Chapter 4: TEN YEARS RETURNED IN A SINGLE MOMENT
No one moved.
For several seconds, even Gault seemed unimportant.
Caden crossed the space between himself and Jesse.
He stopped three feet away.
Jesse looked older.
Of course he did.
So did Caden.
The fact hurt in a way he had never anticipated.
They had lost each other's youth.
A decade stood between them like an abandoned house.
Caden lifted one hand.
Stopped halfway.
Jesse's eyes were already wet.
“You look terrible.”
Caden laughed.
Then punched him.
Jesse staggered.
Mara drew in a breath.
Hale winced.
Jesse rubbed his jaw.
“I suppose some of that was earned.”
Caden hit him again.
This time Jesse remained standing.
“You lived.”
“Yes.”
“You lived.”
“Yes.”
“Ten years.”
“I know.”
“You miserable son of a—”
Then Caden grabbed him.
The embrace nearly knocked them both into the street.
Jesse held him with the same force.
Caden buried his face against his friend's shoulder.
For ten years, Jesse had existed in his mind beneath cold desert stars.
Now there was a heartbeat against his chest.
Real.
Strong.
Alive.
Caden began crying.
He did not care who saw.
Jesse cried too.
Sometimes grief does not simply disappear when the dead return. Sometimes it splits open and shows you how much of your own life you buried beside them.
“I thought I killed you,” Caden whispered.
“I thought you abandoned me.”
“They told me you were dead.”
“They told me you knew I survived.”
They stepped apart.
Caden let out a broken laugh.
“Gault.”
Jesse nodded.
“Gault.”
They turned.
Aldrick Gault had vanished.
So had Creel.
The sheriff remained.
His weapon was now lying in the road.
Mara pointed toward the northern alley.
“They ran.”
Jesse cursed.
Hale said, “He'll go for the rail depot.”
Caden picked up his revolver.
Jesse grabbed his arm.
“No.”
Caden stared.
“No?”
“We have the documents now.”
“He ordered men to kill me.”
“I noticed.”
“He stole land from twenty-three families.”
“I've spent ten years proving it.”
“Then let's finish the matter.”
Jesse tightened his grip.
“By allowing the law to finish it.”
Caden laughed sharply.
“The law?”
Jesse flinched.
That was enough.
Caden saw the old divide between them.
Not the scar from the bullet.
Something deeper.
Jesse had always believed institutions could be corrected.
Caden had always suspected institutions were simply buildings people used to hide behind.
Mara approached them.
“Gault has another copy of the forged surveys.”
Jesse looked at her.
“Where?”
“In his ledger.”
Hale nodded.
“He keeps that ledger with him whenever he travels.”
“If he destroys it, we still have enough evidence,” Jesse said.
Mara shook her head.
“No. Enough to restore these twenty-three properties, yes. Not enough to show that every other debt was created through the same fraud.”
Caden looked north.
A line of dust was rising beyond the last buildings.
Gault was escaping.
Twenty-three families might recover what had been taken.
Dozens of others could remain trapped.
Caden mounted the nearest horse.
Jesse seized the bridle.
“Don't do this.”
Caden looked down at him.
“For ten years I ran because I believed standing still had killed you.”
Jesse said nothing.
Caden's voice softened.
“I'm finished running.”
Mara swung onto Sombra.
“I'll go.”
Jesse stared at her.
“Mara.”
She looked back.
Something moved between them that Caden did not yet understand.
Concern.
Affection.
Shared history.
Jesse sighed.
“I've spent years telling you not to do exactly this.”
“And how successful were you?”
“Not very.”
“Then perhaps learn from the evidence.”
Despite himself, Caden nearly smiled.
They rode north.
They found Gault five miles outside town.
His horse had gone lame.
Creel was there.
So was Orson Bell.
The name from Jesse's letter.
The man who had fired the shot near Prescott ten years earlier.
Bell was older.
Thicker around the waist.
His beard had gone gray.
But Caden knew those eyes.
He had seen them on that summer night.
Bell recognized him too.
“Well,” Bell said, “the desert is crowded with ghosts today.”
Caden dismounted.
Mara remained mounted with her rifle ready.
Gault looked more offended than frightened.
“You have the land order. What else could you possibly want?”
“Your ledger.”
Gault laughed.
“You truly believe all of this ends because someone has the correct papers?”
“It began with papers.”
“That may be the first intelligent thing you've said.”
Creel stood several yards away.
Uncertain.
Caden noticed it.
Gault noticed as well.
“Creel.”
The deputy looked over.
“Shoot Roark.”
Creel did not move.
Gault's voice hardened.
“I said shoot him.”
Creel looked toward Caden.
Then Mara.
Then Bell.
Then the road back toward Maricopa Wells.
“No.”
Gault stared at him.
Creel slowly unbuckled his gun belt.
It fell into the dust.
“I am finished solving your problems.”
Gault's expression became terrifyingly calm.
“You have no understanding of what you've just done.”
Creel gave a weak laugh.
“For six years, those words kept me working for you.”
He stepped away.
“They don't anymore.”
Bell spat into the dirt.
“Coward.”
Creel looked at him.
“No. Just very late.”
Gault slipped one hand toward the inside of his coat.
Mara's rifle rose.
“Don't.”
He stopped.
Caden stepped closer.
“The ledger.”
Hatred filled Gault's eyes.
Then his expression changed.
He smiled.
“Ask her.”
Caden stopped.
“Ask who?”
Gault nodded toward Mara.
“Ask your rescuer why she actually followed you.”
Mara's face hardened.
“Don't.”
Gault's smile widened.
Another secret.
Another hidden door.
Caden felt tired merely recognizing it.
“I'm becoming exhausted by people knowing pieces of my life before I do.”
Mara lowered her rifle slightly.
“Caden—”
Gault laughed.
“She told you Jesse sent her, didn't she?”
“Yes.”
“That happens to be true.”
Mara's eyes remained fixed on him.
“But it isn't the entire truth,” Gault said.
“Mara.”
“Do not listen to him.”
“Then tell me yourself.”
Silence.
Bell began shifting sideways.
Mara instantly moved the rifle toward him.
“Stay.”
He stopped.
Caden faced her.
“Tell me.”
The woman who had hauled him from Arroyo Seco now looked frightened.
Not of the riflemen.
Of this.
“She followed you because Jesse asked her to.”
Gault said, “And because of your name.”
Caden frowned.
“My name?”
Gault's eyes gleamed.
“Roark.”
Mara closed her eyes.
Gault continued.
“The twenty-three families named in that federal order do not hold equal claims. One of the properties is larger than all the others combined.”
Caden remembered what Hale had told him.
Everything Gault controlled came back to water.
Roads were useful.
Freight routes were profitable.
Debt was powerful.
But water controlled everything.
Gault spoke quietly.
“The Roark parcel contains the underground spring that feeds nearly half the South Gila Basin.”
Caden stared at him.
“I don't own property.”
“No,” Gault replied. “Your father did.”
Caden felt the blood leave his face.
“My father died when I was twelve.”
“Yes.”
“He owned nothing.”
“That is what someone told you.”
Mara lowered her rifle.
Caden turned toward her.
She spoke quietly.
“The federal investigation uncovered the original claim.”
“No.”
“Your father filed it in 1859.”
“No.”
“The title passed to you.”
Gault smiled.
“You were never simply carrying the order, Caden. You are the twenty-third family named in it.”
The desert went still.
Caden remembered the papers in the envelope.
The pages of names.
He had not read beyond the first portion.
Jesse's letter had shattered his attention.
“My name is there?”
Mara nodded.
“Yes.”
Caden laughed once in disbelief.
“So men were trying to kill me because I carried a document that gave me land?”
Gault shook his head.
“Not simply because you carried it.”
Caden looked at him.
“Then what?”
“Because the Roark claim cannot legally be transferred while a living heir remains who has not signed.”
The meaning came slowly.
Caden's stomach turned.
“If I die…”
A voice came from behind them.
“The parcel enters disputed estate status.”
Everyone turned.
Jesse stood perhaps twenty yards away.
Hale was with him.
Two federal marshals stood nearby.
He had followed them after all.
Jesse continued.
“And Gault's existing water lease remains valid until the estate dispute is resolved.”
Caden turned back toward Gault.
“So that is why you selected me.”
Gault's smile disappeared.
“I did not select you.”
Caden frowned.
“Hale did.”
Gault looked at Hale.
“I told him to hire a rider no one would miss. I did not know who Roark was until Creel brought me the employment register.”
Hale stepped forward.
“I knew.”
Caden stared at him.
Hale looked ashamed.
“I knew the name from Jesse's letters.”
“You picked me because I was the heir.”
“Partly.”
“Partly?”
Hale's voice cracked.
“I thought if the grant could reach you before Gault discovered who you were, Jesse would finally have the chance to explain everything.”
“You could have told me at Redstone.”
“Yes.”
“You could have placed that envelope on the counter and said, Caden, these papers restore your father's land.”
“Yes.”
“Instead you sent me into Arroyo Seco.”
Hale lowered his eyes.
“Yes.”
Caden looked away.
Yet another man deciding what was best for him.
Another secret.
Another attempt to protect him by refusing to trust him with the truth.
He felt too exhausted to remain furious.
Jesse came closer.
“I didn't know Hale planned to do that.”
Caden studied him.
“I believe you.”
Relief appeared in Jesse's face.
Caden added, “I'm still angry with you.”
“I assumed so.”
“Probably for several years.”
“I waited ten. I can manage a few more.”
Caden smiled despite himself.
Gault used the distraction.
His hand flashed toward his coat.
Bell reached for his weapon too.
Two shots sounded almost together.
Caden turned.
Bell fell.
Gault remained upright.
For one confused second, nobody understood what had happened.
Then Gault looked down.
Blood spread across his vest.
Bell's revolver lay smoking in the dust.
Bell stared up in disbelief.
“I told you,” he gasped, “I was finished cleaning up your mess.”
Gault collapsed.
The marshals rushed forward.
Bell's face tightened with pain.
Caden stared at the man who had shot Jesse ten years earlier.
Bell looked back at him.
“I didn't intend to kill him.”
Jesse said, “You almost did.”
Bell closed his eyes.
“I know.”
The marshals restrained him.
Gault remained conscious, though his skin had gone pale.
He looked at Caden.
“You imagine this restores your life?”
Caden stared back.
Gault smiled weakly.
“Land cannot give you those ten years.”
“No.”
“Money won't.”
“No.”
“Nothing can.”
Caden turned his eyes toward Jesse.
Toward Mara.
Toward the sun descending over the desert.
Then he looked back at the man who had created an empire by persuading people that anything stolen from them could never truly be recovered.
“You're right.”
Gault's smile strengthened.
Then Caden finished.
“But the years I have left don't belong to the ten I lost.”
The smile vanished from Gault's face.
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