She caught his hand and held it, feeling its roughness between her two soft palms.
"Dad, I've got to tell you.

I feel trapped, somehow.

Did his horse have a white face, dad ?" "Yes, he's a blaze-faced roan.

Why ?" Brit moved uncomfortably, but he did not take his hand away from her.

"What do you know about it, Raine ?" "I saw a man shoot Fred Thurman and push his foot through the stirrup.
And, dad, I believe it was that man at Whisper.