I received that look-down-the-nose stare I was already familiar with. “Poker Joe will no longer lead us on the trail.”

I peered closer at Hawk. He squatted on his heels by the fire, running a finger in little circles in the dirt. His unease seemed to seep out of his pores and into our space.

“That’s not good?” I asked, still wanting more information.

“It’s terrible.” Hawk turned around and started running his fingers through his hair, an absent-minded, homey sort of gesture I was used to from other late nights. You know, like putting out the cat and locking the front door. Freed from its confinement, his hair fell in curly waves to his shoulders. “All Looking Glass wants to do is slow down.” He spoke with a dourness that did sound Scottish.

“We’re almost to the Canadian border, aren’t we?” I asked. “And isn’t General Howard several days behind?”

“Come on, Liz, when was the last time you looked at a map?” he exclaimed.

He had me there. Geography has never been my strong suit. Still, Montana Territory struck me as the perfect place to disappear, and so I told him.

Hawk looked at me like he wanted to bite off my head, but sighed instead. “Do you honestly think that Old Day After Tomorrow hasn’t telegraphed all the forts between here and the Dakotas for reinforcements?”

“Did you mention that in the council?”

“No. I cannot say yes or no in councils yet, but I can tell you that Poker Joe got excited and asked Looking Glass how he planned to deal with Bluecoats who would ride at him from many directions.”

“What did Looking Glass say to that?”

Hawk shook out his buffalo robe and lay beside me. By tacit agreement after the wrangler, we had abandoned the notion of one side of our tiny shelter for him and the other for me and Blue Mountain Woman. He turned to face me. “He ignored Poker Joe like he was not even there. It seemed rude to me, but no one challenged him. Not even Joseph.” He stared up through part of burned canvas to the sky. “We are all tired.”

That sad fact had come to govern our travel, with the choosing of Looking Glass to replace Poker Joe as leader. I was weary, and I had only been traveling since July. The People had been on the run since early spring. They would have to trust to luck, a notoriously fickle companion, to get them across the border.

Blue Mountain lay down on the other side of me and we composed ourselves for sleep. After drowsy words with Blue Mountain Woman, I turned toward Hawk. His hair smelled so fragrantly of wood smoke. I’ve always liked that aroma, and to this day, I can’t smell wood of a dying campfire without thinking of the journey and The People.