Hollis must have known that. Must have counted on it. "We need to warn Kuruk," Takala said.
"We need proof first. If we go to him with just a theory, it won't matter. But if we can prove the army did this—"
"How? The marshal already stood against Hollis once. He will not do it again. And who else has authority?"
She was right. Quinn had spent his political capital defending us. He'd be lucky to keep his job after that. The territorial governor was three weeks' ride away in Santa Fe, assuming the mountain passes were even clear.
We were on our own. We rode back to my ranch in grim silence. As we approached, I saw another horse tied to my porch rail. For a moment, I thought it might be Hollis, come to finish what he'd started.
But the horse was too small. Too old. Marshal Quinn sat on my porch steps, his head in his hands. He looked up when he heard us approach.
His face was haggard, like he hadn't slept in days. "Silas. Miss Takala."
He stood slowly, using the railing for support. "I came to tell you in person. I've been dismissed. Official letter came this morning from the territorial marshal's office."
"Captain Hollis filed a complaint about my interference in military operations. They didn't even give me a hearing."
"I'm sorry, Tobias."
He laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Don't be. I'm not. I made my choice when I stood up to Hollis, and I'd make it again."
"But there's more. The army's calling up volunteers. They're saying the Apache burned the Morrison ranch and killed the family."
"Never mind that the Morrisons left months ago. They're building a war party, and they'll ride out within the week."
"It was Hollis who burned it," I said. "We were just there. The tracks are all wrong. Shod horses, army boots."
"He's manufacturing his war."
Quinn nodded wearily. "I figured as much. But it won't matter. People want to believe the worst about Indians."
"Give them a burned ranch and some scary stories, and they'll sign up for whatever the army's selling. Hollis will have his war, and a lot of people are going to die for his ambition."
Takala spoke quietly. "Then I must warn my people."
"They already know," Quinn said. "Chaska came through town this morning, bold as brass, riding right down Main Street."
"He stopped long enough to tell anyone who'd listen that the Apache had nothing to do with the fire. Then he rode out before anyone could grab him. Kid's got courage, I'll give him that."
"He's also painted a target on his back," I said.