“You deserve it.”
“Probably.”
The older woman was Mara’s mother, Rose Redbird.
Joseph’s widow.
She approached Elias’s horse.
“You.”
Elias nodded.
“Yes.”
“You signed.”
“Yes.”
No excuse.
Rose looked at Mara.
“You brought him here.”
“He has papers.”
“Paper brought trouble before.”
“Different paper.”
Rose stared at her daughter.
Then at Elias’s blood-soaked shirt.
“You help him first.”
The words surprised him.
Rose noticed.
“Do not mistake kindness for forgiveness.”
“I won’t.”
“Good.”
Two men helped Elias from the saddle.
One was Mara’s older brother, Samuel Redbird, broad-shouldered and visibly unimpressed by Elias’s existence.
The other was a younger cousin named Peter.
They carried Elias into a small cabin built partly from timber and partly from stone.
A healer named Ruth examined his wound.
No one asked Elias’s permission before cutting away more of his shirt.
He complained once.
Mara stood in the doorway.
“Talk less.”
“Everyone here gives orders.”
“Yes.”
“I’ve noticed.”
The wound was cleaned and wrapped properly.
Ruth said the bullet had passed through cleanly but blood loss and infection were the greater danger.
Elias needed rest.
He asked for his satchel.
Mara brought it.
He slept with one hand on it.
When he woke, darkness had fallen.
A lantern burned beside him.
Mara sat near the door sharpening a knife.
“That seems threatening.”
She looked up.
“You are awake.”
“Unfortunately.”
“How do you feel?”
“Like someone shot me.”
“Accurate.”
Elias tried to sit.
Pain forced him back.
Mara poured water.
He drank.
“Where are my papers?”
“Under your arm.”
He looked.
Still there.
“Right.”
“You guard them even asleep.”
“Someone already killed my brother for them.”
Mara stopped sharpening.
“You think Harrow killed Daniel.”
“I know he found something.”
“That is not the same.”
“No.”
Elias looked at her.
“That sounds like you.”
“Good.”
He smiled faintly.
“What did Daniel tell your father?”
Mara put the knife away.
“He said Victor Harrow had changed survey stakes before final filings.”
“That matches the notebook.”
“He said Harrow paid Deputy Land Recorder Milton Graves.”
“That matches the ledger.”
“He said another man helped.”
Elias became still.
“Who?”
“My father never said.”
“Why?”
“Because Daniel did not know.”
Elias stared at the ceiling.
“Daniel came home two weeks before he died.”
“What did he say?”
“Nothing.”
“He must have said something.”
“He asked if I still had the 1878 survey copy.”
Mara’s eyes sharpened.
“What did you tell him?”
“That Harrow kept all originals.”
“And?”
“He asked whether I remembered Red Willow.”
Mara waited.
Elias closed his eyes.
“I got angry.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew what he was really asking.”
“What?”
“Whether I had signed without measuring.”
Mara said nothing.
“I told him to mind his own business.”