Crowe had gone around them.
Nathan ran.
Tall Willow followed.
They reached the hidden ravine and found Crowe with five men standing before the stone entrance.
One attacker held a pick.
Another carried dynamite.
Crowe smiled.
“Found it.”
Nathan raised his rifle.
“It ends here.”
Crowe turned slowly.
“You'll die for old paper?”
Nathan looked toward the chamber.
“No.”
Crowe lifted his revolver.
Nathan continued.
“I'll fight because men like you think anything unguarded belongs to you.”
Crowe smiled.
“That's how the West works.”
“No.”
Nathan shook his head.
“That's how thieves explain themselves.”
Crowe raised the revolver.
Tall Willow moved beside Nathan.
Crowe glanced at her.
For the first time, genuine fear appeared in his expression.
“So the stories were true.”
Tall Willow said nothing.
Crowe's men backed away.
He did not.
“Do you know what those papers are worth?”
Nathan answered.
“To the families named in them?”
Crowe laughed.
“To banks. Railroads. Cattle companies.”
“That answers the question.”
Crowe's thumb pulled back the hammer.
Then the ground began to shake.
At first Nathan thought someone had lit more dynamite.
Then he heard it.
Horses.
Dozens.
The sound thundered through the stone corridor.
Crowe looked toward the entrance.
Morning Star appeared first.
Her gray horse came around the bend at full speed.
Behind her rode Sheriff Daniel Mercer and nearly thirty armed men.
Crowe lowered his revolver slightly.
The sheriff did not.
“Silas Crowe!”
The outlaw turned.
Mercer's rifle remained pointed directly at him.
“You're under arrest for murder, arson, robbery, and enough other things that I stopped writing before breakfast.”
Crowe looked at Morning Star.
She smiled.
“You ride slower than I expected.”
The sheriff glanced at her enormous horse.
“Ma'am, nobody in Wyoming rides like that.”
Crowe's men began dropping weapons.
One by one.
Crowe held his revolver longest.
Then he looked around and understood the valley had finally closed around him.
He let the gun fall.
The fight ended without another shot.
The truth about Widowmaker Hollow could no longer remain buried.
Nathan insisted on one condition before the documents left the chamber.
Copies had to be made.
Lots of them.
The originals would go to territorial authorities under armed guard, while certified copies would remain with county offices and affected families. Tall Willow initially resisted.
Nathan understood why.
Two hundred years of secrecy had kept the records alive.
But secrecy had also made the valley vulnerable.
“Promises shouldn't depend on three women and one tired cowboy forever,” he told her.
Tall Willow looked at the chests.
Then at Nathan.
“You are beginning to sound like a keeper.”
“I was afraid of that.”
The first wagon carrying documents left Widowmaker Hollow three weeks later.
Sheriff Mercer rode beside it.