'Dead.' There was only a slight change in her tone. 'Almost four years ago. First Ma, and then Pa. Doc Doolie over at New Boston called it the summer complaint. Anyway…' She sat down on the milking stool and filled Gault's cup from the pot. 'Anyway, within about two weeks, me and Wolf was throwed on our own. And Wolf…' She spread her hands and looked at them. 'Wolf never was cut out to be a farmer. Claimed his hands just wouldn't fit around a hoe handle. On top of everything else, that was a dry year in Texas. Corn turned poorly and died. Most of the cotton never even sprouted.' She paused and looked levelly at Gault. 'Mr. Gault, do you see why I'm tellin' you all this?'
'No,' Gault confessed, 'I guess I don't.'
'I know how hard you must feel, about your wife and all. And I guess I know that Wolf done some bad things in his time. But he was my brother, and now he's dead. And I'd give most anything I've got if I could get you to see it how it was, so that you wouldn't hate him so much and would go away and leave us alone.'
Gault met those clear eyes for a moment. There didn't seem to be anything he could say. He had no wish to cause more grief for Esther Garnett, but it was highly unlikely that there was anything she could say or do that would cause him to stop hating her brother.
She sighed and gazed into space. 'It's not just because of myself that I wish you'd let Wolf rest. It's mostly on your account, Mr. Gault. It's a bad thing for a man to go around with so much hate banked up inside him.'
It occurred to Gault that this was a curious thing for her to say, although the thought had crossed his own mind many times. He wondered if someone had put her up to it. And if so, who? And why?
He ate half of the meat and one of the eggs and put the plate aside. She refilled his cup from the thick brew in the pot. The coffee was overroasted and bitter; the beans had been crushed Indian fashion in a limestone mortar and the resulting liquid was gritty enough to set Gault's teeth on edge. For the sake of appearances he drank part of what was in the cup, then built a smoke and lit it.
'Will you be stayin' on in Standard County, Mr. Gault? After you've mended enough to set a saddle?'
He forced a thin smile. 'I don't think so. I've had enough of Sheriff Olsen's county to last me a while.'
Was there a flicker of alarm in those clear eyes? 'What makes you call it 'Sheriff Olsen's county'?'
He sensed that he was on thin ice. 'Because he struck me as the kind of man that naturally runs things, I guess.'
She nodded thoughtfully and got to her feet. 'If there's anything you need, Mr. Gault…'
'There's something you can tell me. I'm curious about the gunhands that follow the deputy around—I'm curious about why they do it.'
'Colly and Shorty?' Her tone was incredulous. 'They ain't gunhands. Most of the time they work cattle, like most men hereabouts. Right now Deputy Finley's got them on as possemen. That's the deputy's right, in Standard County—hirin' possemen when he feels like he needs them.'
Gault let the matter drop. He wasn't satisfied, but he had a feeling that Esther Garnett had said all she was going to say on the matter. 'I'm much obliged for the breakfast, Miss Garnett.'
'I'll have Shorty kill one of the old hens and cook you some chicken and dumplin's for dinner,' she told him. Her eyes were so clear and youthful, and her smile so pleased, that Gault didn't have the heart to tell her that there were few things in the way of food that he detested as much as chicken and dumplings.
The noontime meal of chicken and dumplings arrived as promised. The dumplings were as tough as rawhide; the chicken was remarkable in that it seemed to be all bone and tendon. Gault asked, 'Are the deputy and his two possemen still here?'
'Down in the bottom, thinnin' out the cotton.'
'Do you work this farm all by yourself?'
She smiled wistfully. 'With the help of good men like Shorty and Colly and Deputy Finley.'
'Did you know Shorty and Colly when they rode with your brother?'
The smile remained at the corners of her mouth, but those blue eyes were still and thoughtful. 'That's just a story folks tell. Shorty and Colly never rode with Wolf. I never saw them before…' She turned her head and blinked rapidly.
'Before they rode in from their trail-driving job to identify Wolf's body?' Gault was not an unfeeling man, but for this one moment he was deliberately brutal. He felt, without knowing just why, that it was important to know how Miss Garnett would react to this kind of bluntness.
She only glanced at him fleetingly and nodded. If she was offended in any way, she did not show it.
The afternoon Gault took a short turn at walking back and forth across the shed. Esther had bound his rib cage firmly, and walking was not as difficult as he had expected. He might even be able to ride for a short distance, but he was in no hurry to try it just yet.
Around midafternoon he saw Dub Finley come up from the cornfield and wash up at the Garnett well. Colly Fay brought up two horses and began saddling them. In a little while the deputy appeared in the doorway of the shed and stood there, arms folded across his chest. 'Miss Esther gives you another day or so,' he said, 'then you'll be in shape to ride. Are you goin' to keep crowdin' your luck, Gault, or are you goin' to let Standard County alone?'
Gault gazed at the deputy and tried to size him up. He saw a brash young man who could be deadly when pushed. No doubt he was smitten with Esther Garnett's beauty and was probably in love with her. But that alone did not set him apart from other men—Gault suspected that most of the men in Standard County were in love with Esther Garnett, or thought they were. 'How long have you been deputyin' for Sheriff Olsen?' Gault asked.
The question caused Finley to frown. 'What makes you ask?'
'I was wonderin' if he knew he had a murderer for a deputy. Or if he knew and just didn't care.'
Gault watched with interest as the deputy's face paled. His strong shoulders tensed, and for a moment Gault thought he was going for his .45. Then Shorty Pike came up behind him and said, 'I'll be ready in a little while. I want to give the horses a feed before we do.' With an uncurious glance at Gault, the little gunhand turned and strode back across the farmyard.
'You goin' back to New Boston?' Gault asked. 'Ain't you afraid to leave me here by myself?'
The deputy looked at him and flexed his shoulders and made himself relax. 'You won't be all by yourself. We're leavin' Colly back to see that you get a good start toward the Territory.' He allowed himself a small smile. 'Colly may not look like a man that would hold a grudge. But he'll be a long time forgettin' the way you knocked that rifle out of his hand and made him look foolish. My advice is handle him gentle and do like he tells you.'
'What if I don't want to head back for the Territory?'
Finley shook his head in mock sorrow and turned from the doorway.
A few minutes later Colly brought up the saddled horses, and Finley and Shorty Pike rode back to the south. Esther Garnett stood in her back dooryard waving to them and smiling. It was a warm, common scene, one that Gault had seen hundreds of times before, and he wouldn't have thought anything about it if the two horsebackers hadn't been killers, and if the woman hadn't been the sister of Wolf Garnett.
Late that afternoon a young cowhand stopped by and spent an hour making cow eyes at Esther Garnett and helping Colly with the evening chores. Gault was beginning to understand how Miss Garnett could keep her farm in excellent repair without actually doing much of the work herself.
With the coming of the night the year-long rage caught fire in Gault's gut. He sat alone in the darkening shed, thinking of Martha. A blackness much blacker than the coming night, came down on him.
He did not know how long it took sleep to overtake him. But he awoke suddenly to the sound of scurrying outside the shed. A long, thin figure appeared in the doorway and slid into the darkness.
'Gault, you awake?'
The voice belonged to no one that Gault had ever heard before. 'Who are you?'
'Name's Sewell. Wirt Sewell. I want to talk to you.'
'What about?' Gault peered into the dark corner where the stranger was crouching, but he could see nothing of the man's face.
'Wolf Garnett,' Sewell told him. 'It might be we can do one another some good.'
For several seconds Gault didn't even breathe. At last he said, 'Move over in the light where I can see you.'
The stranger hesitated, then moved into the soft moonlight that sifted through the shed's only opening. He
