Brigg blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Eagle Rock? That mine’s been shut for years. Folks say it’s picked clean.”
“They’re wrong,” Anthony said. “There’s ore there. Rich ore. Enough to matter. Enough to draw the railroad’s eye. Vanburgh wants it bad, and he’ll burn this county to ash to claim it. That’s why he’s bought the judge, the sheriff, and anyone fool enough to wear his brand. That’s why he wants me gone.”
The deputy’s brow furrowed, his boots shifting in the dirt. He let out a long whistle. “Well, hell,” he said, sighing. “That does explain a lot.”
“Now you see why I needed you,” Anthony said. “Why I risked her going into town. This ain’t about some brawl in a saloon or me beating on one of Vanburgh’s men. It’s bigger. It’s Eagle Rock. It’s the railroad. And it’s Vanburgh’s hunger.”
Brigg rubbed his chin, pacing a step. “You’re asking a lot, Hawk. If I stand with you, I’m standing against the sheriff. Against the judge. Against Vanburgh himself.”
“You already been standing against them,” Anthony said. “Else you wouldn’t be here.”
The deputy let out a humorless chuckle. “Maybe. But you ain’t answered one thing yet. What exactly do you want from me?”
“I want to know if the law in this county’s got any spine left,” Anthony said. “I want someone who’ll stand when the storm comes. And it’s coming. You’ve seen it. You’ve heard it in town.”
Brigg folded his arms, his voice careful. “And if I stand? If I put my neck out with you...what then? You got a plan, or just a mine and a grudge?”
“Plan comes after survival,” he said. “Right now, I need to know if you’ll be there when Vanburgh makes his move. Because he will.”
Brigg didn’t answer. Not at once. His gaze turned toward the horizon, where the last light was fading. He was quiet for a long while. “These Shoshone you speak of,” he said. “You gave Tate to them. You think they’d stand with you?”
Anthony paused. He hadn’t expected Brigg to ask it outright.
“They might,” he said slowly. “They got reason enough. We are all from the same tribe. Our dead are still fresh in the ground. Vanburgh brought fire to their lodges, and Tate swung the torch. They want blood, and I gave them a start.”
Brigg nodded, more to himself than anyone. “If they’d stand with you, that’s more than just another rifle at your side,” the deputy said. “That’s a force Vanburgh can’t just brush off. But they’ll want more than vengeance, Hawk.”
“I don’t break my word,” Anthony said. “They’ll get what I am prepared to give.”
For a long moment, Brigg stared at Anthony. He was weighing every line in his face and every word in his tone. At last, he nodded once. “All right,” he said. “You’ve had your say. But know this, Hawk...if I step your way, there ain’t no turning back. And if you’re lying...if you’re just another outlaw looking to bleed this county for your own stake...I’ll put you down myself.”
Anthony didn’t flinch. “Fair enough, Deputy.”
Chapter 25
Anthony sat crouched by the last flicker of the campfire, turning the embers with a stick. He hadn’t slept more than a handful of hours, and what little rest he had taken had been restless, torn by thoughts of Vanburgh’s reach and Tate’s smug smile.
Gold meant nothing to him. Not when it was weighed against lives. But Vanburgh and men like him wielded money like a whip, and Anthony knew it. The cost was only beginning.
Behind him, Abigail was awake too. She was binding her hair back as she tightened the straps of her weatherworn medical bag. Her face was calm, but her eyes carried the same exhaustion Anthony felt.
Deputy Thomas Brigg stood a few paces away, his broad frame outlined against the pale sky. His thumbs were hooked under his belt, and his boots were planted firmly in the dust. He wasn’t much for words that morning. His eyes were set on the horizon where a faint gray ribbon of smoke wound its way skyward.
Anthony rose, brushing ash from his hands. “We need to ride to the Shoshone,” he said. “If Vanburgh’s coming hard, we can’t face him alone.”
“As long as you think they’ll take our side,” the deputy replied.
“They’ve got more reason than you do,” Anthony said. “But we won’t know until we ask.”
Abigail drew closer, shrugging her jacket over her shoulders. “They trusted you when you gave them Tate,” she said. “If they’ve any chance of hearing us out again, it’ll be through you.”
Brigg scratched at his jaw. “I don’t like it. Riding into their camp uninvited, we’ll look like trouble sniffing for more trouble.”
Anthony’s eyes hardened, the fire in them quiet but undeniable. “It’s my mother’s tribe,” he said. “I won’t be uninvited.”
That ended it. They saddled their horses in silence, each lost in their own thoughts as the sun climbed. Hooves struck the hard earth as they rode out, and the cool air was sharp in their lungs.
Anthony felt like the whole situation was complicated. Yes, he was part of the Shoshone. Yes, they had lost the same things. Yes, it was their camp that had been burned that day.
