She knew him.

"Tomas."

He was already coming.

Solana thundered down the slope, her hooves pounding the hard earth. Dust exploded behind her. Tomas leaned forward over the mare's neck, rifle in one hand.

Jonah remained on the ridge.

He fired deliberately.

Not at people.

At wagon wheels.

At posts.

At weapons.

At anything that could make armed men duck.

A barrel beside the water trough exploded.

A saloon window shattered.

One of Harlan's riders threw himself behind a horse.

Tomas reached the gallows.

"Evelyn!"

She looked up.

Their eyes met.

For a heartbeat, neither moved.

Then Evelyn ran.

A bullet struck the gallows post beside her.

Another tore through her dress.

Tomas leaned from the saddle, caught her around the waist, and pulled her onto Solana.

Evelyn clung to him.

"You came."

His breath was ragged.

"Did you think I wouldn't?"

"I hoped you wouldn't die."

"Still working on that."

She almost laughed.

Then Sheriff Creed appeared.

He had recovered his revolver.

"Tomas!"

The sheriff raised it.

Tomas wheeled Solana.

Creed fired.

The bullet missed.

Tomas kicked the sheriff hard in the chest.

Creed fell into the dust.

Solana raced toward the southern road.

Behind them, Mercy Crossing became a storm of gunfire and screaming.

At the edge of town, Victor Harlan and two riders tried to block the road.

Tomas reached for his rifle.

Evelyn stopped him.

"I can do it."

She pulled the small revolver from his belt.

Her hands trembled.

She aimed.

She fired.

The bullet struck the ground in front of Harlan's horse.

The animal reared.

Harlan fell backward into the road.

Tomas stared at Evelyn.

"You aimed for him."

"I aimed near him."

"That is different."

"Very."

He laughed.

Then they rode.

They did not stop until Mercy Crossing was far behind.

The desert opened before them.

They traveled through dry washes and narrow canyons, hiding whenever they heard riders.

By sunset, they reached a small canyon where cottonwoods grew beside a thin ribbon of water.

Jonah was waiting.

He had taken a different route.

He sat beside a spare horse with two canteens.

"Well," he said, looking at them, "that was almost the worst plan I've ever agreed to."

Evelyn slid from Solana.

Her legs collapsed.

Tomas caught her.

Jonah looked at the bruising around her throat.

"You two look like trouble that learned how to walk."

Evelyn managed a tired smile.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me. Creed will come."

Tomas nodded.

"He'll bring Harlan."

"And anyone else Harlan can pay."

They settled into the canyon.

There was no fire.

Evelyn slept fitfully.

Each time she woke, she felt the rope again.

Tomas remained beside her.

Near dawn, she opened her eyes.

He was still awake.

"You should sleep," she whispered.

"So should you."

"I keep feeling the trapdoor."

Tomas's expression changed.

"I keep seeing it."

She reached for his hand.

He took it.

"They would have killed you too," she said.

"They've tried before."

"That isn't comforting."

"I wasn't trying to comfort you."

She smiled faintly.

"What happens now?"

Tomas looked toward the canyon entrance.

"We run."

"And after that?"

He looked back at her.

"After that, we build something no sheriff can name."

She studied him.

"You really believe we can?"

"I have to."

Before noon, they heard horses.

Six riders entered the canyon.

Creed rode at the front.

Harlan rode beside him.

Tomas had expected them.

Jonah had too.

They moved to higher ground.

Evelyn remained below with a rifle.

Creed stopped.

"Tomas Redfeather!"

His voice echoed.

"You are harboring a condemned criminal!"

Tomas answered from above.

"No lawful authority followed us here."

Creed's face reddened.

"Give her to me!"

Evelyn stepped from the trees.

Creed stared.

Her dress was torn.

Her throat bruised.

Her hair hung loose.

But the rifle in her hands did not shake.

"I am not his to give."

Creed glared at her.

"You should have died yesterday."

"The law tried."

She took another step.

"It failed."

Harlan raised his pistol.

Tomas fired.

The pistol flew from Harlan's hand.

He screamed.

Jonah fired a warning shot over Creed's head.

Leaves fell from a branch.

"You get one warning," Jonah called.

"That was it."

The posse hesitated.

Two men immediately turned their horses.

Another dropped his rifle.

Harlan cursed them.

Creed remained.

His hatred was stronger than his courage.

"This is not over," he said.

Tomas appeared on the ridge.

"No."

He looked directly at the sheriff.

"It never was."

Creed turned his horse.

The posse withdrew.

Evelyn exhaled.

Jonah lowered his rifle.

"Now," he said, "we leave."

They did.

For three weeks, they moved through hidden country.

They traded with people who asked no questions.

A widow near the San Pedro River gave Evelyn a blue dress.

An old Mexican vaquero removed the bullet from Tomas's arm.

A family living beside an isolated trail gave them bread.

Eventually Jonah brought them to an old cabin beside a river.

The cabin was crooked.

The roof leaked.

The porch sagged.

A raccoon lived beneath the floorboards.

Evelyn looked inside.

"It is beautiful."

Tomas stared at the leaking roof.

"Are you sure the rope didn't damage your judgment?"

She smiled.