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Now he would give the hostiles a taste of cavalry steel. These Cheyenne will not soon forget the name of George Armstrong Custer. Each night it took longer to chase the icy knots from his chest. For a long minute, she stood there, letting the stream sluice between her fingers. He could feel the steam building up in the bathroom air, see the fog forming on the mirror above the old chipped sink. Pines from a nearby thicket offered a pungent streak, along with the slight tinge of marshy salt carried in from the ocean miles away. They were as distinct to him as the red, green, and yellow of the corner stoplight. This was to be their last night on earth. Their last night among friends, they boasted before everyone in camp. Tomorrow they would give their lives in battle.
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