Chapter 6 - Colter Thorn
Cade had not seen Colter Thorn in seventeen years.
That did not mean he had forgotten him.
Some people remained inside a man even after distance turned them into ghosts.
Colter had been five years younger.
Smarter.
Cleaner.
Better with numbers than guns.
Their father preferred Cade because Cade could break horses, lift fence posts, and fight.
Their mother preferred Colter because he did not frighten her.
Neither brother forgave the other for benefits they had not chosen.
“Your brother wants you dead?” Nalin asked.
“Maybe.”
“That is not convincing.”
“I’m working on it.”
They sat among the burned stones as dusk cooled the desert.
Cade opened the ledger again.
C.T.
Same initials appeared beside multiple land purchases across Pima and Cochise counties.
Some dated only four years earlier.
“Colter became a lawyer,” Cade said.
“For Creed?”
“I don’t know.”
“You know very little about your family.”
“Intentional.”
Nalin studied him.
“Did you kill one of them too?”
Cade looked at her.
“No.”
“Then why seventeen years?”
Their horses shifted outside.
Cade took a moment.
“When our father died, he left the ranch to me.”
“And?”
“Colter had kept the books for eight years.”
“So he believed it should be his.”
“He was right.”
Nalin raised an eyebrow.
“You say that easily.”
“Took seventeen years.”
Their father, Elias Thorn, had been a hard man who admired hard men.
Cade had left home repeatedly.
Colter stayed.
Worked.
Managed debt.
Kept the ranch alive.
Then Elias died and gave everything to the son who resembled him.
Cade had accepted.
That was his sin.
Not legal.
Not violent.
Still a betrayal.
“Colter demanded half,” Cade said.
“And you refused.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Pride.”
Nalin nodded.
“At least you are becoming efficient with answers.”
Cade almost smiled.
“Three months later, someone burned the barn.”
“Colter?”
“I thought so.”
“Did you know?”
“No.”
“What did you do?”
“I beat him.”
Nalin’s face hardened.
“Badly?”
“Yes.”
“Was he responsible?”
“No.”
“How did you learn?”
“The ranch hand who started it confessed years later.”
Nalin looked disgusted.
“Did you apologize?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Colter was gone.”
“You could have found him.”
“Yes.”
“But you did not.”
“No.”
Nalin closed the ledger.
“You like walking away.”
Cade stared at the burned ranch.
“Yes.”
That hurt because it was true.
They made a small fire hidden between stones.
Cade did not want smoke visible from distance.
Nalin examined the ledger more carefully.
The earliest pages documented Creed’s 1875 operation.
Weapons diverted from Army contracts.
Ammunition sold to private militias.
Then livestock purchased from raiding groups at reduced prices.
Creed had profited from instability regardless of who suffered.
Taza’s name appeared twice.
Scout — unreliable.
Then:
T.N. observed crate 17. Remove.
Nalin stopped reading.
Cade watched her.
“Want me to—”
“No.”
She continued.
The entry from the day Taza died listed four names.
Silas Creed.
Amos Vale.
Cade Thorn.
Lieutenant Nathaniel Voss.
Nalin tapped Voss.
“Who?”
“Army officer.”
“Alive?”
“Last I heard.”
“Where?”
“Fort Huachuca maybe.”
Another name appeared several pages later.
C. Thorn legal services / confidentiality.
Dated 1879.
Colter.
Cade’s jaw tightened.
“He was working for Creed four years after Fort Grant.”
Nalin asked, “Did Colter know you were involved?”
“He might have.”
“Then the five thousand?”
“Could be revenge.”
“Seventeen years late.”
“Some people are patient.”
Nalin looked toward the dark desert.
“So are snakes.”
A horse whinnied in the distance.
Not theirs.
Cade immediately extinguished the fire with sand.
Nalin took Vale’s revolver.
Cade had only the shotgun with one shell.
Footsteps approached.
One horse.
Slow.
A voice called:
“Thorn?”
Cade recognized it.
Sheriff Vale.
Nalin looked at him.
“Friend?”
“No.”
“Enemy?”
“Complicated.”
Vale appeared beyond the ruined wall.
He raised both hands.
No shotgun.
One revolver holstered.
“Creed’s men are coming.”
Cade remained behind cover.
“You help them find us?”
“If I had, you’d hear more horses.”
Nalin aimed at Vale.
“Why should we trust you?”
“You shouldn’t.”
Good answer.
Vale dismounted.
His face was swollen from Nalin’s strike.
He looked at the burned ranch.
“I told Gabe to scare the old man.”
Nalin’s revolver steadied.
“You gave the order?”
Vale swallowed.
“Creed did. I passed it.”
“My uncle burned alive.”
“I know.”
“You stood in the jail and called Gabe useful.”
Vale looked down.
“I’ve done things.”
Nalin’s voice sharpened.
“Everyone in this territory suddenly becomes honest when a gun points at them.”
Cade said, “Why are you here?”
Vale reached slowly into his coat.
Nalin cocked the revolver.
He stopped.
“Paper.”
“Two fingers,” Cade said.
Vale withdrew a folded telegram.
Cade took it.
Sent from Tucson to Dry Creek three days earlier.
THORN CONFIRMED EASTBOUND. INITIATE SALOON EVENT. CREED ARRIVES THURSDAY. WOMAN MUST SURVIVE.
Signed:
C. THORN
Cade stared.
Colter.
Vale said, “Your brother built the trap.”
Nalin looked at Cade.
“Why must I survive?”
Vale answered.
“Because Colter Thorn wants what only she can find.”
“The ledger?”
“No.”
Vale looked toward the burned floor.
“He doesn’t know you found that.”
“Then what?”
Vale hesitated.
Nalin stepped closer.
“What?”
Vale looked at the medallion around her fingers.
“Taza hid a second record before he died.”
Cade remembered.
“The one from the wagon.”
Vale nodded.
“Creed’s original transaction book.”
Nalin frowned.
“How would I find it?”
“Colter thinks Taza encoded the location in letters sent to your family.”
“My uncle burned most family papers when soldiers searched the ranch years ago.”
“Not all.”
Nalin looked around the ruins.
Vale continued.
“Your uncle told someone before he died.”
“Who?”
“A priest in San Mateo.”
Nalin knew the name.
Mission town twenty miles south.
Cade asked, “Colter knows?”
“By morning.”
“How?”
“I sent the telegram.”
Nalin nearly shot him.
Vale lifted his hands.
“I was still working for Creed.”
“Why stop?”
Vale laughed bitterly.
“Because Creed decided I was expendable.”
Cade said, “That didn’t bother you when it was everyone else.”
“No.”
Honesty again.
Not redemption.
Just accuracy.
Vale looked toward the north.
“You have maybe four hours.”
“To San Mateo?”
“If you want the second ledger.”
Nalin walked to her horse.
Cade followed.
Vale said, “Thorn.”
Cade turned.
“Your brother isn’t like Creed.”
“Better?”
“Worse.”
“Why?”
“Creed wants money.”
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Vale looked at the telegram.
“Colter wants you to understand why you’re dying.”
