The lie becomes the truth. Five years pass in a long, unbroken stretch of brutal, honest work. John Reynolds (formerly Big John) and Beth Ann build a true home: a solid cabin of cottonwood logs, a thriving field, and a small herd of cattle. Michael, now ten, is a true prairie boy—lean, capable, and knowledgeable of the Osage and the land. They receive no letters, no visitors, and no markers. The silence of the prairie is their sanctuary. John, however, has a new ritual: every spring, he travels miles west to leave a small, unmarked wooden cross where a traveler might see it—a subtle, calculated offering to the silence, a nod to the fact that Big John is indeed dead. He and Beth Ann never speak of Natchez or Price, but the rifle is never far from the door.
