“Tom, don’t,” Mom said, but it was too late. Mr. Walker was walking away from them, striding down the quiet street, his footsteps spraying up snow.

The women—and Leni—rushed along behind him, slipping and sliding in their haste.

“Don’t, Tom, really,” Mama said.

He wrenched open the saloon’s door. Leni instantly smelled damp wool and unwashed bodies and wet dog and burnt wood.

There were at least five men in here, not counting the hunched, toothless bartender. It was noisy: hands thumping on whiskey-barrel tables, a battery-operated radio blaring out “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown,” men talking all at once.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Mad Earl was saying, his eyes glazed. “The first thing they’ll do is take over the banks.”

“And seize our land,” Clyde said, the words slurred.

“They won’t take my g-damn land.” This from her dad. He stood beneath one of the hanging lanterns, swaying unsteadily, his eyes bloodshot. “No one takes what’s mine.”

“Ernt Allbright, you piece of shit,” Mr. Walker hissed.

Dad staggered, turned. His gaze went from Mr. Walker to Mama. “What the hell?”

Mr. Walker stormed forward, knocking chairs aside. Mad Earl scrambled to get out of his way. “A pack of wolves attacked your place last night, Allbright. Wolves,” he said again.

Dad’s gaze went to Mama. “Wolves?”

“You are going to get your family killed,” Mr. Walker said.

“Look here—”

“No. You look,” Mr. Walker said. “You aren’t the first cheechako to come up here with no goddamn idea what to do. You aren’t even the stupidest, not by a long shot. But a man who doesn’t take care of his wife…”

“You got no right to say anything about keeping a woman safe, do you, Tom?” Dad said.

Mr. Walker grabbed Dad by the ear and yanked so hard he yelped like a girl. He dragged Dad out of the smelly bar and into the street. “I should kick your ass around the block,” Mr. Walker said in a harsh voice.

“Tom,” Mama pleaded. “Please. Don’t make it worse.”

Mr. Walker stopped. Turned. He saw Mama standing there terrified, nearly in tears, and Leni saw him pull himself from the brink of rage. She’d never seen a man do it before.

He stilled, frowned, then muttered something under his breath and yanked Dad to the bus. Opening the door, he lifted Dad as easily as if he were a kid and shoved him into the passenger seat. “You’re a disgrace.”

He slammed the door shut and then went to Mama.

“Will you be okay?” Leni heard him ask.

Mama whispered an answer Leni couldn’t hear, but she thought she heard Mr. Walker whisper, Kill him, and saw Mama shake her head.

Mr. Walker touched her arm, barely, just for a second, but Leni saw.

Mama gave him an unsteady smile and said, “Leni, get in the bus,” without looking away from him.