The small herd had already been penned, and he and Deets and the man called Chick were quietly separating out horses with the H I C brand on them. Dish Boggett worked the gate between the two corrals, letting Wilbarger’s horses run through and waving his rope in the face of those he didn’t claim. Jake Spoon was nowhere in sight, nor was there any sign of Augustus and the Irishmen. The new herd was far too large to pen. Call had always meant to fence a holding pasture for just such an eventuality, but he had never gotten around to it. In the immediate case it didn’t matter greatly; the horses were tired from their long run and could be left to graze and rest. After breakfast he would send the boy out to watch them. Wilbarger paused from his work a moment to look at the stream of horses trotting past, then went back to his cutting, which was almost done. Since there was already enough help in the pen, there was nothing fo

“Where’s Call?” Jake asked when he got to the porch. “You didn’t expect to find Woodrow Call sitting in the shade, did you?” Augustus asked. “That man was born to work.” “Yes, and you was born to talk too much,” Jake said. “I need to borrow ten dollars.” “Oh?” Augustus said. “Has Lorie upped her rates?” Jake ignored the question, which was only meant to rile him, and reached for the jug. “No, the girl’s as generous as a preacher’s widow,” Jake said. “She wouldn’t take money from a gentleman like me. I hope she charged you plenty, though, for I know you’ve been there before me.” “I’ve always tried to keep a step ahead of you, Jake,” Augustus said. “But to answer your question, Call’s gone to round up a dern bunch of cowboys so we can head out for Montana with a dern bunch of cows and suffer for the rest of our lives.” “Well, dern,” Jake said. “I admit I was a fool to mention it.” He settled himself on the

 BY THE TIME Jake Spoon had been in Lonesome Dove ten days, Lorena knew she had a job to do—namely the job ofholding him to his word and making sure he took her to San Francisco as he had promised to do.Of course Jake had not given her any direct notice that he intended to do differently. He moved in with her immediatelyand was just as pleasant about everything as he had been the first day. He had not taken a cent of money from her, andthey seldom passed an hour together without him complimenting her in some way—usually on her voice, or her looks, orthe fine texture of her hair, or some delicacy of manner. He had a way of appearing always mildly surprised by her graces,and if anything his sentiments only grew warmer as they got to know one another better. He repeated several times hisdismay at her having been stuck for so long in a dismal hole like Lonesome Dove.But after a week, Lorena became a

NEWT’S MIND had begun to dwell on the north for long stretches. Particularly at night, when he had nothing to do butride slowly around and around the herd, listening to the small noises the bedded cattle made, or the sad singing of theIrishmen, he thought of the north, trying to imagine what it must be like. He had grown up with the sun shining, withmesquite and chaparral, armadillos and coyotes, Mexicans and the shallow Rio Grande. Only once had he been to a city:San Antonio. Deets had taken him on one of his banking trips, and Newt had been in a daze from all there was to see.Once, too, he had gone with Deets and Pea to deliver a small bunch of horses to Matagorda Bay, and had seen the greatgray ocean. Then, too, he had felt dazed, staring at the world of water.But even the sight of the ocean had not stirred him so much as the thought of the north. All his life he had heard talk ofthe plains that had no end, and of Indian

JAKE AWOKEN long after dawn to find Lorena up before him. She sat at the foot of the bed, her face calm, watching the first red light stretch over the mesquite flats. He would have liked to sleep, to hide in sleep for several days, make no decisions, work no cattle, just drowse. But not even sleep was really under his control. The thought that he had to get up and leave town—with Lorie—was in the front of his mind, and it melted his drowsiness. For a minute or two he luxuriated in the fact that he was sleeping on a mattress. It might be a poor one stuffed with corn shucks, but it was better than he would get for the next several months. For months it would just be the ground, with whatever weather they happened to catch. He looked at Lorie for a minute, thinking that perhaps if he scared her with Indian stories she would change her mind. But when he raised up on one elbow to look at her in the fresh light, the urge to discourage her went away. It was a weakness, but he could not bea