Three riders emerged from the pines. Boone Kersey came first. His smile never reached his eyes. A long, dust-coated coat hung from his shoulders, and he rode with the easy arrogance of a man who believed anything he saw could eventually belong to him. To his right rode Gus Talbott, broad across the shoulders, heavy-built.
A long scar twisted one side of his face into a permanent sneer. On Boone's left came Cade Varner, tall, lean, restless. His eyes moved constantly across the cabin, the porch, the trees, searching for weakness the way a wolf searched for a wounded animal. The three men stopped their horses in front of the cabin. Their attention never left Cal.
"Morning, rancher." Boone called. His voice was smooth, too smooth. "Fine day for company." Cal kept the rifle pointed toward the ground, but only barely.
"I don't remember inviting any." Boone gave a short laugh. He shifted in the saddle, resting one leg comfortably before leaning forward. "We're looking for something." He paused.
"Or maybe I should say someone." His eyes slid towards the cabin, sharp, cold. "Word is you came back through the woods carrying a mighty interesting prize. His smile thinned. Apache woman.
Hurt pretty bad. He tilted his head. That sound familiar? Tala flinched behind Cal. Only slightly.
Cal did not move. His jaw tightened. Can't say it does. Gus Talbot spat into the dirt. Funny.
His scar pulled tighter as he spoke. Town says different. Cal narrowed his eyes. He knew how quickly talk traveled through frontier settlements. Faster than rainwater through a dry wash.
Faster than a snake through tall grass. Town talks too much. Boone's smile grew smaller, meaner. Enough games. His voice lost some of its softness.
That woman belongs to us. The words hung in the cold air. She's ours. Boone shifted his reins in one hand. Hand her over and we ride away without trouble.
He let the silence stretch. Then added. Otherwise. His smile returned. That'd be a real shame.
Behind Cal, Tala tightened her grip on the blanket. Her breathing had quickened. But she stayed where she was. Cal lifted the rifle just enough for the morning light to catch along the barrel. I don't figure you've got any business here.