She had both arms around him. He felt trapped, smothering in her heavy embrace. He knew her aim was seduction, but his reaction was nearer panic than arousal. “Please,” he said. “My ribs.”

She relaxed her hold. Her voice was sympathetic though disappointed. “I didn’t go to hurt you none. Almost forgot for a minute. I reckon you don’t feel up to doin’ nothin’ right now.”

He took advantage of the moment to free himself from her and get to his feet. “No ma’am, I’m afraid I hurt too much.”

“Well,” she said in resignation, “maybe another time. If you get away from the soldiers.”

“I don’t know how I’m goin’ to do that when Luke’s waitin’ outside with that rifle.”

“That won’t be no trouble. Luke’s half drunk by now, and probably forgot what Finis told him to do. You just stand by the door, and when Luke comes in, you slip out right quiet. I’ll keep him busy a while.”

“I’m obliged to you, ma’am.”

“It ain’t no strain. I’ve got in the mood anyway. Since it can’t be you, Luke’ll do.”

“I don’t know how I can ever pay you.”

“You can come back around someday when Luke and Finis ain’t here, and when there ain’t no soldiers after you. Like I said, there just ain’t enough good-lookin’ men in this country.”

She lifted the bar and opened the door while James coiled the rope. “Luke,” she said quietly, “you want to come in here?”

“What for?” Luke’s slurred words indicated that he had been tilting the jug considerably.

“I just want you to. Finis ain’t here. Been a while since it was just me and you, without Finis around.”

Luke suddenly showed a lively interest. “That’s a fact.” His boots clomped across the wooden threshold. He blinked at James, as if he had forgotten about him. “Wasn’t we supposed to be guardin’ this feller?”

“He’s a growed man,” Nelly said, taking the rifle from Luke’s hand and leaning it against the rough wall. She took Luke’s hand and brought it around behind her. “Let him take care of hisself.”

James stepped outside. He heard the wooden bar slip back into place. The older of the two boys stared up at him. James tried to decide which Blackwood he resembled most. He guessed it was as Nelly had said: it didn’t make much difference.

He tousled the boy’s hair. “You take good care of your mama, young’un. Ain’t many like her around.”

He hurried to the lot, saddled Walker, and set him into a slow but steady lope, putting this place behind him. He forgot, until he was a mile or two away, that his rib still hurt.

XI

HE RODE most of the night, stopping occasionally to rest. The tight binding Nelly had wrapped around his ribs was more effective than the crude one he had formed with the rawhide rope, but it did not block all the pain. He tried not to think about what he was leaving behind, but the image of it kept running through his mind, over and over. Maybe if he had listened to Andrew more—maybe if he hadn’t been so quick to antagonize the damned sergeant—maybe if … The maybes went on and on. The frustration hurt almost as much as his cracked rib.