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the children had survived. His and Isaiah’s. Every one.

For thirty thousand years of human survival, protecting the children had been enough. As Cameron climbed into another man’s truck, with another man’s wife, he regarded the kids crammed into the old pickup. At last, their bellies were full, and for the moment they were safe.

He counted that as a win.

23

Sage Ross

Zumwalt Prairie

Wallowa County, Oregon

It was the brightest morning Sage had ever seen, and he’d forgotten his sunglasses. The snow sparkled for ten miles in every direction.

Aimee Butterton stood by his side, dressed in a snow suit and wearing snowshoes. They’d been working their way close enough to the elk for Sage to attempt a shot with his 30-30, but so far, they’d bumped the herd twice without getting within three hundred yards.

Their next gambit would be to push the herd toward another hunting party farther up the slope of the Zumwalt to the north. Maybe the elk would hit those guys’ wind, double back and run past Sage and Aimee. There were six elk herds they could see from their location and ten hunting parties working them. The elk would eventually get harassed enough to filter into the forests at the edge of the prairie and disappear for the day.

He and Aimee had permission from Wallowa to hunt the morning, so it’d be now or never. It was mid-January and Wallowa County had graciously offered permission for Union County hunters to cull the elk herd to reasonable numbers. Union County needed meat to hold them over through winter and spring, when their own cattle would be ready to butcher, so Wallowa gave them permission to take a thousand elk. It’d put a big dent in Union County’s need for fat and protein.

“You’re going to have to shoot,” Sage said. Aimee’s father’s rifle could reach a lot farther than the 30-30.

“You sure?” Aimee asked with a tilt of her head.

“Yes. Obviously.” Sage couldn’t entirely conceal the irritation in his voice.

“You okay?” she asked as she shucked a round into the 30-06. She handled it with ease and familiarity—glancing down to check for brass as the cartridge slid home. He hadn’t asked, but he was sure she’d killed deer and elk many times before.

“I’m fine,” he said, his voice flat.

The elk turned when they caught scent of the other hunting party, and they angled back across the rolling prairie. They looked like they might come within four hundred yards.

“If they come close enough, you take the shot,” she said.

That wasn’t going to happen. The elk had seen them before and elk weren’t stupid.

Sage, on the other hand, still felt pretty stupid. He’d been used by a crooked cop, a disgruntled daughter, a housewife spy mastermind and an affable rancher. As down-homey as they all seemed, they were all serpents and he had been their prey. He understood why they’d done it, but it was a thing, now, between he and Aimee. Deep down, he found that being played like a wandering puppy did not make him hot like a hound dog. Quite the opposite.

Commissioner Pete had used him for good cause, but Sage’s life had been on-the-line the whole time, and it’d been without his consent. If they’d told him what they were up to, he might’ve helped. At least, he’d like to think he would’ve helped. To say he felt butt-hurt would be an understatement.

“I don’t think this is going to work out, Aimee.” Sage didn’t know how else to express his feelings of helplessness and betrayal.

Aimee looked him in the eyes with sadness, but not surprise. She nodded and turned back to the approaching elk. They’d picked their path and the herd was committed. They’d give her an opportunity.

Sage and Aimee slid out of their backpacks and set them on the snow as a bench rests for her to steady her rifle. It’d be a long shot—at least three-fifty. She’d take it prone.

“I don’t blame you. What we did to you wasn’t cool,” she whispered. The elk already knew they were there, but they’d cut close enough anyway. They had no other option.

Sage grunted. It didn’t really matter. He couldn’t go back to Union County without risk of reprisals from what was left of The Five. He wasn’t welcome in the Butterton home now. Mrs. Butterton blamed him for Captain Chamber’s arrest. It wasn’t clear if she knew about Aimee’s part. Mrs. Butterton would forgive blood a lot faster than she’d forgive him.

Sage lived with the Lathrop family now on their ranch in Wallowa, and he’d be there through the winter. The big snows had begun, one or two a week, and the risk of travel toward Utah had escalated beyond reason. He could set off again in the spring—strong and healthy.

The elk spread out in a single-file line and side-hilled across the slope between the couple and the other hunting party.

When the elk reached the closest point, Aimee settled into the scope, let out a slow breath and squeezed the trigger.

The rifle roared, then settled on the packs. A cow elk stumbled, turned around once, then fell sideways onto the snow. The herd danced in circles, confused, then the lead cow tucked her head and trotted forward, continuing on their way. The others stepped around the fallen companion. The diminished herd loped toward the tree line, then disappeared.

Aimee looked up and smiled. The elk was her family’s only meat for the duration. It was fortunate she’d put one on the ground, given that their former patron was now locked in the Wallowa County jail.

“Please tell your mom I helped with this,” Sage said. “I care about you. Your family’s hospitality meant a lot to me.”

Aimee nodded. “She’ll come around. Chambers wasn’t good for her.”

Sage nodded. One part of him wanted to argue—to rail on her for not trusting him with the truth. He felt like he’d played the part of one of the bad guys, but he should’ve been one of the good guys. He blamed

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