“No, I can do it.” Annie did not like the faded look in Sly Shipman’s eyes. She did not know how long he and James had been traveling, but it was plain that he was exhausted. “You said he tried to pull you out of some fool stunt. What were you up to?”

James explained to her about the battle at Velasco. She had heard there had been a battle, but she knew no details. She had feared Michael might have been there. She had not once considered that James might be mixed up in it. She asked anxiously, “Did you see or hear anything of Michael?”

“He wasn’t there or I’d've seen him. Me and Sly never did get to Anahuac.”

A startled look came over James’s stubbled face. Annie turned and saw Isaac standing in the doorway. Isaac asked, “You-all need some help here?”

James frowned. “Isaac Blackwood?” The man looked different with his beard gone, his hair cut shorter than before. James turned to Annie, his eyes asking.

She said, “Isaac brought me a wagonload of firewood.”

James was in Isaac’s debt for warning him once that the soldiers were coming. Still, an old family enmity was not easily put aside. “Much obliged, Isaac, but I reckon we can handle this all right.”

Isaac seemed to accept James’s distrust without resentment. “Looks like you folks’ve got a lot to talk about, so me and the boy’ll be movin’ on. I need to pick up a load of wood for our own cabin before it gets dark. I enjoyed the coffee, Annie. And I do appreciate your interest in the boy.”

Annie walked out onto the dog-run as Isaac brought the boy from the kitchen. She extended her hand, and the boy took it after a moment’s hesitation. She said, “You come back sometime, Cyrus. You can draw on the slate all you want to.”

Isaac prompted, “Say, ‘Thank you, ma’am.’ “

The boy responded as told, then turned shyly and trotted toward the wagon. Annie offered, “He seems like a good boy, Isaac.”

Sadness came over Isaac’s face. “He could be, if—” He let it go at that. “Glad your brother got home. I know you’ve worried.” He was gone in a minute, he and the boy and the wagon.

Annie sensed that James stood behind her on the dogrun. James demanded, “How long’s this been goin’ on?”

Annie caught a suggestion in his voice and reacted with a flare of impatience. “How long has what been goin’ on?”

“I don’t know what. Maybe you’d like to tell me.”

“There’s nothin’ to tell. Nothin’s been goin’ on. He’s just tryin’ to be nice, that’s all.”

“He’s a Blackwood. Blackwoods don’t do nothin’ without they expect to get somethin’ more out of it than they put in.”

She felt heat rising in her cheeks. Any more talk would just lead to argument, and James had barely even gotten home. “Your friend in yonder needs care. Let’s be gettin’ to it.”