Chapter 4 - What May Stole Before She Ran
Blaine picked up the silver watch as though touching it too quickly might make it disappear.
There was a dent near the hinge.
He remembered creating it himself.
Caleb had thrown the watch at him during an argument when they were boys. Blaine ducked. It struck a horseshoe nailed beside the barn door.
Their father had made Caleb apologize.
Their mother had laughed until she cried.
Blaine turned the watch over.
Two initials were engraved into the back.
C.M.
There could be no mistake.
“Where is he?”
Clara looked toward the woman holding the shotgun.
The woman lowered it fully.
“My name's Ruth Daley,” she said. “Clara reached me three nights ago.”
Blaine's eyes remained on Clara.
“Where is my brother?”
Clara looked frightened by the intensity in his voice.
May touched Blaine's sleeve.
He understood and softened.
“Please.”
Clara sat beside the small stove.
“He worked at Red Hollow.”
“Worked?”
“He pretended to.”
Blaine crouched.
“What does that mean?”
“He was helping people.”
May stared.
“Caleb was the one leaving food near the east fence?”
Clara nodded.
“And keys.”
May covered her mouth.
For three years, someone inside Silas Vane's operation had quietly sabotaged locks, left food, altered records, and helped prisoners disappear.
Nobody knew who.
Silas had tortured his own men trying to identify the traitor.
May had once heard him swear he would burn Red Hollow to the ground before allowing “the ghost” to humiliate him again.
The ghost was Caleb Mercer.
“Why didn't he escape?” Blaine asked.
Clara looked confused.
“He said he couldn't.”
“Why?”
“Because there were too many people still inside.”
Blaine closed his eyes.
That sounded exactly like his brother.
Foolish.
Brave.
Infuriating.
Caleb.
“When did you last see him?”
“The night I left.”
“How long?”
“Five days.”
Blaine looked toward Ruth.
“You came from Red Hollow?”
Ruth shook her head.
“My husband and I used to run supplies through there before we understood what it was. He disappeared after asking too many questions.”
Blaine's expression darkened.
Ruth continued.
“I've spent four years helping people who get out.”
“You never went to the law?”
“I did.”
“Who?”
“Sheriff Bell.”
Blaine laughed without humor.
“There's your mistake.”
“I learned.”
May sat beside Clara.
“How did you get the ledger?”
Clara looked at her.
“Caleb told me to watch the cottonwood.”
“He knew about it?”
“He knew you were planning something.”
May stared.
“I never told him.”
“He said you asked too many questions about Silas's office.”
Despite everything, May smiled faintly.
“Apparently I was less subtle than I thought.”
Clara continued.
“He followed you when you escaped. Not all the way. He couldn't leave without exposing himself. But he saw you hide something.”
“Then why take it?”
“Because Rourke was coming.”
Clara held out the ledger.
“He told me if you didn't return, I had to bring this to Ruth.”
Blaine opened it.
Pages of coded entries filled the book.
Dates.
Initials.
Locations.
Payments.
Some written in black ink.
Others red.
May moved beside him.
“The red ones are people.”
Blaine's stomach turned.
He found M.
Then Mercer.
Caleb Mercer.
The entry was twelve pages back.
P-MERCER, C.
Transferred from Bitterroot Crossing.
Red Hollow.
No sale code.
No termination mark.
Instead, a handwritten note appeared beside the entry.
Useful. Literate. Retain.
Blaine felt sick with relief.
Six years.
His brother had been alive all six years.
Maybe still was.
“There's more,” May said.
She turned toward the back.
Silas kept lists of officials who received monthly payments.
Judge Harlan.
Deputy Nokes.
Railroad foreman Everett Shaw.
Banker George Mellor.
And dozens more.
Ruth whispered, “My God.”
“This can destroy him,” Blaine said.
May shook her head.
“Not by itself.”
He looked at her.
“Why not?”
“Because Silas owns the people who would receive it.”
“Territorial marshal?”
“Maybe.”
“Federal judge?”
“Maybe.”
“Newspapers?”
May looked at him.
“That is why he will kill everyone who has touched it.”
Silence.
Clara suddenly spoke.
“There are children at Red Hollow.”
Blaine looked over.
“Seven when I left.”
“How young?”
Clara hesitated.
“The youngest is eight.”
Ruth closed her eyes.
Blaine looked back at the ledger.
His desire to find Caleb had been immediate and overwhelming.
Now it became something larger.
May noticed.
“You can't go there alone.”
“I didn't say I was.”
“You were thinking it.”
Blaine didn't deny it.
Ruth stepped forward.
“Red Hollow is guarded.”
“I know.”
“No. You know rumors.”
She pointed to the ledger.
“I know the roads.”
Blaine studied her.
“How?”
“My husband mapped supply routes.”
She pulled a folded piece of cloth from beneath the table.
Inside was a hand-drawn map.
Two roads entered Red Hollow.
A third trail followed an abandoned mining ditch.
“What is that?”
“Old water channel.”
“Passable?”
“In winter?”
Ruth shrugged.
“Depends how badly you want to die.”
Blaine almost smiled.
May leaned over the map.
“This reaches the east wall.”
Clara nodded.
“Caleb uses the east wall.”
Blaine looked toward May.
“No.”
She hadn't said anything.
“I know that face.”
“What face?”
“The one where you intend to argue.”
“I have to come.”
“You have a fever.”
“I know the compound.”
“So does Clara.”
Clara immediately looked terrified.
Blaine saw it.
“No.”
He turned back to May.
“Neither of you is going inside.”
May's eyes hardened.
“You need somebody who understands the ledger.”
“I can carry a book.”
“You need somebody who knows Silas.”
“I know enough.”
“No, Blaine.”
It was the first time she had used his name without fear or hesitation.
“You know a symbol.”
She pointed toward her shoulder.
“I know the man.”
Blaine stared at her.
May continued.
“He has three houses inside Red Hollow. One is real. Two are designed so anyone breaking in goes where he wants them.”
“How do you know?”
“I cleaned them.”
Her voice was flat.
“I know which floorboards creak. I know where he keeps keys. I know which guards drink, which gamble, and which are afraid of him.”
“You escaped five days ago. Everything may have changed.”
“Not Silas.”
“Why?”
“Because powerful men rarely change habits until somebody proves they should.”
Blaine looked at her for a long moment.
Ruth broke the silence.
“She's right.”
He sighed.
“I liked you better when you had the shotgun pointed at me.”
Ruth smiled.
“Most men do.”
Outside, the wind picked up.
Then a horse neighed.
Everyone froze.
Ruth blew out the lantern.
Blaine moved toward the window.
Riders.
At least eight.
They had found the trapper hut.
Rourke's voice came from outside.
“May!”
Clara clutched May's hand.
Rourke laughed.
“We know you're in there.”
Blaine checked the rear door.
Ruth whispered, “There's a ravine behind the hut.”
“How steep?”
“Very.”
“Good.”
Rourke called again.
“Mr. Vane wants his property.”
May's expression changed.
Blaine saw the shame before the anger.
He stepped closer to the front door.
May grabbed him.
“What are you doing?”
“Buying time.”
“No.”
“You said they know what people love.”
“Yes.”
Blaine looked at Clara.
“Then let's make them think the ledger is what I love.”
He took the leather book.
May stared.
“You aren't giving it to them.”
“No.”
Blaine opened the stove.
Ruth understood.
She removed an old accounting book from a shelf.
They switched the covers.
Blaine wrapped the fake ledger in cloth.
Then he opened the front door just wide enough to be seen.
Rourke sat on horseback twenty yards away.
Tall.
Gray coat.
Scar along his jaw.
“Mercer,” Rourke said.
“Apparently we've met.”
“Not properly.”
“You know my brother?”
Rourke smiled.
“Oh, I know Caleb.”
Blaine's face remained motionless.
“Alive?”
Rourke tilted his head.
“For now.”
May watched Blaine's hand tighten around the wrapped book.
Rourke saw it.
“There it is.”
“You want it?”
“Very much.”
Blaine threw the package into the snow between them.
May held her breath.
Rourke dismounted.
He approached carefully.
Picked it up.
Blaine smiled.
Then the rear wall of the cabin erupted with motion as Ruth shoved open a hidden door.
“Now!”
They ran.
Rourke tore the wrapping away.
The first thing he saw was the title of Ruth's old livestock account book.
His roar followed them down the ravine.
Blaine, May, Ruth, and Clara disappeared into the trees.
But as they fled, May looked back.
Rourke was not chasing.
He was smiling.
That frightened her more.
Because hanging from his saddle was a familiar brown scarf.
Caleb's scarf.
And pinned to it was a note.
Blaine saw it too.
Three words were written in dark ink.
May you like
COME GET HIM.
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