And the warriors were refusing to give it to him.
Then Corvin saw one of Voss’s deputies raise a rifle.
Not toward the warriors.
Toward another deputy.
Corvin understood half a second too late.
Voss’s own man fired into his own line.
A deputy toppled from his saddle.
Voss shouted instantly.
“AMBUSH!”
The valley exploded.
Gunfire cracked from the southern field.
Apache riders disappeared behind ridges and rocks rather than charging.
Corvin dove behind the stone well.
Naya landed beside him.
Bullets struck the house.
Horses screamed.
Dust erupted everywhere.
But the massacre Voss expected did not happen.
The warriors did something far more dangerous.
They maneuvered.
Riders swept behind the southern force, cutting off retreat.
Others shot horses from beneath armed men without killing the riders.
Within minutes, Voss’s eighty men realized they were surrounded by people who knew every wash, ridge and dry creek in the valley.
Corvin fired only when necessary.
A man rushed the house.
Corvin shot the rifle from his hands.
Another appeared beside the barn.
Naya struck him from behind with the stock of a captured rifle.
Corvin stared.
She looked at him.
“What?”
He almost laughed.
Even without translation, he understood the question.
“You do that often?”
Naya smiled for the first time.
Then a bullet struck the well between them.
They dropped.
Gideon was advancing toward the house.
Corvin saw him disappear behind the barn.
“My mother.”
Naya saw it too.
They ran.
Inside, Elena’s bed was empty.
Corvin’s stomach turned.
The rear door hung open.
They rushed outside.
Gideon stood near the dry creek holding Elena against him.
A revolver pressed beneath her jaw.
Corvin stopped.
Naya did not.
“Stop!” Corvin shouted.
She froze.
Gideon dragged Elena backward.
“You always were stubborn, boy.”
Corvin aimed.
Gideon laughed.
“You won’t shoot.”
“Let her go.”
“I raised you.”
“You stole me.”
“I fed you.”
“You murdered my father.”
“I taught you to ride.”
“You taught me to fear every question I ever had.”
Gideon’s face twisted.
“I made you.”
Elena suddenly spoke.
“No.”
Gideon looked down.
That was his mistake.
Elena drove her elbow into his ribs.
Naya moved.
So did Corvin.
Two shots rang out.
Gideon stumbled.
For one terrible second Corvin thought he had fired the killing bullet.
Then he saw Gideon’s revolver still raised.
And behind him stood Merrick Voss.
Smoke curled from the sheriff’s gun.
Gideon looked at the blood spreading across his chest.
Then at Voss.
“You…”
Voss fired again.
Gideon collapsed.
Corvin rushed toward Elena.
Naya reached her first.
Voss swung his revolver toward them.
“You miserable fools,” he hissed. “Do you know how much this valley is worth?”
