Love.
No.
Too soon.
Ridiculous.
They had known each other less than two weeks.
Yet something in him knew the word before his caution agreed.
Clara noticed his stare.
“What?”
Tomás shook his head.
“Nothing.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“That usually means something.”
He smiled.
“Later.”
She did not press.
For once.
The next morning, Silas Mercer came to them with a new offer.
Five thousand dollars.
Tomás nearly laughed.
Clara invited him inside.
That surprised both men.
Coffee sat on the table.
Railway papers remained hidden beneath a floorboard.
Silas smiled.
“I’m glad reason finally arrived.”
Clara poured coffee.
“So are we.”
Tomás sat opposite.
Silas placed a purchase contract on the table.
“Five thousand. Cash equivalent through Territorial Bank.”
Clara read.
Slowly.
Silas became impatient.
“Standard language.”
“Nothing is standard when someone says it is.”
Tomás hid a smile.
Clara reached the water rights clause.
There.
All springs.
Surface and subsurface flow.
Irrigation channels.
Future commercial water allocations.
Silas wanted everything.
She looked up.
“Why include railway rights?”
Silas froze for perhaps half a second.
Then smiled.
“Boilerplate.”
“Railways use water.”
“So do cattle.”
“Why specifically railway?”
“Lawyer language.”
Clara nodded.
“Interesting.”
Silas looked at Tomás.
“Sign and your bank troubles end.”
Tomás picked up the pen.
Silas relaxed.
Clara did not move.
Tomás touched pen to paper.
Then asked, “What does the railway pay?”
Silas went still.
Tomás looked up.
Clara watched Silas’s face.
That was enough.
“What railway?”
Tomás smiled.
“The one you forged my signature for.”
Silas’s face emptied.
Clara slid certified copies across the table.
For the first time since she met him, Silas Mercer looked genuinely afraid.
Tomás leaned back.
“Small town.”
Silas looked at the papers.
Then toward the door.
Clara noticed.
“Running would look bad.”
His eyes moved toward her.
“You think these prove anything?”
“Forgery.”
“I never signed them.”
“Your name is on them.”
“So?”
Tomás said, “Harlan witnessed.”
Silas laughed.
“Then perhaps Harlan forged it.”
That was interesting.
Clara watched.
Silas was already preparing to sacrifice the banker.
“Why would he?”
Silas shrugged.
“You tell me.”
Tomás’s hands curled.
Clara remained calm.
“Your foreman’s syringe was found at our corral.”
“Former foreman.”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“Railroad contract.”
“I invest.”
“Poisoned cattle.”
“Drought.”
“Shots fired near survey stakes.”
Silas looked genuinely surprised.
Clara saw it.
Tomás did not.
“Shots?”
“Yes.”
Silas frowned.
“When?”
“Two days ago.”