If we let him live, he will escape. If he escapes, he brings the soldiers. If the soldiers come, we die. All of us. " She pointed a finger at Luke, trembling with rage. "Kill him now!
Put his head on a stake at the canyon entrance. Let the white men see what happens when they come for us! " A murmur of agreement ran through the circle. Several of the younger women nodded, their faces hardening. Luke felt the sweat trickle down his spine. He knew, with absolute certainty, that he was seconds away from dying.
He thought of the graves on the hill behind his cabin. He thought of Sarah. "Wait. " The single word cracked through the tension like a whip. The circle parted, and Naylin limped forward. She leaned heavily on a staff of polished juniper wood.
Her hair was entirely white, caught in a loose knot at the nape of her neck. She was old, her body twisted by injury and time, but her eyes were black glass, sharp and unyielding. Naylin stopped in front of Luke. She looked him up and down, inspecting his boots, his hands, the width of his shoulders. It was the way Luke looked at a horse at an auction.
"He is strong," Naylin said, her voice dry and rasping. "He is an enemy," Ayanna countered, though her tone lost some of its edge in the presence of the matriarch. "He is a resource," Naylin corrected. She turned to Ayanna. "You want to kill him for revenge, daughter?
That is a luxury we cannot afford. Revenge does not fill the waterskins. Revenge does not chop the wood. Revenge does not mend the corral fences. " She turned back to Luke. "What is your name, white man? " Luke swallowed.
His throat felt like it was full of sand. "Luke Carver. " "Carver," Naylin repeated, testing the sound of it. She stepped closer, smelling of sage and old smoke. "Tell me, Carver, where are the soldiers? " "I do not know," Luke said. "Do not lie to me," Naylin said softly.
She did not raise her voice, but the threat was there, sharp as a knife. "We know they are moving. We have seen the dust. Where are they going? " "They are sweeping the southern range," Luke said, the words tumbling out. He felt a stab of shame at the betrayal of his own people, but the instinct to survive was louder.
"Sergeant Miller said they are moving toward the border. They are looking for stragglers. " "Stragglers? " Ayanna repeated bitterly. "That is what they call us, not people, stragglers. Debris to be swept away. " Naylin silenced her with a raised hand. "And your ranch?
Is anyone waiting for you? " "No," Luke said. "I live alone. " "Good," Naylin said. She looked around the circle, meeting the eyes of the other women. "Our men are gone. Some are dead.
Some are rotting in the prison at San Carlos. We have only boys and old ones left. The work is hard, and our backs are breaking. " She pointed her staff at Luke's chest. "This man owes a debt. His people have taken our land.