Karla asked, “And how does Mrs. Falvey like living at a convict camp?”

“Lizann?” Renda said with mock surprise. “Why Lizann likes it up there fine.” He would have said more, but Brazil called out to him-

“Frank! I’m sitting in the sun while you pass the time of day!”

“There’s a man that’s all business,” Renda said. He motioned the two convicts onto the wagon, then called to Brazil, “Let’s go!” He walked past Demery and Karla and mounted his chestnut mare. From the saddle he said, “Karla, we’ll visit awhile the next time you bring the mail.”

He reined the mare and rode straight out from the adobe to meet the wagon making a wide, slow turn to head back toward the willows.

For a moment Karla and her father watched the wagon in silence. Finally Karla said, “Did you ask him?”

Demery nodded, still watching the wagon as it drew near the willows. “I asked him.”

“What did he say?”

“Enough so you won’t have to write Lyall.” Demery looked at his daughter then. “A year ago he was convicted of cattle rustling and tried at Prescott. He’s already spent nine months in Yuma. He’s been here three months and he’s got six years to go of a seven-year sentence. That, Sis, is the nice-looking boy you have the warm feeling for.”

For a moment Karla said nothing. Then, “And his name?”

“Corey Bowen,” her father answered.

The driver, Earl Manring, drew in on the reins as the wagon reached the willow trees that lined the creek bank. He stood up, kneeling one knee on the seat, and looked back at Renda. “We better water first. Right?”

Renda neck-reined his mare closer to the wagon. “All right.” He looked at Bowen and Ike Pryde sitting on the end gate. “Get a drink,” he told them, then rode over to the willow shade where Brazil was dismounting.