Odessa did not turn immediately.
Neither did Gideon.
Wyatt stood ten feet away beside the remains of the wagon, his right hand hanging close to his revolver.
Silas spoke again.
"Hands where I can see them."
Gideon slowly lifted his.
Odessa did the same.
"You followed us," Gideon said.
"Wasn't difficult."
"How long?"
Silas laughed softly.
"Long enough."
Odessa turned.
Silas stood between two pine trees with a Winchester aimed at Gideon's chest.
Behind him were two men Odessa recognized from Larks Valley.
Both had been seen drinking with Silas.
Neither worked at Pine Ridge.
That answered several questions.
"Your father stole the rifles," Odessa said.
Silas's face tightened.
"Careful."
"He arranged the ambush."
"Wasn't his idea."
"Whose?"
Silas smiled.
"You think I waited all these years to confess to Hollis Marsh's oversized little girl?"
Odessa felt nothing at the insult.
Not anymore.
"My father found this wagon."
"And got stupid."
Gideon's voice became sharp.
"Your father framed him."
Silas swung the rifle slightly.
"My father survived."
"Until a card game."
"Everybody dies."
Odessa watched his hands.
Silas enjoyed control.
That could be useful.
"Then why threaten me?"
"Because you came carrying that damned saddle."
"You knew what was hidden in it."
His eyes changed.
There.
Confirmation.
Odessa continued.
"My father's notebook."
"Should've burned with everything else."
"Everything else?"
Silas realized too late that he had said too much.
Gideon noticed too.
"What did your father burn?" Gideon asked.
Silas spat into the dirt.
"Records."
"What records?"
No answer.
Odessa understood.
"Your father kept evidence."
"Insurance."
"Against who?"
Silas's jaw tightened.
Again, no answer.
One of the men behind him shifted nervously.
Silas snapped, "Quit moving, Cal."
Odessa filed away the name.
The second man looked younger.
Frightened.
Not loyal enough to die.
Gideon saw it too.
"Silas," he said, "you shoot us, every man at Pine Ridge comes looking."
"Maybe."
"They know where we rode."
"No, they don't."
Silas grinned.
"Your ranch hands think you're inspecting the south herd."
Gideon's eyes narrowed.
Someone else had been listening.
Silas continued.
"By the time they wonder, you'll be at the bottom of the gorge."
Odessa looked toward the slope.
Forty yards away, the ground dropped steeply.
An accident.
Three riders lost in broken country.
Plausible enough.
Odessa moved one foot slightly.
Silas raised the rifle.
"Don't."
She stopped.
"What do you want?"
"The brass tag."
Gideon said, "That's all?"
"And whatever papers you brought."
"You searched her room."
Silas shrugged.
"Couldn't find the notebook."
Odessa smiled faintly.
"Because I carry it."
His eyes dropped toward her clothing.
She lied.
But he believed her.
"Hand it over."
"No."
Silas lifted the rifle.
Gideon moved.
Odessa was faster.
She grabbed a rotten length of wagon timber and hurled it.
Not at Silas.
At his horse.
The timber struck the ground near the animal's front hooves.
The horse exploded sideways.
Silas's shot went into the trees.
Wyatt drew.
Cal ran.
The younger man shouted and dropped behind the wagon.
Gideon tackled Silas before he could cycle the Winchester.
Odessa charged the second armed man.
He fired once.
The bullet tore through her sleeve without touching flesh.
Then she reached him.
She did not hit him.
She grabbed the barrel, twisted hard and sent the rifle spinning.
The man stared up at her.
Odessa said, "Don't."
He didn't.
Behind her, Gideon and Silas rolled through the dirt.
Silas drew a knife.
Odessa shouted.
Gideon caught his wrist.
Silas drove a knee into Gideon's stomach and broke free.
Wyatt fired into the ground beside him.
"Enough!"
Silas froze.
Wyatt's revolver pointed directly at his chest.
For a moment it looked finished.
Then Cal, who had fled, came back from behind the trees with a rifle.
"Drop it!"
Everyone turned.
The hesitation lasted less than a second.
Silas ran.
He disappeared down the slope.
Cal followed.
Wyatt fired but missed.
Gideon started after them.
Odessa stopped him.
"No."
"They'll get away."
"Let them."
Gideon stared.
"We have the tag."
"And a witness."
The younger man remained on his knees.
He raised both hands.
"My name's Eli Mercer," he said quickly. "I ain't dying for Cutter."
Odessa looked at him.
"Then start talking."
Eli talked.
Silas had paid him and Cal to help frighten Odessa.
The burned storage shed.
The poisoned dog.
The shot at the porch.
All Silas.
"Why?" Gideon demanded.
Eli swallowed.
"He said the woman had something that could hang him."
"Hang him for what?"
"Rustling mostly. Maybe worse."
Odessa frowned.
"Rustling?"
Eli nodded.
"Cutter's been moving horses through the north trail for years. Changes brands at an old place past the ridge."
Ghost.
Odessa understood suddenly.
"The stallion."
Eli nodded again.
"Ghost wasn't yours originally."
Gideon's expression darkened.
"What?"
"Silas brought him in last spring. Said he bought him from a trader."
"He stole him."
"Yes, sir."
Odessa looked toward the cross-shaped scars.
Silas had used the whip while forcing the stallion along the smuggling trail.
Ghost had fought.
So Silas punished him.
The horse had remembered.
Eli continued.
"Silas was scared she'd figure it out."
"But why the Marsh papers?" Odessa asked.
Eli shook his head.
"I don't know anything about that."
That night, Gideon sent Wyatt and three men to Larks Valley with Eli and the evidence.
The sheriff began organizing a search for Silas.
They expected him to flee.
Instead, two days passed.
Then three.
Silas vanished.
Pine Ridge relaxed slightly.
Odessa did not.
"He isn't running," she told Gideon.
They stood beside Ghost's corral.
"How do you know?"
"Men who run take money."
Silas's pay envelope remained in his room.
So did clothing.
And his best saddle.
Gideon exhaled.
"Maybe he left in a hurry."
"No."
Odessa watched Ghost.
The stallion had been restless all morning.
"He's still here."
On the fourth morning, three horses disappeared.
Ghost.
Gideon's black gelding Raven.
And Nell's bay mare Molly.
The northern gate had been opened before dawn.
Tracks showed four riders.
One horse led the stolen animals.
Three followed.
Silas.
Cal.
Two unknown men.
Gideon called everyone into the yard.
"We ride in ten minutes."
Then he discovered one problem.
The eastern bridge had been sabotaged.
Its center supports had been cut.
Crossing with a group of mounted men would be dangerous.
The northern route added hours.
Silas had planned it.
"He's taking them toward the old trail," Odessa said.
Gideon looked at her.
"Nobody rides alone."
"I know."
But ten minutes later, while Gideon organized a route around the bridge, Odessa looked toward Duke.
Then toward the hoofprints disappearing into the hills.
She knew Ghost's stride.
She knew the old trail.
And she knew Silas wanted her to follow.
Which meant he would be watching the route Gideon's men were expected to take.
Not the route one woman on a gray gelding could use through the cottonwoods.
Odessa saddled Duke.
Nell caught her at the gate.
"You're leaving."
"Yes."
"Gideon will lose his mind."
"He can find it when I come back."
"Odessa."
She looked at the older woman.
Nell's eyes were frightened.
"Don't make me cook funeral food."
Odessa's expression softened.
"I'll do my best."
She rode out alone.
The tracks were easy at first.
Silas wanted them followed.
That became obvious within an hour.
Broken branches.
Deep hoof marks.
A discarded piece of rope.
Too obvious.
So Odessa stopped following them.
She looked at the hills.
Then remembered her father's words.
The east road mattered.
Silas expected pursuit along the north trail.
Odessa turned Duke east.
Two hours later, she found another set of tracks.
Less obvious.
Four riders.
Three led horses.
She smiled grimly.
"Got you."
She followed until the trail narrowed through rock.
Then Duke stopped.
His ears went forward.
Odessa heard nothing.
That was the problem.
No birds.
No insects.
Silence.
She slid from the saddle seconds before the shot came.
The bullet struck Duke's saddle horn.
The gelding bolted.
Odessa rolled behind a boulder.
Silas laughed from somewhere above.
"Knew you couldn't help yourself!"
Odessa drew her revolver.
"I knew you wanted me here!"
"Then we're both smart!"
"Difference is I'm prettier!"
Silence.
Then Cal laughed before Silas cursed at him.
Odessa smiled.
Men made mistakes when angry.
She moved along the rocks.
Another shot.
Stone chips struck her cheek.
She climbed.
At the top of the ridge, she found one of the unknown riders.
He never heard her.
Odessa pressed the revolver against his back.
"Drop it."
He obeyed.
She tied him with his own reins.
Below, horses whinnied.
Ghost.
Odessa moved toward the sound.
She found the three stolen horses tied beside a narrow canyon.
Silas stood fifty yards away.
Cal beside him.
And between them lay Duke.
The gelding had returned.
Blood marked his shoulder.
Odessa's chest tightened.
Silas saw her.
"There she is."
He held a rifle against Duke's head.
"Come down."
Odessa stayed where she was.
"You shoot him, you lose leverage."
Silas smiled.
"Maybe."
"What's this really about?"
"You."
"No."
Odessa looked at Ghost.
"This started before me."
Silas's smile faded.
Odessa continued.
"Your father left something out here. Something you're afraid I'll find."
His eyes hardened.
She knew she was right.
"What?"
Silas raised the rifle.
"Come down and maybe I'll tell you."
Odessa descended.
Step by step.
When she reached the canyon floor, Silas took her gun.
Cal searched her for another weapon.
He missed the knife inside her boot.
Silas tied her wrists.
Then he led her farther into the canyon.
Behind a rock wall, an old mine opening appeared.
Inside were crates.
Not Civil War relics.
Recent goods.
Saddles.
Rifles.
Brands.
Stolen property.
Silas had built his rustling operation over the same route his father had once used.
"Family tradition," Odessa said.
Silas struck her across the face.
She fell to one knee.
Blood filled her mouth.
"You talk too much."
Odessa looked up.
"People keep telling me."
Silas crouched.
"My father spent his whole life making sure Hollis Marsh took the blame."
"For stealing Army rifles."
"For a lot more than rifles."
"Who was he working for?"
Silas laughed.
"Men who became respectable."
Odessa's eyes narrowed.
"And the records?"
His smile vanished.
She had guessed correctly.
Silas stood.
"Your father found Ezra's ledger."
"Where is it?"
"If I knew, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
Odessa understood everything.
Silas believed Hollis had hidden the ledger before his arrest.
For years it had not mattered.
Then Odessa arrived carrying Hollis's saddle.
He assumed the ledger might still exist.
He searched her room.
Threatened her.
Tried to frighten her away.
When that failed, he set a trap.
"There's no ledger in my saddle," Odessa said.
Silas studied her.
"I know."
"Then why bring me here?"
"Because you won't stop."
He drew his revolver.
Cal shifted nervously.
"Silas."
"Shut up."
"She ain't armed."
"Neither was her old man when they ruined him."
Odessa looked past Silas.
Ghost stood tied twenty feet away.
His ears were flat.
His eyes were fixed on the whip hanging from Silas's belt.
Odessa slowly moved her bound hands.
Silas noticed.
"What are you doing?"
"Nothing."
Ghost pulled against the rope.
Silas turned.
That was Odessa's moment.
Her knife came from her boot.
She cut the wrist rope once.
Twice.
The leather parted.
Silas turned back.
Too late.
Odessa hit his gun hand.
The revolver fired into the dirt.
Ghost reared.
Cal jumped away.
Odessa grabbed Silas.
He drove the butt of the revolver into her temple.
White light exploded behind her eyes.
She fell.
Silas kicked her ribs.
Odessa caught his ankle.
Twisted.
He crashed down.
Ghost tore his rope free.
Silas saw the stallion coming and went pale.
The silver horse charged.
Not Odessa.
Silas.
He threw himself behind a rock as Ghost's hooves struck inches away.
Cal ran.
Odessa got to her feet.
Silas scrambled toward the canyon edge.
Odessa followed.
He swung the whip.
It wrapped around her arm and tore her sleeve.
She pulled.
Silas was jerked forward.
They collided.
Both fell hard.
Her head struck stone.
When Odessa opened her eyes, Silas was gone.
Cal too.
Duke struggled upright nearby.
The three stolen horses remained.
Odessa stood.
Pain moved through every part of her.
She looked toward the road home.
Then gathered the lead ropes.
Duke could not carry her.
So she walked.
Hours later, just before sunset, Pine Ridge Ranch appeared through the cottonwoods.
Odessa limped out of the brush.
One black horse.
One bay.
And Ghost behind her.