"That doesn't make him untouchable. But it means we need evidence strong enough to withstand careful challenge."
She nodded slowly.
The sheriff examined the notes.
"These survey records should be reviewed by qualified people with access to official originals."
Clara leaned forward.
"Can that be arranged?"
"I can write to the appropriate territorial officials and recommend an independent review. Mr. Finch may also be able to advise on the land claims."
Caleb looked toward Clara.
She seemed frightened.
But determined.
Then Amos asked something unexpected.
"Miss Whitmore, why did you come to this particular town?"
She hesitated.
"Because my father's notes pointed here."
He nodded.
"Did he ever mention Thomas Hart?"
Caleb went still.
Clara turned toward him.
The sheriff noticed.
For a moment, the room became quiet.
Then Clara answered.
"His name appears in the field books."
Amos looked toward Caleb.
The mountain man's expression had changed completely.
The sheriff sighed.
"I wondered whether that might happen."
Caleb's voice became low.
"What are you saying?"
Amos hesitated.
Then looked toward the door.
For several seconds, he seemed to consider how much he should reveal.
Finally, he reached into a drawer.
Removed a worn envelope.
And placed it on the desk.
Caleb stared.
"What is that?"
The sheriff looked toward him.
"Something your brother gave me before he died."
For a moment, Caleb couldn't breathe.
Then he whispered, "You had a letter from Thomas?"
Amos nodded slowly.
Caleb stood so abruptly that his chair scraped against the floor.
"Five years?"
The sheriff remained seated.
"Caleb."
"Five years, Amos?"
Clara stood.
She moved closer to Caleb.
His hands were shaking.
The sheriff looked toward him with an expression of profound regret.
"I didn't know whether it meant anything."
Caleb stared.
His voice broke.
"You knew I'd spent months searching for answers."
Amos closed his eyes.
"I know."
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Caleb looked toward the envelope.
"Open it."
The sheriff hesitated.
Caleb's voice hardened.
"Now."
Amos opened the envelope.
Inside was a single folded sheet.
The paper had yellowed.
The handwriting was hurried.
But Caleb recognized it immediately.
Thomas.
His younger brother.
The last words he had written before his death.
Caleb reached toward the page.
For a moment, his fingers trembled so badly that he could barely hold it.
Then he began reading.