I was brought up not to pry, and I searched for some safe word of encouragement I could mutter before passing on. But before I could find the word, Katie abruptly pulled aside the shawl that usually hid her feelings.

“He’s leaving!” she said bitterly. “He won’t stay.”

“Oh, perhaps that’s just his mood of the moment,” I said. “He’s changeable, I’ve noticed.”

Katie shook her head grimly.

“No, he’s going,” she said. “He won’t stay for me, and now I wouldn’t let him if he asked. If people want to go it’s best to let ’em.”

I had come to that judgment myself, but I was in my fifties. For a girl scarcely twenty to arrive at it struck me as remarkable.

“If you’ll tolerate my inquiring, where does he plan to go?” I asked.

“Why, to Anton Chico, to get killed, of course!” she said. “He’s no reason to go! He don’t know those gunfighters, and he don’t know Pa, either. He’s no business in that fight, but he thinks different.”

“Maybe Joe can talk him out of it,” I suggested. “Joe’s practiced at handling Billy.”

Katie Garza’s tears were gone, but in her eyes was a look beyond tears.

“Joe can’t,” she said. “They’re already saddling up. Joe can’t and you can’t and I can’t—and we’re the only three people he’s got.

“He thinks he’s got to make a reputation,” she added. “That’s all it’s about—as if he ain’t famous enough already.”

She reached for the water bucket, but I was quicker. I carried it for her as we walked back along the silver river. Her look had the sadness of a woman, also the sadness of a child.

“I’ve not had the opportunity to compliment you on your shooting, back in Greasy Corners,” I said, merely searching for a safe subject that might cheer her.

Katie Garza was not fooled. “You shot just as well,” she said. “I wish my pa had been there, though. My pa could beat us both.”

“I was much impressed with your father, the little I saw of him,” I said. “I’m surprised he taught you pistol shooting—it’s not a common skill in a young woman.”

“It ain’t common in a young man, either,” she said, with justice. “Joe can only shoot fair, and Billy can’t shoot at all.”

“That’s a point,” I admitted.

Katie sighed—it was clearly one of those days when life’s a heavy weight.

“Pa likes me,” she said. “He don’t come to see me as much as he did, but he likes me. He said I’d get no help from the law, so I’d better learn to shoot. He said the law would be my enemy, and I already see he’s right.”