Corvin’s stomach turned.
“So this began because of him.”
“Yes.”
The word struck harder than a fist.
The man Corvin had admired his whole life.
The man who taught him kindness.
Had helped cause everything.
Kele continued.
“When Gideon learned what Henry intended to do, he tried to stop him.”
Corvin looked at Vale.
“Henry hired men to clear the valley.”
Mara nodded.
“Gideon warned our families.”
“He failed,” Kele said.
His voice carried decades of sorrow.
“But he tried.”
“And afterward?”
“He took you.”
Kele looked at Vale.
“And Samuel.”
Corvin understood.
“Why rescue Henry Vale’s son?”
Kele’s expression softened.
“Because Gideon believed children do not inherit the sins of fathers.”
Vale looked away.
Corvin’s voice dropped.
“What happened to Samuel?”
Kele answered.
“Gideon took both boys east.”
Vale suddenly spoke.
“He left me at an orphan home in St.
Louis.”
Kele looked at him.
“Yes.”
Vale laughed bitterly.
“And kept him.”
He pointed at Corvin.
Something raw appeared on his face.
“So that’s the truth.”
Corvin stared.
“What?”
Vale’s anger rose.
“He kept you.”
“You were seven.”
“He abandoned me.”
“He saved your life.”
“And then discarded me.”
Vale looked toward Gideon’s cabin.
“He raised you on land bought with money from my father’s company.”
Corvin stepped closer.
“So you came back for revenge?”
Vale laughed.
“At first?”
He looked toward the well.
“At first I came back for what was mine.”
“Copper.”
“My inheritance.”
“No.”
Corvin shook his head.
“Your father stole it.”
Vale’s expression sharpened.
“Every fortune out here was taken from somebody.”
“Then maybe that’s why men like you never sleep.”
Something dangerous passed across Vale’s face.
Then he smiled again.
“You think three hundred riders change the law?”
“No.”
Corvin held up Gideon’s letter.
“But perhaps this does.”
Vale’s smile faltered.
Corvin had reached the final paragraph.
He had not understood it earlier.
Now he did.
Henry Vale believed Gideon destroyed the original survey records.
He was wrong.
I kept them.
More important, I kept Henry’s written orders to remove the settlements by force.
They are not in this cabin.
They are beneath the one place Red Meridian can never dig without exposing what it did.
Corvin looked toward the well.
Vale moved first.
“Get to the well!”
His guards charged.
Everything exploded.
Mara shouted.
Kele raised his rifle.
Corvin drew his pistol.
Across the ridges, riders thundered downward.
Dust swallowed the ranch.
Horses screamed.
Vale’s men reached the well as Corvin sprinted across the yard.
One swung at him with a rifle stock.
Corvin ducked.
Drove his shoulder into the man’s ribs.
They crashed against the stone rim.
Mara appeared beside them and tore the rifle away.
Another shot cracked.
Wood splintered beside Corvin’s head.
Kele shouted for his men to hold fire toward the cabin.
Vale ran.
Not away.
Toward the well.
He knew.
Corvin understood suddenly.
“He knows where it is!”
Vale grabbed the well rope.
Corvin seized his coat.
They struck the ground together.
Vale was stronger than he looked.
His fist caught Corvin across the mouth.
Corvin tasted blood.
Vale hit him again.
“You think Gideon chose you because you were special?”
Corvin slammed his forehead into Vale’s face.
“No.”
Vale reeled.
Corvin tackled him.
“He chose me because I needed him.”
Vale froze.
For one second, something broke in his expression.
A seven-year-old boy abandoned in St.
Louis appeared beneath the millionaire.
Then hatred returned.
“He owed me too.”
“Yes.”
Corvin’s grip loosened.
Vale stared.
