Where the Dust Settles: Paiute-Shoshone Against the Pony Express

Previously

…Just then, a shadow fell across the entrance of the ravine. Kona stood there, his face a mask of grim fury, the dust of the recent raid still clinging to his war paint. He had heard the cries, seen the smoke, and his heart had hardened with each passing moment. Then his gaze fell upon Little Dove, kneeling beside the wounded rider, her hand clasped in his. A complex wave washed over him – a grudging admiration for her unwavering compassion, a surge of frustration at what he perceived as a dangerous softness, and a renewed, searing anger at the brutal force that had brought this man, and so much pain, to their doorstep.