The kids would ask someday about their auntie. An earthquake, Ella would tell them, truthfully. Every goblet, every plate, every pretty fragile trinket was smashed to bits. Grannie’s figurines and bells with frills, Easter bunnies and crucifixes. Bathwater in the back hall, the toilet kicked off its bolts, a hole in the Sheetrock. Blood. Towels and smears on oak scuffed by spurs. Closets erupting out the back door. Taffeta. A window shattered across a quilt. The clothesline dragged into cottonwoods. Not a frame survived in the parlor. Wires sprung from plaster split and pitted. The fridge door hanging open. Eggs and milk making lakes on linoleum. Paste. Meals of all kinds, corn, oats, rice bloating. The cabinets. Except for salt and cinnamon, no jars survived. The chickens pecked the smorgasbord, bobbed and sipped with pointed tongues. The front door hung wide open. Her scarf that same peachy color as her dress. The pantry: jam, pickles, brine, glass. The barn too. Tack was slashed with some sharp blade, every stirrup, every leather strap, the unions at the fenders. Gratuitous, really. It would take a month to clean it up.

They rode through the hours straight or slumped as their fathers had taught them. Mule ears swizzled when the riders spoke. Ella set the cast iron on buried coals when they made camp. Dough rose inside under lid and mitt.

“It’s true about Eve.”

“Adam wasn’t no catch either.”

“Adam would have dropped Eve in a pit too.”

Maul grilled onions before the meat. Ella took the spatula from him.

“Why would God dig pits in Eden?” Saul said.

“Pits everywhere,” Bowman said.

“Maggots,” Maul said. “Putrid.”

“Just a story,” Bowman said. “Don’t worry.”

Dan slept by the creek in his tarp, whiskey wafting. He never took his patch off. Bowman took First Watch with his little arsenal then slept with it by a log near his big pretty bay. Saul took Second Watch. He slid out from their small tent and she rolled into the heat he’d left. Maul took Third Watch.

“Why do we need a Watch?” Dan said in the morning. Maul was breaking eggs, brown and pale green shells toted safely in a bin of oats.

“You didn’t take no Watch,” Bowman said. “Quit complaining.”