"Morning," Malone said, friendly. "Easy," Hadley said, not moving from the porch. A pause, the kind of pause men used to see what the other man will do with it. Malone looked around the property, slow, taking inventory. "Nice spread," he said.
"Lonely out here." "I manage." "I expect you do." Another pause. "I'm looking for two young women, Apache, sisters, traveling on foot."
His tone was concerned, the tone of a man worried about lost travelers, perfectly calibrated. "We think they may have gotten separated from their people during the storm." Hadley looked at him, kept his face at rest. "Haven't seen anyone," he said. Malone nodded, slow, looked at the cabin, at the windows, at the line of laundry, two extra sets of clothing that he'd missed in his accounting and now couldn't miss.
Hanging on the east side, his eyes came back to Hadley. "That's a shame," he said. "It'd be dangerous for two women out here alone—dangerous for most people in a Wyoming winter." "True enough." A small smile, the smile of a man recalculating.
"Well, if you do happen to see anyone, I'll keep it in mind." Malone looked at him for another long moment. Then he turned his horse and rode back the way he'd come, steady, unhurried like a man who's gotten the answer he actually came for. Hadley stayed on the porch until Malone was a quarter mile gone. Then he went inside.
Nayeli was two steps from the door. "He knows," she said. "He knew before he came. He came to confirm, the laundry." "The laundry," he agreed.
Tsula was by the fireplace, standing, not sitting. The drawing charcoal in her hand held tight. "What did he say?" Not a question. She'd been watching through the window and hadn't caught all of it.
He said he was looking for two young women traveling on foot. Hadley moved to the supply shelf. Took down the cartridge tin. He said it'd be dangerous for two women out here alone. Tsula's jaw tightened.
He said that "He's not wrong about it being dangerous." Hadley said. "He just had the cause and effect backwards." Something crossed Tsula's face. Something that was not quite a smile, but occupied the same neighborhood.
Then it was gone. That night nobody slept well. Hadley sat in the chair, Nayeli on the bench, Tsula eventually lying down, but visibly not sleeping. Eyes open in the dark ceiling. The fire kept low.
Low enough that it didn't throw light past the windows. Around midnight Nayeli said, "He'll come back with more men." "Yes." "How long? A day?"
"Maybe two." "You could have said I wasn't here." "I could have." "Why didn't you?" Hadley was quiet for a moment.
"Because I'm a bad liar." he said. "And because it was already too late. He'd seen the laundry." A pause. "And because it wouldn't have mattered.