“Don’t rush it any. We’ll all get there soon enough. I want to stay around awhile and see what happens to Texas.”

One of James’s younger sisters opened the corral gates, then moved back toward the main log house to avoid spooking the cattle with her long skirt that flared in the wind. They balked anyway, suspicious of the opening. A brown dog came running through the corral, barking, and almost spilled them all. James shouted at him to go back, and the dog retreated. A young heifer saw him as a wolf and instinctively chased him. The rest of the cattle followed her into the corral. Evan Gifford closed the gate before they realized they were trapped. They milled around the fence, stirring dust, slamming against the logs and looking in vain for a way out. From a safe vantage point, the dog kept barking. The heifer hooked at the fence, trying to reach him.

James growled, “I’ve got half a mind to kill me a dog. He ain’t worth two bits Confederate.”

Vince Purdy warned, “If you hurt that dog, Clemmie and the girls will burn the beans for a month.”

Rusty’s gaze followed Evan Gifford as Evan tied his horse and strode toward an older, smaller log cabin where Geneva waited in the roofed-over dog run between the structure’s two sections, holding a baby in her arms. Envy touched him as the couple embraced. The emotion was futile, but he could not help it.

She ought to’ve been mine, he thought darkly. That baby ought to’ve been mine.

It would be easy to resent Evan, but he could blame no one. Duty had called upon him to neglect Geneva in favor of his ranger service. Duty had called upon her to tend a badly wounded soldier. Nature had ordained the result.

The girl who had opened the gate started back Now that it was closed. She walked at first, then picked up her stride. She called, “Rusty? Is that really you?”

He felt buoyed by the sight of her. Her smile was like sunshine breaking through a cloud. “It’s me, Josie.”

She seemed unsure whether to laugh or cry. “I couldn’t tell for certain, all those whiskers.” A tear rolled down a smooth cheek spotted with tiny freckles. She reached up and gripped his left hand in both of her own. “We’d begun worryin’ you wasn’t comin’ back.”

“For a time, it looked that way to me, too.” He found himself compelled to stare at her. Josie was looking more and more like her older sister Geneva, the same bright eyes, the same I’llt of her chin.

She glanced toward Andy, riding beside her grandfather. “You brought him back.” It was less a statement than a veiled question.

“Things didn’t work out for him.”

“I’m sorry, and then again I’m not. He’s probably better off.”