" stalwart spruce, masking sounds that might otherwise have been detected. She slipped a hand into her pocket as she scanned the wooded rise to their left—unsure whether her shortness of breath stemmed from her ailment or from whatever was out there . . . or perhaps both. Gripping the curve-handled derringer, an indulgent purchase she’d made before departing New York City, a measure of courage rose within her. Its .41 caliber ball would hardly deter a large animal, but it was better than facing one completely defenseless. Josiah cocked his head to one side as though listening for something. The first time he’d done this on the trail three days ago, she’d questioned him. After spotting the mountain lion, she’d swiftly learned to keep her silence. He’d shot at the animal and missed—by a wide margin if the splintered bark held truth—but his "

― Tamera Alexander , The Inheritance