Chapter 15Early the following day, I decided on a hasty trip to my farm in the hope Matthew had gone there to mull things over before moving on to find his father’s people. His pa had been a Burnt Wood or Brulé, one of the bands of the Teton Sioux. Like many others, they’d been driven out of their homelands and come west. Turtle Crick Farm was a logical place for Matthew to rest overnight before heading for the Laramie country.
Despite pushing Arrow Wind hard in my rush to reach Turtle Crick, I was too late. Matthew had come and gone. I found sign where he’d slept in the loft of the outhouse and taken a sweat bath in the little shelter beside the crick. I rushed to the Tiller farm to see if he was there. Andre had talked to him for a few minutes, but Matthew pushed on early this morning.
