“Mornin’, friend,” Wyatt offered. “Now I already told you good people that I ain’t interested in followin’ you all into some town if that’s why you’re here. But there’s coffee on the stove and a seat by the fire if it’s a warming rest stop you came lookin’ for.”

The stranger showed no interest in Wyatt’s nervous invitation. He lowered the lamp, setting the staff inside a metal sheath just below the stirrups with one hand and placing the reins over the bucking rolls with the other. But he never looked down.

Gloved fingers, as long as winter shadows, slipped along the side of the saddle to a velveteen bag. They fingered the drawstring, reaching deep inside, then withdrew in liquid motion as if the object the stranger sought was always within his command. He held his arm out and the gloved hand unfurled like a black flower, revealing the contents of his palm. Inside it was a gift.

The slice of raw meat was as pink as clouds at dusk. And juicy. Wyatt’s heart bucked against his chest. It was so much fresher than the mouse, but he’d made a pact with Daisy not to give in to this urge. They both had. The hunger was the way of monsters and something Wyatt would have done everything in his powers to resist right now, had every pulse of his heart not strained so.

Wyatt took the piece of meat, nodding his thanks now that the two of them seemed to have come to an understanding, and the stranger’s hand withdrew. And as he brought the glistening flesh to his lips, he observed a pair of eyes beneath the skull’s empty sockets and the stranger leaned in.

A thin voice, as ragged as a blade of grass shredded in the wind, broke from behind the mask. It carried with it just a single word.

“Timberdark.”

Wyatt didn’t really catch what the stranger was saying. The promise of meat made the inside of his mouth tingle. Thrilled, he took a bite.

“Thank you, sir,” he said wiping drool on the back of his hand. “Thank you.”

But the stranger showed no interest in such niceties and merely repeated the word.

“Timberdark.”

Wyatt realized the stranger’s offering came at a price and looked up. “Is that some town you seek, my friend?”

The eyes behind the deer’s empty sockets blinked.

“Timberdark.”

“I know,” said Wyatt suddenly troubled that the word was not familiar to him. “I’m real sorry I can’t help you, but that’s not someplace I know of.”