“Who?”
The engineer opened a file.
Silas Mercer.
Of course.
But the document beneath Silas’s name contained something neither Tomás nor Clara expected.
A signed authorization.
Purportedly from Tomás.
Allowing Mercer to negotiate preliminary railway water rights on behalf of Dry Creek Ranch.
Tomás stared at the signature.
“That isn’t mine.”
Clara leaned closer.
It looked like his.
Very much like his.
But Tomás knew every movement of his own hand.
“No.”
The engineer’s face paled.
“You’re saying this is forged?”
“Yes.”
Clara looked toward the date.
Three months earlier.
Before cattle died.
Before her train arrived.
Before the worst of Tomás’s financial collapse.
Silas had not simply waited for the ranch to fail.
He had been preparing to own its most valuable resource before Tomás even knew the railroad wanted it.
Clara looked at the engineer.
“What was the proposed payment?”
The man hesitated.
Tomás stepped forward.
“If my signature was forged, you’re going to tell us everything.”
The engineer opened another document.
“Initial ten-year water access lease.”
“How much?”
The figure sat in black ink.
Tomás read it twice.
Then sat down.
Clara stared.
The railway had proposed an advance payment of six thousand dollars.
Plus annual lease payments.
Six thousand.
Tomás owed thirty-seven hundred.
The ranch had never been doomed.
Not financially.
Someone had merely needed him to believe it was.
Clara looked at Tomás.
His face had gone white.
“Tomás.”
He barely heard.
Every night without sleep.
Every animal sold.
Every meal reduced.
Every time he had looked at his father’s ranch and believed he had failed.
Silas knew.
Silas knew there was money under the spring.
Silas knew Tomás could save everything if he discovered the truth before foreclosure.
So the cattle died.
The bank pressure increased.
A forged signature appeared.
The pieces began to connect.
Then the engineer said something worse.
“Mr. Reed.”
Tomás looked up.
“There is another document.”
“What?”
The engineer removed one final page.
Clara read the heading.
TRANSFER UPON DEFAULT.
Her stomach tightened.
The agreement stated that if Dry Creek Ranch entered foreclosure before final railway execution, Silas Mercer’s company held an option to acquire the proposed water lease directly from the foreclosure purchaser.
Tomás whispered, “The bank.”
Clara looked at him.
“What?”
He stood.
“Silas doesn’t just know Harlan.”
The bank manager.
Tomás’s face hardened.
“He made a deal with him.”
The engineer said, “I don’t know anything about that.”
Clara looked at the option.
“Who witnessed this?”
The engineer turned the page.
Mr. Harlan’s signature.
Territorial Bank.
Clara closed her eyes for one second.
Then looked at her husband.
“We have them.”
Tomás stared at the forged papers.
“No.”
Her eyebrows lifted.
“Not yet.”
For once, he was the one saying it.
Clara smiled faintly.
He continued.
“We have evidence.”
“Better.”
“But not enough.”
She looked almost proud.
“Much better.”
Tomás smiled despite rage.
Then the engineer cleared his throat.
“There is something else you should know.”
Both turned.
“The railway board meets in nine days.”
“What happens then?”
“We choose the water station contract.”
Tomás’s chest tightened.
“And if we submit the real ownership?”
The engineer looked at the documents.
“You could negotiate directly.”
“How fast could payment happen?”
“Advance?”