A white-faced mare.
A gray gelding.
A small bay colt.
Each was recognized by someone.
Then something unexpected happened.
Twenty women approached him.
One after another, they placed a hand over their hearts.
Mara stood in front.
"In our language," she said, "there is a phrase that means a person has entered the circle of those who are protected."
Cody looked uncomfortable.
"I didn't do much."
Mara shook her head.
"You came when others refused."
Cody looked down.
The women spoke softly among themselves.
Mara translated.
"They say you are under our protection now."
Cody almost laughed.
"I can protect myself."
Mara smiled.
"That is what stubborn men always say."
For the first time in years, Cody laughed.
It surprised him.
The sound seemed strange coming from his own throat.
The women laughed too.
Even the children who had followed the herd from a distance began smiling.
For a brief moment, there was no war.
No hatred.
No stolen land.
No old wounds.
Only two hundred horses returning home.
But Cody knew something the others did not.
Voss had mentioned buyers.
And buyers meant a larger operation.
The twelve thieves had not stolen two hundred horses on their own.
Someone had paid them.
Someone powerful.
Someone in Red Creek.
Cody looked toward the south.
"We're not finished."
Mara's smile disappeared.
"Why?"
"Because Voss said something."
"What?"
"He said we can't stop all of them."
Mara's expression hardened.
"Who is 'them'?"
Cody looked at the distant horizon.
"I think we're about to find out."
THE MAN BEHIND THE THIEVES
The herd returned to the Apache camp two days later.
Every horse was accounted for.
Every one.
The people celebrated quietly at first.
Then the children began running among the animals.
Women hugged one another.
Men sang beside the fire.
Old people touched the horses' faces.
Cody watched from a distance.
He had never understood how much a herd could mean to a community.
To him, a horse had always been transportation.
A companion.
A working animal.
But here, every horse had a story.
Every animal belonged to someone.
A family.
A memory.
A responsibility.
That evening, Mara found Cody sitting alone.
"You aren't celebrating."
"I am."
"You look miserable."
Cody smiled.
"That's just my face."
Mara sat beside him.
"You know who paid Voss?"
"Not yet."
"But you suspect someone."
"Yes."
"Who?"
"Silas Crowe."
Mara became still.
"You know him?"
"I know his reputation."
Silas Crowe owned the largest ranching operation in three counties.
He also owned the Red Creek freight company, the local saloon, and enough land to make men nervous when they looked at a map.
Cody continued.
"Voss wouldn't steal two hundred horses without knowing where they were going."
Mara looked into the fire.
"My father warned me about Crowe."
"What did he say?"
"He said Crowe wanted our land."
Cody nodded.
"That's probably the real reason."
Mara looked at him.
"The horses were a distraction."
"Exactly."
"If the tribe loses its horses, we become weaker."
"And if you're weak..."
"You leave."
Cody's expression hardened.
"And Crowe gets the land."
The following morning, Cody rode toward Red Creek.
Mara insisted on coming.
So did six other riders.
Cody didn't argue.
When they entered town, people stared.
The twenty women from the camp were already becoming a story.
By noon, everyone in Red Creek knew the horses had been recovered.
By one, everyone knew Cody had helped.
By two, Silas Crowe knew.
Cody found him inside the freight office.
Crowe was a tall man in his fifties, dressed in expensive black clothing.
He smiled when Cody entered.
"Mercer."
Cody stopped.
"You know me."
"I know everybody who enters my town."
"This isn't your town."
Crowe's smile faded.
"You've been talking to the Apaches."
"Yes."
"You recovered the horses."
"Yes."
"You should have left them where they were."
Cody stared at him.
"Why?"
Crowe leaned against the desk.
"Because you're interfering with business you don't understand."
Cody's eyes hardened.
"What business?"
Crowe didn't answer.
Cody stepped closer.
"The horses weren't worth enough money to justify twelve armed men."
Crowe remained silent.
"Which means they were worth something else."
Crowe smiled again.
"You are a clever man."
"So I guessed right."
"You should leave."
"Not until you answer."
Crowe's hand moved toward a drawer.
Cody noticed.
"Don't."
Crowe stopped.
For several seconds, the two men stared at one another.
Then Crowe laughed.
"You think you're a hero."
"No."
"You think saving two hundred horses makes you important?"
"No."
"You'll die for people who don't even belong here."
Cody's voice became quiet.