Grayson wanted Catherine to remain behind.
Catherine refused.
The argument lasted eleven minutes.
“No.”
“You don’t know how many men are there.”
“Neither do you.”
“That is precisely why you’re staying.”
“This is my ranch.”
“Catherine.”
“My spring.”
“Catherine.”
“My brothers.”
“Catherine.”
She folded her arms.
“What?”
“You are the most stubborn person I have ever met.”
“Thank you.”
“That wasn’t praise.”
“I accepted it as praise.”
Grayson closed his eyes briefly.
Judge Croft, who had returned with them, tried unsuccessfully to hide his amusement.
Sheriff Bell was less entertained.
“I can bring two deputies.”
Grayson shook his head.
“If Mercer’s men see a posse, they disappear.”
Catherine looked toward the northern ridge.
“What if that’s exactly what we want?”
Grayson turned.
She pointed to the note.
“They want you alone because they think you’re the obstacle.”
“Probably.”
“They still need my signature.”
“Yes.”
“So they need both of us, but for different reasons.”
Croft nodded slowly.
“They might intend to remove Grayson and frighten Catherine afterward.”
Catherine said, “Then we give them what they expect.”
Grayson stared.
“No.”
She smiled.
“You haven’t heard the plan.”
“I already dislike it.”
The north spring lay inside a narrow stand of cottonwoods where clear water emerged between limestone shelves before feeding Miller Creek.
At midnight, Grayson approached alone.
Or appeared to.
Catherine waited forty yards back among the rocks with Sheriff Bell.
Croft remained at the ranch.
Two deputies circled from the west.
Grayson stepped into the clearing.
“Hayes!”
Jedediah emerged.
Three men followed.
One was the stranger Grayson had heard at the line shack.
Another carried a shotgun.
The third wore a city coat.
Silas Mercer.
Grayson was not surprised.
Mercer smiled.
“I told them you’d come.”
“Where’s Catherine?”
Mercer laughed softly.
“Straight to the point.”
Jedediah said, “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
“You walk away tonight, you walk away alive.”
“And Catherine?”
“She sells.”
“No.”
Mercer’s expression cooled.
“You’ve known the woman a few weeks.”
Grayson said nothing.
“You’re willing to die over another man’s acreage?”
“No.”
“Then why are you here?”
Grayson looked at him.
“Because you think terror is a contract.”
Mercer sighed.
“Very poetic.”
“Wasn’t meant to be.”
Mercer glanced at Jedediah.
“This is exactly why civilization eventually replaces men like him.”
Grayson almost smiled.
“Civilization seems to have sent four armed men into the woods.”
Mercer’s face tightened.
Behind the rocks, Catherine listened.
Her heart pounded.
Sheriff Bell whispered, “Wait.”
She hated waiting.
Then Mercer said the words they needed.
“After Hayes is gone, Catherine will sign.”
Jedediah asked, “And if she doesn’t?”
Mercer’s response came without hesitation.
“You know what to do.”
Bell’s expression changed.
It was not a complete confession.
But combined with the threats, arson evidence, poisoned cattle, and witnesses, it was enough to justify arrests.
He stood.
“Sheriff’s office!”
Everything exploded.
The shotgun man turned.
Grayson tackled him before he fired.
Jedediah drew.
Bell shouted.
A deputy fired into the air.
Horses panicked.
Mercer ran.
Catherine saw him heading toward the creek.
She left cover.
Bell shouted, “Catherine!”
Too late.
Mercer reached a saddled horse.
Catherine grabbed the bridle.
The animal reared.
Mercer struck her forearm.
She held on.
“Move!”
“No.”
He drew a small pistol.
Catherine froze.
For the first time, Mercer’s polished civility vanished entirely.
“Let go.”
She looked at the gun.
Then at him.
“You won’t shoot me.”
“You’re remarkably confident.”
“You need my signature.”
“Not anymore.”
That frightened her.
“What changed?”
Mercer smiled.
“We found another way.”
A gun clicked behind him.
Grayson.
“Put it down.”
Mercer turned.
His pistol remained pointed toward Catherine.
“You’re becoming tiresome, Hayes.”
“Been told that.”
“If you shoot me, my finger tightens.”
Grayson’s gun remained steady.
Catherine watched his eyes.
Calm.
But beneath the calm was fear.
For her.
She realized something then.
The note had not exposed Grayson’s weakness.
She had.
And perhaps he had become hers.
Catherine slowly released the horse.
Mercer stepped backward.
“That’s right.”
Another step.
His heel found mud beside the spring.
Catherine saw the unstable ground.
Grayson saw it too.
Mercer did not.
He slipped.
The pistol fired.
The bullet struck a tree.
Grayson moved.
Within seconds Mercer was facedown in the mud with his arm pinned behind him.
Sheriff Bell arrived.
“Silas Mercer, you are under arrest.”
Mercer laughed bitterly.
“For what?”
“Conspiracy. Assault. Threats. Arson once we prove it. Whatever else Judge Croft can find.”
“You have nothing.”
Catherine stepped forward.
“We have enough.”
Mercer looked at her.
“You think this saves you?”
“I think it inconveniences you.”
His smile returned.
“My company is bigger than me.”
“I know.”
“And they still want your water.”
“I know.”
“You’ll spend every dollar defending it.”
“Maybe.”
“You’ll lose eventually.”
Catherine looked toward her spring.
Clear water moved steadily between the rocks.
Her father had protected it.
She would too.
“Then they better bring more money.”
Mercer was taken away.
Jedediah escaped.
That victory lasted one day.
The next morning, Judge Croft burst into the cabin.
“The original will is gone.”
Catherine stared.
“What?”
She ran to the sewing machine.
The hidden compartment was empty.
Impossible.
Only four people knew.
Catherine.
Grayson.
Croft.
Sheriff Bell.
Grayson searched the room.
No forced entry.
No broken lock.
Catherine’s stomach sank.
“When?”
Croft asked.
“I checked yesterday morning. It was there.”
Grayson crouched beside the window.
Mud marked the sill.
Someone had entered while they were at the spring.
Catherine whispered one name.
“Jedediah.”
Croft sat heavily.
“If he destroys the original, the court challenge becomes far harder.”
“I have copies.”
“Copies can be challenged.”
Catherine stared around the cabin.
Another invasion.
Another piece of her father taken.
Her eyes filled with furious tears.
“I am so tired.”
Grayson stood.
Catherine pressed both hands against the temporary table.
“I’m tired of locking doors. I’m tired of wondering which cow they’ll poison. I’m tired of people telling me what Father wanted when they couldn’t even be bothered to watch him die.”
Grayson approached slowly.
She shook her head.
“Don’t tell me to be strong.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“I am tired of being strong.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
His face changed.
“I know more than you think.”
She looked at him.
For the first time, Grayson spoke about his past.
Twelve years earlier, he had owned a small farm in Idaho Territory.
He had a younger sister named Margaret.
Her husband beat her.
Grayson suspected it.
Margaret denied it.
One winter night she came to him with bruises.
Grayson told her to leave.
She promised she would.
Then she went home.
Grayson decided not to interfere further.
“It was their marriage,” he said quietly. “Their business.”
Catherine knew what came next before he said it.
“She died?”
Grayson nodded.
“Three weeks later.”
The cabin was silent.
“I told myself I respected her decision. Truth was, I was afraid of making things worse.”
His jaw tightened.
“I learned there are times staying out of something is just another way of choosing the wrong side.”
Catherine understood now.
Why her scream had brought him running.
Why Jedediah’s question—You planning on guarding her forever?—had affected him.
Why Grayson refused to leave.
Catherine reached for his hand.
“You couldn’t know.”
“I knew enough.”
“You’re not going to repair that night by dying for me.”
“I’m not trying to.”
“What are you trying to do?”
Grayson looked at her.
“Stand where I should.”
Her breath caught.
Neither moved.
Then Judge Croft coughed awkwardly and looked toward the ceiling.
Catherine almost laughed.
The moment passed.
But not entirely.
They found Jedediah’s trail before dusk.
He had ridden south.
Toward Deadman’s Pass.
Grayson prepared to follow.
Catherine saddled her horse.
He looked at her.
“No.”
She stared.
He sighed.
“Worth trying.”
They followed together.
Two hours later they found Jedediah’s horse.
No rider.
Then Grayson found blood.
A trail led through the trees.
Catherine gripped her shotgun.
They rounded a ridge.
Jedediah sat against a fallen log.
His leg was trapped beneath his horse’s saddle, apparently injured when the animal slipped.
The original will lay beside him.
He reached for his gun.
Grayson drew first.
“Don’t.”
Jedediah laughed weakly.
“Well.”
Catherine approached.
Her brother looked terrible.
Pale.
Sweating.
Angry.
Still dangerous.
She saw the document.
“Give it to me.”
“No.”
“Jed.”
He looked surprised.
She had not called him that since childhood.
“Give me Father’s will.”
He stared.
Then laughed.
“He loved you more.”
Catherine stopped.
So that was it.
Not land.
Not entirely.
The wound beneath everything.
“No.”
“He left you everything.”
“Because I stayed.”
“There it is again.”
“It’s the truth.”
“I was his son!”
“And I was his daughter.”
“He was supposed to leave it to us.”
“Why?”
Jedediah stared at her as if the question were absurd.
“Because we’re men.”
Catherine almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
“Father never believed that.”
“That’s because you poisoned him against us.”
“No.”
“You whispered while he was sick.”
“I changed his sheets while he coughed blood.”
Jedediah looked away.
Catherine continued.
“I fed him when his hands shook. I read to him when he couldn’t sleep. I ran the cattle because he couldn’t sit a horse.”
Her voice softened.
“You could have come home.”
Silence.
“You could have been his son.”
Jedediah’s eyes glistened.
“You chose not to.”
He looked toward the will.
Then away.
For a long moment, nobody spoke.
Finally he said, “Mercer promised us six thousand.”
Catherine closed her eyes.
Thirty-five thousand offered to her.
Six thousand to them.
They had nearly destroyed their family for a fraction of the land’s value.
“Caleb knew?”
“Yes.”
“Where is he?”
“Jail.”
“And Mercer?”
“Jail.”
Jedediah laughed bitterly.
“Then I suppose I’m the last fool standing.”
Grayson looked at his trapped leg.
“Not standing.”
Jedediah almost smiled despite himself.
Catherine retrieved the will.
She could have left him there.
Part of her wanted to.
Then she remembered her father.
Not what he would have demanded.
What kind of woman he had trusted.
She looked at Grayson.
“We’re taking him back.”
Jedediah stared.
“Why?”
Catherine answered quietly.
“Because I refuse to become you.”