The only adult Wolf who had been left at the settlement was the pack’s nanny. The rest of the adults had gone out to deal with the humans and had died.

The pups are orphans now, all of them, Jesse thought.

“Jesse?” Abigail Burch this time. “Can’t we stop a minute? The children are tired.”

Tired was better than dead.

Jesse hesitated when Rachel rushed back to her. But the Wolf seemed excited, relieved. A couple of minutes later, Jesse shared that relief. Water flowed into a pool before the creek continued down the hills to the settlement. There were rocks that provided shelter, and trees that would provide shade. Couldn’t make a fire here because they were in the wild country. Joe had warned her about that. But they could huddle up in blankets to keep warm if they had to stay up here overnight.

Once they had set up camp, she would figure out where they could set up the latrine—and where to picket the burros.

“We’re here,” she said, moving aside. “Step lively, now. Everybody in.”

Not all the Prairie Gold women had come with them. A few had sent messages that they’d had a feeling they needed to stay at the farms and help look after the animals. But they had sent their children. In truth, they had a point. Meg Corbyn hadn’t said to hide the women, just the children. Just the Wolves.

Feeling Rachel pressed against her leg, trembling, Jesse felt a pang of grief as she remembered Joe standing outside the general store, ready to step in if needed but allowing Rachel to make her first foray into a human store on her own. Jesse hadn’t had time to get to know him well, and she regretted that. Working together, they could have bridged the differences between terra indigene and Intuits, could have built a partnership the same way other places were trying to do.

Rachel whined.

“Hush up,” Jesse snapped at the women and children whose voices had been steadily rising. Stepping into the gap between rocks, she raised her rifle, prepared to fire.

The women fell silent or frantically tried to hush the children.

Nothing. Nothing. Except the pack’s nanny had led the puppies to a hiding place behind a fallen tree. Except Rachel stood at her side, panting and trembling.

Nothing but an odd silence.

Then something shimmered on the game trail. Something her eyes couldn’t quite see.

Something big.

“That’s far enough,” she warned.

A wet snarl—more a feel in the air than an actual sound.

“We have permission to be here, and we’re staying until I’m told it’s safe to bring the youngsters back to their homes.”

Rachel suddenly shifted, now a human teenage girl crouching beside her. “Jesse Walker is our friend. She... was Joe Wolfgard’s friend.”