When she spoke, her voice was low, carefully controlled." My husband was Taza, a warrior of our people." Three moons ago, a white man came to our camp to trade. But he did not want to trade. He wanted another pause longer this time." He wanted me." When Taza refused, when he tried to protect me, the man drew his gun.
"Taza killed him with his knife." Clara's breath caught. She knew how this story would end. Had heard too many like it in the years since coming west. They said it was murder nail continued her voice flat now emptied of emotion." The army came.
They killed Taza. They killed many of our people." Those who survived were taken to the reservation." But I ran. I took Kaya and I ran because I knew what they would do to the wife of a man who had killed a white trader." "Where were you going?" "North." "There are still places in the mountains where our people live free." "I thought if I could reach them..." Nolan's voice cracked. But I was weak.
Stupid." I thought I could outrun winter." Eli spoke from the corner where he had been sitting, quietly working oil into a length of leather." The man your husband killed. Did he have a name?" Nolan's eyes went to him sharp and weary." Krenshaw.
Jacob Krenshaw." Something shifted in Eli's expression. Clara saw a tightening around the eyes, a hardening of the jaw." What is it?" she asked. Jacob Krenshaw was a trader out of Ridgewater. Eli said slowly, "He had a brother named Silas." "Silas is..." He paused, choosing his words.
"Silas is not a forgiving man. He's rich. He's connected. And he holds grudges like other men hold religion." Nolan's arms tightened around Kaya." He is the one who follows us.
He has hired men. Many men." "How do you know?" "Because I have seen them. At every camp, at every crossing, they appear. I thought we had lost them in the mountains, but she shook her head. They are patient.