Nell looked toward Chaska and the others.
“They searched our house.”
“For what?” Eli asked.
Gideon’s good eye moved toward Serina’s satchel.
“The same thing they’ll come here for next.”
The will.
The charter.
The evidence.
Serina hugged the bag closer.
Gideon looked at Eli.
“You need to get those papers to Judge Holloway.”
“They were already filed yesterday.”
“Copies were filed.”
Serina’s expression changed.
“The original probate certificate wasn’t.”
Gideon swore softly.
Without the original, Voss could challenge the copies.
“How do you know?” Eli asked.
Gideon hesitated.
That was enough.
Eli stared at him.
“You knew too.”
Gideon sat slowly on the porch step.
“For about six months.”
“Six months?”
“Miriam’s name appeared while I was looking into Voss’s purchases.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“I wasn’t sure.”
“Everybody seems very concerned about telling me things.”
Gideon accepted that blow without protest.
“I was trying to prove it first.”
Eli walked away before anger made him say something cruel.
The courthouse was thirty-eight miles north.
Voss knew about the certificate.
Voss had men.
There was only one reasonable choice.
Which, Eli thought bitterly, meant he probably wouldn’t make it.
“We leave now.”
Waya nodded.
“I was hoping you would say that.”
Gideon stood.
“So was I.”
“You’re staying.”
“Absolutely not.”
“You can barely see.”
“I only need one eye to know you’re an idiot.”
Nell stepped forward.
“I’m coming too.”
Four adults answered simultaneously.
“No.”
Her jaw tightened.
Eli almost admired it.
Almost.
“Nell, you stay here.”
“With whom?”
Nobody answered.
The ranch was no longer safe.
Chaska crouched before her.
“Can you ride fast?”
Nell looked offended.
“Faster than Eli.”
“That is not difficult,” Waya said.
Eli glanced at her.
She remained perfectly serious.
Thirty minutes later, six riders left the ranch.
They never reached the north road.
Waya stopped them two miles beyond the creek.
She slid from her horse and touched the earth.
“Tracks.”
“How many?” Eli asked.
“Five.”
“Voss?”
“Perhaps.”
She pointed east.
“They expect us to take the road.”
Gideon groaned.
“You’re about to suggest the canyon.”
Waya smiled.
Eli knew that canyon.
So did Chaska.
Ten years vanished.
He looked at her.
She looked back.
“East,” they said together.
They rode.
By midmorning, riders appeared behind them.
Five.
Then seven.
Voss had prepared better than they hoped.
The canyon narrowed ahead.
Eli felt history closing around him.
Ten years earlier, he had been the one drawing danger away while three women ran for shelter.
Now Waya moved to his side.
“You stay with Serina.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“I know this canyon.”
“So do I.”
“You’ve been here once.”
“I remember things.”
Before Eli could argue, she turned her horse and disappeared up a narrow wash.
Two minutes later, loose stone thundered down behind them.
Three pursuing horses scattered.
Waya reappeared on a ridge.
“Keep moving!”
Eli laughed despite himself.
Ten years earlier he had saved them by knowing the land better than the people chasing them. Now Waya was using his own lesson against the men chasing him.
They reached the narrowest passage near noon.
A gunshot cracked.
Gideon’s horse stumbled.
The old man fell.
“Nell!” Eli shouted.
But Nell was already off her horse.
Gideon had not been hit.
His horse had.
Chaska pulled the old man upright.
Another bullet struck stone.
