Albion and I danced again. Then he went to talk to someone in the corner, came back to me.

“I promised Mildred Combs I’d look in on her granny. She’s ailing and didnt feel up to coming tonight. I’ll be back in about an hour.” He squeezed my hand, let it go. “You’ll be just fine,” he said.

He walked away, his shoulders slumped. Well good, I thought. Ifn you dont want me bad enough to fight, you wont git me.

I sat beside Granny Thornsberry, asked her about planting camomile, but didn’t hear her answer. The band stopped playing and a cake auction commenced. The band members leaned their instruments against the wall and stretched. Rondal started toward me and I looked away.

“Well,” he said, close by, “hit’s been a long time.”

I looked up. “Yes. How you been?”

“Fine sometimes. Not fine others.” He pulled over a chair and straddled it backwards. “You come with your husband?”

“No, we aint married. He wants it, but I aint sure.”

“You aint changed much.”

“You neither.”

“I got a few gray hairs now.” He ran his fingers along his temple. “That’s what Colorado done to me.”

“Was you there when them women and children got burned up?”

“I was there.”

“Where are you these days?”

“I work at a sawmill up in Martin County. Wolf Creek.”

“No more organizing?”

“Time’s a coming. Aint much can be done while this here war’s on.”

I was relieved that he had not given up, then ashamed that I would want him to be doing such dangerous work.

“You want to meet my brother and my buddy?” He took my arm and helped me up. They sat near the stove and shared a whole rhubarb pie between them.

“Isom Justice,” Rondal said. “My brother, Talcott Lloyd. This here is Carrie Bishop. I knew her over on Pond Creek.”

“I wondered how you found a good-looking woman so quick. Honey, you’re the best-looking thing I’ve seen this boy with.” Isom sized me up with his snapping brown eyes. I would never have believed a word he said.

“This here is one of our last times to pick,” Rondal said. “Talcott is going in the army.”

“I hear the fighting is gitting bad,” I said.

“Be safer than a damn coal mine,” Talcott said.

“He’ll be all right,” Isom said. “They’ll hear he’s a miner and set him to work digging trenches. He wont even git to carry a gun.”

“Hell, better not be that a way,” Talcott said. “I aim to learn some things while I’m in there. They teach you to use them machine guns like old man Davidson has got squirreled away.”

Fred Combs waved his arms from up front. “Band back up here,” he hollered.

“Hey, boys,” Rondal said, “what if I want to dance with this here woman? Can I do it?”

“Dont see why not,” Isom said. “They’s bound to be some feller here can pick a banjer for one or two numbers.”