Chapter 4
Anthony tipped his hat against the sun and headed toward the livery, already knowing he’d be back at that clinic when the day broke.
The town’s main street was thinning with traffic. A pair of wagons rattled toward the depot, wheels creaking under the load of ore sacks. Anthony’s eyes followed them. Vanburgh’s men, judging by the company brand painted on the sideboards.
They weren’t headed for the assay office, though. They were going toward the rail spur straight out of town. That meant the ore was already spoken for.
The thought gnawed at him as he rode out past the last weathered buildings, dust swirling beneath Spirit’s hooves. The stable boy wouldn’t see his horse today. Not while Anthony still needed her close.
After some time, the clinic appeared on the horizon. The door creaked when he stepped inside. Today, the air smelled faintly of dried sage.
Abigail was bent over a basin with her sleeves rolled up and her hands wet. She looked up, a loose strand of hair brushing her cheek.
“You came early,” she said, drying her hands on a cloth.
“Didn’t sleep much, ma’am,” Anthony said, removing his hat. “You said you had somethin’ to show me.”
“I do.” She gestured toward a side room. “Come in here. But keep your voice down. My patient in the back’s still resting.”
Anthony hesitated a moment, then nodded. “My name’s Anthony, by the way,” he said quietly. “Anthony Hawk.”
She glanced at him, her green eyes steady. “Abigail Monroe. Doctor . . . as you already know.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Doc Monroe,” Anthony said, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
“Likewise, Mr. Hawk,” she replied.
Anthony followed her into the small examination room. A table stood in the center, draped with a clean cloth. There was a glass jar of cloudy water on it, along with a small paper packet and a worn leather notebook.
“This is from the well near the Indian encampment,” Abigail said, tapping the jar, “where children have been falling ill. I drew it yesterday.”
Anthony stepped closer. “Looks muddy.”
“It’s not mud. Not exactly.” She reached for the paper packet and shook a little of its contents into a shallow dish. The powder shimmered dull gray in the light.
“What’s that?” Anthony asked.
“Residue after boiling the water down,” she said.
Abigail picked up a thin metal probe and nudged the powder.
“Heavy metals,” she added. “Arsenic, lead . . . and something else I can’t quite identify without better equipment.”
“You’re telling me someone’s been putting this in the water?” Anthony asked, clenching his jaw.
“I’m telling you it’s not natural,” Abigail said calmly. “I’ve been around mining camps long enough to recognize waste runoff when I see it. This isn’t a little dust from a rainstorm. This is deliberate dumping.”
“Mining waste,” Anthony replied. “And there’s only one big mining operation near enough.”
Her gaze held his. “Vanburgh Consolidated.”
The name hung between them like a noose.
Anthony pulled a chair out and sat, elbows on his knees. “You’re certain?”
“Certainty is a luxury I don’t have,” Abigail said. “But I have enough evidence to be suspicious.”
She flipped open the leather notebook quickly. “I’ve been recording symptoms from each patient,” she continued. “Stomach pain, tremors, skin lesions . . . all consistent with heavy metal poisoning. And they didn’t all drink from the same cup. It’s the well water they share.”
He thumbed the edge of the notebook. “Could it be accidental? Spill from one of the smaller claims upriver?”
“No.” Her answer was quick. “The concentration is too high. And the tailings match what you’d see from high-volume extraction, the kind only Vanburgh’s outfit runs.”
Anthony leaned back, letting the words settle. He could hear the faint tick of the wall clock and the soft creak of floorboards from the other room.
“I saw two of Vanburgh’s wagons earlier,” he said slowly. “They weren’t headed to the assay. Straight to the rail. Maybe they’re moving more than just ore.”
Abigail’s brow furrowed. “You think they’re using the shipments to cover something?”
“I think they’re too careful to let anyone see much,” Anthony said. “Which means I’ll have to get closer.”
She folded her arms, studying him.
“Closer usually means trouble, Mr. Hawk,” she replied.
“Trouble’s already here,” he said quietly. “If Vanburgh’s poisoning that well, it’s to drive folks off. And I reckon I know which land he’s got his eye on.”
Abigail’s expression shifted. It was hesitation, then resolve. “The land where the encampment sits,” she said.
“That land’s not just important to the tribe,” he said. “My father once told me it was marked in an old deed . . . Eagle Rock.”
“I’ve heard of it,” she said. “Sacred ground. And valuable, if you believe the rumors about gold veins beneath it.”
“Rumors have a way of drawing men like Vanburgh,” Anthony muttered.
Abigail stepped closer, her voice dropping. “If you mean to confront him, you’ll need more than suspicion and a jar of dirty water,” she said.
“I’ll get proof, ma’am,” he replied.
She hesitated, then reached under the table and brought out another small jar. This one was sealed tight with wax.
“This is from the creek just north of his main shaft,” Abigail said. “Same contaminants. Take it. If anything happens to me, you make sure someone sees it.”
He took the jar, turning it in his hands. “You expect trouble here?”
“Vanburgh’s reach is long,” she said, shrugging. “And he doesn’t like anyone stirring the dust.”
A knock at the front door broke the moment. Abigail glanced toward the sound. “I’ll see to it. Stay here.”
She moved swiftly to the clinic’s front room. Anthony followed quietly, curiosity tightening his chest. The door creaked open again, and a group of rough-looking men stepped inside. Their faces were grim.
Between them, they carried a small boy. His skin was the same copper brown as the first child’s. He was listless, his eyes half-closed, and his breath shallow.
One of the men spoke softly.
“Found him near the creek, Doctor,” he said. “Been gettin’ worse since yesterday.”
Abigail’s face hardened. “Set him down gently,” she ordered.
They lowered the boy onto the bench against the wall. Abigail knelt beside him, checking his pulse and his temperature. Her hands were sure despite the urgency.
Anthony watched, heart tightening. This wasn’t an isolated case. More children, more sickness.
“Fever again,” Abigail said. “Looks like the poisoning is spreading.”
She pulled a cloth from her pocket and dampened it with water from the basin. Gently, she pressed it to the boy’s brow.
Anthony’s gaze drifted to the other waiting families gathered outside. Their faces were etched with worry and fear. So many of them were falling ill.
He swallowed hard. The poison wasn’t just a threat; it was a quiet war on the tribe—one that was happening right here, right now.
Abigail looked up briefly, catching his eye. “We need to act fast if we want to save any of them,” she said.
Anthony nodded, a cold resolve settling over him. He steadied the boy’s trembling shoulders as Abigail worked quickly.
“You mentioned the water samples earlier,” Anthony said quietly, glancing at the jar on the table. “You’ve been testing the wells near Eagle Rock Basin?”
Abigail nodded without looking up. “Yes. I’m trying to figure out what’s poisoning the children out there.”
Anthony kept his hold gentle but firm on the boy.
“My family holds a small patch of land near Eagle Rock Basin,” he said.
“It’s a claim passed down through blood, sacred ground to the Shoshone.
” He paused for a moment. “I’ve never set foot on the claim itself,” Anthony continued.
“I pan the rivers, climb the cliffs, take what I need to live . . . and leave the rest alone for the sake of peace.”
Abigail finally looked up, her eyes meeting his. “If the water’s poisoned, it’s more than just sickness,” she said. “It’s a way to drive folks off that land.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of, ma’am,” he said. “Vanburgh clearly wants the claim and the gold underneath—no matter the cost.”
She wiped her hands and nodded slowly. “You’re right.”
Anthony glanced back at the boy, whose breathing was starting to even out. “We’ll need more than just tests to stop it,” he said.
Abigail’s gaze hardened. “Then we’ll find a way. Together.”