Royce said, “You think we won’t be back?”
Cable’s gaze shifted. “You’ll ride into a double load of buckshot if you do. You can tell Kidston the same.”
Royce seemed to grin. “Man, you’re made to order. Duane’s going to have some fun with you.”
Dancey’s eyes held on Cable. “So one man’s going to stand us off.”
“That’s all it’s taken so far.”
“You think Vern’s going to put up with you?”
“I don’t see he has a choice,” Cable answered.
“Then you don’t know him,” Dancey said flatly.
With daylight a wind came out of the valley and he could hear it in the pines above the house.
Cable lay on his back listening, staring at the ceiling rafters. There was no sound in the room. Next to him, Martha was asleep. In the crib, beyond Martha’s side of the bed, Sandy slept with his thumb and the corner of the blanket in his mouth. Clare and Davis were in the next room, in the log section of the house, and it was still too early even for them.
Later they would follow him around offering to help. He would be patient and let them think they were helping and answer all of their questions. He would think about the two and a half years away from them and he would kiss them frequently and study them, holding their small faces gently in his hands.
The wind rose and with it came the distant, dry-creaking sound of the barn door.
Later on he would see about the barn. Perhaps in the afternoon, if they had not come by then. This morning he would run Kidston’s horses out of the meadow. Then perhaps Martha would have something for him to do.
They had worked until long after dark, sweeping, scrubbing, moving in their belongings. There would always be something more to be done; but that was all right because it was their home, something they had built themselves.