One afternoon while Badger Boy sunned himself in front of the cabin, Preacher Webb rode in. He had been absent for several days. He tied his horse and walked directly to Badger Boy, smiling. “Sunshine is the Lord’s great healer, son. You’re lookin’ better every day.” He leaned over close, reaching out as if to touch Badger Boy’s long braids. He had tried more than once to persuade the lad to cut his hair white-man style. Badger Boy had resisted firmly each time, fighting off the scissors. The Texans had taken everything else that marked him as Comanche. He did not intend to let them cut his hair.

Webb said, “You need a good washin’. You’ve got company comin’ tomorrow.”

Washing, Badger Boy understood. Company, he did not.

“Somebody comes?”

“Kin of yours. I located your uncle down by San Felipe.”

“Uncle?” Badger Boy did not understand.

“Your father’s brother. His name is Pickard, like yours. Jim Pickard.”

Badger Boy spoke the name. He had easily become used to being called Andy, for he dimly remembered having been called that before. He was less sure about the name Pickard. “Jim Pickard,” he said, trying to find something familiar in it.

“Maybe you called him Uncle Jim.”

“Uncle Jim. Uncle Jim.” Nothing aroused any memories.

“Maybe when you see him. He’s your family.”

“Not my family. My family Comanche!”

“Well, we’ll get you cleaned up in the mornin’. We don’t want him to see you lookin’ like a wild … “

Webb broke off, and Badger Boy had no idea what he had been about to say.

“Where this San Felipe?”

Webb pointed to the east. “Yonderway.”

“Far?”

“Pretty far. Took me most of two days to get back.”

“My uncle, he takes me?”

“I expect he will. We all figure the best place for you is with your own kin.”

Rusty came in from the field. Badger Boy heard Webb tell him, “The boy’s uncle stopped off at Tom Blessing’s to rest his team tonight. I thought I’d better come ahead and let you know he’s on his way.”

Rusty stared at Badger Boy, his thoughts unreadable.

Webb went on, “Tom’s not the sheriff anymore. The Federals turned him out. Appointed one of their own.”

“Then they’re takin’ over lock, stock, and barrel.”

“There are soldiers everywhere east of here, settin’ up provisional local governments. They’ve appointed their own man governor in Austin.”

“If Tom’s not the sheriff anymore, then I reckon I’m not a deputy. Never saw a dime anyway, so it’s no big loss.” He turned back to Badger Boy. “First thing in the mornin’ we’ll get you shined up for your uncle.”