She pointed farther out.
Another print.
Horse.
One shoe damaged at the outer edge.
“Someone was here.”
Ethan stood.
The barn door hung open.
He had closed it.
He ran inside.
Nothing obvious missing.
Tools.
Harness.
Feed.
Then he saw the north-wall cabinet.
Open.
His land papers were inside.
Or had been.
He crossed the room.
Empty.
Ethan’s stomach turned cold.
Nahimana entered.
“What?”
“Deed.”
“Gone?”
“Yes.”
She studied the cabinet.
“No broken lock.”
“I don’t lock it.”
“Then someone knew where to look.”
Ethan turned.
Outside, cattle shifted restlessly.
Water.
He shoved the problem aside.
“First the spring.”
They rode upstream.
The sun vanished.
Nahimana found the obstruction before Ethan did.
Someone had jammed leather and cloth into the narrow intake channel beneath stones.
Deliberate.
Ethan pulled it free.
Water surged.
Nahimana held up the leather.
Part of a glove.
Stamped near the wrist.
TUCSON MERCANTILE CO.
Ethan stared.
Half the territory bought goods there.
Not useful.
Still.
Sabotage.
Someone wanted his cattle thirsty.
Someone wanted his deed.
Nahimana said, “Who wants your land?”
“No one.”
She gave him a look.
“Someone stole the paper proving it is yours.”
“Fine. Somebody.”
“Who?”
Ethan thought.
Neighbor south: Amos Bell. Too poor.
East: government land.
West: dry canyon.
North—
Harlan Briggs.
Ethan’s jaw tightened.
Nahimana noticed.
“There.”
“What?”
“You thought of somebody.”
“Briggs.”
“Who is Briggs?”
“A cattle buyer.”
“Neighbor?”
“Owns land six miles north.”
“Does he want yours?”
“He offered last year.”
“How much?”
“Not enough.”
“You refused.”
“Yes.”
“Did he threaten you?”
Ethan hesitated.
“He said drought would change my mind.”
Nahimana looked at the sabotaged spring.
“Perhaps he is impatient.”
They returned after dark.
Ethan cooked beans.
Badly.
Nahimana watched from the table.
“You said you could cook.”
“I never said that.”
“My father said ranchers cook.”
“Your father lies.”
She smiled.
That felt like progress.
They ate.
The ranch house had one bedroom.
One bed.
Ethan noticed Nahimana noticing.
“I can sleep in the barn.”
“No.”
He frowned.
“No?”
“It is your house.”
“I’m not putting you on the floor.”