She was perhaps twenty-five, with dark eyes that seemed to weigh every movement he made. Her hair had partly escaped its braid, and there were deep rope marks around her wrists.
"My name's Silas Mercer."
"I heard him say it."
"What's yours?"
"Mara Greyhawk."
He nodded toward her wrists.
"May I cut you loose?"
Mara looked at him for a long moment.
Then lowered the pistol.
"Slowly."
Silas removed his knife.
He cut the rope.
Mara stepped away from the tree.
For a second, she simply stood there rubbing circulation back into her hands.
Then her knees weakened.
Silas moved instinctively.
She raised the pistol again.
"I said don't."
He stopped.
Mara caught herself against the tree.
"I'm fine."
"You're bleeding."
"So are you."
Silas looked down.
A bullet had grazed his ribs beneath the coat.
He had not noticed.
"Fair."
Mara retrieved her shawl.
Silas studied the wagon.
"What did Rourke want?"
She didn't answer.
"Something about a ledger."
Still nothing.
"Judge Halbrook's involved."
That got a reaction.
Mara's eyes sharpened.
"How much do you know about Nathaniel Halbrook?"
"Enough not to trust him."
"That isn't enough."
She walked toward the wagon.
Inside were several empty crates, two water barrels, and a broken wooden box.
Mara opened the box.
Nothing.
Her face tightened.
"They took it."
"What?"
"My father's satchel."
Silas looked toward the eastern canyon.
"Was the ledger inside?"
"No."
"Then what was?"
"A map."
Silas frowned.
"To what?"
Mara turned toward him.
"To the reason Judge Halbrook has killed people for seven years."
Chapter Two — The Judge Who Owned the Law
They left Red Mesa before sunset.
Mara refused Silas's horse until he pointed out that one of Rourke's men had abandoned a bay mare nearby.
She mounted without help.
Silas noticed immediately that she rode better than most men he'd known.
"You look surprised," she said.
"I was deciding whether the horse should be worried."
The corner of her mouth moved.
Almost a smile.
They traveled north until the canyon widened into rough desert country. The summer heat weakened as the sun fell, leaving long shadows beneath the rocks.
Silas's wound began hurting.
Mara noticed.
"You need to stop."
"I've had worse."
"Men say that immediately before falling off horses."
Silas looked at her.
"You always this encouraging?"
"No."
She pointed toward a line of cottonwoods.
"Water."
They reached a narrow spring sheltered beneath red cliffs.
Mara dismounted.
Silas barely made it off the horse before his knees protested.
She said nothing.
That somehow made it worse.
He removed his coat and shirt.
The bullet had cut a deep groove along his left side.
Mara knelt beside the spring and soaked a clean cloth.
"This will hurt."
"I gathered."
She pressed it against the wound.
Silas inhaled sharply.
Mara looked at him.
"Had worse?"
"Beginning to reconsider."
She cleaned the blood away.
Her hands were steady.
Silas noticed the bruises around her wrists.
"You should clean those too."
"I will."
"When?"
"When you stop bleeding on everything."
Silas almost laughed.
For several minutes, only water and wind filled the silence.
Finally, Mara tied the bandage.
Silas leaned against the rock.
"Tell me about Halbrook."
She sat opposite him.
"Nathaniel Halbrook came to this territory twelve years ago. He arrived with money, political friends, and promises about bringing law to the mining camps."
"I know that part."
"He bought land."
"A lot of it."
"He stole more."
Silas said nothing.
Mara continued.
"My father, Elias Greyhawk, worked as a surveyor and translator. He knew these mountains better than the men who hired him. Halbrook used him when mining companies needed routes through Apache land or when Army officers needed water."
Her expression hardened.
"Father believed maps were neutral. He learned otherwise."
"What happened?"
"Seven years ago, Halbrook hired him to survey a valley west of Blackstone Ridge. The judge claimed he wanted a road."
"He didn't."
"No."
Mara drew a line in the dirt with one finger.
"The valley contained water."
Silas waited.
"Not a spring. An underground river."
That surprised him.
"In this country?"
"My father found a limestone basin beneath the ridge. Enough water to support ranches, mining camps, maybe a town."
Silas understood.
"Land value."
"Everything changes if you control water."
"And Halbrook wanted it."
"He quietly purchased worthless parcels surrounding the valley through shell companies. Then he needed everyone else removed."
Silas's face hardened.
"Removed how?"
"Some sold after threats. Some were accused of crimes. Some lost grazing rights in Halbrook's court."
She looked toward the dying light.
"Some disappeared."
Silas thought about the judge's reputation.
"Your father kept records."
"Yes."
"The ledger."
Mara nodded.
"He began copying names. Land transfers. Payments to deputies. Seizures. Men hired by Rourke. Everything."
"And the map?"
"Shows the underground water entrance and the land Halbrook secretly owns."
Silas frowned.
"Why would Halbrook need the map if he already knows the valley?"
"He knows the general location. Not the entrance."
Mara looked at him.
"My father changed the markings after he realized what Halbrook intended."
Silas leaned forward.
"Changed them how?"
"He made two maps."
"One false."
"Maybe both."
Silas stared.
Mara gave the faintest smile.
"Father doesn't trust paper."
Silas admired the old man already.
"Where is he?"
"I don't know."
"Rourke said Halbrook wants him alive."
"For now."
She looked down at her wrists.
"They took us three nights ago. Father distracted them so I could run. I didn't get far."
Silas's jaw tightened.
"And Rourke separated you."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because Halbrook believes my father will talk if they threaten me."
Silas understood why Rourke had kept her alive.
Mara looked at him.
"Now answer my question."
"What question?"
"Why did Rourke know your name?"
Silas stared toward the spring.
He had been hoping she would forget.
She hadn't.
"Five years ago, I worked as a deputy marshal in New Mexico Territory."
Mara said nothing.
"Rourke was running guns across the border."
"You arrested him?"
"I tried."
"What happened?"
Silas rubbed his jaw.
"The sheriff I worked under took money from him."
Mara's expression didn't change.
"Rourke walked."
"And you?"