Irene used the shoulder of her blouse to catch the sweat on her face as Sam used his sleeve.  She looked around and wondered for the first time why she'd stayed.  Why hadn't she, a proper widow, just moved on?  What little she'd had to sell had been sold and the money had sat in a sock in her drawer forever, now...  Irene pivoted the horse around to look at the scenery.  Dead.  That's all it looked to her.  There was no color at midday except the reddish dirt and the nearly white sky.  The cactus took on a sort of gray look in the glare, all their spines catching the light.<br/><br/>"What in hell am I doing here?" she muttered.<br/><br/>"Sam.  You have a marvelous plan.  Lets go north.  Up to the Sierra Nevadas...I don't care about silver or gold.  But, any place that harbors hardworking men will need supplies and even a lawman or two," she said, moving her horse closer to Diablo, watching his ears for signs of agitation at the strange horse's nearness.<br/><br/>"It snows there.  I used to live where it snowed.  It was a mess when it melted, but it sure was pretty until the mud."  She imagined making snow angels with her daughter, snowball fights with Sam, a cozy cabin with a big hearth where they all gathered at dark...It was all possible, now.<br/><br/>"Hmm?" she asked in response to Sam's question, having been a few hundred miles away.  "Oh.  TIm's place, you mean?"  She glanced around, shading her eyes to use the horizon as a navigation tool.  "It's that way," she pointed.<br/><br/>The ground sloped towards an arroyo with flat baked clay hinting at the water that could wash into the depression.  Beyond the arroyo was a softer hill and beyond that was a sign of water; a line of trees.<br/><br/>"It isn't on the river, but back about a mile or so.  The well was good; good water and we never ran out," she said, sighing.  "You really want to go there?  I can't imagine learning anything from the owners."