Clara looked toward the tin box.
Then at Isaiah.
Then at Sheriff Keene.
There were too many men.
No escape route.
No judge.
No federal marshal.
No miracle.
Clara bent down.
She lifted both ledgers.
Carrow's smile returned.
"Good."
She walked toward him.
Isaiah spoke.
"Clara."
She ignored him.
Carrow held out his hand.
Clara stopped three feet away.
"Thomas made one mistake."
Carrow's smile faded slightly.
"He trusted that hiding the truth would be enough."
She dropped the ledgers.
Into the open lantern at Carrow's feet.
Flame climbed instantly across the leather.
Carrow lunged forward.
"No!"
Every man looked down.
Isaiah moved.
He struck the nearest rifle aside.
Clara grabbed the lantern and threw it toward the dry grass.
Flame raced across the ground.
Horses screamed.
Men scattered.
Sheriff Keene shouted.
Gunfire erupted.
Clara dropped behind her father's stone marker.
Isaiah fired twice.
A rifle fell.
Carrow kicked dirt over the burning ledger.
Pages curled black.
"You stupid woman!"
Clara laughed.
For the first time since Thomas died, she laughed without bitterness.
"Those aren't the originals."
Carrow froze.
Isaiah looked at her.
Even he had not known.
Clara pulled Thomas's letter from her coat.
On the back was a line she had read while riding that afternoon.
RAFAEL HAS THE PLATES.
The ledgers were evidence.
But Thomas and Rafael had photographed every page using a cumbersome wet-plate camera borrowed from a traveling photographer.
Glass negatives had been stored separately.
Carrow could burn books.
He could burn newspapers.
He could burn homes.
But he could no longer burn every copy.
The sound of approaching horses rolled across the property.
Many horses.
Carrow looked toward the road.
Riders appeared.
Rafael Mendoza was among them.
So was Judge Samuel Holloway.
Behind the judge rode six territorial deputies and two federal investigators who had arrived in Albuquerque after Holloway received Clara's first letter.
Rafael had reached them the previous morning.
Carrow turned toward Sheriff Keene.
"Do something."
Keene stared at the approaching lawmen.
Then he slowly lowered his weapon.
Carrow's face changed.
"Keene."
The sheriff stepped away.
"Enough."
"You belong to me."