Caleb kept his eyes fixed straight ahead, his right hand resting comfortably on the stock of his Winchester. Nalin sat upright on the stallion's back, her dark blanket wrapped tightly around her frame, looking neither left nor right as they passed through the ring of hostile eyes.
They left the wooden buildings of Oakhaven behind, entering the vast, arid expanse of the high desert. The heat rippled off the red rocks and sandy washes, and the only sound was the rhythmic crunch of horseshoes and boot heels on dry gravel.
For two hours, they traveled south in complete silence. Caleb walked at a steady, tireless pace, leading the stallion through winding canyons and dry creek beds. He knew the geography of the territory well enough to know that Vance and his cronies would not pursue them immediately—they had their gold—but he also knew that out in the borderlands, law and savagery were often the exact same thing.
When the sun began its long descent toward the western ridges, painting the sky in deep shades of crimson and violet, Caleb led the horse into a secludedbox canyon sheltered by high towering walls of red sandstone. A small spring trickled from a crack in the rock, feeding a patch of green scrub grass and a solitary cottonwood tree.
Caleb stopped the horse and offered his hand to help Nalin down. She ignored his hand, sliding down from the saddle under her own strength, though her legs buckled slightly as her feet touched the ground. She caught herself against the horse's flank, breathing heavily.
Caleb made no attempt to restrain her or command her. He walked over to a dry fallen branch, pulled out his knife, and began shaving thin tinder to light a camp fire.
"You are free to go if you wish," Caleb said quietly, breaking the long silence between them. "The mountains are five miles east. If you walk through the canyon, you'll reach the ridge before total darkness."
Nalin stood beside the buckskin stallion, her hands resting on the smooth leather of the saddle. She watched him strike a piece of flint against steel, catching a spark on the wood shavings until a small tendril of white smoke rose into the cool evening air.
"Why did you do it?" she asked suddenly.
Her voice was low, melodic, and surprisingly fluent in English, carrying a gravelly tone born of thirst and exhaustion.
Caleb blew gently on the small flame, adding small pine twigs until the fire crackled to life. He looked up at her through the thin rising smoke.
"Because no human being belongs on a chain," Caleb replied flatly. "And because I’ve seen enough cruelty done in the name of the law to last me a lifetime."
Night fell fast over the desert, bringing a sharp, biting cold that contrasted sharply with the stifling heat of the day. The fire blazed brightly in the hidden canyon, casting flickering orange shadows against the sheer cliff walls.
Caleb sat on an overturned rock, cleaning his rifle with an oiled rag. Across the fire, Nalin sat cross-legged on the wool blanket, clutching a tin cup of hot coffee in her hands. He had shared his meager trail rations with her—salted beef, hardtack, and dried apples—and she had eaten slowly, deliberately, savoring every bite with silent gratitude.
As the smoke twisted up toward the starry sky, Nalin broke the quiet.
"I was not scouting for a war party," she said softly, staring into the bright coals of the fire. "My younger brother was bit by a rattlesnake two days ago in the upper hills. His leg swelled, and his fever was high. I came down into the valley to gather roots of the silver-leaf plant that grow only near the riverbed. That was when the men with the brass tin stars found me."
Caleb paused his cleaning, looking across at her. "They didn't care about the roots."
"No," Nalin said, her voice darkening. "They saw an Apache. They saw a prize to show their people. They took my pony, burned my medicine pouch, and dragged me to their town. They told me I would hang when the sheriff returned from the county seat."
"Vance is a bully with a badge," Caleb said, setting his rifle down across his knees. "He feeds on fear because he has nothing else."