“You were there.”
The frontiersman said nothing.
The daughter lifted her rifle.
The barrel pointed directly at his chest.
The two warriors behind them reacted immediately.
The stranger made no move toward his revolver.
The daughter spoke slowly.
“My mother's sister died there.”
The frontiersman closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, the rifle had not moved.
“I know.”
“You know?”
“I remember her.”
The daughter stared.
And suddenly the mystery of the traps was no longer the most dangerous thing in the mountains.
Chapter Five — Tonto Basin
The daughter kept the rifle on him.
Snow landed on the barrel.
The frontiersman did not move.
One of the warriors behind her asked something.
She answered without looking away.
The warrior's face hardened.
His hand went toward his knife.
The frontiersman understood.
The daughter spoke in English.
“Tell me.”
He swallowed.
“There isn't much that makes it better.”
“Tell me anyway.”
The frontiersman looked down at the snow.
“I was hired to guide a militia column through the southern pass.”
“You knew why?”
“I was told they were looking for men who had raided two ranches.”
“Did you believe them?”
“At first.”
“At first.”
Her voice was bitter.
The frontiersman continued.
“When we reached the basin, I saw families.”
The daughter said nothing.
“I told the captain.”
“What did he say?”
“That the raiders were hiding among them.”
“And then?”
The frontiersman's jaw tightened.
“They surrounded the settlement.”
The daughter's rifle remained steady.
“I heard the first shot behind me.”
“Who fired?”
“I don't know.”
“You expect that answer to save you?”
“No.”
“Did you fire?”
“No.”
The daughter laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“That is what you tell yourself.”
His head lifted.
“Yes.”
The answer surprised her.
He continued.
“Every day.”
“You did not fire, so you are innocent.”
“No.”
He took one step closer to the rifle.
The warriors tensed.
The daughter did not retreat.
“I showed them the pass.”
Another step.
“I took their money.”
Another.
“And when I understood what they intended to do, I did not put a bullet in the captain.”
He stopped with the muzzle less than a foot from his chest.
“I walked away.”
The daughter's eyes flickered.
“I told myself leaving meant I wasn't part of it.”
His voice became quieter.
“It didn't.”
Wind passed through the canyon.
The frontiersman looked toward the ground.
“There was a woman near the cottonwoods. She had a little girl with her.”
The daughter went pale.
The rifle lowered slightly.
The stranger continued.
“She was trying to get across the wash.”
The daughter's lips parted.