Do not trust Gideon.

Do not trust the preacher.

Ride north beyond the old stage road.

Find Caleb Rusk.

Tell him Anna was wrong.

Tell him I should have trusted him.

Caleb stopped.

His hands were shaking.

Mae stared at him.

“You’re Caleb.”

He looked up slowly.

“You knew my name.”

“Yes.”

“You chose that trail because of this.”

Mae nodded.

“I didn’t know what you looked like.”

Caleb rose abruptly.

“You could have said something.”

“I had just escaped a house where every man who smiled at me eventually became another locked door.”

The words stopped him.

Mae’s voice cracked.

“I needed to see what kind of man you were before I told you why I came.”

Caleb looked down at Anna’s letter.

Nine years.

Nine years of imagining his sister lying in an unmarked grave.

Nine years of wondering whether he had missed some obvious clue.

And all that time,

Anna had left a message inside the Drayton house.

Caleb turned the paper over.

Something was written faintly along the bottom.

He moved it toward the light.

Three words.

I WASN’T FIRST.

Hoofbeats came just after sunset.

Caleb extinguished the lantern.

Mae froze.

Outside, horses descended into the ravine.

At least four.

Caleb moved toward the cracked rear wall and looked through a narrow opening.

Sheriff Hollis rode first.

Beside him was Jed Cole, Drayton’s foreman.

Two ranch hands followed.

Mae appeared beside Caleb.

Her breathing became shallow.

He whispered, “Stay here.”

Her fingers grabbed his sleeve.

“No.”

“They won’t find you.”

“You don’t know that.”

Caleb looked at her.

She was right.

He handed her his spare revolver.

Mae stared at it.

“Ever used one?”

“No.”

“Point it at whatever frightens you most.”

“That’s not useful instruction.”

“It’s the only kind I have time for.”

Despite everything, her mouth twitched.

Outside, Sheriff Hollis dismounted.

“Rusk?”

Caleb’s eyes narrowed.

They knew.

“Come on out.”

Nobody answered.

Hollis continued.

“We’re searching for Mrs.

Drayton.”

Mae’s fingers tightened around the pistol.

“Owen says she became confused this morning.

Hurt herself.

Ran off.”

Caleb closed his eyes briefly.

Of course.

Hollis moved closer.

“She’s unwell, Caleb.”

Mae trembled beside him.

“She needs her husband.”

Caleb whispered, “Stay.”

Then he stepped outside.

Hollis rested one hand near his holster.

“There you are.”

“What do you want?”

“Asked you already.”

Caleb leaned against the ruined doorway.

“Haven’t seen her.”

Jed Cole looked toward Juniper.

“That mare carrying extra weight today?”

Caleb smiled faintly.

“She complaining?”

Nobody smiled.

Hollis stepped closer.

“If Mae’s here, send her out.”

“Why?”

“Because she belongs with her husband.”

The words reached Mae through the wall.

Her face changed.

Not fear.

Something colder.

Caleb said, “Women aren’t cattle.”

Hollis sighed.

“You always did enjoy making simple things difficult.”

One ranch hand spoke from behind him.

“Mr.

Drayton only wants the page back.”

Hollis spun.

“Shut your mouth.”

Inside the station, Mae looked at Caleb.

Caleb had heard it too.

The sheriff’s expression darkened.

He knew he had lost the lie.

Caleb straightened.

“What page?”

Hollis stared at him.

Neither man moved.

Then Caleb said quietly,

“Maybe you’d better ride home before you say something Gideon can’t buy back.”

For one dangerous second, Caleb expected gunfire.

Instead, Hollis smiled.

“You were always stubborn.”

He mounted.