Her clothing was dusty and torn.
She was watching him.
Not with fear.
With calculation.
Silas lowered the rifle slightly.
“You hurt?”
The woman said nothing.
“I don't intend to hurt you.”
Still nothing.
Silas looked around.
“You alone?”
Her eyes moved toward the canyon entrance.
That was answer enough.
Silas crouched several feet away.
“You've got blood on your sleeve.”
“It isn't all mine.”
Her English was accented but clear.
Silas studied her.
“You Apache?”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Why?”
“Because I'm trying to figure out whether I should call you by your name or by something stupid.”
For the first time, the woman's expression changed.
Almost a smile.
Almost.
“My name is Mara.”
Silas nodded.
“Silas.”
“I know.”
He frowned.
“You know me?”
“Everyone knows the man who lives beyond Red Mesa.”
Silas looked uncomfortable.
“That's unfortunate.”
Mara almost smiled again.
Then she winced.
Silas noticed.
“Let me see your arm.”
“No.”
“Fine.”
He stood.
“You can bleed alone.”
She stared at him.
“You are strange.”
“I've been told.”
He turned away.
After several seconds, she spoke.
“Wait.”
Silas stopped.
Mara slowly extended her injured arm.
He approached.
A bullet had grazed her upper arm.
The wound was ugly but not deep.
Silas cleaned it with water from his canteen.
Mara watched him.
“You're not asking what happened.”
“You'll tell me if you want.”
“And if I don't?”
“Then I won't know.”
She studied him.
“You don't trust people.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Experience.”
She looked away.
“So do I.”
Silas tied the bandage.
“There.”
Mara flexed her fingers.
“You've done this before.”
“Plenty.”
“To whom?”
“Mostly myself.”
She looked at him again.
“Who shot you?”
“People I trusted.”
That answer silenced her.
The wind began to rise.
Silas looked toward the sky.
“We need to get out of this canyon.”
“I can't ride.”
“I didn't ask you to.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Walk.”
He offered his hand.
Mara stared at it.
Then she took it.
They reached the mare.
Silas lifted Mara into the saddle.
She immediately grabbed the horn.
“You're not riding?”
“I'll walk.”
“That is foolish.”
“So I've been told.”
He led the horse through the canyon.
The storm caught them halfway home.
Rain struck the desert hard.
Lightning illuminated the mesas.
Mara looked toward the sky.
“They'll come.”
Silas stopped.
“Who?”
“The men who chased me.”
“How many?”
“Six.”
Silas glanced behind them.
“Where are they?”
“Looking for me.”
“Why?”
Mara hesitated.
“Because I took something.”
“What?”
She reached beneath her shirt and pulled out a small leather pouch.
Silas looked at it.
“What is that?”