That afternoon, the yard was empty. She dismounted, led the horse into the stable. She undid the saddle, swung it up on to the edge of the door. The horse nuzzled her neck and China smiled. She forked in some fresh hay and stepped out, and there was a man behind her. China swung back her elbow, caught him on the jaw. He staggered and she turned, swept his feet from under him. He hit the floor, went to roll away, then stopped, and held up his hands.
“China,” Jaron Gallow said, “I’m not here to fight you.”