"It is."
He looked toward her.
"I knew these mountains. Elias knew how to put them on paper."
His voice softened.
"He thought the right line on a map could settle an argument before anybody got hurt."
Lydia stopped sewing.
"What happened between you?"
Gideon stared at her.
She lowered her eyes.
"I'm sorry."
"No."
He took a slow breath.
"We quarreled before he died."
Lydia waited.
"Elias believed the North Fork survey had been altered. He wanted me to help him retrieve the original measurements from the old camp."
"Did you?"
Gideon shook his head.
"I told him to leave it alone."
"Because it was dangerous?"
"Because I thought he was being stubborn."
He looked down at his hands.
"I had a trapping contract. The weather was turning. I told him a map wasn't worth risking his neck over."
Lydia felt a knot form in her chest.
Gideon continued.
"He said if nobody challenged Rusk, more families would lose their claims."
He paused.
"I told him he cared more about proving himself right than staying alive."
His voice broke slightly.
"Those were some of the last words I said to him."
Lydia set down the shirt.
"Gideon."
He stared at the floor.
"Three days later, he was gone."
She moved closer.
Slowly.
Giving him time to pull away if he wanted.
Then she sat beside him.
"Did you know he would die?"
Gideon shook his head.
"Of course not."
"Did you intend to hurt him?"
"No."
"Then you cannot turn every word you wish you'd taken back into the cause of his death."
Gideon closed his eyes.
Lydia continued gently.
"You were brothers. You quarreled. That doesn't mean you stopped loving him."
A tear slipped into his beard.
He quickly wiped it away.
Lydia looked toward the fire.
She knew something about words that could not be taken back.
She knew how guilt could grow around a memory until it seemed larger than the truth.
Gideon finally spoke.
"I should've gone with him."
"Perhaps."
He turned toward her, surprised.
She did not offer him an easy lie.
"Perhaps you could've helped. Perhaps you would've both been hurt. We don't know."
She reached for his hand.
"But if the people threatening him caused his death, the blame belongs with them."
Gideon stared at her.
For a long moment, he seemed unable to speak.
Then he closed his fingers around hers.
"Nobody's ever said it that way."
Lydia smiled sadly.
"Maybe nobody has asked you to forgive yourself."
He looked down.
"I don't know how."
She squeezed his hand.
"Then perhaps we can learn together."
The next day, Gideon began preparing for the journey to North Fork.
He selected two strong horses from the small shelter behind the cabin.
One was a broad-chested bay gelding named Copper.
The other was a patient, heavy-boned gray mare named June.
June had belonged to Elias.
She was older now, but steady.
Gideon trusted her on narrow trails.
Lydia stood beside the shelter wearing her thick wool cloak.
Snow reached nearly to her knees.
She examined the horses.
"Will June carry me?"
Gideon looked at her.