Bodies, frozen to death in a blizzard, swallowed up by it—some would be found come spring. But others wouldn’t; those who had been caught in remote areas, trapped in gullies or ravines or ground caves where the snow took longer to thaw, where people wouldn’t necessarily be searching. Perhaps bones would be found, a year or so later, stripped of identifying flesh, clothing long torn away, only a few remnants of fabric left and that weathered beyond recognition. There were wolves, of course. Cougars.
The Great Plains were immense enough to inspire the grandest, most foolish of dreams—but they were also vast enough that no one could ever explore every corner. Some people disappeared because they wanted to, because they recognized an opportunity to start over somewhere else with no risk of being traced. Some vanished because they simply gave up.
And some people disappeared because someone else wanted them to.
Anna Pedersen had one chance for redemption, that night. One chance to make up for everything she’d ever done to Anette. One chance to ensure the girl the future she deserved because no one else seemed able to.
By acting, she wouldn’t redeem her own soul—she would further destroy it. But she was already damned for eternity. What was one more sin upon her shoulders, to bear for the rest of her life here in this cursed place?
She was strong enough.
It was easy to get the mother outside—simply whisper that she was going to be given a gift of a horse, one of Gunner’s prize mares; it was only the beginning of the bounties awaiting her. That beast she’d ridden, it should be shot. But she should come with Anna now, since Gunner had already bedded down the horses for the night. Raina was upstairs, the Newspaper Man gone back to town. It was a secret gift, between two women! Anna would make sure she got to pick the best horse; if she waited for Gunner to do it, he would try to talk her into an inferior nag, not worthy of her.
Anna glanced at Anette, who was sleeping peacefully as her mother sat on the side of the bed, gazing about the room, most likely wondering what she could fit into that ragged carpetbag of hers.
Mrs. Thorkelsen—she never gave her first name and Anna was glad for that—nodded eagerly and obediently followed her outside. She gabbled on about the money, how good life would be from now on—occasionally she caught herself and thought to mention how good life would be for Anette from now on. But mostly she talked of clothing for herself, a house, a carriage, more food than she had ever eaten before, cakes and cookies and enormous joints of beef. A life of ease and luxury, that’s what she would have! And no more men—she laughed about that and Anna begrudgingly chuckled, as well, woman to woman. No more men! She wouldn’t need a husband now!
After they were inside the barn, the door latched behind them, Mrs. Thorkelsen scurried up and down the stalls, perusing the horses as if she were the judge at a livestock show. Anna watched her, let her take the time to choose—that one, the little black mare with the white diamond on her face. She would do just fine—what an elegant horse!
Anna nodded. As she walked over to where the woman was standing and smiling at her prize, Anna reached into her apron pocket. The cool metal of the gun soothed her once more—mesmerized her, as it had when she’d trained it on Gunner that night of the blizzard. The blizzard that was, she realized, not merely a storm but also the physical manifestation of the torment of her own soul, the turbulent struggle for it bursting out and over the prairie. She, Anna, had stirred up the very gods, dooming her to hell while they had destroyed children like Fredrik and taken Anette’s hand.
She knew her fate, and she knew Mrs. Thorkelsen’s.
The woman never grasped it, though—she had no time to see the flash of steel, Anna’s finger curling around the trigger. She must have felt the muzzle against the back of her cloak, for Anna knew she had to muffle the sound as best she could. But Anna pulled the trigger quickly, and the woman fell without a sound, although the horses did react and so Anna had to run from stall to stall, soothing them, praying Gunner wouldn’t hear and come out—how stupid, she hadn’t thought of the horses!