“Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Don’t back off. I’m being realistic, not apologizing. I’m saying you might.”

Cable stared at him. “Maybe we should start all over again.”

“No, I think we’ve come a long way in a short time.”

“Except,” Cable said, “you know more about me than I do about you.”

“You don’t have to know anything about me,” Janroe said. “The Kidstons are your problem.”

“I’ll talk to them.”

“But why should they talk to you?” Janroe watched him intently. “You’re one man against, say, fifteen. You’re an ex-Confederate in Union territory. The Kidstons themselves are Yankees. They sell most of their cattle and all of their horses to the Union army. Vern’s brother Duane even held a command, but now he’s back and he’s brought the war with him. Has everybody calling him ‘The Major’ and he orders Vern’s riders about like they were his personal cavalry.” Janroe shook his head. “They don’t have to listen to you.”

Cable shrugged. “We’ll see what happens.”

“How do you eat?” Janroe asked. “That’s your first problem.”

“For now,” Cable said, “I plan to buy provisions and maybe shoot something. Pretty soon I’ll start buying stock and build my herd again.”

“Buy it from where?”

“South. Luz’s brother has friends in Sonora. I sold my stock to them when I enlisted on the agreement they’d sell back whatever I could buy when I came home.”

“Manuel’s down that way right now,” Janroe said.

Cable’s eyes raised. “When will he be back?”

“In a few days, I suppose. But your problem is now. I said before, some of Vern’s men are living at your place.”

“I’ll have a talk with them,” Cable said.

“One of them was here this morning. Bill Dancey.” Janroe paused as Luz approached the table. She put plates in front of them and a serving dish of meat stew between them. Janroe asked her, “Where’s his wife?”