In the lantern light, Evan had the lantern held low, Caleb could see them clearly enough. Two young, one not. The not young one had the look of someone who'd made these calculations many times and was running them again now, assessing the ratio of risk to reward, deciding whether the people at the fence with rifles were real opposition or theater. "I've got men on the south and east," Caleb said conversationally, because panic never helped and quiet authority often did. "You've got one way left open, and it's the one you came in on.
I'd suggest you use it." The not young man looked at him. He looked at Evan. He looked at the cattle already drifting back from the wire gap, disturbed by the shot.
"Nothing here worth dying for," Caleb said. The man turned his horse. The two younger ones followed without a word. They went back through the tree line, and the sound of their horses' hooves on the frozen ground diminished and then disappeared, and the night went back to its cold, ordinary silence.
Evan let out a breath. "Good," Caleb said. "That's it?" Evan said. "What did you want?"
Evan thought about it. "I don't know," he said. Something that felt more like a resolution. "This is what a resolution looks like most of the time," Caleb said. "Nobody got hurt.
The cattle are still here. That's the resolution." He put the rifle over his shoulder and started back toward the fence to assess the wire damage. "Help me patch this."
Evan came and held the wire while Caleb worked the splice, and they did the repair by lantern light in the cold. Working with the wordless efficiency they'd developed over months of working side by side, each knowing what the other needed without having to ask. When they were done, Evan said, "Do you think they'll come back?" "Probably not," Caleb said.
"Men who do this work don't re-approach a target that's defended. Too many easier ones elsewhere." He tested the splice. "Solid.
But we keep the watches." "Right," Evan said. They walked back across the yard. The other men were already coming in from their positions, Reuter stamping cold feet, the younger Kellerman boy looking slightly disappointed that there hadn't been more to it, Carl looking carefully neutral in the way he'd been looking since the barn argument, which was the look of a boy working on something in himself.