She looked toward Jeb. The documents I kept hidden. He nodded. We'll recover them. Sheriff Cole Reed closed the leather folder.
And this time they'll reach the territorial investigators. For the first time since that nightmare began, I believed justice might have a genuine chance. It was not a complete victory. The dead would not return. Taza would never walk beside his daughter again.
Rose would not return to me. But the truth was still alive. And as long as someone remained willing to defend it, hope had not died. Nia slowly turned towards the window. The smoke had finally cleared.
A new wind was moving across the valley. It seemed to carry a warning that the war was not over. But for the first time, its direction was beginning to change. Nearly a month passed before Nia could ride again. Her wound still forced her to walk carefully, but her eyes had regained the determination I had first seen on the railroad tracks.
Some mornings she stepped onto the porch at sunrise and silently watched the mountains. I never needed to ask what occupied her thoughts. Beyond that horizon, the Red Mesa Apache settlement was waiting. One morning, Jeb Mercer arrived with Nantan Kime and Naida, three representatives of the Apache Council. They had not come armed for war.
They carried themselves with the quiet dignity of people who had chosen to defend their community by another path. Nantan, the elder leading the group, clasped Nia's hand first. Then he turned toward me. She kept the promise she made to her father. Now we need her to continue the journey.
Nia lowered her eyes for several seconds. She understood exactly what the invitation meant. The evidence recovered by Jeb, combined with the documents found among Silas Crow's belongings, had finally reached the territorial investigators. The inquiry was only beginning, but for the first time, the Red Canyon Railroad Board could no longer hide behind hired killers and carefully constructed lies. They still needed someone capable of speaking both languages.
Someone who understood the Apache world, but also knew how the white man's laws worked. Everyone knew that person was Nia. When Nantan, Ke and Nita withdrew to wait beside their horses, Nia remained near the fence surrounding my property. I approached her slowly. I knew this moment would come.
A sad smile touched her face. So did I. The wind stirred the dry grass between us. For several moments, neither of us could find the right words. At last, Nia spoke.
When I was I was lying across those tracks, I thought I would die before finishing my father's work. She raised her eyes to mine. Now I have the chance to finish it. I nodded. Then you have to take it.
She fell silent. A moment later, she asked the question she had been holding back for several days. What about you? I looked toward my battered old cabin. The walls had been repaired.