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Page 331
not lose. Besides . . . " Maitland's tone turned snide. "Under the circumstances, after Thorn's shirking of his duty caused the lad's mother to die, do you really believe he will defend himself fully? He has shown little sense of honor, but in this, he might redeem himself."
The others expected him to be killed, too! Without defending himself! Mariah rounded on Maitland, her fists clenched. "Don't you ever say such a thing. Thorn has more honor in his left eyebrow than the rest of you have in your whole darned fort. If you had any honor, you'd stop this travesty."
Anger drove deep lines into Maitland's narrow face, but he turned away, his voice cold. "Pardon me, Miss Walker." He clapped a hand on Will's shoulder as he passed. "Good luck," he said. He shot a satisfied glance back at Mariah, then disappeared into the magazine.
Mariah's insides felt like chilled spaghetti. She had to stop this.
But how?
Back home, she'd worked her way up in the film industry from gofer to unit production manager. She'd learned to troubleshoot, to negotiate the small production company's way into any size towns where they wanted to film, to negotiate out of costly, bothersome situations. One of her greatest skills was convincing people, creating win-win situations.
That was something she could do now.
She approached Will. His forehead shone beneath his tricorner hat, and his brow was knit sternly, as though he were worried. Good. "So tell me," she said conversationally, "supposing you kill Thorn, what are you planning for the rest of your life?"
The young man rubbed his mustache as he inhaled sharply. He glared at her. "I plan to remain here as a soldier, of course."
"But from what I gather, your whole focus for years has been on avenging your mother's death. Do you have any other goals?"
He looked puzzled.

 
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