The woman asked, “What you doin’ with that feller, Finis? And what you got him all tied up for?”

“Somebody already tied him up before I got him, but they left his arms out. Ain’t no wonder he got away from them. But he ain’t gittin’ away from us.”

She studied James from his head down to his feet as if he were a studhorse or something. “He ain’t a bad-lookin’ feller. Nice and young. What would anybody want to tie him up for?”

“He’s the one them soldiers was a-huntin’. I’m goin’ to fetch them here and see what they’ll give us for him.”

She showed misgivings. “They’ll probably shoot him. Ain’t good for the young’uns to see such as that.”

“This is a Lewis. It’d do the young’uns good, let them see what life is all about.”

“He’s been a-bleedin’,” she observed.

“I ain’t never seen a Lewis bleed enough to suit me.”

Luke brought Finis’s horse. He said, “Finis, why don’t you let me go after the soldiers?”

“Because you’d get lost in a mile and I’d have to go hunt you.” He handed Luke the rifle. “Now, don’t you let him get away, or them soldiers’ll be mad at us instead of the Lewises.”

“You want me to shoot him if he tries to leave?”

Finis looked exasperated. “That’s what I give you the rifle for, ain’t it?”

The woman kept staring at James, studying him boldly. “Seems like a shame, him so young and handsome and all.”

Finis warned her sternly, “And don’t you go gettin’ no ideas about him. You already got man enough to take care of what you need, and that’s me.” He started to mount the horse but paused to tighten the girth. “Damn you, Luke, can’t you ever learn to cinch a horse up tight? It’s a wonder the saddle didn’t turn under him with me.”

Luke mumbled as he watched Finis ride away. “Always cussin’ me, he is. I got a mind to just shoot this feller and see what Finis says about that.”

The woman quickly shook her head. “You don’t want to go and do nothin’ like that, Luke.” She moved up close and touched the rawhide rope that bound James’s ribs. Dried blood had seeped out through the shirt and the tight coils. “Poor boy, you been hurt.”

James tried to watch her but found himself watching Luke’s rifle. “Musketball broke a rib, I think. The rope was all I had to bind it with.”

She said, “You come on in the house and I’ll see what I can do for you. Ain’t right, leavin’ a man to stand out here and bleed to death.”

James didn’t think the wound was bleeding anymore, but he did not argue.

Luke demanded, “What you fixin’ to do with him, Nelly?”

“See if I can patch him up.”

“Finis wouldn’t like that.”

“Finis ain’t here. You comin’ to help, or are you goin’ to stand out here with your mouth hangin’ open?”