What mattered more now was what that life felt like from inside the cabin. During the third week of December, trouble finally came. One afternoon, Clay Ror rode back from the north pasture and found four horses tied along his fence. Four men stood on the porch. He recognized two of them immediately.
Vance Crowe owned a cattle outfit east of Crestfield. Beside him stood his younger brother, Deak Crowe, a man known mostly for following Vance wherever he went and agreeing with whatever Vance said. Clay did not recognize the other two from their clothes, boots, and saddles. They looked like ranch hands or hired riders. Their names were Hank Voss and Jeb Slade.
Nia stood in the doorway. She had not gone inside. Her arms rested quietly at her sides. Clay rode in at a walk, dismounted, and took his place between the fence and the porch steps, facing Vance Crow directly. Vance Clay.
Vance Crow removed his hat, then settled it back on his head, an old habit of his whenever he was working up the nerve to say something he knew might not be welcome. Folks in town are concerned. Concerned about what? About you having a messcalero woman living out here? About what kind of message that sends?
The message is that I run my land the way I see fit. Klay said, Vance's mouth tightened. She needs to leave before this turns into trouble for the whole county. We've had three years of peace with the messcalero. Arrangements like this stir things up.
People start getting ideas. What people? Vance did not give him a straight answer. Hank Voss and Jeb Slade shifted slightly where they stood. Not much, but enough for Clay to notice.
He kept his eyes fixed on Vance. You ought to leave. Clay, be reasonable. You're standing on my land without an invitation. I've already told you to go.
Klay paused, his throat dry. I'll tell you once more. Vance's jaw hardened. He glanced past Clay toward Nia in the doorway, then looked back at him with the expression of a man who hated hearing no, but had not yet decided how far he was willing to push things. "Think carefully about what you're doing," Vance said.
"I am." The four men mounted and rode away. Clay remained standing in the yard, watching until they had become nothing more than a trail of dust stretching down the road. Then he turned. Nia was still in the doorway.