Texas had had her Lexington. There could no longer be doubt. The war was on.

James felt a strong urge to saddle Walker and ride with some of the men who passed by. They were on their way to drive Cós out of Bexar, they claimed. But he waited, thinking Marie might yet decide to leave, for if she did, Hope would go, and Annie and all the children, at least. But Marie showed no sign of weakening.

“Michael is probably at Bexar now,” she said sternly. “If he were to come looking for us, he would not know where we had gone.”

James decided he had stayed as long as he could. He was at the shed, brushing Walker’s back to get the bay horse ready for the trip, when Isaac Blackwood rode up. Isaac had his long rifle across his lap, blankets tied behind the cantle of his saddle, a bag of “possibles” hanging down on one side. James sensed at a glance that he, too, was headed for Bexar.

Isaac watched James throw a blanket and saddle upon Walker’s back. He asked, “You fixin’ to go somewhere?”

“Same as you, I reckon. I’m goin’ to Bexar.”

“You’d be welcome to ride with me if you don’t mind bein’ in the company of a Blackwood.”

James nodded. “I reckon we’re all in this together.”

Isaac looked toward the cabin. “I came by to speak to Annie. She here?”

She was. But so was Sly Shipman. The two had been in the garden together just now, gathering up some vegetables. James did not see them at the moment.

He slid back the rail that served as a gate, led Walker outside and swung up into the saddle. “I expect Annie’s in the cabin. We’ll go see.”

As they rode around the dog-run, he saw Annie and Shipman in each other’s arms, oblivious to anything or anyone around them. Annie freed her hand and opened the door to her bedroom, then led Shipman inside and closed the door behind them.

James felt his face turn warm, and he glanced at Isaac. Isaac looked as if a mule had kicked him. He swallowed hard and tore his gaze away from the closed door. “I reckon I’ll be goin’ on to Bexar,” he said weakly. “You comin’?”

James had already said his good-byes. “I’m comin’.” He brought his rifle up into his lap and touched his heels to Walker’s ribs.

XX

JAMES FOUND Isaac Blackwood to be a quiet traveling companion. Isaac spoke no more than was necessary, riding along with his mind elsewhere, holding counsel only with himself. James suspected he was thinking of Annie much of the time, grieving over lost opportunity. James also suspected there had never actually been any real opportunity. Whatever her faults of temper and impatience might be, his sister was too bright to let herself be trapped into an alliance with a Blackwood, even a benign Blackwood such as Isaac seemed to be. James was relieved when on their first night’s camp some other volunteers saw their fire and joined them. Now he had someone to talk to for the duration of the trip.