The Pursuit of the Greywolf Girl (Preview)

Chapter One

“Are you ready yet, Elinor?” 

“Yes, Mama.” Elinor Ashcroft was only eight years old, but she’d quickly become used to the way her parents traveled through the territories. They moved from one hotel to another, oftentimes staying barely long enough to get their clothes hung in the closet before it was time to leave again. They were fine clothes, though, much nicer than what she saw a lot of other children her age wearing.

“We’ll need to leave soon,” her mother cautioned. “Your father and Mr. Merriton should be done with their meeting before long, and he’ll want to load up the wagon as soon as he gets back.”

There was always a certain feeling in the air when they were getting ready to leave again, a tight feeling that made her tummy hurt. She had that feeling now. Mama’s trunk was open in the corner, and some of her dresses had already been folded inside. Elinor’s tummy tightened a little more.

“Mama.” Elinor sidled over to the vanity where her mother sat. She stood next to her, looking over her mother’s shoulder and at her reflection. Mama was so beautiful, with her dark hair and her smooth skin. She had a fringe of dark lashes around her bright blue eyes, and she batted them whenever she met someone new or was about to ask someone for a favor. 

Men always looked at her. Elinor wished they wouldn’t.

Elinor had inherited those eyes from her mother, but she had her father’s hair. It fell down in front of each of her shoulders in two long, red braids. When it wasn’t captured in a plait or a bonnet, it made a fluffy crown around her head that refused to be tamed into anything pretty. She frowned as she tugged at one of her braids, wondering if her hair would look more like Mama’s when she got older.

“Don’t do that, Elinor. You’ll tug out the ribbon, and then I’ll have to do your hair all over again. You already stand out enough without making a mess of that hair of yours.” Prudence Ashcroft leaned toward the mirror, carefully dabbing on her powder and rouge. “Now, what did you need?”

“What does Daddy do?” she asked. “I mean, when he’s meeting with Mr. Merriton. What do they talk about?”

Her mother blinked twice. That was always a sign that she didn’t like what she heard. Then her blue eyes would snap with lightning, and she’d yell things or sometimes even break things until she was happy again. Elinor was careful not to make that happen, but sometimes she couldn’t help it.

This time, though, Mama’s red lips smiled wide at Elinor in the mirror. Her eyes were still hard, but she wasn’t yelling. “You don’t need to worry about what he does. He makes good money, and he keeps us clothed and fed. Leave the rest of it to the adults.” 

She adjusted the long gold chain around her neck that held a heavy cross and went back to her makeup.

“But do they do bad things?” Elinor pressed. She chewed her lower lip.

Suddenly, her mother’s mood changed from one of icy distance to pleasant warmth. She turned away from the mirror and put her hand on Elinor’s shoulder. “Of course not! Don’t be silly! Why would you say such a thing?”

“Well…” Elinor hesitated. If she told, then she was going to get in trouble one way or another. It was hard to explain when she didn’t quite understand it all herself.

“Is this because that man came here a few days ago and wanted to talk to your father about a contract?” her mother asked.

That was at least part of what Elinor worried about, so she nodded.

“Darling, that was just a simple misunderstanding. Mr. Reed was unhappy, but that’s only because he didn’t understand the terms of the contract he signed.” Mama shook her head. “You probably don’t know what any of that means. He was just confused, darling. That’s all. Your father talked it over with him, and everything is fine.”

“Really?” Elinor asked, wanting desperately to believe it.

“Yes, really. Now then, do you remember going to the general store with me yesterday?”

“Of course.” It was only two buildings down from the hotel.

Her mother smiled. “Would you be a dear and go get some hair pins for me? I seem to be about out. I lost some in all this wind! You can get a piece of candy for yourself.” She took her purse from the top of the vanity and dropped two coins in Elinor’s hand.

The promise of candy was enough to drive all of Elinor’s worries away. She clutched the coins in her palm and ran for the door.

“Don’t run in the hallways,” her mother called out behind her.

“I won’t!” But it was very hard not to run, because she was so excited. 

Her mother had been letting her go on more and more outings by herself now that she was getting older. As her father put it, she was “more responsible.” The only thing Elinor understood about it was the thrill of being out in the world without an adult holding her hand or telling her to watch out for a passing wagon. She held her head high as she went down the stairs, through the lobby, and out the front doors.

The street outside was busy. Elinor couldn’t remember what town they were in. Their location changed so often, and all of the towns were about the same anyway. A long thoroughfare through the main part of town offered all the hotels, shops, and businesses that they might need to visit. Anything off the other roads that intersected them were, as her father said, not where little girls needed to go.

She paused as she passed the front of the hotel. A long, narrow alleyway ran between the tall building and the one next to it. The hot sun didn’t reach there, leaving dark shadows. Elinor ran past it.

After passing a barber shop and another scary alley, she was panting when she entered the general store. Elinor was surrounded by barrels of coffee and oats, bolts of fabric, and big jars full of shining candy. She took her place in line, trying to wait patiently.

“Hello there, young lady,” the older gentleman said as she stepped up to the counter. “What can I do for you?”

He seemed kind, with a twinkle in his brown eyes, and Elinor felt big and responsible again as she dropped her coins on the counter. One of them stuck to her sweaty palm for a moment. 

“My mama needs some hair pins, and she said I could get some candy, too.”

“I see.” The clerk fetched a packet of hair pins and examined the coins. “All right, it looks like you have enough money left over for two pieces. Do you like butterscotch?”

“Yes!”

Just like that, the kind man took her coins and replaced them with the hair pins and the candy.

Delighted, Elinor went back outside. She stepped off the little porch on the front of the general store, pausing to pop one of the precious pieces of butterscotch in her mouth. The candy was already getting sticky, and she wanted to enjoy it.

A hand came down hard on her shoulder and dragged her backwards. Elinor gasped, sending the bright yellow disc shooting out of her mouth. It landed in the dirt, instantly ruined. “Hey!”

Something cold and hard jammed into her back, right between her shoulder blades.

An icy ball of terror formed in Elinor’s tummy, something much worse than what she’d felt earlier in the day. She pushed her feet against the ground, desperate to run back to the hotel, but whoever held her was strong and yanked her backwards.

“Be quiet or I’ll kill you right here and now,” a harsh voice whispered in her ear, the breath wet and close.

Elinor began to cry.

The hand left her shoulder, but only for a moment as it covered her mouth and dragged her into the alleyway between the general store and the barbershop. Hot tears leaked from her mouth and down the man’s fingers. Her heels dragged on the ground, but she wasn’t strong enough to stop him. The sudden shade between the buildings blinded her for a moment as she was hauled behind the barber shop.

More men were waiting there, or at least she thought they were men. Every one of them wore a sack over their heads. They stared at her through dark, jagged eye holes.

A strip of cloth went over her mouth in place of the hand, tied tight against the back of her head. Strands of her hair got twisted up in it. Then another strip of cloth went over her eyes. Elinor fought, flailing her fists and kicking her legs, but she was so small compared to these men. There was nothing she could do.

Her arms were yanked behind her back, and she felt her last bit of hope disappearing as her wrists were bound. She tried to call for Mama and Daddy. If she screamed hard enough, maybe the nice man from the general store would hear. But the strip of cloth over her mouth made it impossible.

She was picked up with shocking ease and thrown over the back of a horse. Someone started to bind her ankles together. Elinor kicked, and she heard a grunt as the bottom of her foot hit something. But two hands grasped her ankles even harder, and a thick rope dug into her skin.

Elinor heard the creak of the saddle as someone got into it. The horse jolted forward, its bony withers digging into her stomach. She bounced and jiggled, sliding first one way and then another. A heavy hand snagged the back of her dress and held her steady, but it didn’t make her feel safer. 

What was happening? Why were these people doing this to her? Were they going to kill her?

The thunder of more hoofbeats sounded all around her. Dust rose into the air and flowed into her nose. She coughed and snorted, barely able to breathe. The gag became soggy, and her blindfold was wet with tears. The voices of men shouted all around her, but she didn’t recognize any of them.

“We’ve got her. Let’s go!”

“Not that way. They’ll see us.”

There were some more angry shouts, and then one rose above the others. “Damn it! The Natives!”

A new chill of fear rippled through Elinor’s body, and the skirt of her dress was suddenly soaked with urine. Her father had warned her about the Natives. When they traveled from one city to another, he was always scanning the area around the road. 

He’d told Elinor about the savage beasts that roamed the plains, terrible tales about them eating little girls. Comanche, Osage, Kiowa, Apache. It didn’t matter what they called their tribe. Their war cries surrounded her, terrifying screams and noises that didn’t sound like any person she’d ever heard before.

The sound of guns ricocheted around her. Elinor struggled. She had to get away! She had to hide! But there was no place to go, and the heavy hand was still on her back, pressing her against the horse. With every shot, she was sure she would be next. Men cried out in pain.

Then, the hand was gone. 

Several more shots rang out. The horse underneath her screamed, an alarming cry that shook its bones. Her world was hoofbeats, dust, shouts, and utter confusion, and it tipped underneath her. Something slammed hard into Elinor. It forced all the air out of her lungs. She tried to suck her breath in, but it wouldn’t work. She was really going to die!

All at once, though, she could breathe again. Everything was still chaos around her, but at least nobody was holding her down. The thing that had slammed into her was the ground—she could feel the scrubby grass under her cheek. Elinor squirmed against it, pushing her face into the dirt, working the blindfold up onto her forehead.

The horse lay next to her. Its mouth was open, and its thick tongue lolled on the ground. One wide eye stared up at the sky, unblinking. A hole in its neck still trickled blood, which soaked into the ground.

Her hands and feet were still bound, but Elinor struggled against her bonds to sit up. She pushed up with her elbows, and as she lifted her head she saw men scattered on the ground all around her. Most of them had those awful sacks still over their heads. She couldn’t see their faces, but they had the eerie stillness of the dead.

Footsteps made her turn. A Native man ran past the horse, smoke curling from his gun as he fired several shots. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and his dark hair swung against his bare back. He shouted something she couldn’t understand.

Elinor sobbed as she scooted backward on the ground, trying to get away from him. What if he saw her? He would eat her, just like Daddy said! She cried so hard that her lungs and throat burned. She didn’t know what was happening. She just wanted to go back to the hotel and give Mama her hair pins. They were gone, though. So was the candy.

The Native ran off, but when Elinor turned she saw another one. His dark eyes met hers, and his heavy brows bent into a vee. He ran straight toward her.

There was nothing she could do. Elinor closed her eyes, wishing she’d never taken the blindfold off. She didn’t want to see. She didn’t want to know when the end came.

Chapter Two

Twelve Years Later

A hot wind picked up the dust on the Cimarron Plains and flung it into Nathaniel Boone’s face. He turned away from it instinctively, reaching into his inner pocket for his handkerchief. Tying it around his face, he lowered his hat. 

“I don’t know why anyone would choose to live out here.”

The dry laugh that issued from his partner, Horace Wilkes, was a familiar one. 

“You ought to know by now that everyone has their reasons. Most folks probably wouldn’t choose a place this dry and dusty, but most folks aren’t the Bowery Boys. Here. Take a look.” The older man handed over his spyglass.

Nathaniel put it up to his eye. It was easy enough to spot the miserable shack. The only trees out here in this wilderness were the cottonwoods that clung to the riverbank, desperate for any trickle of water it might provide in the dry season. 

The little shelter had likely once belonged to some frontiersman who thought of making this place his home, only to find out that this little corner of Kansas was far more hostile than he could’ve imagined.

Many such folks had abandoned their farms, leaving behind anything they couldn’t carry with them in search of more hospitable territory. Unfortunately, that left good openings for men like the Bowery Boys. They weren’t trying to raise livestock or grow their vegetables because they were too busy robbing trains, holding up banks, and murdering anyone who got in their way.

The gray wooden siding was warped from long years in the weather, but the windows and door had held. A thin wisp of smoke escaped through the chimney, confirming their belief that their targets had holed up here.

“What do you think?” Horace asked quietly.

Nathaniel handed the spyglass back. This was his mentor’s way of asking Nathaniel to tell him everything he knew about the situation. They’d been paired up shortly after Nathaniel had joined the Pinkertons. Horace didn’t grill him or chastise him, but he made damn sure Nathaniel was paying attention.

“It’s definitely them,” Nathaniel asserted.

“How do you know? It could be some travelers taking shelter for the night,” Horace reasoned.

Nathaniel shook his head. “I recognize the horse. It’s got the brand of the Chapman Ranch, which the Bowery Boys raided just a couple of weeks ago. It wasn’t very smart of them to hold onto the horses, although they’re supposed to be fast and well-bred.”

Horace nodded approvingly. “What else?”

“Well, they’ve been here for a minute,” Nathaniel concluded. “Their horses have managed to graze away all the land immediately around the house. I’d say they plan on staying for a while, too, considering the firewood they’ve got piled up near the door.”

“Good.” Horace had often told Nathaniel that there was more evidence at any particular scene than most people thought. It wasn’t just about a broken lock or a witness who saw a masked man. There were always clues as to a person’s behavior, and that was an essential part of getting in their minds. “How do you think we should handle this?”

Nathaniel looked at the sun, which was sinking toward the horizon. “I say we wait until just before dusk. We’ll still have enough light to see, but they’ll have a harder time figuring out our positions.”

“All right,” Horace grunted. He turned and spat on the ground, trying to get the dust out of his mouth. “I like that part well enough.”

“We should come at them from both sides,” Nathaniel suggested. “I’ll go in from the front, and you come in from the back.”

Horace let out that papery laugh once again and clapped Nathaniel on the shoulder. “You’ve been an eager young pup ever since you joined. I think that’s why they put you with an old dog like me. They figured I’d slow you down and you’d speed me up.”

“It seems to be working, considering our record,” Nathaniel noted with pride. The two of them had become well known among their peers at the agency.

Horace turned his horse back the way they’d come, heading around a bend in the river where there was less risk of the Bowery Boys spotting them while they waited for the right moment to attack. “One of these days, you’ll have to learn how to work with someone else.”

The idea made Nathaniel’s muscles tense. “Why? We do fine.”

“Sure.” Horace swung down from the saddle, keeping his knees bent for a moment as though the impact had been a little too hard on him. “Nathaniel, I’m going to retire someday.”

“You can’t do that,” Nathaniel said dismissively. He dismounted and gave his horse its head so it could drink from the muddy stream. “What would you do with yourself if you retired? I can’t exactly picture you sitting around on your porch with a whittling knife.”

“No, maybe not. But this old body isn’t getting any younger, Nate.” Horace rubbed his knees. He turned to look at Nathaniel and shook his finger at him. “Don’t go looking like a baby deer without it’s mama, now.”

Nathaniel schooled his features and cursed himself for the slip-up. He and Horace had spent many hours discussing the fine art of controlling one’s emotions during tense times. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

“Which is why I’m telling you now, before I say anything to anyone else, so keep it under your hat,” Horace advised. “I haven’t decided how much longer I’ll stay, and I haven’t discussed it with the agency, but I wanted you to know it’s coming. Hell, every time we get back to one of the field offices, they all look at me like they’re shocked I’m still standing.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Nathaniel advised.

“Don’t be so blind,” Horace retorted. “There might not be any mirrors out here on the plains, but I don’t need one to know how much gray hair I have or how grizzled this old face is. I can feel it in my bones, Nathaniel. My time is just about over.”

Nathaniel let a long breath out through his nostrils. He didn’t want to accept what Horace was saying, but neither did he want to argue with his mentor. They were partners. They were friends. They were like family, risking their lives together for the sake of whatever case the agency put them on. 

“I’ve trusted you to know a lot of things, Horace, so I’ll trust you to know this,” he relented.

“Thank you. Now then, let’s get back to the matter at hand. I’m going in from the front, and you’re going in from the back.”

That was the exact opposite of what Nathaniel had suggested. “But—”

“You wouldn’t deny an old man one last hurrah, would you?” Horace asked, screwing up one eye in a mock challenge.

“No, sir. You go right ahead.”

They sat down against the trees, taking the time to double-check their pistols. 

“These are dangerous men, Nathaniel, and not just because they’re armed. They’re probably desperate. We’ve been after them for quite some time, and they probably know we’re on their trail.”

Nathaniel flicked his revolver’s cylinder back into place. “There are only two of them.”

“And there are only two of us,” Horace advised. “Don’t go into anything with too much confidence. You have to stay on your guard. The snake that bites you is the one you don’t see.”

When the sun had drifted down below the horizon, leaving a simmering layer of orange in its wake, they got up from their hiding place and walked to the little shack. They left their horses behind, choosing stealth over speed. The two men parted ways a good distance back, circling wide to keep from being seen.

Nathaniel had his revolver at the ready. It was warm and solid in his hand, but his stomach jumped like a jackrabbit inside him. This would be one of their biggest takedowns. 

The Bowery Boys were quick, cruel, and merciless. They’d stolen more money than the local sheriffs wanted to bother adding up. Their angry faces stared out from countless wanted posters, and the bounty on their heads was high, but there were very few who’d dare to face them.

He couldn’t mess this up.

Nathaniel stayed near the tree line, letting the cottonwoods hide his figure as he moved closer to the cabin. Even the horses who grazed lazily outside didn’t seem to notice him. That was a good start. He ducked down as he approached the back of the cabin and waited a solid minute to see if their targets reacted. Silence.

Slowly, Nathaniel raised himself up until he could see over the windowsill. A fireplace in the corner was constructed of stacked stone. Some of the stones had slipped out of place over the years, making the chimney look like it might come down any minute, but a small fire still burned inside. The packed earth floor was littered with trash and bones, as though the brothers simply flung aside whatever they were no longer using. 

The top of the table in the middle of the room was just as warped as the wood on the outside of the house, and the chairs around it had seen better days. The brothers ought to be living in a fine home considering all the money they’d stolen, but they’d chosen that miserable little room instead.

One of the Bowery Boys was seated at the table with his back to Nathaniel. He was short and heavy. Oliver. He held a cigarette in his right hand, bringing it to his lips every now and then. From Nathaniel’s vantage point, he couldn’t see anyone else.

A knock sounded on the front door, heavy enough that Nathaniel could feel it through the windowsill he clung to. It was a knock of authority, one that Nathaniel had heard many times. It made criminals jump and quaver as they realized they hadn’t gotten away with it after all. 

“Open up! This is Pinkerton Agent Horace Wilkes. You’re under arrest!”

Oliver shot up from his seat at the table. He didn’t bother putting out his cigarette, letting it fall to the table instead. He grabbed a pistol that had apparently been in the chair next to him and moved toward the door.

Another man stepped into Nathaniel’s view. This one was taller and slimmer. Theo. He carried a shotgun like it was an extension of his arm. The brothers nodded and gestured at each other, seeming to have an entire conversation without uttering a word. Theo went to the door, and Oliver ducked down beneath the window on the front side of the house.

They were going to ambush Horace.

The warning shout escaped Nathaniel’s lips just as Theo yanked open the door. Oliver turned to look directly at Nathaniel. His plump face twisted into an angry glare. He was a heavyset man, but he moved quickly with a gun. The black barrel was pointed straight at Nathaniel.

Nathaniel ducked as several shots rang out. At least two of them came through the window over Nathaniel’s head, shattering the glass and sending it tinkling to the ground all around him. He ducked, burying his head in his arm as the shards rained down on the back of his neck. 

Keeping low, he moved toward the corner of the house. He pressed his back to the rough siding, watching the broken window over his left shoulder while checking over his right shoulder for attacks from the front. Everything had fallen apart fast.

Shouts and curses arose from inside the house. “How the hell did they find us?”

“How should I know?”

“I told you to make sure there weren’t any witnesses left after that last bank job!”

“Well, I tried. I thought they were all dead, and the sheriff was coming!”

This was followed by a deep growl of frustration. “Damn it, Oliver! We have to be thorough! Now get out there and kill that bastard, whoever he is!”

A moment later, Oliver leaned out the window, his pistol at the ready. He fired one shot after another. The bullets made little explosions of dust as they hit the dirt, coming ever closer. Nathaniel scrambled around the corner as the bullets shattered the siding. Splinters flew into the air and into Nathaniel’s collar, adding to the glass shards that already resided there.

“We ain’t above killing cops,” Oliver retorted. “We already got the other one, so you might as well just give up now.”

No! Had they gotten Horace? They couldn’t have! He was the best the agency had to offer, quick with his gun and his wit even if his body was slowing down. Nathaniel’s breath came fast and hard. They’d planned so carefully. They’d tracked these men for weeks. They knew their enemy and the territory. 

Most of all, they knew each other. Horace would’ve gotten out of the way. He would’ve been the first to shoot. It couldn’t end like this.

The longer he waited there, the longer it would take to discover the truth. Nathaniel chose his moment and leaned out around the corner of the house. He fired and retreated. Then he waited a couple of seconds before he leaned out again.

Oliver was dead, his limp body hanging through the window. His pistol had fallen into the weeds that crept up from the riverbed toward the little shack.

Nathaniel scrambled to his feet and bolted to the front of the house. He had to check on Horace, but there was still another Bowery Boy to contend with. With his revolver raised and ready, he rounded the front corner.

Horace lay in the trampled dirt just outside the door. Blood soaked the front of his shirt. His arms and legs moved slightly, as though Horace was trying to figure out how to get himself off the ground.

Nathaniel’s stomach dropped into his boots. Fear and anger mixed inside him, but he tried to hold onto hope. At least Horace wasn’t dead. He longed to rush to his friend, to press his hand to the wound to stop the bleeding, but he couldn’t. Not yet. He waited at the corner of the shack for the inevitable.

“You son of a bitch!” Theo yelled. He crashed into something inside the house and cursed more quietly to himself. “You killed my brother! Now I’m going to kill you, and I’m going to make it slow! I’ll hang you from a tree and cut your toes off one by one! I’ll slice your guts open! I’ll—”

The front door banged open as Theo stormed out.

Nathaniel had just enough time to notice the glassy look in Theo’s eyes. The older Bowery brother wobbled as he looked down at Horace. He pointed his rifle at the incapacitated agent. 

“Gonna finish you first, you asshole.”

Nathaniel squeezed the trigger. The bullet thudded into Theo’s back. A second one hit the back of his head. His target slumped to his knees and then fell forward. His rifle rattled uselessly as it clattered against the siding.

“Horace!” Nathaniel raced to his partner’s side. He took a quick second to nudge Theo with his boot, but there was no sign of life left in him. Theo was no longer a threat.

He knelt next to Horace. Stripping the bandana from his face, he quickly pressed it to the wounds. But Theo Bowery had been using birdshot at close range. Nathaniel examined the damage and tried to think. 

“Just hang on, Horace.”

Horace took a gurgling breath. He brought his hand up and laid it on top of Nathaniel’s. He gave a gentle squeeze and shook his head.

“Don’t be like that, now,” Nathaniel told him. “You’re a stubborn old coot, and you can pull through this.” 

But how? The last town was half a day’s ride away, and that was only if Horace was able to actually get back on his horse. There was no guaranteeing they’d find a good doctor, or any doctor at all.

He licked his lips, but his mouth was as dry as the dusty ground that surrounded them. “I’ll rig something up so I can get you to some help,” he promised. 

It’d be faster if he went to town himself, but he wouldn’t leave him. He wouldn’t risk Horace being here alone and defenseless.

Horace gently patted Nathaniel’s hand twice. Then the last of the air escaped his lungs, and his sightless eyes stared up at the darkening sky.

“I told you to hang on, damn it!” Nathaniel checked for a heartbeat, a breath, any sign of life that could give him hope, but there was none. 

He was all alone.

Chapter Three

Elinor silently thanked the rabbit’s spirit for giving itself up so they could eat. She looked at its skinny frame, wondering how much food it would truly provide for them by the time she skinned it and they picked the meat off the bones. It was better than nothing, though, and nothing was much closer to what they had been getting lately.

She laced a rope around the rabbit’s back legs and slung the brace across her shoulders, carrying two on each side. The woven plant fibers scratched the back of her neck as she walked back to their settlement.

The smell of fires greeted her nostrils as she crossed the Red River Territory and returned home. This was one of the last holdouts against the white man’s encroachment, where stragglers from the Osage, Cherokee, Apache, Pawnee, and a few other tribes had come together to resist being moved to the government-controlled lands the rest of their people had been forced onto. 

Elinor walked among the tents that populated this area of flatland. Most of them had been patched numerous times and with whatever material was at hand, making them look more like quilts than canvases.

A tall man with broad shoulders looked up as she approached. His dark eyes narrowed, and his mouth pinched when he saw the brace of rabbits. 

“You’ve been hunting?”

It would sound like polite conversation from anyone else, but it was a challenge when it came from Chaska Red Elk. He led the Osage people who stayed here, who held the largest numbers among their population. It shouldn’t matter who they were or where they were from. In fact, for most of them, it didn’t. It only really mattered when it came to Elinor.

“I have,” she said, lifting her chin slightly. “You should come with me next time. Perhaps I’ll teach you a few things.”

He stepped in front of her, folding his arms across his wide chest. “You make jokes while our people starve.”

“And you strut around being angry instead of actually doing anything.” Elinor jiggled the rope, emphasizing her kill. “Besides, a few less people will starve today.”

His nostrils flared. “I should make you and your family leave. You’re a nuisance.”

“Unfortunately, you need me.” She sidestepped him and continued on her way. As she walked, Elinor could feel Chaska’s eyes on her back. She resisted the urge to tug her hat down and make sure it was covering her hair.

He did need her, but she needed them, too. They all needed each other if they were going to continue to survive, although Elinor secretly wondered how long that would be. A child ran across the path in front of her. He looked happy as he chased a dog, but his cheeks were sunken and his ribs stuck out. 

There were plenty more like him. The previous week, there had been three funerals.

Elinor resented the white men who had kicked the Natives off of their tribal lands and chased them off to the far corners of the country, forcing them to live like paupers. She felt a familiar twist in her stomach, because it meant she had to resent herself. Many others in the settlement felt the same way.

When she reached their corner of the camp, Takoda Greywolf looked up from the buckskin shirt he was repairing. His face had once been a terrifying one for her. As she lay sobbing on the ground as a scared child, his dark eyes and somber look had promised death. 

After so many years, though, Elinor always felt a little lighter when she saw him. He was her rescuer, a replacement for the big brother that she’d lost long ago.

He nodded. “Elinor. It looks like you were successful.”

“Successful enough,” she agreed as she stepped over to him, taking the brace of rabbits off her shoulders and setting it on a log near the fire.

His brow creased. “They’re skinny.”

“We all are,” she retorted. She felt the hunger in her stomach, but she refused to say anything about it. She wouldn’t be caught complaining.

He nodded in the direction from which she’d come. “Was that Chaska harassing you again?”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course. I can’t so much as breathe here without him having a problem with me.” There were plenty of others among their community who eyed her porcelain skin and freckles with disdain, but most didn’t show their anger toward her so ferociously.

Takoda punched his needle through the thick leather. “I can talk to him.”

She leaned over and touched his arm. “Thank you, but no. I don’t want to cause any more trouble than I already do simply by being here. I live the same way as everyone else. I dress the same way. But it’s not enough for him, and it might never be.” Elinor looked down at her calico dress, beaded on the hem and sleeves and cinched with a belt that Takoda had made for her.

“You’re right. You’re just like one of us.” With one quick movement, Takoda whipped off her hat.

Her brilliant red hair came tumbling out in a cloud. Instantly embarrassed, Elinor grabbed her hat from Takoda and hit him with it. “You’re still the same obnoxious child I’ve always known!”’

He laughed and put up his hand in self-defense. “So are you!”

Elinor clapped the hat back onto her head before he had the chance to swipe it again. “I was going to share these rabbits with you, but maybe I won’t after all.”

“You will,” he replied confidently. “Especially since I’m going to skin them for you.”

“Is that only so you can keep the pelts for yourself?” she asked.

“No, it’s because Unitsi wants to see you.” His humorous attitude quickly grew somber.

Her stomach quavered. “How is she?”

Takoda just shook his head.

“I’ll go see her.” Elinor rose and moved toward the familiar tent. 

She hadn’t expected Takoda to say anything about his mother’s condition. He never did. Elinor thought it was his way of ignoring the sickness that had taken over the older woman, of pretending that everything was all right.

A boy popped up in front of her before she could reach the tent. “Elinor! There you are! Did you get anything?”

She smiled at Micah. Five years her junior, he had instantly become her younger brother when she’d come to live with the camp. 

Elinor ruffled his hair, which made him jump backwards. “I did. Four rabbits. Takoda has them right now. Maybe you can claim a leg for yourself before he eats it all.”

Food was usually one of Micah’s greatest motivators, but he was too distracted at the moment. “Did you see the wagon train while you were out?”

Elinor frowned. “I didn’t.” Had it not been there, or had she missed it? 

She’d heard the rumors traveling through their settlement about the latest wagon train, massive groups of settlers who wanted to claim land for themselves whether anyone else was living on it or not.

“We should go look for it,” Micah suggested. “I want to see it.”

“Absolutely not,” she said firmly. He’d been just a toddler when she first met him, and Elinor had instantly felt a duty to protect him from the world. That hadn’t changed, even as he’d gotten older. “This isn’t something to be excited about. White people are dangerous.”

He tweaked a hank of her hair, which she hadn’t yet had a chance to twist back up under her hat. “Does that mean you’re dangerous?”

“Yes, it does,” she replied, her voice low and threatening. “And if you don’t start listening to me, I’ll show you just how dangerous I am!”

Micah laughed. “You could tease me with that when I was child, but not now. I know better.”

“Is that so?” Elinor’s hand darted out and pinched his side. Then she pinched his shoulder, making him jump back and slap his hands in the air as he tried to avoid her. She laughed as she held her hand in the air in front of her, continuing to pinch her thumb and finger together. “I’m going to get you!”

“That doesn’t work anymore!” Micah insisted, still squirming as she pinched his arm and then his backside. “All right! I give up!”

She blew the tips of her fingers and then slid them into her belt like she was tucking away a smoking revolver. “Let that be a lesson to you.”

“Is that how you killed the rabbits, too?” Micah asked. “Pinching them to death?”

“Whatever needs to be done. Now go on and see if your brother needs help. I’ll be back in a minute.” She stepped past him.

“But—” Micah protested. Then he saw where she was headed. “Oh.”

Smoke poured from the small hole in the top of Aiyana Greywolf’s tent, and a cloud of it rolled out as Elinor pulled back the tent flap. She coughed, and her eyes instantly watered, but she stepped inside and pulled the flap shut behind her.

In the cloudy, dark interior, she spotted Aiyana on her low bed of leaves and blankets on the floor. One of the settlement’s healers, a scrawny man named Onacona, bent over her. His voice rose and fell in his native tongue as he carefully guided a tight bundle of burning plants in the air, ensuring that not a single corner of the tent was neglected.

Elinor patiently waited. There was almost always one healer or another in here with Aiyana, so it wasn’t a surprise to see Onacona there. He always brought his smoke, and another healer brought potions. Yet another had placed poultices of herbs and mud on her throat and chest. 

Each of these brought some small amount of relief, but there was no longer any denying that Aiyana was wasting away. Elinor couldn’t overlook the blood stains on Aiyana’s bedding and handkerchiefs, nor could she ignore the deep, ragged coughs that racked the woman’s body regularly.

Onacona finished his smudging ritual. He gave Elinor a slow, deep nod and then exited the tent.

“Come here, ayoli.” Aiyana’s fingers curled as she beckoned Elinor to her side, but she didn’t have the strength to lift her hand from the blanket. “Let me see you.”

Elinor came to kneel next to her. “Unitsi,” she said softly, using the same sentimental term that Takoda and Micah did. 

This Cherokee woman wasn’t her true mother, but she’d raised her. She’d held her when she fell ill. She’d cleaned her wounds when she fell in the grasslands while playing with her brothers. She’d chided her when she’d gone off and done something stupid. Most of all, though, she’d given her a home. 

“Takoda said you wanted to see me.”

“Yes.” Aiyana curled to her side as she began to cough. She pressed a dark rag to her face, one that wouldn’t show the evidence of her sickness as much as a lighter fabric would. “It is time for us to talk.”

Elinor didn’t like the sound of that. She didn’t want to talk, not if it was what she thought Aiyana might be about to say. “I brought back four rabbits,” she said instead. “They’re a bit thin, but we can have a good meal tonight. I’ll brew the bones into broth tomorrow. That will be good for you.”

Aiyana’s arm shook as she lifted her hand to touch Elinor’s face. “You’re a good girl, Elinor. You work hard for your family and for our people. I wish you could have come to our tribe when we were still as we were, when we had our peaceful lands full of food and water. You would have liked that.”

“Yes, I would,” Elinor said softly. “But I still like our home here, with you and Takoda and Micah.”

The old woman’s hand glided gently down Elinor’s arm until it rested on the blankets once again. “You were such a frightened little tsisdu when Takoda brought you here. You have changed, but I still see it in you.”

They hadn’t spoken of Elinor’s arrival in a long time. There was much of it that still didn’t make sense to Elinor. Someone had taken her, kidnapping her as she walked back from the general store. She still clearly remembered her candy falling on the ground, the yellow disc sparkling wetly on one side and coated in dirt on the other. She could recall in an instant the pure terror and confusion that had taken over her little body. 

Yet she’d never known who those masked men were.

For many years, Elinor’s nightmares were haunted by their masked faces. The sacks sagged down around their heads, and the eye holes looked as ragged as if a mouse had chewed them into the burlap. Paired with those images was the knowledge that nobody had come to save her. Her parents hadn’t come looking for her. Nobody had listened to her screams.

It was Takoda who had saved her. Every now and then, she still joked with him that he had only brought her back to their ragtag tribe so that he could fatten her up and eat her. Takoda would respond with a comment about how she was so small and scared he thought she was a field mouse in a dress instead of a little girl.

Elinor squeezed Aiyana’s hand a little harder. “I have changed because you changed me. You’ve given me a good life.”

“And you have changed us.” Aiyana paused to cough again. “You taught my boys the white man’s words, so that they may understand the world around them as it changes, too. That is the problem, my child. Everything is changing.”

“What do you mean?” Sometimes, Aiyana would succumb to a fever that made her say strange things. Elinor pressed her hand to her adoptive mother’s forehead, but it was cool.

“We cannot live this way much longer.” Aiyana sighed, but it came out as yet another stuttering cough. “As we were pushed from our lands, we found this place where we could hide. For a time, it was good. We could still be our own people. But the cities come closer every year. Buildings cover our fields and hunting grounds, and the animals are driven farther away. The wagon trains run right past us, and soon we’ll be found.”

“We don’t know that,” Elinor insisted, though she knew it was false hope. Already, the settlement had picked up and moved several times, trying to stay out of the pathway of so-called progress. They retreated to dryer and dustier lands, ones that weren’t as easily farmed. They had to travel farther to get to good water. Though they could make supply runs into the nearby towns, each one was a risk.

“The people are at their breaking point,” Aiyana insisted, her eyes growing wide and desperate. She’d become so thin, and the hollows of her skull exaggerated the look. “They are hungry. They are angry. They are tired. I don’t know how much longer we can stay here, and I don’t know where we’ll go.”

“You should let Takoda worry about that.”

“They look to me.” Aiyana reminded Elinor of the position she held among the settlement, one that was on equal footing with Chaska’s. That had been slipping as her sickness advanced, though.

Elinor searched for answers. There had to be some solution, or at least something she could say to make Aiyana feel better about the future. There was a truth to Aiyana’s words, though. Elinor saw it for herself every day when she stepped out of her tent. The people were struggling. The hope that had once bound them together was quickly fraying.

“Do you know,” Aiyana said slowly, “that I thanked my ancestors when Takoda brought you to me?”

That made Elinor smile despite the desperate situation. “You did?”

“Yes. I had never had a daughter of my own. I held many babies in my arms that weren’t meant to stay here with me. I cried for each one of them, and I was lucky that I got to keep Takoda and Micah.”

She smiled, stretching the numerous wrinkles on her face. “I was proud of Takoda when he went on his first raid. It was not how we wanted to live, but it was the only choice we had. And so I hugged him before he left, and I told him to bring back something that would make our lives better. He came back with you, and to me you were a miracle.”

Tears streamed down Elinor’s face. She bent forward, gently pressing her forehead to Aiyana’s side. “I’m glad. I’m so glad that I’ve been here with you. You are my true family.”

“Elinor.”