Blaze felt her presence at his shoulder. It was close, calm, and patient. He tried once more. This time, he took his time, lined up the sight, and fired.
The can leapt and tumbled into the dust.
Marisol smiled. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Graycloud rose, dusting off his hands.
“Enough shooting,” he said. “Now he learns to see.”
“See what?” Blaze asked.
Graycloud motioned for him to follow. They walked past the sparse brush and into the low basin where the sand darkened with scattered stones. Marisol looked equally confused but decided not to question the Indian’s motives. Graycloud crouched and pointed to the ground.
“What do you see?”
Blaze squinted. “Just dirt.”
“Look closer.”
He crouched beside him. There were faint marks in the sand. Half-moon shapes spaced evenly apart.
“Hoofprints?” he guessed.
“Three riders, heading north,” Graycloud said. “Two heavy, one light. The light one’s horse is younger.See the sharper edge here?” He traced a finger along the impression. “The dirt’s newer too. Maybe three hours old.”
“You can tell all that just from that?” Blaze asked.
“I can tell more,” Graycloud said. “One of them limps. That mark there...boot drag. His left leg drags shorter than the right.”
“That’s . . .” Blaze shook his head. “That’s incredible.”
“It’s survival,” Graycloud said simply. “You’ll learn. Come.”
He led Blaze farther into the basin, showing him signs Blaze would have never noticed. Broken twigs, a single hair on a branch, faint ash buried under dust.
“This is how you find men like the Riders,” Graycloud said. “They move fast, but the earth remembers.”
Blaze crouched again, running a finger over a print. “You been tracking them long?”
“Since they killed my uncle,” he replied, his eyes darkening.
Marisol seemed to hold her breath behind them.
The words hung heavy. Blaze didn’t speak for a while.
“You’ll get your justice,” Blaze said after a few seconds.
“I’m not sure it’s justice I’m after,” Graycloud replied.
By midday, they stopped to rest. Marisol sat under a rock shelf cleaning her rifle, Graycloud sharpened his knife, and Blaze lay on his back staring at the sky. The sun was a cruel coin overhead.
“You two ever stop?” Blaze asked.
“Not when there’s blood to answer for,” Marisol said without looking up. “Of course, I’m only speaking for myself.”
Blaze turned his head toward her. “Can you tell me what happened?”
Her hand stilled on the rifle. She stared at it for a long time before answering. “They took my brother,” Marisol said. “Shot him down. He was just a guard. They killed him for the gold, then laughed about it.”
