He folded the sketches carefully.
Then mounted Copper.
Iron Elk approached.
For a moment, the chief seemed unable to speak.
Finally, he looked at Elias.
"Bring my daughter home."
Elias met his gaze.
"I'll do everything I can."
The chief nodded.
Then added quietly, "And cowboy..."
Elias waited.
"When you find her, let her tell you what she needs."
For a moment, Elias studied him.
The words were unlike anything Iron Elk had said when they first met.
Then he nodded.
"I will."
And the riders entered the eastern trail as the sun rose over the red mountains.
They found Ren's beads shortly after midday.
The young tracker was the first to notice them.
She dismounted near the dry wash and crouched beside the wagon marks.
Elias approached.
"What is it?"
The woman held out her hand.
Six pale beads.
Two blue.
Two Feathers looked at them.
"Could have fallen from anything."
The young tracker shook her head.
"No."
She arranged the beads on her palm.
"Ren's grandmother taught us this pattern."
Elias leaned closer.
"What does it mean?"
The woman pointed toward the pale sandstone wall ahead.
"Two channels of water. One dry in summer."
Elias looked toward the sketch Willow Song had given them.
The same feature appeared.
A narrow split in the wash.
He felt a surge of relief.
"She left us a sign."
The tracker nodded.
"And she did it deliberately."
Elias looked toward the canyon.
Ren was alive.
Conscious.
Thinking.
He had been imagining her helpless beneath the cloth, carried farther and farther away.
Now he understood that she was fighting in the only ways available to her.
He placed the beads carefully inside his vest.
Then mounted.
"Let's go."
The young tracker shook her head.
"Not yet."
Elias looked back.
She pointed toward the wagon tracks.
"Look."
He studied them.
At first, he saw nothing unusual.
Then she indicated a second set of hoofprints.
Fresh.
Heavy.
Coming from the northern slope.
"Another rider joined them here."
Two Feathers dismounted.
He examined the marks.
His expression changed.
Elias noticed.
"Who?"
The older warrior straightened.
"Crane."
Elias felt his stomach tighten.
"You're certain?"
Two Feathers nodded.
"He rides a horse with a damaged left shoe. The track leaves a distinctive mark."
Elias looked toward the ridge.
The contractor himself had joined the kidnappers.
Which meant Ren was not merely a bargaining prize.
She was central to something Crane considered important enough to oversee personally.
Elias turned toward the riders.
"We stay together."
They continued carefully.
No one spoke for a long time.
The sun climbed higher.
The canyon narrowed.
And somewhere ahead, beyond the pale sandstone walls, Ren waited.
Silas Crane arrived at the freight station carrying a polished black cane and a leather document case.
He was a man in his early fifties, with neatly combed gray hair, pale eyes, and the carefully cultivated manners of someone who believed wealth entitled him to obedience.