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Page 170
added, gently taking another plate from Holly. "Woodlands that provide ample game as food for the Indians."
"But farms mean food, too." Francis used his drying rag vigorously on a plate. "We'd sell crops to the natives as much as to anyone else."
Thorn snorted. "But you would charge them for produce grown on land that once supplied them plentiful food for free."
Mariah stayed out of the argument. She knew how inevitable the displacement of the Indians really was, and how creel.
There was, however, one more thing she had to say. "I don't think Indians are the only danger. What if the soldiers get too zealous about enforcing the law? They could do more than just arrest you."
"Like what?" Francis asked. "Declare war on us?" He laughed, handing Mariah several knives she had not yet washed.
"Well . . . maybe." Mariah turned back to the basin, searching for a convincing lie about why she believed them to be in danger.
"Although they must enforce that absurd law, they are charged with protecting us. We'll be fine, but thank you, Miss Walker, for your concern." His voice was soft in her ear, and Mariah turned, startled. He stood beside her, his gaze warm. She sighed, concerned that he had misinterpreted her warning.
She glanced around him at Thorn. Judging by his cold expression, he might have thought the same thing.
Damn them both! They were too busy acting like strutting roosters to listen to her. She glared at Francis, irritation turning her careless. "You don't understand. Tomorrow, soldiers will come through here to stop you. There will be fights. People will be hurt. You have to go back."
Francis looked dumbfounded. Before he responded, though, she heard the clumping of footsteps on the wooden floor behind Thorn, who moved aside. He stared at her, looking as surprised as if she had suddenly slaughtered a whole roomful of rabbits. She felt herself redden as she glared back

 
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