I had no trouble finding James’s property, even in the dark. He had left a marker of stones to denote the exact center of the hundred sixty acres he’d claimed on Turtle Crick, a fair-sized tributary to the Yanube. The cairn rested in a small, lush meadow with a hillock to the north crowned by pines and oaks. Cottonwoods hugged the banks of the stream. This sheltered place would make a comfortable home.
Far removed from the familiarity of Teacher’s Mead, I sat alone before a small fire gnawing a rabbit bone and harboring doubts. In truth, my heart was not fully at peace with this thing. I had loved Billy from the moment I laid eyes on him, no matter that I had merely ten years at the time. It was only after Cut Hand and Lone Eagle and Butterfly had their time with Billy, that he had accept
