The singing made James feel a little homesick, for it took him back to Tennessee and a far more peaceful time. As he looked at first one and then another member of the Caldwell family he realized what a lucky man Marcus Caldwell was to have that good wife and these several sons and daughters to help him in his work and to comfort him in his leisure.

Maybe someday, he thought. Then he looked at Libby Caldwell and reassessed his situation. It was not all bad, being a bachelor.

JAMES GAVE San Felipe a wide berth, for the capital of the colony was almost certain to be watched over by at least a few soldiers at any given time. The trip required a day or two more than he expected. He had not taken into full account that the last time he had ridden some of the same route, he had been moving a lot faster. Moreover, Marcus Caldwell had talked them into staying over an extra day at his place to let Shipman rest a bit longer. James suspected the farmer simply enjoyed company and hated to see them leave.

He began to see the familiar landmarks that told him he was nearly home. He crossed over the Colorado to its south side sooner than usual, not wanting to run into any of the Blackwood family. They would call the soldiers down upon him out of pure spite.

At last he saw a small figure sitting on a tall horse, pushing a few cattle westward. He shouted three times against the wind before the rider turned to look, then pulled his horse around and pushed it into a lope. James recognized young Mordecai, Michael’s son. As the boy reined up beside him, James squeezed his hand so hard that Mordecai winced. James leaned back in the saddle to take the youngster’s measure. “I swear, Mordecai, you’ve grown half a foot since last I seen you.”

Mordecai was trying to cover some disappointment. He said, “I thought at first you might be my daddy comin’ home. From a distance, you look sort of like him.”

“Michael? Where’s he at?”

Mordecai shook his head. “We don’t rightly know. A bunch of men came by here a while back lookin’ for volunteers to go to Anahuac and set things straight. You know my daddy. He went.” Mordecai gave Shipman a moment’s curiosity.

James said, “Sly Shipman, this is my nephew Mordecai.” He frowned at the boy. “A ways from home, ain’t you?”

“I come to gather up my daddy’s cattle that strayed down the river. Things can happen to them when they get too far from home. Finis Blackwood can’t tell our cows from his own.”

James nodded grimly. “A common failin’ in that family. We’ll help you drive the cattle.”

Mordecai observed, “Mr. Shipman don’t look like he feels too good. Maybe you-all had best go on.”

Shipman did look tired, James thought. He said to Mordecai, “You’re right. I’d best get Sly on down to Andrew’s house, where Annie and Petra can take care of him.”