When you get inside, find a way to get word to me.

Any signal.

A light in the east window at night means you’re safe.

No light means you need help.

East window.

Light means safe.

Emma repeated it like a prayer.

Jacob knelt down, taking both her small hands in his.

Baby, listen to me.

You’re the bravest person I’ve ever known.

Braver than any soldier I served with.

But bravery doesn’t mean you can’t be scared.

It’s okay to be terrified.

You just can’t let them see it.

Like you taught me.

Face like stone, heart like fire.

That’s right.

Jacob pulled her into a fierce embrace.

I love you more than anything in this world, and I’m going to get you out of there.

Two days.

Just stay alive for 2 days.

I will.

Emma pulled back and Jacob saw tears on her cheeks, but her voice remained steady.

Go save Miss NY’s people, Papa.

I’ll handle Captain Drayton.

Then she was walking toward the fort.

A small figure in a torn dress, limping slightly to sell the story of her escape.

Jacob watched until she reached the gate, watched the guards react with surprise and alarm, watched them usher her inside.

The wooden gates closed.

Jacob stood there for another 5 minutes staring at those gates, fighting every instinct that screamed at him to charge in and take his daughter back.

Finally, he turned and walked back to where his horse waited.

He had work to do, a ride to prepare for, documents to protect, and if everything went according to plan, by Friday night, Emma would be free, and Drayton would be destroyed.

If that one word carried the weight of the world.

Inside Fort Verde, Emma was led through the parade ground by two young soldiers who looked at her with confusion and pity.

She kept her head down, playing the part of a traumatized child.

While her eyes cataloged everything, the number of soldiers, the locations of the stables and armory, the routine of the guards changing shifts.

They brought her to a building she remembered, the administrative office, and there, behind a polished desk, sat Captain Owen Drayton.

He looked exactly as Emma remembered, tall and handsome in his uniform, with that carefully trimmed mustache and those cold eyes that smiled while the rest of his face remained calculating.

When he saw Emma, genuine surprise crossed his features.

“Well,” he said, standing slowly, “this is unexpected.

Leave us,” he told the soldiers.

When they were alone, Drayton walked around the desk and crouched down to Emma’s level, the way adults do when trying to seem friendly to children.

“Emma Brener, I thought you were dead or with your father.

” “Papa is dead,” Emma said, letting her voice shake.

“The Apache lady killed him.

She was taking me to her brother, but I escaped last night.

I ran all night and I came here because I didn’t know where else to go.

Drayton studied her face.

Emma met his eyes, filling hers with tears that weren’t entirely fake.

The Apache woman, Nan Soya.

Where is she now? I don’t know.

She was taking me north to some camp in the mountains, but I got away before we got there.

How did you escape? She was sick.

Infection.

She had fever and she fell asleep while we were resting.

I took the horse and ran.

Drayton stood pacing.

Emma could see him processing this information, weighing its truthfulness.

Did she say anything about documents, papers she’d stolen? Emma shook her head.

She just kept saying her brother would protect her, that he’d help her fight the bad white men.

I see.

Drayton walked to the window, looking out at the fort.

Emma, I want you to understand something.

The Apache are dangerous.

They kidnapped you.

They killed your father.

They would have killed you, too, if you hadn’t been clever enough to escape.

Do you understand that? Yes, sir.

Good girl.

He turned back to her, that false smile returning.

You’re safe now.

We’ll take care of you.

Give you a nice room, food, clean clothes.

And in a few days, when you’ve recovered from your ordeal, we’ll ask you some questions about what you saw and heard.

important questions that will help us protect other children from suffering like you did.

“Okay,” Emma said quietly.

Drayton called the guards back in.

“Take Miss Brener to the guest quarters, see that she has everything she needs, and post a guard outside her door for her protection.

” The words were kind, but Emma understood the truth.

She was a prisoner again, just a more comfortable one.

They led her to a small room in the officer’s quarters.

It had a real bed, a wash basin, a window that looked east.

They brought her food and water and a clean dress.

True to Drayton’s word, they posted a guard outside.

Emma waited until she was alone, then went to the window.

She could see the eastern mountains in the distance.

Somewhere out there, Papa was preparing for tomorrow’s ride.

And somewhere in those mountains, Miss Nye was healing.

Emma touched the window glass.

Tomorrow night, if she was alive and safe, she’d put a candle here, a signal, a promise that she’d survived another day.

But first, she had work to do.

She spent the rest of Thursday being the perfect frightened child.

When Drayton visited again that evening, she answered his questions with careful lies.

Yes, she’d been terrified of the Apache.

No, she hadn’t understood most of what they said to each other.

Yes, she’d be willing to tell important men about her ordeal when the time came.

Drayton seemed satisfied.

He patted her head like she was a loyal dog, and left.

That night, Emma lay in bed listening to the sounds of the fort, soldiers talking, horses in the stables, the change of guard at midnight.

She mapped it all in her head, just like Mama had taught her to do with numbers and patterns.

And when everyone was asleep, she carefully placed a lit candle in the eastern window.

One day down, one to go.

Miles away, Jacob saw that tiny point of light through his spy glass and felt his chest loosened slightly.

Emma was alive.

She was safe for now.

He lowered the spy glass and turned to the map spread before him.

Tomorrow morning, Kanan would attack the supply convoy in Verde Valley.

The convoy was due to leave Fort Verie at 8:00, which meant by noon Drayton soldiers would be fully engaged.

That’s when Jacob would ride 80 miles to Prescott.

If he pushed hard, if the horse held up, he could make it by nightfall, get the documents to Thomas Garrett at the Arizona Sentinel, force publication before Drayton could stop it.

The plan was solid, but plans had a way of falling apart when bullets started flying.

Jacob checked his rifle one more time, then tried to sleep.

Dreams came, filled with fire and Caroline’s face and Emma’s small hand slipping from his grasp.

He woke before dawn, covered in sweat, Caroline’s name on his lips.

Friday morning arrived with the false promise of a beautiful day.

Clear sky, crisp air, the kind of morning that made you believe good things were possible.

At Fort Verie, Emma woke to the sound of unusual activity.

She went to her window and saw soldiers assembling in formation.

20 mounted cavalry armed and ready.

Captain Drayton was there giving orders.

Emma’s guard knocked and entered.

You need to stay in your room today, miss.

Captain’s orders? There’s a patchy trouble.

We’re sending men to deal with it.

What kind of trouble? Emma asked innocently.

Nothing for you to worry about.

Just stay inside where it’s safe.

The guard left.

Emma returned to the window and watched the cavalry ride out.

She counted 20 men, which meant 20er soldiers at the fort.

The plan was working.

[snorts] In Verde Valley, Conan Soy and 15 Apache warriors waited in ambush position.

They’d chosen the spot carefully.

A narrow canyon where the supply wagon would have to slow down.

Rock walls on both sides providing cover.

Takakota crouched beside Kanan.

Are you certain about this? Once we fire the first shot, there’s no going back.

There was no going back the moment Drayton decided our people were obstacles to be removed.

Kanan checked his rifle.

We’re not starting this war.

We’re just refusing to die quietly.

At 10 minutes past noon, they heard the wagon right on schedule.

20 cavalry as escort, just as their scout had reported.

The soldiers were relaxed, talking among themselves, not expecting trouble so close to the fort.

Kanan raised his hand, his warriors tensed, fingers on triggers.

The wagon entered the kill zone.

Kanan’s hand dropped.

The canyon erupted with gunfire, not aim to kill, but to scatter and confuse.

Bullets kicked up dirt around the horse’s hooves.

The animals panicked, rearing and bucking.

Soldiers shouted, trying to control their mounts while searching for targets they couldn’t see in the rocks above.

One warrior fired too close.

A soldier fell from his horse, clutching his arm.

Blood, but not fatal, but not.

The cavalry sergeant began organizing a retreat, recognizing a bad tactical position when he saw one.

Fall back to the fort.

Move.

The soldiers turned and fled, leaving the supply wagon behind.

Canaan’s warriors let them go, firing over their heads to encourage speed.

When the dust settled, the canyon was quiet, except for the nervous winnieing of the abandoned wagon horses.

No one killed, Takotus observed.

That was the agreement.

That was the agreement, Kanan confirmed.

Now Drayton will have to respond.

He’ll send every soldier he has to hunt us.

And while he does, Brener rides west.

You trust the white man to keep his word? Kanan didn’t answer immediately.

I trust that he loves his daughter.

And I trust that he hates Drayton.

Sometimes that’s enough.

At Fort Verie, the fleeing cavalry thundered through the gates in chaos.

Soldiers poured out of the barracks.

Drayton emerged from his office, face red with fury.

“Report!” he shouted.

The sergeant, out of breath, explained the ambush.

“Apache warriors, sir.

At least 20.

They’ve taken the supply wagon.

Corporal Matthews is wounded but alive.

Drayton’s hands clenched into fists.

They’re getting bolder or more desperate.

He turned to his second in command.

Lieutenant, assemble every available man.

We ride in 30 minutes.

I want those savages found and dealt with.

Sir, that will leave the fort with minimal defense.

There are only women and children here.

A skeleton crew will suffice.

Those warriors are our priority.

Drayton’s eyes were cold.

This ends today.

Emma, watching from her window, saw the fort empty out.

30 soldiers rode north toward Verie Valley.

That left maybe 10 men in the entire compound.

She waited until the dust settled, then knocked on her door.

The guard opened it.

He was young, barely 20, with kind eyes.

Please, Emma said.

I’m scared.

All those soldiers leaving.

What if the Apache come here? Don’t worry, miss.

We’ve got good men watching the walls.

You’re perfectly safe.

Could I see Captain Drayton? He makes me feel safer.

The guard hesitated.

The captain wrote out with the others.

Oh.

Emma let her lip tremble.

Is there anyone else? Someone important who could tell me everything will be okay? The guard thought.

Well, there’s Mr.

Killian.

He’s a civilian, but he’s important.

He’s in the captain’s office going through papers.

Emma’s heart leaped.

Harrison and Killian, here now.

Could I see him, please? Just for a minute.

The young guard clearly wanted to help this traumatized child.

I suppose that would be all right.

Come on.

He led Emma across the parade ground to the administrative building.

Inside, through the open door of Drayton’s office, Emma could see a man in expensive civilian clothes sitting at the desk sorting through documents.

“Mr.

Killian, sir,” the guard called.

Miss Brener was asking for some reassurance.

Would you mind? Killian looked up, annoyed at the interruption.

Then he saw Emma, and his expression shifted to something calculated and cold.

Of course, send her in.

He smiled at the guard.

I’ll watch over her.

You can return to your post.

The guard, relieved, left them alone.

Killian studied Emma like she was a piece on a chessboard.

So, the famous Emma Brener, I’ve heard so much about you.

Are you the man who’s going to buy the railroad land? Emma asked with childish directness.

Killian laughed.

Smart girl.

Yes, I am.

And you, little one, are worth quite a lot of money to me.

Your testimony about being kidnapped by Savage Apache will help justify our plans.

What if I don’t want to testify? Then you’ll have an unfortunate accident.

Children are so fragile.

He said it pleasantly like he was discussing the weather.

But I don’t think it will come to that.

I think you’ll cooperate because if you don’t, we’ll find your father and kill him too slowly.

Emma felt ice run through her veins, but she kept her face innocent, confused.

Papa’s already dead.

The Apache lady killed him.

Is he now? Killian leaned back in his chair.

Funny thing.

I don’t believe you.

I think your father is very much alive, and I think he’s probably planning something foolish right now, something heroic.

He stood and walked to the window, but he’s too late.

By tomorrow, every free Apache in this territory will be dead or on a reservation.

The land will be cleared.

The railroad will be built, and you, my dear, will either be a helpful witness or a tragic casualty.

The choice is yours.

” Emma’s mind raced.

She needed information.

Needed to know exactly what Drayton and Killian were planning.

“What’s happening tomorrow?” she asked.

Killian turned, surprised by the question.

Then he smiled.

“You’re a clever little thing, aren’t you? I suppose there’s no harm in telling you.

You won’t be able to warn anyone.

” He returned to the desk and pulled out a map.

Tomorrow, while Captain Drayton is chasing the warriors who attacked today’s convoy, a second force will attack the main Apache camp.

The one in the Mazatsal Mountains.

We’ve known its location for weeks.

50 soldiers, well-armed, will surround it at dawn and kill everyone inside.

Men, women, children, every last one.

Emma felt her stomach drop.

Miss Nye was at that camp, and Kanan’s warriors would be away chasing Drayton soldiers.

The camp would be defenseless.

But that’s murder, Emma whispered.

That’s business, Killian corrected.

And history will call it justice.

The official report will say the Apache fired first, that we acted in self-defense.

Who’s going to contradict us? The dead.

He was right.

If the camp was wiped out, there would be no witnesses to dispute the army’s version of events.

the massacre would be justified, the land cleared, and the railroad built on top of Apache graves.

Emma needed to get this information to her father, needed to warn Miss Nye.

But she was locked in the fort with guards at every exit.

Why are you telling me this? She asked.

Because I enjoy seeing hope die in people’s eyes.

Because I want you to understand how powerless you are.

And because even if you somehow manage to escape and warn someone, it wouldn’t matter.

The wheels are already in motion, nothing can stop what’s coming.

Killian called for the guard.

Take Miss Brener back to her room and this time lock the door.

I don’t want her wandering around.

As the guard led Emma away, she heard Killian talking to himself.

Tomorrow, just one more day and this whole mess is finished.

Back in her room with the door locked and a guard posted outside, Emma went to the window.

The sun was setting.

In a few hours, she was supposed to place the candle, the signal that she was safe.

But how could she signal when nothing was safe, when tomorrow everyone she cared about would be walking into a trap.

She looked out at the mountains, at the gathering darkness, and made a decision.

She couldn’t signal safety when there was no safety to be had.

She had to escape tonight.

Had to warn Papa and Miss Nye before dawn.

Emma examined her room with new eyes.

The window was too small for an adult, but she was 7 years old and small for her age.

She could fit.

The problem was the drop.

Second floor, 20 ft to the ground.

She tore strips from the bed sheet, knotting them together the way she’d seen sailors make rope.

Her small hands worked quickly, testing each knot.

When she was done, she had maybe 15 ft of makeshift rope, not enough to reach the ground, but enough to get her close.

Emma tied one end to the bed frame and tested it with her weight.

It held.

She waited until she heard the guard outside settle into his chair, waited until his breathing deepened with the boredom of a long watch.

Then she opened the window as quietly as possible, fed the rope of sheets outside, and climbed out.

The night air was cold against her skin.

Her arms shook as she lowered herself hand overhand down the wall.

The sheets cut into her palms.

Below the ground looked very far away.

She reached the end of the rope.

Still 8 ft up, Emma closed her eyes, said a prayer to her mother, and let go.

She hit the ground hard, rolling to absorb the impact the way she’d seen Papa do when he was teaching her to ride.

Pain shot through her ankle, but nothing felt broken.

She scrambled to her feet and ran, staying low, using the shadows.

The fort was quiet, most of the soldiers still out hunting Apache in the mountains.

She made it to the wall, found a spot where supply crates were stacked, and climbed.

At the top of the wall, she paused.

Beyond lay freedom and the chance to save everyone.

Behind lay the relative safety of her prison.

Emma didn’t hesitate.

She jumped.

This time she landed in soft dirt outside the fort.

She ran into the darkness, her injured ankle throbbing, her heart pounding, heading east toward the mountains where Papa said he’d be watching.

She ran for an hour, maybe more, until she saw a small campfire in the distance.

Papa, she called, no longer caring about stealth.

Papa, it’s me.

Jacob emerged from the shadows, rifle raised, then lowered when he saw his daughter limping toward him.

Emma, what happened? You were supposed to stay inside until tomorrow.

Emma gasped, collapsing into his arms.

They’re attacking the camp tomorrow at dawn.

50 soldiers.

They’re going to kill everyone.

Miss Nye, the women, the children, everyone.

Jacob felt the world shift beneath his feet.

Are you certain? Mister Killian told me.

He said the warriors would be away chasing Captain Drayton and the camp would be defenseless.

Papa, we have to warn them.

Jacob looked at the mountains calculating distances.

The Apache camp was 20 mi northeast.

Fort Verie was behind them.

Prescott and the newspaper were 80 miles west.

He couldn’t be in two places at once.

If he rode to warn the camp, the documents wouldn’t reach Prescott.

Drayton and Killian would win.

But if he rode to Prescott, Nalen and Canaan’s people would be slaughtered at dawn.

Emma saw the conflict in his face.

Papa, what do we do? Jacob made the only choice he could.

The only choice a man with any conscience could make.

We save them first.

Then we exposed the bastards who tried to murder them.

He lifted Emma onto his horse, swung up behind her, and turned the animal northeast.

They had maybe 6 hours until dawn.

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