Walter's jaw worked a moment before the words came. Said Bole's got a personal score to settle with a rancher out this way. said it wasn't just business anymore, not for him. Said he means to make an example of it, whatever that means. I know. He paid me a visit himself.
Walter's face went pale. Here this afternoon. Caleb. Walter's voice cracked slightly. Something raw underneath it that Caleb had never heard from him before.
I've spent weeks telling you to be careful of the wrong kind of stranger. Never once thought to warn you about the one already wearing a familiar face. Why are you here, Walter? Walter was quiet a long moment. When he spoke again, the words came slower like each one cost him something.
Because I've known you eight years, he said, "And in 8 years, I've never once seen you make a choice I couldn't understand, even when I disagreed with it. That day you fed to those travelers. I called you soft. Men too at the time. He shook his head slowly.
Wasn't soft, was it? Was just decent. Something this whole territory's forgotten how to be most days. Caleb didn't answer right away. Truth is, Walter went on, I've been turning it over since.
All my talk about chasing off strangers, deciding quick who counts as danger. Never once stopped to ask myself what kind of man that turns me into. Deciding so fast, so sure of myself. Bole's the kind of danger I was always warning you about. Wore the wrong face for me to see it coming.
You couldn't have known. Maybe not. Still sits wrong with me. Walter looked down at his hat again. I've got a rifle in 40 years of stubbornness, Caleb.
Not much else to offer, but it's yours if you'll have it. Bole's got near 20 men now, Walter continued after a moment. Maybe more by week's end. He's not hiding what he means to do. Not really.
Man like that doesn't hide. Just waits for the moment it'll hurt the most. How much time do I have? Don't know. Days maybe, not weeks.
Walter met his eyes steady despite everything. I can to tell you I'll stand with you if it comes to that. whatever that's worth from a man who spent a month telling you to be afraid of the wrong thing. Something eased in Caleb's chest just slightly at that. Not enough to erase the fear sitting there. Enough to make it bearable.
It's worth something, Caleb said. Worth a lot, actually. Walter nodded once, sharp, like a man settling a debt he'd been carrying too long. He didn't leave right away, though. Stood there a moment longer, hat still in his hands, and then set it down on the table like a man deciding to stay a while after all.
Show me the ground," he said. While there's still lamp enough to see it by, they walk the property together. The two of them, lantern light, swinging low across dirt and fence and the dark shapes of the barn. Walter had fought in the war, too, briefly before a wound sent him home early, and something in him seemed to wake up out here in the dark. Some old soldiers habits surfacing the same way it had surfaced in Caleb weeks before.
"Bn gives you cover," Walter said, studying the angles. "But it's a box. Only one door in, one door out. You get pinned in there. That's the end of it.
Was already planning to fight from the house. House is better. Windows on three sides at least. Still leaves your north approach wide open, though. Walter pointed toward the low rise beyond the well.
Man with a rifle up there could pick you off before you ever saw him coming. Notice that myself. We'll need to give you eyes on it then. Something that catches the light or makes noise if a horse comes through. Walter rubbed his jaw, thinking, "I've got some old cans back at my place.
String them along that rise quiet as we can manage. Won't stop anybody. Might buy you a few seconds of warning, though. Sometimes a few seconds is the whole difference. "Appreciate it," Walter.
"Don't thank me yet," Walter said. "Thank me after if there's an after to thank me in. "It wasn't much of a joke. Neither of them laughed at it. But something passed between them anyway, standing there in the dark with a lantern between them and 20 riders.
Somewhere out in the night, the particular wordless understanding of two men who had decided, each in his own time, which side of this they meant to stand on. "Get some rest if you can," Walter said finally turning for the door. "Don't figure either of us will get much once this starts in earnest. Caleb stood alone in the doorway, long after Walter's horse had faded into the dark. The letter from Ruth still folded in his shirt pocket, the memory of Bole's smile still sitting cold in his chest.
He thought about Toya, about the peaceful weight of that evening weeks back. The fire, the quiet, the old man's hand pressed flat against his heart. Wondered distantly, foolishly whether that family had made it safely wherever they were going. Wondered if he'd ever know. He thought too about Chody's shoulder, about Itua's fierce protective grip on the boy's arm, about the quiet dignity all four of them had carried even in exhaustion.
Whatever ground they'd walked that evening, whatever village had once stood there before Bole's men rode through it, burning everything they could reach, none of it existed anymore. He understood that now fully in a way. He hadn't quite let himself understand it 3 weeks back. They weren't running from an old danger. They were running from him.