“You should have thought of that before you stole his truck,” she admonished for what must have been the hundredth time.

“How was I supposed to know that pickup belonged to a man who’d never heard of child labor laws? You probably ought to investigate him or something. He probably has little kids all over that ranch of his, working their butts off.” She shot a sly look at Janet. “Little Native American kids, Mom.”

Janet chuckled at the blatant attempt to try to push her buttons. “Forget it, Jenny. You can’t rile me up that way. There is absolutely no evidence that anything like that is going on at White Pines.”

“Isn’t that why we’re here, though? Aren’t you supposed to be righting old wrongs, looking out for the descendents of the Comanches who rightfully belong on that land that Mr. Adams’s ancestors stole? Jeez, Mom, we’re in town for less than a month and you’re practically in bed with the enemy.”

“I am not in bed with anybody,” Janet said. “Stop with that kind of talk and set the table.”

“Okay, but I say you’re selling out.”

“And I say you have a smart mouth. I’d better not hear any of that kind of talk while Mr. Adams is here.”

Jenny nodded, her expression knowing. “I get it. You don’t want to tip him off too soon that his days on that land are numbered, right? You’ll finish your research, then bam, file the papers and boot him off. That’s good. I like it. Boy, will he be surprised when he finds out I belong at White Pines more than he does. Maybe I’ll even make him clean the barn.”

Janet was beginning to regret ever having told Jenny how the land that Lone Wolf’s father had cherished had been taken over by white ranchers, while the Comanches were forced into smaller and smaller areas and eventually out of Texas altogether.

“Sweetie, there is no evidence that White Pines itself belonged to Lone Wolf’s father,” she explained. “True, he roamed all over west Texas and the Comanches believed that the land of the Comancheria was theirs, but it’s not as if it was ever deeded to them and recorded as theirs.”

“But that’s just a technicality, right?” Jenny argued. “You’re going to prove that possession was nine-tenths of the law stuff and that the government never had any right to force them out, right?”

Janet had to admit it was a dream she had had, a fantasy inspired by listening to Lone Wolf spin his sad tales. She had vowed at his grave, when she was younger than Jenny was now, that she would try to rectify what had happened to their ancestors.