“Like then. I realize it’s not quite the same as the old-time rangers, and I know I’ll be awhile gettin’ my full strength back. But I feel like there’s things I can do to make myself useful.”

“But you have your own home, far from here.”

“Not anymore. I’ve been carpetbagged out of it. I need to stay up in this part of the country for now, but I don’t want to keep bein’ a burden to the Monahans.”

Tanner’s mouth sagged open. Rusty had not mentioned the idea to him.

Burmeister turned. “And you, Private Tanner? What of you?”

Tanner grinned. “Why the hell not? When I was a ranger I went hungry half the time, and I never got paid what they promised me. They was the best years of my life.”

“I cannot guarantee you will be paid this time. In Austin promises are many, but the well is often dry.”

Rusty had one reservation. “Somethin’ you ought to know, Captain, before you swear me in. There’s a charge against me down home. It’s a false charge, but it’s on the books just the same.”

“Not murder, I hope.”

“Nothin’ like that. I’m charged with aidin’ and abettin’ the escape of a criminal. But I never did it. He took one of my horses without me knowin’ it. They claim I gave it to him.”

“They?”

“Two brothers by the name of Oldham. Durin’ the war they hid out in the brush. I had some trouble with them.”

“They did not serve in the Confederate Army?”

“Nor the Union Army either. But now they’re state police.” Burmeister scowled. “Do not worry about the state police. There are some good men but also some rotten apples. They have no authority over my company.”

Rusty’s announcement took Josie by surprise. She was dismayed. “Rusty, you can’t. You mustn’t.”

“I can’t stay here just doin’ nothin’.”

“You have a home here as long as you want it.”

“It’s your home, not mine.”

“But it could be your home. You could be one of us.”

He took her hands. “The Monahans have been the nearest thing to family that I’ve had since Daddy Mike and Mother Dora. There’s not a family anywhere that I’d rather be a part of.”

“I’ve always hoped that you and me—”

“I know. If I was in a shape for marryin’, you’re the one I’d ask. But I’d have nothin’ to offer you now, not so much as a roof over your head or a plot of ground for a garden. And there’s Billy out yonder somewhere, and Andy. I can’t be thinkin’ of makin’ a home ‘til that’s all settled.”

“What do you think you can do?”