James walked reluctantly back to the cabin. Annie stood there with a look in her eyes as if she wanted to cry but had made up her mind not to. James said, “There ain’t many things Sly is afraid of. But marriage is one.”

She said nothing. James tried to think of an easy way to ask the question. “I’m goin’ to be worryin’ for the next month or two if you don’t tell me.”

She shook her head. “You’ve got no cause to worry. It didn’t go that far.”

He felt relieved. “You stopped him, did you? I’m proud of your good judgment.”

“It wasn’t me who stopped. It was him. I guess if I had good judgment I’d've stayed in Tennessee.” She turned and went into the kitchen, closing the door behind her as a sign that she wanted to be left alone.

He had no quarrel with that. He hitched up two of the mules and went out into the woods to drag poles for the fence.

THE DAY Shipman left was the day Michael Lewis came home. With him was his old friend from Bexar, Elizandro Zaragosa and Zaragosa’s son Manuel, now about thirteen. After stopping a while at his own cabin to kiss Marie and the children, Michael had gone by Andrew’s and Petra’s. Finally, late in the afternoon, he and Zaragosa arrived at the cabin James shared with Annie. They were trailed by Manuel and Mordecai, who lagged behind, talking. The boys had become close friends.

Annie had kept her own silent counsel all day. James surmised that she was grieving over Shipman’s leaving. But she brightened at the sight of her older brother. Michael had always occupied a special place in her heart. She threw her arms around him and declared, “We were afraid they might have killed you.”

“Nobody’s ever killed me yet,” Michael said, shrugging off everybody’s concern over his long absence. He hugged James. “Mighty good to have you home again, little brother. I hope this time you can stay.”

“I sure figure on it.” James shook hands with Zaragosa. It had always puzzled him a little, Michael’s friendship with this dark, leathery skinned Mexican. They seemed, on the surface, to have almost nothing in common. But they had fought side by side in earlier times, and each had saved the other’s life. He supposed shared experiences like that might make people forget their racial differences. He wondered aloud how the two had come together this time. The fighting had been to the east. Zaragosa lived to the west.

Michael said, “Elizandro and Manuel were over on the coast sellin’ horses when the trouble started. Bradburn figured they were thieves or somethin’ and tried to confiscate their horses. I helped them drive the bunch out of his reach.”

James grimaced. “That Bradburn. He must be a son of a bitch.”

“He’s just another little two-bit tyrant who had more power than was good for him. Piedras is a fair man, though. He turned Bradburn’s prisoners loose and countermanded a lot of Bradburn’s orders. So Bradburn turned in his papers and went back to Mexico. Like as not, we’ve seen the last of him.” He glanced at Zaragosa. “Maybe we’ve seen the last of our quarrels with Mexico. Looks like we’ve got them all patched up.”