She looked.
“You are becoming irritating.”
“I was irritating before being shot.”
“I believe it.”
She stepped toward door.
The cowboy said:
“Wait.”
She turned.
He reached beside bed and held out a revolver.
She frowned.
“I have rifle.”
“Take both.”
“I know how to shoot.”
“I assumed.”
She took it.
“Do not die while I’m gone.”
He looked at her.
“That would ruin courtship.”
Her face warmed.
She opened door before he could see.
The ride took ninety minutes.
Snow softened every sound.
The woman followed creek.
At the larch, she dismounted.
Found roots.
One stone.
Two.
Third.
She dug.
Her fingers numbed inside gloves.
At first nothing.
Then shovel struck metal.
A small iron box.
Rust.
Locked.
She remembered her brother’s pocketknife trick from childhood.
The lock had already been broken.
Inside were oilskin papers.
Survey maps.
Letters.
Copies of land-office filings.
A list of payments to county officials.
And a photograph.
Her brother and the cowboy standing side by side outside a freight station.
Both younger.
Both smiling.
On the back:
If we live through this, he owes me whiskey.
The woman stared.
Then laughed through tears.
Her brother.
Alive in ink.
She tucked everything away.
A sound came from the trees.
Horse.
The woman froze.
Not hers.
She reached for rifle.
A man appeared on trail.
Gray coat.
Cattle-company badge.
Foreman.
She recognized him.
He had offered to buy her spring.
He stopped when he saw shovel.
Then the box.
His face changed.
“Ma’am.”
She lifted rifle.
“Stay there.”
He smiled.
“You misunderstand.”
“I doubt it.”
“I was checking fences.”
“Three miles from your nearest fence?”
The foreman looked toward box.
“That belongs to company.”
“My family name is on it.”
“Your brother stole documents.”
“My brother was killed.”
His smile disappeared.
“Careful.”
The woman raised rifle higher.
“About what?”
“Accusations.”
“You’re standing over his hidden evidence.”
“Coincidence.”
She almost laughed.
“Seems mountain full of coincidences.”
The foreman moved hand toward coat.
The woman cocked rifle.
“Don’t.”
He stopped.
For several seconds they stared.
Then another horse sounded behind him.
The woman’s stomach dropped.
Two men.
Maybe more.
The foreman smiled again.