Much of the water seeped along just beneath the wet sands, out of sight.

The sergeant eased up beside him. “You know, don’t you, that the other side is Union territory?”

“It’s also Indian territory.”

“But the Indians we trailed have gone on. If someone from this party were to cross, there’s nothing I could legally do to make him come back.”

Rusty grasped what the sergeant was trying indirectly to say. His skin began to itch. “I’ve got no business on the other side. No Texan has.”

His mind ran back to the sorrowful time when he had been among a party of volunteer rangers escorting friendly Indians across the Red River against their will, throwing them off a Texas reservation they had been promised would be theirs forever. He had felt ashamed, though he understood the settler anxiety that had led to Indian removal. The intervening years had not lessened his feeling of guilt. To go across the river now would reopen old internal wounds, even if the Indians did not inflict new external ones upon him.

The sergeant said, “If we happened to look the other way, you could slip free and go wherever you want to.”

“Where I’d most like to go would be my farm down on the Colorado River.”

“Other conscription officers might find you.”

“There’s a lot of timber down there. I’d make them hunt awful hard.”

“Then I’d suggest you hang back when we start east. I’ll make it a point not to be watching you.”

“You’ll be in trouble with Lieutenant Billings.”

“A mite more won’t make any difference. The day the war is over I’ll be leaving the army anyway. It doesn’t have much place for a one-legged soldier.”

Rusty reached for the sergeant’s hand. “Maybe in better times we’ll see one another again.”

“That’d pleasure me.” The sergeant turned to address the other rangers. “Anybody share Shannon’s leanings?”

Len Tanner said, “If you can stand my company, I’ll string along with you, Rusty.”

“Thought you’d decided to go to the army.”

“I’m afraid I’d have to kill that Billings before we ever got to Austin. At least notch his ears and teach him the ranger code of conduct. I expect there’s some silly law against that.”

“I’d be tickled to have you.”

No one else offered to stay behind. With luck, Rusty thought, the war might be over before any of these men reached the battlefields back East.

Aside from his farm, far away, almost every possession he had was on his back or tied to his saddle. But he had been obliged to leave his black horse behind. To try to retrieve Alamo now was too risky. Returning to camp a second time would ask more from good luck than one man was entitled to.

To the sergeant he said, “Please ask Captain Whitfield to watch out for my horse. If the outfit breaks up he can take Alamo home with him. I’ll find him when this foolishness is over with.”