“The way it looks, everybody’s goin’ to have to choose a side, like it or not.”

“I’m on God’s side, and God wants us to live in peace.”

Monahan’s eyes were fierce. “There won’t be peace if Texas pulls out. We’ll find ourselves in the damnedest war this country ever saw.”

Clemmie broke in. “This is no fit subject for the dinner table. James, pass your daddy the gravy.”

In deference to her, the conversation turned to subjects that sparked no controversy, such as speculation that a railroad might be built to haul farm produce from the interior to a gulf port, and the need for a soaking rain.

Rusty only half listened to most of it. He did not know enough about railroads to voice an opinion, and all the talk in the world would not bring rain so long as the wind was out of the west. He kept his chin down as if he were concentrating on eating, but he lifted his gaze to Geneva, across the table. Somehow she didn’t seem quite so skinny as he had first thought. The longer he looked at her, the more he wanted to look. He did not have a lot to judge her by. Girls of her age were scarce down on his section of the Colorado River. He had gone to school with Fowler Gaskin’s daughter, Florey, but she looked too much like her brothers to arouse any interest. The only person he knew uglier than the Gaskin brothers was their father.

After dinner James saddled a horse and set out eastward to notify neighbors that Preacher Webb would conduct services that evening at the Monahans’. Billy Monahan rode north and west.

Lon Monahan shouted after James, “You tell them to be sure and come! Ain’t a one of them but what can stand a damned good dose of salvation!”

Rusty thought it might not have been necessary for the boys to ride out. Monahan could have stood on the porch and hollered loudly enough to reach everyone within four or five miles.

Clemmie admonished, “Lon, is it necessary to use that kind of language in front of the preacher?”

“Hell, he’s heard it all before. A little honest swearin’ wipeth away anger and bringeth peace to the soul.” He winked at Rusty.

Rusty was reminded that Mike Shannon had looked at it that way too, and the thought brought sadness. Mike had had much in common with Lon Monahan besides their political leanings.

Clemmie noticed Rusty’s expression. She said, “You re lookin’ kind of down, son. Not feelin’ good?”

Rusty did not want to get into a discussion about what had happened to Mike. He replied, “Just thinkin’ over what Mr. Monahan said about war.”

Clemmie turned on her husband. “See what you done, talkin’ so free? Some things you’d ought to keep to yourself.”