"You Navajo folk got religion, right? Not like Catholics or Protestants or whatnot, but you all have spirits and magic and such?"
"Yes," Naalnish said.
"That's what I figured," Cora said. "See, this here woman what's been giving poor Vicky so much trouble uses that spirit magic of yours to pull off her tricks, I reckon. Spooky stuff, what's more. She made it where my gun didn't work, and said she even turned into my horse to trick us."
As she spoke, the man's face clouded over. He leaned back in his chair. When Cora finished, he turned to his friend and spoke in a low, hurried voice. Ata'halne's eyes locked onto the hunter as he listened. Like Naalnish, his face betrayed a deep concern at what he was hearing. He responded to the other man, his voice hushed as though he was afraid the two women would overhear.
Naalnish abruptly stood. "We cannot speak of this."
"What's that, now?" Cora asked.
"To speak of this evil is to call to it," he said. "We can say no more."
"Now, you just wait one minute," Cora said, rising to her feet. "How can you call yourself a man if you just light out and leave this poor girl to her fate?"
"She is not of our people," Naalnish replied. He met Cora's gaze without flinching. "We have women and children, brothers and sisters. Why should we risk their lives for her? The evil that you speak of will devour them all. We will not help you."
"Please." The look of distress on Victoria's face was genuine. "I don't know what to do."
The Indian turned away from them, placing a hand on Ata'halne's shoulder before walking toward the door. Ata'halne rose to follow his companion. His black eyes lingered on Victoria's face for a moment before he, too, turned and left the saloon.
Cora sat back down as the batwing doors creaked shut. "Well, that puts a burr under our saddle, don't it?"
"You do not seem all that concerned."
"Well, what to do about it?" Cora said. "Ain't like we can go clinging to their boots and begging. Indians don't take kindly to that sort of display, and that's one thing we happen to agree on. I ain't exactly the begging type."
"You aren't the smart type either, are you?" Victoria asked.
Cora held up a hand. "Hey, now, no need to get nasty about it. So these two fellers are too yellow to lend us a hand. They ain't the only two Indians in the world. We'll find us a one that ain't such a coward."
"Why? So you can drive them off again?" Victoria's chair nearly fell over as she stood. "What if none of them offer to help us? How will we get ourselves out of this mess?" Cora started to speak, but Victoria was too angry and too frightened to slow down. "I'll tell you. We won't. We won't because you have the diplomatic subtlety of a cannon. You have condemned us to death, but I refuse to just sit about and wait for it. If this witch woman wants to kill me, I will make her catch me first. I'm going back to England. Even if you refuse to come. I have had enough of your insults, your condescension, and your recklessness, and I won't stand for another minute of it. Goodbye, Cora Oglesby."
Victoria turned on her heel, ignoring the spikes of pain shooting through her feet. She half-expected to hear Cora's voice calling her back, but the hunter remained silent. Not that it mattered. Cora could scream and beg for her to stop. Her mind was made up. It had been a mistake to come out here in the first place, the mad delusion of a girl lost to grief. She should have listened to her doubts and abandoned this quest before it had ever gone this far. The sooner she boarded a train bound for New York, the sooner she could begin forgetting this miserable little town and its horrible hero.
Outside, the sun had already transformed the streets of Albuquerque into dust-lined ovens. Victoria pulled her hat down against the glare and stormed down the wooden sidewalk. With every painful step, her longing to see the cobblestone streets and green pastures of Oxford increased. She could have been seated in her father's study that morning, learning all she could about managing the investments he had left to her. In the afternoon, she might have taken a carriage to a friend's estate to take