“You had a marked trail to follow. I just wish Michael or Andrew could’ve come and met us. Things’d've been a lot easier.”

“If you’d wanted it easy, you ought to’ve stayed home like I told you.”

Annie turned to Shipman. “Reckon we could persuade you to go with us and show us the way?”

James was about to protest that they could make it on their own, but Shipman did not give him the chance. “I wish I could, ma’am, but I got business responsibilities. I’ll go with you a ways in the mornin’, as far as my cabin, to point you right. Then I’ll have to bid you adieu, as they say in Natchitoches. I must say, I’ll miss you ladies’ good cookin’. A man gets kind of lank bein’ on the trail most of the time, doin’ for hisself.”

James was mortified to hear Annie say, “You should get yourself a good wife, Mr. Shipman.” It was almost as if she were hinting for the job.

“Yes, ma’am, many’s the time I’ve thought about that. But bein’ married to me would be like bein’ hitched to a boat captain who’s always at sea. I wouldn’t wish that off onto any woman I thought a lot of. And if I didn’t think a lot of her, there wouldn’t be no point in me marryin’ her, would there?”

Annie smiled. “You’ll run into somebody someday who’ll make you want to keep your business close to home.”

Shipman nodded, staring at her in a way that James thought bordered on being indecent. “That could sure be, ma’am.”

THEY WERE on the trail as soon as breakfast was finished. The wagons backtracked eastward a couple of miles, the way they had originally come from Natchitoches, until they reached a dim trace that turned off to the south. Shipman, on his dun horse, tipped his hat to Annie on the lead wagon and told her—not James—that they should follow him. James looked back. The river had long since fallen out of sight.

James said suspiciously, “What if Díaz sent a scout over here to keep an eye on us?”

“Mexican soldiers can’t cross into Louisiana, and American soldiers can’t cross over into Texas. There’s a treaty.”

“Did Díaz sign it?”

“Sergeants don’t get to sign treaties or make laws. They just get sent out to do the dirty work. No, Díaz’ll be waitin’ in the timber, watchin’ for you to try and sneak back across the river. But you-all’re fixin’ to fool him.”

Toward noon the wagons reached a log cabin that stood high above the river. James was a little nervous about being back within sight of the Sabine again. What if Díaz had sent a scout downriver to watch the crossings? He sat on his bay horse and studied the opposite bank and its timber for some minutes. He saw no sign of life.

Shipman seemed to know what James was thinking. “Was I you I wouldn’t be in a cold sweat. Everything’ll be all right.”