I was riding my new horse along the snowy trail near Lake Isabella, the winter wind biting at my coat. She was a White Arabian—fast, fierce, and one of the finest mares you’d see in these parts. A real beauty, and smart too.

"Time to head back to camp", I thought. Dutch said he needed a word. Probably about food—we were running low again. Maybe I’d bring down a deer on the way, if I got lucky.

That’s when I spotted it up ahead: a wagon rolling slow through the snow, wheels crunching ice. A prison transport, flanked by two lawmen riding alongside. I reined in just a bit, letting the cold wind carry me closer.

Inside the barred cage sat a single prisoner.

A woman.

I narrowed my eyes, studying her face through the slats and shadows.

"Who the hell is that…?"