Chapter 5: FOUR MEN AND ONE UNEXPECTED TRUTH
Geller arrived with three other riders.
Eli recognized him from descriptions immediately.
A scar crossed his chin.
His beard was red.
His hat was black.
His expression suggested the existence of other human beings had disappointed him personally.
He stopped his horse about ten yards from the porch.
The ranch looked deserted.
The front door remained shut.
The nearest corral stood empty.
Nothing moved.
Geller waited.
“Mercer!”
No answer.
One of his men laughed.
“Maybe the hermit finally understood the message.”
Geller spat into the dirt.
“He better have.”
He removed a folded document from his coat.
“Mercer!”
Silence.
Two men dismounted.
Eli watched from behind hay stacked inside the barn.
Chaska crouched near him.
Waya was nowhere in sight.
Neither was Serina.
Eli was beginning to discover that he disliked plans in which everybody else knew more than he did.
One man climbed the porch.
Another started around the back.
Geller remained mounted.
The fourth rider watched the road.
The man on the porch extended one hand toward the door.
An arrow hit the wooden frame a few inches from his fingers.
He jerked backward.
“What the—”
A second arrow landed in front of the man circling the building.
Waya’s voice came from a place nobody could identify.
“Stop.”
Both men froze.
Geller reached for his revolver.
Eli stepped out from the barn.
“Wouldn’t do that.”
Geller turned.
His gun stopped halfway free of the holster.
Eli already had the rifle aimed at him.
Geller’s mouth curved slowly.
“Well.”
“Afternoon.”
“Mercer.”
“That the name written on your paperwork?”
Geller held up the document.
“This is your last opportunity.”
“No.”
“You have not even read it.”
“I burned the previous one. Thought I would save us time.”
Geller stopped smiling.
“You do not understand what you have done.”
“I’ve heard that sentence more than once today.”
The porch man reached toward his weapon.
A small clay ball shattered beside his boots.
Powder exploded upward.
Not fire.
Smoke.
A heavy gray cloud swallowed him.
He stumbled backward coughing.
Serina appeared above the roofline.
Her satchel hung open beside her.
Eli looked up.
“What exactly do you keep in that bag?”
“Useful objects.”
Geller finally pulled his revolver.
Waya’s arrow sliced past.
It struck the brim of his black hat and sent it spinning into the dirt.
Geller stopped moving.
Waya stepped into view twenty yards away with another arrow already drawn.
“The next one goes lower.”
Nobody moved.
Chaska stepped out beside Eli.
Geller studied her.
Then Serina.
Then Waya.
Recognition did not enter his face.
Understanding did.
“This is not simply about Mercer.”
Chaska answered.
“It never was.”
Geller’s eyes settled on the silver showing near the opening of Serina’s satchel.
His face altered.
Eli saw it.
“You know that seal.”
Geller said nothing.
Eli’s rifle remained steady.
“You know what it is.”
Geller laughed under his breath.
“You people do not understand what that object is worth.”
Serina’s expression tightened.
“It is not something to sell.”
“Everything can be sold.”
Eli glanced toward the smoke above his chimney, where the contract had vanished into ash.
“Funny. Somebody already told me that.”
Geller looked at him.
“Voss does not care about your livestock.”
“I had begun to suspect that.”
“He does not care about this house.”
“That one hurts.”
“He wants what is underneath it.”
Eli’s eyes moved toward Chaska.
She showed no reaction.
Geller smiled.
“You did not tell him.”
Chaska’s jaw tightened.
Eli looked at her.
“Tell me what?”
Geller began laughing.
Then everything broke loose.
The man on the porch drew his gun.
Waya released her arrow.
It struck his hand hard enough to knock the weapon away.
The fourth rider kicked his horse forward.
Serina threw another clay sphere.
It burst nearby and filled the path with smoke, startling the horse without harming it.
The animal veered.
Its rider tumbled into the dirt.
Geller fired.
The gunshot came just before the wood beside Eli’s face exploded.
Eli returned fire by instinct.
His bullet struck Geller’s revolver and knocked it from his hand.
Chaska crossed the space between them and kicked the weapon farther away.
Waya had another arrow ready.
Serina descended from the roof.
Quiet returned in fragments.
One man groaned.
Another clutched his injured hand.
The horses stamped and snorted.
Eli walked straight toward Geller.
“What is under my house?”
Geller looked toward Chaska.
She said nothing.
Eli’s tone dropped.
“What is beneath my house?”
Geller wiped blood from the edge of his mouth.
“Ask your father.”
Eli grabbed his coat.
“My father is d.e.a.d.”
Geller smiled.
“Everybody keeps saying that.”
Eli released him.
For a heartbeat, the ranch went silent.
Serina whispered.
“No.”
Eli turned toward her.
Her face had lost its color.
Chaska stared at Geller.
Waya’s bow lowered a fraction.
Eli looked among all three women.
“What?”
Geller laughed quietly.
“You truly do not know.”
He stared straight at Eli.
“Your father did not die in 1858.”
Eli could not move.
Geller leaned toward him.
“ Samuel Mercer died six years ago—in a locked room owned by Harlan Voss. ”
Comments (0)