Chapter 120

So far as I knew, no one questioned the story of the captain and the last renegade battling one another to the death—not even when a mustang no one could explain was discovered lying dead nearby. I gave thanks to the Great Mystery I was aboard Whisper that day instead of Patch. The whole countryside would have recognized my pinto.

Although Andre was no longer semi-catatonic, he had little interest in much of anything except working the farm. Rejecting our offer to accompany him, a week later, he hitched up his wagon and brought Libby home. He tended the child dutifully, but affection somehow seemed to be lacking. It seemed at times he felt guilty that they had survived.

One night, James looked up from the Bible where he’d been seeking solace in the Book of Psalms. “I’m worried, Otter. Things are not right in that household.”

I glanced up. “You don’t think he’ll do the child harm?”