He found Autumn Sky sitting up when he went back inside, leaning against the wall, color back in her face for the first time since he'd pulled her out from under that rock. "Quiet water says I'll walk again in a season," she said. Said it like she was disappointed it wasn't longer. "Woman's been trying to keep me off horses since I was 12. She's not wrong to try.
Don't you start, too. Wouldn't dream of it." Wade leaned against the doorframe. I'm taking your father someplace today. something I'd need to show him. Her eyes sharpened immediately.
The thing you wouldn't tell me about last night. That's the one. Take me with you. You've got a broken leg. I've got a broken leg and a horse that doesn't care one bit about my leg.
And I intend to see whatever it is you're about to hand my my father like it's the last card in your whole hand. Wade opened his mouth to argue. Closed it again. Because arguing with this particular woman, he was rapidly learning, cost more than it was worth, and won you nothing but a headache besides. Fine, he said, "But you ride slow, and you ride with somebody holding that leg steady the whole way, or I swear I'll leave you tied to this cot myself."
"Bold talk," she said, from a man who couldn't tie a decent splint to save his life. "Splints holding, isn't it? Barely. Barely still holding." She laughed at that a real laugh this time, short and surprised out of her, like she hadn't expected to have one left in her yet.
And Wade thought, watching her, that he could get used to being the reason for that particular sound, which was a dangerous thought to be having about a woman whose father hadn't yet decided whether to trust him or run him clean out of the territory. He filed it away anyway, for later, if there was going to be a later. They rode south through the worst heat of the day. 30 warriors trailing behind Grey Talon's black stallion. Autumn Sky propped carefully against her father's saddle, legs splint tight, jaw set against every jolt of the trail.
Wade led, watching for the marks he'd made two years back, and never told a soul about an eagle-shaped footstone. here. Three cacti standing in a straight line. There a rock formation that from the right angle looked exactly like a clenched fist. He found them all one by one exactly where he'd left them. Funny thing about secrets, you spend years making sure nobody else can find your way to them.
Then one day you're leading 200 people straight down the path yourself. And it turns out you remember every single turn. Here, Wade said finally, dismounting near what looked to anybody who didn't know better, like nothing at all. Just rock, just sand, just more of the same desert stretching out in every direction. The warriors looked around, confused, a few exchanging glances that plainly asked whether this white man had led them 30 miles for nothing.