Chapter 4 - Betrayal and the Midnight Raid
Saturday night brought a heavy, suffocating darkness over the valley. The air was thick with the scent of pine and oncoming lightning.
Inside the ranch house, Tomás and Alma sat by the oil lamp. Over the past twenty-four hours, they had worked tirelessly, organizing Mateo’s ledger, cross-referencing dates, and preparing a formal petition for Circuit Judge Obregón.
As they worked side by side, a quiet, unspoken bond had formed between them. Alma showed Tomás how to make soothing chamomile teas for Emiliano’s teething pain, and Tomás shared stories of his family’s long history on the land. In the warmth of the small kitchen, two broken souls were slowly finding a sanctuary in one another.
Suddenly, a faint scraping sound came from the side window of the bedroom.
Tomás stood up instantly, hand reaching for his rifle. "Stay here," he whispered to Alma.
He moved silently down the narrow hallway, his boots making no sound on the wooden floorboards. As he reached the door of the bedroom, he saw a dark silhouette climbing through the open window frame.
It was Julián. In his hand, he carried a glass jug smelling strongly of kerosene, along with a heavy iron hunting knife.
"Looking for this, brother-in-law?" Tomás's voice echoed in the dark room.
Julián gasped, turning wildly and slashing out with the knife. Tomás ducked beneath the blade, grabbed Julián’s wrist, and slammed it violently against the bedpost. The knife dropped to the floor with a dull thud.
"You brought fire to my home?" Tomás growled, twisting Julián’s arm behind his back and forcing him to his knees. "To kill your own nephew?"
"Francisco promised me ten thousand pesos and full title to Los Sauces!" Julián sobbed, weeping out of cowardice and pain. "He said if the house burned with the book inside, no one would ask questions! Please, Tomás! I'm Elena's brother!"
"Elena would spit on your face!" Tomás snarled, dragging Julián into the living room and throwing him onto the floor.
Alma hurried out of the kitchen, clutching Emiliano. She gasped when she saw the kerosene jug in Julián’s left hand.
"He was going to burn us alive," Tomás said, his face dark with rage.
"Tomás... wait," Alma said, stepping forward as Tomás picked up a length of heavy rope. "Look at him. He's a coward, but he knows everything Francisco planned for tomorrow night."
Tomás planted his boot firmly on Julián’s chest, leaning down until his eyes were inches from his brother-in-law’s face. "Talk. Or I deliver you to Francisco’s men right now and tell them you failed."
"No! Don't do that! He'll kill me!" Julián shrieked. "Listen! Francisco hired eight gunmen from the border! They're coming at midnight tomorrow—Sunday night—before the judge arrives on Monday morning! They're going to burn the barn, kill the cattle, and make it look like a bandit raid! They're going to take the baby and leave Alma’s body in the ashes so it looks like she set the fire!"
Tomás’s blood ran cold. The sheer wickedness of the plot was beyond anything he had imagined. Francisco didn't just want the land—he wanted absolute destruction, leaving no witnesses and no evidence behind.
"Who is leading the border gunmen?" Alma asked sharply.
"A man named El Chacal," Julián stammered, trembling uncontrollably. "He's staying at the abandoned tannery near the river with his men!"
Tomás looked at Alma, a grim decision forming in his mind. "We can't stay here and wait to be slaughtered. If we stay defensive, they'll surround us."
"What are you going to do?" Alma asked, worry etched deeply into her face.
"The federal circuit judge arrives at the hotel in the main plaza tomorrow morning at eight," Tomás said. "I'm going to take Julián, the ledger, and your testimony straight to Judge Obregón before Francisco even knows we've left the ranch."
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"It's too dangerous for you to go alone," Alma insisted. "Francisco’s scouts are watching the main road."
"Then we don't use the main road," Tomás said, looking at the mountain trail behind the ranch. "We leave tonight, through the canyon."
