He pulled the blanket over the woman and went to put another log on the fire. She woke before Eli did, which he hadn't expected. He came downstairs in the gray pre-dawn to find her sitting up near the hearth, hands wrapped around a cup she'd found herself and filled from the kettle still warm on the stove. She had folded the blanket.
She looked at him steadily when he came into the room."Good morning," she said."Morning," he said.
He stood there a moment. She sat there.
Neither of them moved."My name is Sona," she said."Chiricahua.
My people winter near the Piedra." A pause."I can cook.
I can mend. I can make medicines from what grows here. Yarrow, pine resin, others. I know this high country.
Another pause. I will work every day until spring if you give me shelter and food." It was the longest speech she'd made. He could tell it had cost her something, that careful accounting of her own usefulness.
Eli poured himself coffee from the pot she'd apparently reheated and sat down across from her."There are people looking for you," he said.
Not a question. Her expression didn't change."Yes.
How many?" "A man named Greer.
He will have riders.
I cannot say how many." "Why does he want you back?" "He believes I belong to him." She said it without drama, the way you'd state a fact about the weather."He is wrong." Eli looked at his coffee."I've got a daughter," he said."I know.
I saw her.