,” Caleb whispered.
“She asked who dressed the dead man.”
“What did you say?”
“The truth.”
Kalisa turned.
“You told her Hargrove?”
“I told her Silas brought the body and Reeves took control afterward.”
Caleb frowned.
“Did Mary mention Tokala?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
Price thought.
“She said, ‘If Tokala sees those photographs, there will be blood.’”
Kalisa nodded slowly.
“My father believed the army killed Nantan.”
“Because of the jacket,” Caleb said.
“And because Reeves's newspaper printed the photograph.”
The machinery became clearer.
Hargrove's men killed Nantan.
They dressed him in stolen cavalry clothing.
Settlers were told Apache raiders possessed military gear.
Apache families saw one of their dead men dressed like a soldier and believed the army had desecrated him.
Each side received a different lie.
Each lie produced anger.
Caleb felt nauseated.
“What happened after Mary left?”
Price rubbed his face.
“She said she was going to find Captain Ward.”
“Fort Lyman.”
“Yes.”
“But the fort is twenty miles north.”
“She never reached it.”
Caleb stood.
“Why didn't you tell me this five years ago?”
Price looked at him.
“Because the morning after Mary died, Reeves came here.”
“And?”
“He had two men with him.”
“So?”
Price's mouth trembled.
“One of them carried my granddaughter's ribbon.”
Caleb stopped.
Price continued.
“She was six.”
The old doctor looked down.
“He placed that ribbon on my desk and asked whether I understood the cost of confusion.”
Kalisa's face hardened.
“You protected your family.”
“I protected one child by helping bury the truth about two dead people.”
No one spoke.
Finally Caleb asked, “Do you still have the original notes?”
Price nodded.
“In a bank box in Prescott.”
“Why keep them?”
“Because cowardice and guilt are not the same thing.”
Price stood.
“I was afraid to speak. I was also afraid to destroy the only proof that I had lied.”
He gave Caleb a key.
“Bring a federal marshal.”
“Why federal?”
“Because Hargrove owns the county sheriff.”
Caleb knew Sheriff Warren Pike and Reeves drank together every Saturday.
That was not proof.
But it was enough to be cautious.
Outside, Kalisa mounted her horse.
“We need Tokala.”
Caleb hesitated.
The name still carried old poison.
“What can he prove?”
“What Mary told him.”
“Will he come?”
“If I ask.”
They returned to Caleb's ranch near dusk.
A wagon stood by the porch.
Reeves Hargrove sat beside it.
Two men waited behind him.
Caleb dismounted.
“You're trespassing.”
Reeves smiled.
“I came to make an offer.”
“No.”
“You haven't heard it.”
“I don't need to.”
Reeves pulled out a document.
“Your bank note matures in twelve days.”
Caleb stared.
He knew.
The ranch had struggled during the drought.
Reeves continued.
“I'll pay the debt and give you eight thousand dollars for the property.”
“It isn't for sale.”
“Everything is for sale.”
Kalisa remained on her horse.
Reeves looked at her.
“Some people understand that too late.”
Caleb stepped between them.
Reeves smiled.
“Careful.”
“Get off my land.”
Reeves folded the offer.
“You think this is about Mary now.”
Caleb said nothing.
“It isn't.”
Reeves looked toward the stone well.
“It was never about Mary.”
Caleb's fists tightened.
Reeves mounted.
As he turned away, he added, “Your wife was simply standing on something valuable.”
He rode out.
Caleb watched him go.
Kalisa asked, “What did he mean?”
Caleb looked toward the well.
Then toward Mary's forged deed.
“He means if he can't make me sell, he'll use the paper saying Mary already did.”
The next morning, a notice arrived from the bank.
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Reeves Hargrove had purchased Caleb's outstanding loan.
And in twelve days, he intended to foreclose.
