"Told you the claim is up on the north ridge. Old man Etienne found a vein of silver thick as your leg. Never filed it. Just sat on it. " Another voice laughed. "Crazy old coot. " Pritchard says the girl knows where the markers are.
Says the old man gave her the map. We just need to find her. Pritchard put a bounty out. $500 for the girl. Dead or alive, he said, though he'd prefer alive for a few hours first. Laughter followed.
Crude and ugly. Millie pulled away from the wall. Her face was white, but her eyes were dry. She looked at Jonah. It is not just hate, she whispered.
It is business. I am not just a scandal to them. I am a key. Jonah nodded. He felt a cold rage settling in his gut, heavier than lead.
They want the claim, Jonah said. and they want you silent. Millie looked down at her hands. I am inconvenient, she said, because I know he murdered Etienne and I have the proof. Jonah took her shoulders. His grip was firm.
We are leaving now. They said their goodbyes to Clara, who pressed a small bag of dried apples into Millie's hand and told them to go with God. They moved toward the alley where the horses were tied. The sun was beginning to dip, casting long, bruised shadows across the snow. As they turned the corner into the narrow space between the mercantile and the livery, three men stepped out from behind a stack of crates.
They were not lawmen. They were roughnecks, timbermen by the look of their [ __ ] boots and flannel shirts. They smelled of whiskey and bad intent. "Well, look at this," the leader said. A big man with a broken tooth grinned.
If it isn't the little bird everyone is looking for. They blocked the path. Millie stepped back, bumping into Jonah's chest. Excuse us, Jonah said. His voice was polite, but it carried the weight of a gravestone.
The leader laughed. He looked at Millie, ignoring Jonah completely. Mister Pritchard would pay a lot to have a conversation with you. Sweetheart, why don't you come with us? We have a warm carriage.
He reached out a hand to grab Millie's arm. Jonah did not draw his gun. He did not shout. He moved with a speed that belied his size. He stepped forward, knocking the man's hand aside with his forearm.
And in the same motion, he drove his knee into the man's midsection. The man doubled over with a wheeze. Jonah grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wooden wall of the livery stable. The wood cracked. The other two men reached for their belts.