“This is Arvid’s ridge, Kurt.

You know who stands up here.”

Kurt didn’t answer at first.

He stood stock-still on the frozen dirt lane, his rifle resting on his shoulder.

“Brad told us you were just stirring up trouble on account of the divorce,” Kurt said slowly, his voice dropping an octave.

“Brad forged my signature,” I said.

Kurt looked down at his boots, then back up at Dale standing quiet and motionless.

“You’ve got no legal right to be on this slope today, Kurt,” I said.