“Cable!”
“Now he speaks,” Lorraine said gravely, mockingly.
“Cable-show yourself!”
Cable moved past Lorraine into the open doorway. He looked out at Duane. “I’m right here.”
Duane’s fist came off his hips. For a moment before he spoke, his eyes measured Cable sternly. “Where do you have my daughter?”
“She’s here,” Cable said.
Again Duane stared in silence, his eyes narrowed and his jaw set firmly. The look is for your benefit, Cable thought. He’s not concentrating as much as he’s acting. He saw Duane then take a watch from his vest pocket, thumb it open and glance at the face.
Duane looked up. “You have three minutes by the clock to release my daughter. If you don’t, I will not be responsible for what happens to you.”
“I’m not holding her.”
“You have three minutes, Mr. Cable.”
“Listen, she came on her own. She can walk out any time she wants.” Behind him he heard Lorraine laugh.
Cable looked at her. “You’d better go out to him.”
“No, not yet,” she said. “Call his bluff and let’s see what he does.”
“Listen, while you’re being entertained, my wife and children are likely to get shot.”
“He wouldn’t shoot while I’m in here.”
“That’s something we’re not going to find out.” Cable’s hand closed on her arm. Lorraine pulled back, but he held her firmly and drew her into the doorway. He saw Duane return the watch to his pocket, and saw a smile of confidence form under the man’s neatly trimmed beard.
“All of a sudden, Mr. Cable, you seem a bit anxious,” Duane said. His hands went to his hips again.
Close to him, as Cable urged her through the door, Lorraine gasped theatrically, “Would you believe it!”
“Go on now,” Cable whispered. To Duane he said, “I told you once I wasn’t holding your daughter. What do I have to do to convince you?”
Duane’s expression tightened. “You keep quiet till I’m ready for you!” His gaze shifted to Lorraine who now stood under the ramada a few steps from Cable and half turned toward him. She stood patiently with her arms folded. “Lorraine, take your horse and go home.”
“I’d rather stay.” She glanced at Cable, winking at him.
“This is not something for you to see,” Duane said gravely.
“I don’t want to miss your big scene,” Lorraine said. “I can feel it coming.”
“Lorraine-I’m warning you!”
“Oh, stop it. You aren’t warning anyone.”
Duane’s voice rose. “I’m not going to tell you again!”
Smiling, Lorraine shook her head. “If you could only see yourself.”
“Lorraine-”
“All right.” She stopped him, raising her hands. “I surrender.” She laughed again, shaking her head, then moved unhurriedly to her horse, mounted and walked it slowly across the yard, smiling pleasantly at her father, her head turning to watch him until she was beyond his line of vision. She passed into the willow trees.
She’s had her fun, Cable thought, watching her. But now the old man is mad and he’ll take it out on you. Cable’s gaze returned to Duane. You mean he’ll try. At this moment he did not feel sorry for Duane; even after Duane had been made to look ridiculous by his own daughter. No, if Duane pushed him he would push him back. There was no time to laugh at this pompous little man with the General Grant beard; because beyond his theatrics this was still a matter of principle, of pride, of protecting his family, of protecting his land. A matter of staying alive too.
Cable said bluntly, “Now what?”
“Now,” Duane answered, drawing his watch again, “you have until twelve o’clock noon to pack your belongings and get out.” He looked down at the watch. “A little less than three hours.”
There it is, Cable thought wearily. You expected it and there it is. He looked over his shoulder, glancing back at his wife, then turned back to Duane.
“Mr. Kidston, I’m going to talk to my wife first. You just hang on for a minute.” He stepped back, swinging the door closed.
“Well?” he asked.
“This is yesterday,” Martha said, “with the places reversed.”
Cable smiled thinly. “We don’t make friends very easy, do we?”
“I don’t think it matters,” Martha said quietly, “whether Mr. Kidston likes us or not.”
“Then we’re staying,” Cable said.
“Did you think we wouldn’t?”
“I wasn’t sure.”
Martha went to the bedroom. She looked in at the children before coming to Cable. “Clare’s doing her letters for the boys.”
“Martha, make them stay in there.”
“I will.”
“Then stand by the window with the shotgun, but don’t shove the barrel out until I’m out there and they’re looking at me.”
“What will you do?”
“Talk to him. See how reasonable he is.”
“Do you think Vern is there?”
“No. I guess Vern does the work while Duane plays war.”
Martha’s lips parted to speak, but she smiled then and said nothing.
“What were you going to say?” Cable asked.
She was still smiling, a faint smile that was for Cable, not for herself. “I was going to tell you to be careful, but it sounded too typical.”
He smiled with her for a moment, then said, “Ready?” She nodded and Cable turned to the door. He opened it, closed it behind him, and stepped out to the shade of the ramada.
Duane Kidston had not moved; but Royce, holding the carbine with the white cloth, had come up on his right. Bill Dancey and Joe Bob remained fifteen to twenty feet behind them, though they had moved well apart.
“You have exactly”-Duane studied his watch-“two hours and forty-three minutes to pack and get out. Not a minute more.”
Cable moved from shade to sunlight. He approached Duane, seeing him shift his feet and pocket his watch, and he heard Royce say, “Don’t let him get too close.”
Then Duane: “That’s far enough!”
Cable ignored this. He came on until less than six feet separated him from Duane.
“I thought if we didn’t have to shout,” Cable said, “we could straighten this out.”
“There’s nothing to straighten,” Duane said stiffly.
“Except you’re trying to run me from my own land.”
“That assumption is the cause of your trouble,” Duane said. “This doesn’t happen to be your land.”
“It has been for ten years now.”
“This property belonged to a Confederate sympathizer,” Duane said. “I confiscated it in the name of the United States government, and until a court decides legal ownership, it remains ours.”
“And if we don’t leave?”
“I will not be responsible for what happens.”
“That includes my family?”
“Man, this is a time of war! Often the innocent must suffer. But that is something I can do nothing to prevent.”
“You make it pretty easy for yourself,” Cable said.
“I’m making it easy for you!” Duane paused, as if to control the rage that had colored his face. “Listen, the easy way is for you to load your wagon and get out. I’m giving you this chance because you have a family. If you were alone, I’d take you to Fort Buchanan as a prisoner of war.” Duane snapped his fingers. “Like that and without any talk.”
“Even though I’m no longer a soldier?”
“You’re still a Rebel. You fought for an enemy of the United States. You likely even killed some fine boys working for that bushwhacker of a Bedford Forrest and I’ll tell you this, whether you’re wearing a uniform or not, if it wasn’t for your family, I’d do everything in my power to destroy you.”
Joe Bob shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “That’s tellin’ him, Major.” He winked, grinning at Bill Dancey.
Duane glanced over his shoulder, but now Joe Bob’s face showed nothing. He stood lazily, with his hip cocked, and only nodded as Duane said, “I’ll do the talking here.”
Like yesterday, Cable thought. They’re waiting to eat you up. His gaze shifted from Royce and Duane to Joe Bob.