Chapter 5 - The Ledger of Stolen Acres
The ledger contained fifty-seven names.
Elias recognized twelve.
Farmers.
Widows.
Small ranchers.
Men who had lost property after sudden debts appeared.
Beside every name were numbers, dates and initials.
Some entries contained only one word.
PRESSURE.
Others:
FORECLOSE.
BUY JUDGE.
MOVE FAMILY.
Elias’s stomach turned.
“Harlan Voss wrote this?”
Tavan sat beside him.
“Some pages.”
“How can you tell?”
“We have intercepted letters.”
Elias turned toward the final third of the book.
CEDAR BASIN appeared across two pages.
Beneath it:
BOONE TRUST — SIGNATURE REQUIRED.
TERRITORIAL SURVEY COPY MISSING.
C.B. PATENT MUST BE VOIDED.
NATIVE CLAIMS IRRELEVANT AFTER TRANSFER.
Elias read the last line again.
Tavan’s voice was flat.
“That is why we followed the courier.”
“You knew this ledger was coming?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“A clerk in Voss’s office has helped us.”
“Who?”
“I will not tell you.”
“Still keeping secrets?”
“Keeping him alive.”
Elias could not argue with that.
Sani knelt and checked the splint.
“You should not ride for several weeks.”
Elias looked at him.
“I’ll ride tomorrow.”
“You will fall tomorrow.”
“Then tie me to the saddle.”
Sani stared for a second.
“That can be arranged.”
Tavan almost smiled.
Elias turned another page.
A folded document had been tucked into the binding.
He carefully pulled it free.
It was a deed.
Dated 1876.
Transfer of Cedar Basin property rights from Elias Boone to Harlan Voss’s original land company.
Elias frowned.
“I was twenty years old in 1876.”
Tavan nodded.
“I was in Kansas.”
“Yes.”
“I had never heard of Voss.”
“Yes.”
Elias looked at the signature.
ELIAS BOONE.
It resembled his handwriting.
Very closely.
His skin prickled.
“This looks like mine.”
“That is why the deed survived challenges.”
“How?”
Tavan said nothing.
Elias suddenly thought of letters he had written Silas over the years.
Bank papers.
Cattle bills.
Land documents.
His signature existed everywhere.
Someone could have copied it.
Then he noticed the witness.
SILAS BOONE.
Elias stared.
“No.”
Tavan’s face remained unreadable.
“My uncle witnessed this.”
“According to the paper.”
“You think it’s forged?”
“I think Silas must answer.”
Elias’s anger erupted.
He threw the deed against the dirt.
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
Tavan waited.
Elias pointed toward the paper.
“You chase me. You tell me Ruth wasn’t my mother. You tell me my father wasn’t my father. You tell me I own land I’ve never seen. Then every time I ask who betrayed me, you say ask Silas.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because hatred built on another man’s accusation is still borrowed hatred.”
The sentence stopped Elias.
Tavan continued.
“I could tell you Silas sold you. Perhaps you would believe me because you are angry.”
“Did he?”
“I know what I saw. I do not know what he believed.”
For the first time, Elias understood why Tavan led men.
Not because he had the loudest voice.
Because he knew when not to use it.
Elias picked up the deed again.
A brass embossing seal appeared at the bottom.
FORT GARRETT LAND OFFICE.
“Could this be checked?”
“Yes.”
“Records?”
“If they still exist.”
“You think Voss will destroy them.”
“I think Voss has had twenty years.”
Elias turned toward the ledger.
One entry near the bottom contained a date from only four days earlier.
PAY S.B. FINAL INSTALLMENT AFTER BOONE SIGNS.
Elias stared.
S.B.
Silas Boone.
“How much?”
Beside the initials:
$25,000.
A fortune.
Enough to buy five ranches.
Elias’s hands shook.
“So that’s it.”
Tavan leaned closer.
“Maybe.”
“He sold me.”
“Maybe.”
“Stop saying maybe.”
Tavan met his eyes.
“Then stop demanding certainty before you have evidence.”
Elias looked away.
Footsteps approached.
One of Tavan’s scouts emerged.
He spoke quietly to the Chief.
Tavan’s expression changed.
“What?” Elias asked.
“Voss has sent word.”
“To whom?”
“You.”
The scout handed over a folded note.
Elias opened it.
BOONE—
I HAVE SILAS.
IF YOU WANT TO HEAR THE TRUTH FROM HIS OWN MOUTH, COME TO THE OLD SAWMILL TOMORROW AT NOON.
BRING THE LEDGER.
COME WITH THE CHIEF IF YOU LIKE.
I HAVE NOTHING TO HIDE.
—H. VOSS
Elias laughed without humor.
“A man with nothing to hide doesn’t keep this kind of ledger.”
Tavan nodded.
“There is another problem.”
“What?”
“The old sawmill sits on federal timber ground.”
“So?”
“So Voss chose it because neither side controls it.”
Elias folded the note.
“He wants me there.”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m going.”
Sani looked at his leg.
“You cannot walk.”
Elias pulled his hat lower.
“Good thing God made horses.”
Tavan stared at him.
“Voss wants you angry.”
“He has succeeded.”
“He wants you to see Silas before you have time to think.”
“Also succeeded.”
“And he wants that ledger.”
Elias slid it back inside the saddlebag.
“That part is going badly.”
Then he looked toward the dark forest.
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For thirty-three years, Silas Boone had been his father.
Tomorrow Elias would look him in the eye and ask whether any part of that life had been real.
