For one crystallized moment, Keech dared not blink or breathe as he took in this new vision of Sam. A thousand warring emotions blustered through his heart. He couldn’t discern whether he was seeing the real Sam or another hallucination. Ignatio was dead and gone, which meant the boy standing before him couldn’t be another shadow demon, but Rose’s magic had deceived Keech so many times before. This Sam looked different in subtle ways—a few months older, his features weathered by months of traveling over frigid wilderness—and the changes made sense in a way the dream Sam never did. Keech’s gut told him this was the real Sam, yet his heart pulled back from the idea, afraid to open up to the pain of being hoodwinked yet again.
Keech shuffled closer. “Sam? Are you a … trick?”
The blond-haired boy sprinted toward Keech, peeling off his riding gloves. He opened his arms wide for a hug, but Keech approached the kid with caution and reached out with one hand. Sam mirrored the motion, and their fingers touched, hesitated, then locked together.
Keech cried out in shock. The boy’s skin felt warm and alive—nothing like the ice-cold phantom on the Sante Fe Trail. Sam grinned. “It’s me, Keech. We’ve come a long way.”
Still grasping Sam’s living hand, Keech peered at the weatherworn form of Bose Turner. “Sheriff? Is that you, too?”
Sheriff Turner had grown a bulky beard to go with his mustache, and the shoulder that Bad Whiskey’s thrall had wounded in the town of Whistler drooped a bit. He said, “In the flesh, Mr. Blackwood. It’s good to see you again. We’ve been chasing your trail for over two months now. I was beginnin’ to wonder if we’d ever catch up.”
Keech peered skeptically at Sam again. “But how? I saw the flames overtake the Home!”
Sam unlocked his fingers and placed his hand on Keech’s shoulder. “It was chaos that night when Bad Whiskey took Pa. It was hard to see anything true. I’m afraid you saw only a tiny scrap of what happened, Keech. Remember what Pa used to say in the training circle? ‘When survival’s at stake—’”
“‘The mind can deceive,’” Keech finished, then seized the moment to hug Sam with all his might. “You’re real! You’re actually real.”
Sam’s laughter filled the summit. “Real as the rain, Keech. The sheriff told me how you figured we all had died in the fire. But it was all a big mix-up.”
Keech said, “I don’t understand, Sam. You were in the flames. You were signaling me to run ’cause you were a goner!”
Sam laughed again. “I was telling you to head back to Big Timber, where we could meet up. Pa Abner knew, Keech. He knew the Reverend’s men would come after him someday. So he put precautions all over the Home. He built a secret tunnel out of the cellar, a shaft that ran all the way down to the southern woods. That’s how we all survived. Granny Nell led everyone to safety. Later, I met up with the sheriff.” Sam glanced at Bose Turner and smiled.
Sheriff Turner continued the story. “After I returned from Bone Ridge, I found your family alive and well in Big Timber. They caught me up on their side of things, and I told Sam here about your brave stand against Bad Whiskey. I realized I’d sent you Lost Causes to the town of Wisdom for a new lead, so we decided to hunt down your trail to bring you home. But your team had already ridden too far; your trail vanished for a long while in Kansas.”
Quinn gazed around at the others, clearly marveling at the sudden turn of events. “I’d wager it vanished because we hopped all the way to Oregon Territory.”
“To Bonfire Crossing,” Strong Heart added with a curious grin.
Turner looked impressed. “So you found the Crossing after all.”
Keech gripped his orphan brother’s arm. Out of everything he was hearing, he still couldn’t believe one impossible detail. “Sam, you’re saying the whole family is alive? Patrick, Little Eugena, Robby? And Granny Nell, too?”
“For the smartest kid I know, you sure don’t listen good,” said Sam. “That’s what I’m tellin’ you, all right. They’re all waitin’ back in the Timber!”
Keech’s knees gave up their strength, and he crumpled where he stood. But Sam caught his arms and tugged him back up. Indeed, the impossible had happened. Keech’s family had returned to him.
Moving to Minerva, Keech laid his hand on the pony’s neck. “Hello, sweet girl. I never thought I’d see you again.”
As Minerva nuzzled Keech’s arm, Sam said, “I see you got yourself a cremello stallion, Keech. Where’s Felix?”
Shaking with emotions too profound to grasp, Keech said, “He passed on to the next meadow. I’ll tell you the whole story someday.” He patted Minerva’s neck once more, then turned to his trailmates. “Everyone, this is my brother. His name is Sam.”
Duck tipped her hat politely, but the tiniest tremor stole to her lip. After so many months on the trail, he could read her expressions as plainly as words on a page. The sight of Sam caused her pain, and Keech understood why. His orphan brother had come back to him, a walking miracle. But Duck’s brother, Nat, was still gone, as were her folks.
Strong Heart held a similar ache in her eyes. As did Cutter and Quinn. Their families were gone, with only Quinn’s aunt Ruth and Strong Heart’s uncle, Strong Bones, remaining.
But they still had a mission. They still sought justice.
Which meant Keech did, too.
Working hard to calm his mind, to find some kind of rational thought inside this cloud of revelations, he said to Sam, “I can’t ride back to Big Timber just yet. Right now, we have to stop what’s on the other side of that door.”
Sam peered at the glowing column. “Back home, I saw dead men get up and walk around the yard. I saw a crow whisper in Bad Whiskey’s ear. But I never saw anything like this.”
O’Brien cleared her throat. “I hate to interrupt yer reunion, Keech, but our clock is tickin’. Every second we pause, Coward gets closer to freein’ Rose from the Palace.”
Sam frowned bitterly at the name. “If the Reverend Rose intends to unleash more wickedness upon the Earth, then you best believe I’m riding through that door.”
Keech’s mouth dropped open. “You’ll go with me?”
“I didn’t come this far to let you slip away again.”
Relieved, but understanding he needed to be fair to his team, Keech looked at the others. “Well, Lost Causes, what do you say? Sam might be smaller than a tick, but Pa Abner trained him like me, and he’s quicker than a bullet. I vouch for him.”
“Nathaniel always did put things up for a vote,” Duck said. “I vote yes.”
After Strong Heart, Cutter, and Quinn voted their affirmatives, Sam’s face beamed. “Sheriff Turner, you’re coming, too. You have to. Won’t you?”
The sheriff smirked. “What’s that? Stay on this muddy mountain and miss my chance to ride through a magic door? Whether you need me or not, you’ve got my pistol.”
Mounting her filly, O’Brien said, “We’re gonna need ya, all right. Now, we best get going. That door’s about to disappear.” Before heading into the glimmer, she swiveled around in her saddle and faced the posse one last time. “Watch one another’s backs, and expect the fight of yer lives. It’s time to stand tall.”
Achilles barked wildly and sprang toward the light.
Grabbing Hector’s reins, Keech followed his friends to the door. Giving final nods of assurance, O’Brien spurred her horse into the dazzling blue. Sheriff Turner followed with a loud “Hyahh!” then Duck and Cutter proceeded next, blinking away as easy as smoke, followed by Strong Heart and Quinn.
Keech and Sam were last to approach.
“The Rabbit and the Wolf, side by side again,” Sam said.
“Just like it’s supposed to be,” Keech added. Then, seizing Hector’s reins with purpose, he lifted his fist to the sky and bellowed his next words at the top of his lungs, words he recalled from Sam’s readings of the Bible. “Behold a pale horse, Reverend! And the rider that sits upon him is Death! We’re coming for you! The Lost Causes are coming, and we’re bringing the fire with us!”
Snapping their reins in unison, Keech and Sam rode their horses into the light.