“All right. Now here’s the other thing you can do for me. Comes the day of the Wolves, I’m going to need six folken I can absolutely trust. I’d like to have three of each sex.”

“Do you care if some are parents with children at risk?”

“No. But not all. And none of the ladies who may be throwing the dish—Sarey, Zalia, Margaret Eisenhart, Rosalita. They’ll be somewhere else.”

“What do you want these six for?”

Roland was silent.

Callahan looked at him a moment longer, then sighed. “Reuben Caverra,” he said. “Reuben’s never forgot his sister and how he loved her. Diane Caverra, his wife…or do’ee not want couples?”

No, a couple would be all right. Roland twirled his fingers, gesturing for the Pere to continue.

“Cantab of the Manni, I sh’d say; the children follow him like he was the Pied Piper.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to. They follow him, that’s the important part. Bucky Javier and his wife…and what would you say to your boy, Jake? Already the town children follow him with their eyes, and I suspect a number of the girls are in love with him.”

“No, I need him.”

Or can’t bear to have him out of your sight?Callahan wondered…but did not say. He had pushed Roland as far as was prudent, at least for one day. Further, actually.

“What of Andy, then? The children love him, too. And he’d protect them to the death.”

“Aye? From the Wolves?”

Callahan looked troubled. Actually it had been rock-cats he’d been thinking of. Them, and the sort of wolves that came on four legs. As for the ones that came out of Thunderclap…

“No,” Roland said. “Not Andy.”

“Why not? For ’tisn’t to fight the Wolves you want these six for, is it?”

“Not Andy,” Roland repeated. It was just a feeling, but his feelings were his version of the touch. “There’s time to think about it, Pere…and we’ll think, too.”

“You’re going out into the town.”

“Aye. Today and every day for the next few.”

Callahan grinned. “Your friends and I would call it ‘schmoozing.’ It’s a Yiddish word.”

“Aye? What tribe are they?”

“An unlucky one, by all accounts. Here, schmoozing is called commala. It’s their word for damned near everything.” Callahan was a little amused by how badly he wanted to regain the gunslinger’s regard. A little disgusted with himself, as well. “In any case, I wish you well with it.”

Roland nodded. Callahan started up toward the rectory, where Rosalita already had harnessed the horses to the buckboard and now waited impatiently for Callahan to come, so they could be about God’s work. Halfway up the slope, Callahan turned back.