He unfolded another.
Similar.
Not identical.
“This is the original field map.”
She looked closer.
The boundary line sat nearly a mile farther west.
Red Willow Spring lay outside Harrow’s deed.
Mara’s eyes lifted.
Elias continued.
“This was found inside a surveyor’s trunk three weeks ago.”
“Whose?”
“My brother’s.”
“You have a brother?”
“Had.”
Mara looked at him.
Elias lowered his eyes.
“Daniel.”
“I know that name.”
That surprised him.
“How?”
“Daniel Mercer came looking for my father.”
Elias stared.
“When?”
“Seven years ago.”
Elias forgot the pain for a moment.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“He never told me.”
“My father would not speak to him.”
“Why?”
Mara looked directly at him.
“Because he thought Daniel was you.”
Elias closed his eyes.
Of course.
Brothers.
Same dark hair.
Similar build.
Daniel one year younger.
“He tried to explain.”
“My father had heard explanations already.”
“What happened?”
“He left.”
Elias waited.
Mara continued.
“Then he returned two months later.”
“What?”
“With an interpreter.”
Elias’s heart pounded.
“He met my father?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He said the survey was false.”
Elias stared.
Daniel had died six years earlier.
Thrown from a horse in a canyon near Bowie.
At least that was what Harrow’s men said when they delivered his body.
For six years Elias had lived with one question.
Why had Daniel been riding forty miles from home alone?
Now a woman he had not seen since 1878 was giving him an answer.
“He found this map.”
Mara nodded.
“He said there were more.”
Elias touched the oilcloth ledger.
“There are.”
Mara looked at him.
“Harrow stole more land.”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Guess.”
“Thirty thousand acres.”
Her face went still.
“Maybe more.”
“And water?”
“Yes.”
Mara looked toward the map again.
“Red Willow?”
“Yes.”
“What are you doing with it?”
“Taking everything to Territorial Judge Nathaniel Ward.”
“Why?”
“Because Sheriff Tolliver is bought.”
“I know.”
“County recorder too.”
“I know.”
Elias looked at her.
“You know a lot.”
“We pay attention when men with paper take land.”
He deserved that.
Mara touched the edge of the original map.
Not possessively.
Almost carefully.
“My father died believing the lie became legal because your name was on it.”
Elias’s throat tightened.
“I didn’t know.”
“That sentence is easy.”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
“It is.”
Mara waited.
Elias forced himself to continue.
“I signed because I was paid to verify the measurements.”
“Did you measure?”
“Some.”