Now Snow laughed, a high, hard, fierce sound that had little to do with amusement. "No. That's not what he wanted." He'd wanted a pretty little doll he could dress up however he pleased and then put away in her cabinet again. He'd have her nursemaids dress her in white, to see her black hair against that. He'd have them dress her in black, so her skin looked paler against that. He would dress her as a Crow woman with her hair in two braids. He would dress her up in a cattleman's clothes. And so, the gun.

If her father had had his way, she would have died in that house. "But I've never been without it."