Isaac fixed James with a solemn stare. “You’d be the one they’re after, I reckon.”

“Who’s after me?”

“Them Mexican soldiers. I was over to the Willet place just now. There was a bunch of them soldiers there, takin’ their siesta and robbin’ the old lady’s garden when three more rode in from this direction. One of them had his leg butchered up some. They was mighty mad. Best me and the Willet boy could make out from their talk, they’d had a run-in with some young buck over this way. They was fixin’ to come back and get him. I skint out and come by Michael’s place; didn’t know but what you’d be there.”

Michael had said nothing. He just stared at James with a sad look much like Annie’s. It struck James as odd that Michael would ride with a Blackwood under any circumstances.

James said, “Michael, everybody’s wantin’ me to run away. I told them you wouldn’t. You’d stand your ground and fight.”

Andrew looked up at his brother. “Tell him, Michael. Make him see that he’s got to go.”

Stubbornly James said, “You never did run, Michael.”

Michael’s eyes were grim. “Run? You’re damn right I’ve run. I’ve found that there’s a time to fight, and there’s a time to retreat. This is a time to run, and run like hell.”

James was conscious that the women had come out onto the dog-run. They had heard what Isaac and Michael said. “How many soldiers are there?”

Isaac replied, “I’d expect there was a dozen. Maybe one or two more. More’n you’d be wantin’ to tangle with, I’m thinkin’.”

Andrew pressed, “How far are they behind you, Isaac?”

“Can’t rightly say, but not too far. I don’t know how fast them soldiers’ horses are.”

James frowned suspiciously. “You’re a Blackwood. How come you’d want to warn me, a Lewis?”

Isaac’s gaze went for a moment to Annie, then lifted to the sky. A gray look had built up, clouds moving in from the Gulf way to the east, as if it might shortly rain. Isaac said, “It ain’t goin’ to be no pretty day to die. If I was you, I’d be ridin’ away from here mighty quick.”

Petra turned back toward the kitchen. “James, I will put together something for you to eat. Andrew, you put together the things he will need.”

James felt a chill, for the cold reality was finally sinking in. He was truly going; there was no choice.

He still half expected Annie to blame him, to send him away with her recriminations ringing in his ears. But she put her arms around him, and he felt her tears wet against his cheek. “Please, James, don’t let anything happen to you.”

Petra came with a sack of food. Andrew tied James’s rolled blankets behind the saddle and led the long-legged bay horse up to the dog-run. “What clothes you’ve got are inside the blankets,” he said. He went into the cabin’s kitchen and came out again with a few coins in his hand. “It ain’t much because we don’t have much,” he said. “But maybe it’ll see you through if you find yourself in need.”