woman said, "much as you are, Cora Oglesby."
Cora laughed. "All I am is an old drunk. If that's more than I seem to be, maybe I ought to gussy myself up from time to time."
"Don't go flattering her, now," said the man. He took a step forward.
Victoria tightened her grip on the rifle. "Don't move."
"You, Victoria Dawes," said the woman. "You did not obey me."
"I tried," Victoria said, "but she insisted on coming out here before she would leave with me."
"Well, I'll be damned," Cora said, glancing at Victoria. "You wasn't joshing me after all. This squaw really did send you after me."
"Mind your words," the woman said, "or they will be your death."
"Them's some big words," Cora said. "I'd lay fifty on them being a bluff."
"You would be wise to reconsider," the woman replied. She stepped forward into the lantern's halo of light.
Victoria could not help but stare. Aside from a hide mantle around her shoulders, the woman was naked. Droplets of rain clung to her, creeping down skin the color of rust to pool at her feet. Gooseflesh covered her exposed arms and legs, but she didn't seem to feel the chill. Sodden ropes of black hair were plastered to her face, neck, and chest.
"This is my lucky day," the man said.
The woman ignored the comment. Peeling the hide mantle from her shoulders, she threw it at Cora's feet. "This is a warning."
"I seen me plenty of hides," Cora said. "Yours ain't all that special, though it could do with a good tanner. Ain't you Indians got folks that can do that?"
"Look at it closely, hunter," the woman said.
Cora rolled her eyes. Crouching down, she held the lantern over the strip of flesh. Her smirk slowly faded, and she smoothed the skin out with her free hand. The blood drained from her face. She shot a quick look at the woman before storming into the shadows.
Victoria watched the light from the hunter's lantern retreat, confused and frightened by her reaction. Left alone between the two creatures, she backed up until she could see them both without turning her head. The Indian paid her no heed, but she could feel the man's blue eyes on her. Her arms ached, but she kept the rifle raised, reminding both herself and him that she still had the power to kill him.
A roar of anger filled the barn. It was so loud and full of rage that it was barely human, and Victoria took it at first for another clap of thunder. Cora charged back into the group, revolver drawn, face red with fury. She pressed the barrel against the woman's forehead.
"What did you do?"
The woman regarded her with calm black eyes. "As I said, it is a warning."
Cora pulled the hammer back. "Where is my horse?"
"Dead."
Orange light glinted on the Colt's barrel as Cora stepped back and pulled the trigger.
Click.
Instead of a gunshot's deafening report, the revolver simply clicked.
In a blink, the woman's hand came from nowhere, knocking the gun away. It flipped end-over-end into the shadows. Cora reached for her saber, but the woman grabbed her wrist. "Be still."
Cora's other fist smashed into the woman's jaw. The woman rocked backward, but she didn't release the hunter's arm. When Cora hauled back for a second blow, the Indian caught the swinging fist in her palm. "Be still," she said again.
Cora spat in her face. "Go to hell."
"I offer you this chance, hunter," the woman said, "because we share the pain of loss."
The hunter deflated a little. "What are you talking about?"
"Do not ask idle questions. I know of your husband."
Cora lowered her arms. "How?"
"I heard you speak of him."
"When?" Cora asked, confusion bleeding into the anger on her face.
"Earlier today," the woman replied. "You told the young one of your husband as you rode toward this place."
"How do you know that?"
The woman motioned toward the hide. "I was your horse."
Cora blinked at her, then threw back her head and filled the barn with laughter. Victoria and the blue-eyed man openly stared at her, and even the Indian woman seemed confused by her reaction. True, the woman's reply made little sense, but Victoria hardly thought it merited such an uproarious guffaw.
The echoes soon died out, and Cora shook her head. "I got to hand it to you, that is the best yarn I've heard in a good while. Them boys back at the Print Shop could have a few lessons from you on spinning tales."
"I do not deceive you," the woman said.