The engine ticked. Stoner pressed his open palms into the seat. The heater struggled and wheezed. She tapped her fingers on his flat hand to get his attention. His face was tight lined, his lips white edged and dry. Harvey Stoner was a man used to getting his own way. He was not looking in her direction, too much set on gaining her full attention. He had seen Hemaucus Three Dresses dead in the field and he was still only concerned with getting his own way.

“Honey, if it’s a horse you want, I can get you a damned horse,” he said, and then he looked at her hard, as if he was willing her to choose him. And she knew Harvey Stoner could buy her a hundred horses. He believed he could replace anything, and that everything was replaceable.

She got out of Stoner’s car and he turned away from her, but he had stayed, stayed long enough to see Champagne running the fields toward her. She was happy to be free of everything for a while. She didn’t care if Dirty Swallow found her there. She lifted her arms to Champagne and nuzzled his neck. Champagne rubbed his throat on her back and she buried her face in his soft coat. When she looked up again she saw that Harvey Stoner was still watching her. It frightened her a little. He was a man who demanded too much. She was suddenly aware that he was capable of taking away the things that she loved in order to secure what he wanted. Her instincts told her she was revealing too much of herself to Harvey Stoner. She stepped back from Champagne and sat down in the tall grass. When Harvey Stoner finally left, she talked to Champagne and realized she wished she were talking to Baptiste. She tried to shake the image of Hemaucus Three Dresses dead in the tall grass. She remembered the day she had seen Hemaucus walking with Baptiste, Hemaucus alive and smiling. She thought of Jules Bart, plagued with debt, desperate, and hiding. She was beginning to understand many things she had not known before.

Charlie Kicking Woman RESERVATION DEATH

I had failed to gather all the information I needed from Louise in order to do my job. I didn’t respond to the call like an officer, because I’d been too busy giving Louise advice about Harvey Stoner. I couldn’t get the grinding voice of Stoner out of my head, the image of Stoner beside Louise in her time of trouble. They were together again. I imagined Stoner comforting Louise, stroking her hair, cooing to her. I wanted to find the two of them more than I had wanted to find the body of Hemaucus Three Dresses.