Chapter 18

• When Ted Danny rode into Grimwood’s encampment that evening, he did so without the need for formalities or endless questions. In the world of the long riders, inquiries were as unwelcome as cold water in a blazing desert, for these men were determined to let bygone days fade into the smoky haze of their memories. Their past was spoken of only in half-whispered anecdotes, where names were blurred and identities dissolved into legend. One might hear a gruff voice begin, "I heard about a feller over to the Circle Y outfit that was once ridin’…" but by the time the tale was finished, the real names had been scrubbed away by instinct and time. In such a frugal realm of words, Ted Danny had emerged as the most popular man among them_ even the taciturn and somber Cole Grimwood, known for his unyielding gaze, held a quiet affection for him.
• "Ever hear that whistlin’ today?" Grimwood finally asked, his voice deep as the night itself.
• Jim Case shook his head, while Bart Jordan remarked, with a wry twist of his lips, that it was a stroke of uncommon fortune that this Mercer feller hadn’t begun his noisy performance. For a long while thereafter, Danny sat down to eat his supper in near silence, his keen ears attuned to every murmur and creak, always waiting for the sound of Ellie’s horse_ a signal of hope amidst the relentless darkness.