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“You do everything the hard way, don't you, Reese?” Jen had said. “The cattle are out of Sutton County, and they're out of the second judicial district. Neither of us need do anything except to tell Sheriff Braden that they're in his county.”

Reese had said grimly, “I want to see who's driving them, Jen.”

“And pull every Hoad in the county down on your neck?”

“They're on it now,” Reese had said.

“Why can't I ride home?”

“You don't know the country, so you'd have to stick to the road. That means a two-day ride alone and too much could happen.”

“Like what?” Jen had scoffed.

“Like meeting a Hoad who remembers you did your level best to hang Orv.”

Last night she had accepted this but this morning she was in quiet revolt. Supposing Reese located the herd, saw who was driving it, avoided trouble and reported it to Braden who would make the necessary arrests? At the trial Reese's testimony would be discredited because the defense lawyer would claim that Reese was prejudiced against all Hoads. Moreover he could not testify against Callie. Besides that the Hoads would be tried in another judicial district; she would not be the prosecutor. Reese needed a supporting witness.

Should she bring it up now? Looking at him, she decided not. Jen thought that his dark, beard-stubbled face could be described this morning as thoughtfully angry, if that made any sense. He could not quite hide the impatience that was riding him. If she read her man aright, a re-opening of the argument now would be met with a short, polite but adamant no.

As they finished their coffee Jen asked, “How will you go about it today, Reese?”

“Cross over the Pass, then head south for Hendricks' place. It's at the head of a long canyon they'll have to travel. Once they broke out of it, they could have gone in any direction.” Reese rose now. “The stage will be through around noon, Jen. Armistead will board your horse until I pick him up on my way back. Now I've got to get some grub.”

Together they went into the store where Reese bought a loaf of Mrs. Armistead's bread and some jerky. He paid for their food, lodging and his supplies with an eagle and gave the change to Jen for her food and her stage fare. Afterwards she went out to the corral with him and watched him catch and saddle his horse. Before he mounted he lifted his carbine from the scabbard and checked its loads and did the same with the six-shooter. Then he stepped into the saddle and looked down at her.

“We had two nice days out of it, Jen. No, I forgot Callie. We had one.”

“There'll be other times,” Jen said, then added soberly, “Please be careful, Reese.”

Reese smiled faintly. “I will. I know my Hoads.”

She watched him ride out and then moved over to the stable-hand who was mending harness out in the sunlight before the open door of the log barn. He was little more than a boy, and when he saw her approaching, he put the harness aside, uncrossed his legs and came to his feet.

“Good morning,” Jen said. “You know this country well?”

“Purely perfect, ma'am. I was born ten miles the other side of the Pass.”

“Do you know the Hendricks' place just over the divide from Copper Canyon?”

“Yes, ma'am, but he's dead.”

“I know, but how would I get to his place from here?”

Asked to make good his brag, the boy was silent, thinking and remembering. Then he said, “You go over the Pass and a mile or so down, you'll come to a little creek. Pass it, that ain't the one. A mile or so beyond it you'll come to a bigger creek. You can't miss it because there's a bridge there. Turn south and follow it till you come to a falls, a big falls. It's the first you'll see. Then take off due south. You'll come to a shallow canyon in an hour or so and that ain't the one. A half hour's ride beyond it you'll come to a steep canyon. It's called Hendricks Canyon and you'll likely be above his place.” He hesitated. “What you want to go there for?”

“I'm meeting someone there. Would you saddle my horse for me?”

“Right now,” the boy said.

As Jen turned on her way back to her room she thought,
Creek with a bridge, falls, the second canyon. When I leave the falls, the sun should be over my left shoulder.

In her room as she collected her few belongings and rolled them in the blanket roll, doubts began to assail her. What if she missed Reese? But how could she? Now that she knew what sign was left by two hundred head of cattle, she would follow it the way Reese would follow it. If she lost sign of the beef and therefore Reese, she would simply keep riding west. All towns, Moffitt included, had four roads leading into them. She was bound to intercept the north-south road and then turn north on it to Moffitt. On the money Reese had given her, she could stay the night and take the stage back to Bale. That was the worst that could happen. The best that could happen was that with her precise directions she might be at Hendricks Canyon ahead of Reese. At any rate, if she were behind him, then eventually she would find his camp when it got too dark for him to read sign.

In the store below she bought the same food Reese had. Out in the barn, where her saddled horse was tied, she unrolled her blankets, put the food in and then tied the roll behind her saddle under the careful attention of the boy.

“If I didn't have to make the noon team change, I'd go with you,” he said.

“I'll make out fine,” Jen answered. She gave him a half dollar for his help which he accepted gratefully, then mounted, picked up the Pass road and started the climb.

As she rode on through the morning, all her thoughts were of Reese and what the future held for both of them. If the Hoads were apprehended and tried, Callie along with them, what would happen? All the Hoads would swear along with Callie that they had bought the cattle legally and were within their rights in trading them. Reese, Jen knew, would work his heart out to get a conviction against the Hoads and that inevitably must include Callie. In cow country the stealing of cattle was worse than stealing money because the increase of the cattle was stolen too.

Jen tried to remember from her reading of law if a woman had ever been convicted of cattle theft and could not. But even if Callie got off scot-free, the shame of the charge would cling to her and thus to Reese. One way to look at it, she thought soberly, was that Reese was working mightily to doom himself in the end. Reese had said over and over that there was no solution to their situation, and it looked as if he might be right. All either of them could attempt was to do the right thing and accept whatever consequences waited for them.

The consequences they were living with now were bad enough; always hungry for each other, they behaved like proper cousins, knowing that if they once let go this was unstoppable. Neither of them could live with the consequences of that. What she probably should do was find a good man and marry him, putting herself out of Reese's way. Yet that would be cheating any man she married by giving herself without loving. She could love most certainly, but only Reese.

The stable-boy's directions were flawless. The bridge, the stream, the falls, the shallow canyon were where he said they would be, and when she came to the second canyon and reined in to look down into it, she saw a log shack downstream which must be Hendricks' old place. Looking back toward the peaks, she saw that this canyon started to form right below the saddle and that it was the only route the cattle could travel. It occurred to her that this being so there was no sense in threading her way down into the boulder-strewn canyon floor when she could travel the rim with the canyon floor always in sight. Accordingly she turned west now, knowing that eventually the canyon walls would fall away and she could descend to pick up the cattle sign. The tips of far distant thunderheads were poking up behind the peaks, and she wondered if by afternoon they would overtake her with rain.

Riding steadily west she noticed that as she progressed the canyon walls began to fall away. The boulder-strewn stream below glittered in the sunlight when the bank brush thinned out enough so she could see it. The sight of it made her thirsty, and she decided that at the next gully break in the rim rock she would descend, drink and eat. Presently she reined up at one of these gully breaks and gauged its steepness.

It was then she heard the first distant shot.

It was followed by two more in quick succession. It seemed, as best she could judge, to come from up the side of the canyon ahead of her. Each shot echoed in the canyon and then, on the heels of the last one, came an answering shot of a different tone, almost muffled. She guessed that came from the canyon floor, and now she lifted her horse into a run, forgetting her plan. At intervals the shooting continued, closer now. The sparse timber was thinning out and now, not far ahead of her, she could see the distant flats below. Then another shot came, and now Jen moved her horse to the edge of the canyon rim. In one sweeping glance she took in the fact that at this point was the canyon's mouth where the stream broke out to a sparsely forested grassy plain. And isolated in that plain was a downed horse. Then a shot rang out from below her. Jen stepped out of the saddle and moved to the very edge of the rim. There, halfway down the side of the canyon, was a rocky shelf. At its edge, belly down behind a rock, was a man with a rifle, his hat beside him. Now he turned his head and reached out for the shell belt beside the hat. With slow shock, Jen could tell by the pale Hoad hair and the blade of a nose that this was a Hoad and specifically Orville Hoad.

A swift fear slammed into Jen as she shifted her glance to the downed horse. It was grey like Reese's.

Now Orville shot again rapidly, three shots, and she heard the whomp of the bullets into the surely dead horse. After the third shot Jen saw a rifle barrel appear over the horse's body and the top of a man's head, Reese's. He shot twice and Jen saw Orville roll away behind his protecting rock.

Now Jen looked at the downed horse and saw Reese rise, turn toward the screening brush of the creek bank, take a step, then fall on his face. She watched with terror as he rolled back, clawing his way again to the protection of his dead horse. He was hurt, Jen knew, and had tried and failed to make the screening brush of the creek bank.

Now Jen ran back to her horse, swung into the saddle and lifted him into a run. The first break in the rim rock was blocked by huge boulders that barred the way. She went on and at the next break in the rim rock she surveyed the gully, thought it dangerous and didn't care. Her horse momentarily balked, then, at Jen's frantic kicking at his flanks, took the gully. Giving him free rein, Jen seized his mane for a handhold. The horse, settled on his haunches, slid down in a cascade of rolling rocks, dust pluming out behind it. Jen freed her feet from the stirrups, expecting her horse to go down, expecting to have to jump, but by some miracle the horse stayed upright, sliding and veering to avoid the big chunks of fallen rim rock that filled the gully.

When the next shot came from Orville, it was from above her and far to the right but Jen's attention was wholly on the terrain ahead of her horse. She watched, terrified and helpless, as the horse fought its way down, ever closer to the green brush of the creek bottom. Finally, in a last desperate evasive movement just before they reached the gully mouth, the horse began to run and they came out onto the flat at a dead gallop, Jen once more controlling the reins.

Immediately Jen turned right toward the canyon mouth and raced her horse across the boulder-strewn talus slope.

Would Orville shoot at her, she wondered? Let him. Her answer came when she broke out of the canyon and headed across the flats toward Reese. She heard a shot and saw a spurt of earth ahead of her horse. A second and third shot, the last closest of all, geysered earth ahead of her.

Now she heard Reese's shout, “Go back! Jen, go back!”

Instead Jen veered off toward the thicket of alders lining the creek bed that would hide her horse from Orville's rifle. She plunged through them and into the stream, dismounted, wrapped her horse's reins around an alder branch, then ran back through the alders toward Reese.

Breaking out into the open now she ran toward him. He was lying belly down against his horse, his head a little raised, looking in her direction. A warning shot kicked up dirt ahead of her but she didn't check her run until she reached Reese.

“Get down beside me!” Reese called.

Jen stood above him, open to Orville's rifle if he wished to use it on her. “You're hurt. I saw you fall.”

“Will you
please
get down here beside me, Jen,” Reese begged.

“He isn't going to shoot me. He's already had the chance. Where are you hurt, Reese? Roll over so I can see.”

Reese rolled over against his horse and Jen saw that his whole right pant leg was sodden with blood.

Now Jen kneeled. “Give me your knife, Reese.”

He fumbled it from his pocket and Jen took it and cut his trouser leg from mid-thigh to knee. Blood was oozing from the wound on his thigh and the exit hole on the inside of it was bleeding through a jagged tear of flesh. Now Jen picked up Reese's hat, rose and ran back toward the stream. Still no shots. After plucking handfuls of moss from the stream bank, washing them free of dirt, she filled Reese's hat with water and came back to him.

This time she didn't run for fear of spilling the water. She was an easy target but there were no shots. Once beside Reese she said, “Can you strip out of your shirt without exposing yourself?” Reese nodded and as he was struggling out of his shirt, Jen said, “I know you have another one in your blanket roll. I'll have to tear this up for bandages.”

She took the shirt and ripped off both sleeves, then through the cut on Reese's trouser leg she washed the wound with one of the sleeves and applied the moss to the entrance and exit holes. Afterwards she wrapped both sleeves around his leg and tied them securely. During it all, even when Jen had gently washed the shredded flesh where the bullet had exited, Reese said nothing. Only when she was finished did Jen look at him. His face had drained of color but he managed a wry smile of gratitude.