“We wondered how long you would sleep.”
Her English was clear.
Nathan tightened his grip.
“You usually introduce yourselves before sneaking onto a man's property?”
The youngest smiled.
The scarred woman did not.
The tallest stepped closer to the fence.
“We have been waiting for the next keeper.”
Nathan glanced behind him as though somebody else might be standing on the porch.
“Keeper of what?”
“The hollow.”
“I own this ranch.”
“We know.”
Nathan narrowed his eyes.
“I bought it yesterday.”
“We know that too.”
That bothered him more.
Nathan lowered the rifle slightly but did not relax.
“Who are you?”
The tallest woman looked toward the dark valley.
“You bought land you do not understand.”
“I've bought plenty of things I didn't understand.”
The youngest woman smiled again.
“Then perhaps you will survive.”
Nathan looked at her.
“Survive what?”
None of them answered.
Instead, the tallest woman said, “The hollow has accepted another name.”
Nathan almost laughed.
“Land doesn't accept people.”
The woman met his eyes.
“This land does.”
Before Nathan could respond, she turned.
The other two followed her toward the forest.
Nathan stepped down from the porch.
“Hold on.”
They kept walking.
“Hey!”
Within seconds, the three women disappeared among the pines.
Nathan stood in the freezing yard with his rifle raised uselessly.
Whiskey refused to leave the edge of the paddock until sunrise.
Nathan barely slept again.
At first light, he walked beyond the fence expecting to find nothing.
Instead, three sets of tracks crossed the frost.
Nathan placed his boot inside one.
The footprint was almost twice as long as his own.
“Hell.”
He followed them.
The trail entered the northern forest, crossed a creek, and climbed toward a narrow ravine hidden beneath thick pines. After half an hour, Nathan reached something no survey map had mentioned.
An enormous stone arch rose between two cliffs.
It had not been built recently.
Lichen covered the rocks.
Strange geometric symbols had been carved along both sides, some faded almost beyond recognition.
Three horses stood nearby.
Calling them horses felt inadequate.
Each animal was enormous, taller at the shoulder than any draft horse Nathan had seen, with thick legs, broad chests, and long winter coats. One was gray, one dark brown, and the third nearly white.
Nathan reached for his rifle.
“You followed.”
The voice came from behind him.
He turned.
The three women stood among the trees.
In daylight, they seemed even larger.
The tallest approached first.
“My name is Tall Willow.”
Nathan stared at her.
She pointed toward the scarred woman.
“Red Fern.”
Then the youngest.
“Morning Star.”
Morning Star lifted one hand.
Nathan almost smiled despite himself.
“Nathan Cole.”
“We know.”
“So you keep telling me.”
Tall Willow looked at the rifle.
“You will not need that with us.”
“I decide when I need it.”
Red Fern's expression suggested she respected that answer.
Tall Willow nodded toward the stone arch.