"You speak of God?" Naya shouted. Her voice was raspy from the smoke, but loud. You come in the night with fire and guns, and you speak of God? She pointed at the burning ruin.
You are not God, Clay Harlan. You are a thief. You steal land. You steal lives. You tried to buy me like a cow.
Harlan laughed. You are a cow, woman, property of the United States government, and I have the authority to return you to custody. "I am a citizen," Naya cried. I am Naya Ward. My name is written in the book at San Rosalita.
It does not matter, Harlan roared, losing his composure. No court will protect you here. I am the law in this valley. By now, the commotion and the towering flames had drawn attention. A wagon rattled into the yard.
It was Dr. Aris, followed by three or four other men from neighboring ranches who had seen the glow in the sky. What is happening here? Dr. Aris shouted, jumping down from his buggy. Go home, Henry, Harlan warned. This is private business.
This is arson, Elias shouted. Look at it. He tried to kill my wife, one of Harlan's men, a nervous young rider who looked spooked by the crowd, twitched his finger on the trigger of his Winchester. Bang. The shot hit the dirt inches from Elias's boot, kicking up a spray of gravel.
The yard froze. The neighbors pulled their own weapons. Chaos balanced on the edge of a knife. "Stop it!" The voice cracked, high and desperate.
Deputy Miller rode into the light. He looked pale, his uniform disheveled. He had ridden out with the neighbors, dragged along by duty he usually ignored. Miller, Harlan barked, arrest these squatters. They are harboring a fugitive.
Miller looked at the burning barn. He looked at Naya, pregnant and covered in soot. He looked at Elias, who stood with his hand hovering over his gun, ready to die, and he looked at Harlan, the man who had treated him like a dog for 10 years. "No," Miller said. "What did you say?"
Harlan asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I said no," Miller said, his voice gaining strength. This has gone too far. Clay, you burned a man's barn. You fired on a woman.