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"I wish I could find words to express the trueness, the bravery, the hardihood, the sense of honor, the loyalty to their trust and to each other of the old trail hands." -- Charles Goodnight

Laura and Hurd both remained quiet as Vernon drove the carriage out of town. No one was really in a mood to talk, and they all had things to think about. But as they got further away from Sabbath, and closer to the highlands and home, they relaxed some.

The evening was near when Vernon dropped his friends at the Price farm. He declined to stay for dinner. -Ought to get home to my missus, he said looking at Price. He was again worried for his friend. -Cheer up, pal. You´re a landowner now! Then he tipped his hat and took the reins. -I´ll catch ya tomorrow, OK?

Once inside, Laura started preparing something to eat. Vern´s words were still hanging in the silent air. Tomorrow.

She looked out the window, and saw dark clouds gathering in the sky. -We´ll get some rain tonite, she said breaking the long silence. -Finally, we can harvest, she added and added in a whisper... tomorrow.

That single word meant a lot to her at that moment. It was a promise of a future, that were was going to be a new day, no matter what.

The silence was still there when they sat down to have dinner. Laura sighed, and glanced at Hurd. Then she muttered something about not being hungry and stood up to go to bed, leaving Hurd once again alone. The invisible wall between the two had become even higher after the recent events it seemed.

“Rebecca Thatcher”. Tom glanced at her face – it was white with terror. “Did you tear – no, look me in the face” Her hands rose in appeal. “Did you tear this book?”

A thought shot like lightning through Tom's brain. He sprang to his feet and shouted: “I done it!”.

The school stared in perplexity at this incredible folly. Tom stood a moment to gather his dismembered faculties, and when he stepped forward to go to his punisment the surprise, the gratitude, the adoration that shone upon him out of poor Becky's eyes seemed pay enough for a hundred floggings. Inspired by the splendor of his own act, he took without an outcry the most merciless flaying that even Mr. Dobbins had ever administered.

Tom went to bed that night with Becky's latest words lingering dreamily in his ear: “Tom, how COULD you be so noble!”

The lamp flickered and faded away. Hurd blinked in the darkness of the living room. He put the book down and yawned widely. It was probably time for him to go to bed as well. It was sooner than other times, but tonight he was tired enough to try and get some sleep. Moving the chair carefully, he stood up and put the book in the cupboard, then walked quietly to the bedroom.

Laura was laying there like a sleeping angel in her white nightgown, her loose hair catching the moonlight. He contemplated her for a moment. How could a man have a woman like that waiting for him in bed and...? Hurd shaked his head as he joined her, taking care not to wake her up.

He'd been feeling bad for her, for all the mistrust and annoyance he'd shown today. They had an agreement, Hurd knew that. He always respected her. But this whole situation was overwhelming him. Hurd had enough in his plate with everyday problems. He was not a dared and mighty gunslinger like the dammned Maddox. Not even close.

He was the kind of man that had to work like a mule for months to pay his debts. Dammit, that Dusaine... One hundred and thirty dollars. More. And Mr. Bronson would probably not be in the best mood to be asked for money right now. It was best to wait until all this was settled down – God willing.

Hurd was a tiny bit more optimistic about the matter now, after meeting Lucas. The man seemed to know what had to be done. His plan was a bit vague in Hurd's opinion, but he claimed to know Maddox well. It might work. Hurd could now understand why Laura wanted to see her old friend. However, she could have said something at least. This time it was all different, goddammit. All they had worked for could be at stake. This was not only about the past, but about the future. For both of them.

And despite that, Hurd was worried about something more. Something not so earthly. He couldn't get rid of the thought that, all in all, if someone was right in all this, it was Maddox. Hurd was surely not in a position to allow himself the luxury of having principles, but he couldn't avoid it. Never could. That was why he had come West in the first place: to live an honest life. He could have stayed back in Carolina and things might have been easier, in terms of livelihood at least. He'd be working with his father and the guys in their shady business. He'd be now a petty thieve and probably a drunkard like the old man. He wouldn't have had to leave little Jane behind...

Hurd sighed heavily, trying to put the bitter thoughts and memories away. After a while, the exhaustion finally hit him and he fell asleep.

Next morning, Hurd was up earlier than usual. The sun was not up when he went out. He wanted to protect the crop, and there was this fence that needed fixing. His gun belt was on the way, but he preferred to carry the shooting iron nowadays.

He kept working, hoping not to wake Laura up. For a moment, he thought about going to Vern´s place. Then he saw Laura come out, still wearing her white night gown.

-Where are you going, Hurd? I want to know, she asked. Then she realized maybe Hurd was not actually leaving, just working outside. She was afraid he was already gone, without saying nothing, leaving her again with the burden on her heart.

-Hurd, I´ve been thinkin´. A lot. This, she looked around her, -this piece of dirt that wouldn't grow wheat. It doesn´t matter much without you and me here, ya know. You don´t owe Bronson´s nothing. Maybe, if the negotiation doesn’t solve the matter, maybe… then have you though ´bout givin´ yourself up?

- I'm goin' nowhere, hon. - he frowned, contemplating her face. She looked so worried and troubled. Just like him. For a moment he felt closer to her than ever.

Then the straight question caught him by surprise.

- Give myself up? That's... That be...  - He looked away. His first instinct, as always, was to hide his feelings. But it felt pointless now. Laura was speaking her mind. It was a good chance to do the same.

- I've thought 'bout that, actually. I've also been thinkin' a lot these days. Ya know, everyone's so concern'd 'bout savin' their butts, and I reckon nobody even consider'd for a moment that someone died. A man was killed. But no one care 'bout that. They just want the Marshall gone so we all can keep on with our lives. - He paused and shrugged. - We're responsible for what happen'd in Bannock. The Devil himself be comin' for us, that ain't gonna change the fact.

Hurd sighed, then raised his eyes from the floor to gaze at Laura's - But no, I'm not thinkin' 'bout turnin' myself in. - Not exactly, he thought - Might sound like nonsense, but I don't feel like I kill no one that night, Laura. I can count the men I've shot with the fingers of one hand, and believe me, I remember all them faces. No matter how drunk I was, something like that I wouldn't just forget.

He strode back and forth along the porch for a moment. When he looked back at her he was frowning again, but now there was a shy spark of resolution in his face.

- I'm not to pay for this. But there's somethin' I could do. I could testify against the killer.

-I know you never shot anybody that night, Hurd. I can see it in your eyes, she said and suddenly she too felt the two were closer than they had been for a long time. -I heard Bannock has a circuit judge, and not a hangin´ kind. If you were to stand trial, tell ´em what happened, and come in peaceful.... No hurt ought to come to you.

Laura removed a tear that had appeared in the corner of her eye, and swallowed before continuing. -And then there is the town, the good people with the rope. But Maddox is the lawman in Bannock, and I know he would protect you. If you surrendered. Maybe you could do it in your own terms. You´re a good and kind man, Hurd Price. Not like other men I´ve known. And I don´t want to see you dead.

Laura watched Hurd who was now sitting, hanging his head down. Thinking. She knew men well enough to know that they needed to think things through, to ponder each action. This was their world, after all. And their actions here made ´em what they were, who they were. A man of courage. Or a coward. A man of their word. Or a liar. A murderer. Or someone protecting their kin.

Hurd had been looking for himself, for his place in this world, and now it was time to make a stand. Time... The clock on the wall was ticking. There was still time...

And then, from far away, they saw Vernon Adams riding towards the farm. And a shivered went through Laura´s spine. Women had this way of seeing things men could never phantom. Vern was riding in a hurry, but he did that often. No, it was not something you could point your finger at. It was pure female intuition. She knew. She just knew... That the time was up.

Something had happened. Something terrible. She closed her eyes and for the first time in years, she prayed.

Vernon Adams rode his horse to the Price farm, and greeted his friends as he got down. He had something important to say, but he did not know where to start. He looked at Laura, and she nodded and went inside.

How is it that women always know when to give some space…

-Hurd, he started, somethin´ happened yesterday pal, after we left town. It´s Harv, he … he challenged Maddox. Crowe was there, too. He saw the whole thing. Harv went for his shooting iron first, but …

Vern scratched his head and looked to the ground. –Crowe and Ryan took the body to Bronson´s, he´ll be buried later. After the dead are buried, I reckon things are gonna get real ugly. Real soon, ya know? I ain´t plannin´ to stay ´round to figure it out. No, not me, he added pointing at the saddle bags that were heavy with provisions and other kit.

Once again, Vern came to take him out of his ruminations. However, Hurd listened to his words as if they were old news. His face was blank, stiff like a mask.

- Well... This changes everythin'. - he muttered, feeling frustrated, beaten, too tired to show surprise or concern. There was nothing they could do now, no plan, no alternative. Bronson would not forgive this. Corman was one thing, but Steinbaugh...

This was war now. And Vern was right. They had to go.

- Not me neither, Vern. - he sighed - Lemme grab my stuff.

-Yeah, you do that, Hurd, Vern said reassuringly. –Some food, sleeping bag, the shooting iron you got from Fort Worth, the shotgun…, he muttered. It was hard to make out what he was saying. Vern was nervous as hell, he was already chewing a big chunk of tobacco, and now he put more into his mouth.

-Bronson has called a meeting. But I ain´t goin, and I´m glad to see you´re ain´t either. I´ll meet ya at the Wolf Creek crossing, he said and headed back to his horse. He reckoned it was best to give Hurd some privacy in case he needed to say somethin´ to Laura. -Look... It´s only for a week or two, until the damn thing blows over, alright pal?

The crossing was less than a mile southwest. From there, they could ride to south, to the Mexican land, far away from Bronsons, and Arizona jurisdiction.

Hurd went inside and started packing quickly. Some dry meat, bullets, the green sleeping bag from the cattle drive… That seemed like another life now.

He was almost finished, when Laura entered the room from the kitchen. Hurd did not turn around to face her at first…

-Where are you going? I want to know… , she said with both anger and sadness in her voice in a way only a woman knows how to do. -You´re running, aren´t you Hurd?, she asked again, yet she knew the answer as she watched Hurd pack his things. -For a moment, I thought you'd give yourself up...

- It’s pointless now. Maddox shot Steinbaugh. Negotiations are over. Ain’t no turning back now.

Hurd finished packing up and turned to look at her.

- It won’t be for too long. Vern says a couple weeks will do. And you’ll be fine, Maddox won’t… He’ll leave you alone… right?

Hurd noticed he was trying to convince himself more than her. As always, he had the knack of acting more insecure when he needed to be more confident. He came close to hug her.

- Listen, what I was sayin’ before… I meant it. But things have changed. I ain’t no martyr, I wanted to help fixin’ all this. Now it’d be pointless. I guess this ain’t the time for my way of dealin’ with things.

Hurd glanced at her eyes once more. He had an eerie feeling, as if this was the end of something.

- It's all gonna be OK, trust me. I'll be back soon.

He turned and headed outside.

-But this ain´t about Harvey Stenbaugh!, Laura cried. She wanted to speak her mind, say the words, maybe…

-I'm talking about you, Hurd. I don't care about Harvey Stenbaugh. He doesn't make any difference. You hated him. You were frightened of him, and he never cared about anything unless it had the Bronson name to it. You are a nobody, just a little nobody to them.

Laura followed Hurd outside. As she watched him get on his horse, she knew he had made his mind. –You better come back, Hurd. Back to West Shelby… I hate the cold waiting, and I … Just be careful, would ya?

Laura´s last words stuck in Hurd´s head as he rode out of the farm to the surrounding high lands. He knew the route to the crossing to catch up with Vern by heart.

Vern had decided to flee. Others were gathering at the Bronson ranch. Nobody would go to surrender it seemed.

The way Laura had looked at him. Her face sometimes was saying: “you´re not much, Hurd Price. No, not a man, like all the men…”

Hurd swallowed. She was a good woman, maybe she deserved better. Maybe she could have done better than Hurd, but yet she had chosen him.

Suddenly, an echo of a gunshot brought his attention back. It had come from the direction he was heading to. He kept riding, and then he saw band of vultures in the sky, flying in circles.

A little nobody to them.

Laura had these moments when she talked to Hurd like he didn’t understand. He might as well be a little nobody, but he was no fool. And there were also things she didn’t seem to understand.

She didn’t seem to understand that their way of life had no future without a Mr. Bronson to make it possible. They needed him. Sabbath needed him. Hurd might transform a piece of land into a farm and a home. Vincent Bronson was the only man that could transform Sabbath into a civilized town. A big city, a place where a peaceful, honest life made sense.

She didn’t seem to understand that sometimes the shadow of a powerful man is the only place where an honest man can have a chance.

Hurd might not be the most popular among the Bronson gang, but he had a sense of belonging when he was with them. He felt something was being built there, and he was somehow part of it. Maybe that was one of those things a woman just couldn’t understand. Hurd’s father had not been the wisest guy, but he remembered something the old man used to say: “women live in today, men live in tomorrow”.

The gunshot gave him a start. It took a moment for him to react, looking ahead, trying to distinguish something. Then he thought of Vern. He spurred Lucky. As he approached the place the vultures were flying over, he slowed the pace a bit and drew his gun.

As Hurd approached on horseback, it became clear that something had happened close to the meeting place at the crossroads. Soon enough, he saw a dead horse on the ground. He had no doubt, it was Vern´s mount. And his kit was still on animal.

Hurd unmounted quickly, grabbing his LC Smith shot gun. He needed to have a better look of what had occurred. He could not see anyone else around.