“You traveling alone?”
The woman looked toward the south.
“No.”
He waited.
She offered nothing else.
“People close?”
“Far enough.”
Samuel nodded.
He had no right to demand more.
She finished drinking and handed him the bucket.
“Thank you.”
“You need food?”
“No.”
Her stomach made the decision less convincing.
Samuel pretended not to hear.
“I have beans.”
She almost smiled.
“Every white rancher has beans.”
Samuel looked offended.
“I also have terrible coffee.”
That did make her smile.
Small.
Quick.
Then gone.
He gestured toward the shade beneath the porch.
“You can rest until the horse is ready.”
The woman looked at the house.
Then at him.
“Your wife?”
“Dead.”
Her expression changed.
“I am sorry.”
Samuel nodded.
“Six years.”
She looked toward the porch again.
“No family?”
“No.”
This seemed to surprise her more than his wife being dead.
“You live alone?”
“Mostly.”
“Why?”
Samuel laughed.
“That sounds less polite in English than you probably meant.”
She looked confused.
He shook his head.
“Never mind.”
The woman sat on the lowest porch step.
Samuel brought beans, tortillas, and the terrible coffee.
She ate slowly.
He sat several feet away.
Neither spoke for a while.
Finally she said:
“My name is Elena.”
Samuel looked at her.
“Samuel.”
“I know.”
His hand stopped halfway to his coffee.
“How?”
Elena glanced toward the barn.
“Hale.”
His name had been painted there years earlier.
SAMUEL & MIRIAM HALE.
Time had faded Miriam’s name more than his.
Samuel relaxed.
“Right.”
Elena looked toward the hills.
“You keep water open?”
“What?”
“For travelers.”
“If they ask.”
“Everyone?”
Samuel understood now.
“Usually.”
“Apache?”
There it was.
He looked at her.
“If they’re thirsty.”
Elena’s face remained unreadable.
“Mexican?”
“If they’re thirsty.”
“Soldier?”
“Unfortunately.”
That earned another faint smile.
“Cyrus Vane?”
Samuel stopped smiling.
“No.”
Elena noticed immediately.
“You know him.”
“Everyone knows Cyrus Vane.”
She looked toward the north where the biggest cattle operation in the valley spread across nearly twenty thousand acres of questionable deeds, leases, favors, and intimidation.
Vane called it the Broken Crown Ranch.
Samuel called it the reason half the valley hated fences.
“What about him?” Samuel asked.
Elena stood.
Her horse had lifted its head from the trough.