Virgil said nothing.

I said, “Callico, we all know that this is about looking like the man in charge at the battle of Appaloosa.”

“You’re planning to interfere?” Callico said.

“We are,” I said.

“All three of you?”

“Four,” Pony said.

Callico nodded forcefully.

“We’ll discuss this again,” he said.

“No,” Virgil said. “We won’t.”

The sound of hammers and saws filled the street. A big freight wagon hulked past, stacked with partially burned lumber, the massive draft horses leaning hard into their harness. Callico turned sharply, jerked his head at his policemen, and walked back down Main Street. We watched them go. Pony looked at Virgil and smiled.

“ ‘Virg’?” he said.

“My mother didn’t even call me that,” Virgil said.

“What did she call you?” I said.

“Don’t remember,” Virgil said.

WE WENT back down First Street toward Virgil’s house. When we got there, Allie was on the front porch. Laurel slid off the back of Pony’s horse and ran to her. Pony stayed on the horse.

“My child is home safe,” Allie crooned. “My child is home.”

“Don’t think she’s staying, Allie,” Virgil said.

He was standing on the first step of the porch, next to Laurel.

“What,” Allie said. “What.”

Virgil said, “You stayin’, Laurel?”

She shook her head.

“You going away?” Virgil said.

She nodded.

“With who?” Virgil said.

Laurel pointed at Pony.

“You can say his name,” Virgil said.

Laurel stared at Virgil.

“You can,” Virgil said.

She stared some more. Virgil leaned forward and whispered in her ear. She nodded. He whispered again. She shook her head. He whispered again. She was motionless. Then she looked at Pony. And at me and Allie, and obliquely at Chauncey Teagarden. She looked back at Virgil and then at Pony again.

“Pony,” she whispered.

I saw Allie’s eyes widen. Her mouth opened. But something stopped her before she spoke.

“You want that, Pony?” Virgil said.

Pony was turned sideways in his saddle. His right foot was in the stirrup, and his left knee hooked over the saddle. He was rolling a cigarette.

“Sí,” Pony said, and lit the cigarette.

“Got some money left from Brimstone,” Virgil said. “I’ll get you some.”

Pony shook his head.

“Good way to start, Jefe,” he said. “Each other, nothing else.”

Virgil nodded.

“Buy her a horse,” he said.

Pony smiled.

“I get her horse, Jefe.”

Virgil nodded slowly.

“Kinda what I was afraid of,” he said.

Pony looked at me and put out his hand.

“Everett,” he said.

“Pony.”

He looked at Teagarden.

“Gracias,” he said.

Teagarden shook his hand.

“On down the road,” he said.

Pony nodded. He looked at Allie.

“Señorita,” he said.

She was holding her apron up to her face.

Virgil stood in front of Laurel with his hands at his sides.

“Wherever you go. Whatever happens. You got some people here who love you.”

She nodded. Then put her arms around Virgil and buried her face in his neck and cried. He put his arms around her and stood expressionless, holding her comfortably until she was through.

She stepped away from him and looked at Pony.

“Chiquita,” he said, and put out his hand.

She swung up behind him. He turned the horse and kicked him into a trot and they left. All of us watched as they rode off. Allie sniffled loudly.

“Nice ceremony,” Teagarden said.

EMMA SCARLET wore a red wig for business, but since we were more friends than anything else, and since this morning we had finished our business already, she left the wig on its holder while we drank coffee in her room.

“So, the girl ran off with the half-breed,” Emma said.

“Laurel,” I said. “With Pony Flores.”

“Love,” Emma said.

“I guess.”

We drank some coffee.

“I think Allie was a little upset,” I said.

“You do,” Emma said.

“Think she was planning on some fine eastern gentleman,” I said.

“For crissake, Everett, Laurel didn’t even talk.”

“’Cept to Virgil,” I said. “And ’fore she left she said Pony’s name out loud.”

“Golly,” Emma said.

“She might have been losing her baby, but she’d only had a baby for a couple years.”

“And maybe she didn’t mind,” Emma said.

“No?” I said.

“Maybe she didn’t like the competition,” Emma said.

“Competition with who?” I said.

“Laurel,” Emma said.

“For?”

“Virgil,” Emma said.

“Virgil wouldn’t lay a hand on Laurel,” I said.

“Don’t matter what Virgil would do,” Emma said. “It’s what Allie fears that matters.”

“You think Allie was afraid Virgil would run off with Laurel?” I said.

“’Course she was,” Emma said.

“I don’t see that,” I said. “I known them since they been together. Virgil never run off on her.”

“She ever run out on him?” Emma said.

“She did,” I said.

Emma was still naked from our time of business, and as she talked she leaned back and looked at her extended leg.

“Where’d she end up?”

“Pig wallow in Placido,” I said. “On the Rio Grande.”

“How’d she get out of there?”

“Me and Virgil found her, took her out,” I said.

“And if you hadn’t?”

“She’d a died,” I said.

“So, he owes her leavin’,” Emma said.

“More than one,” I said.

“And if it weren’t for him she’d be fucking her life away in some dump down by Mexico.”

“So, she’d be worried about anybody,” I said.

“Especially a young girl starting to come of age that speaks only to Virgil?”

I nodded and drank some coffee.

“Hadn’t thought of it that way,” I said.

“’Course you hadn’t,” Emma said. “She’s a woman.” She waved her naked leg around. “You only think of her this way.”

“You don’t seem to mind,” I said.

She shrugged and pointed her toes.

“Not with you,” she said.

SOMEONE HAD SET UP a steam saw at the corner of Main and Second Street, and you could hear it eighteen hours a day, every day, all over town. It was like the base melody for an orchestra of hand tools: hammers, chisels, mallets, and handsaws hovering in lighter cadence. The raucous language of the laborers formed a vocalization.

Several saloons had set up tents with plank-and-barrel bars, and enough people got drunk to keep me and Virgil in business from our headquarters on what was left of the Boston House’s front porch.

Virgil was looking at it all.

“We had this many government folks before,” Virgil said, “Kah-to-nay wouldn’t have attacked.”

“And Callico has kissed the ass of every one of them since,” I said.

“The hero of the recovery,” Virgil said.

“Lot people will remember him for it, and be grateful,” I said. “He knows a lot of people. He’s brought in lot of money for rebuilding.”

“The savior of Appaloosa,” Virgil said.

“Been better if he never lost it in the first place,” I said.

“Would,” Virgil said.

A big lumber wagon pulled by eight oxen drudged up Main Street past us toward the steam saw with a load of logs.

“When they get that cut up,” I said, “think they’ll cure it proper?”

“Nope.”

I smiled.

“Be good not to buy a new building in town for a few years,” I said. “Let it dry out.”

A handsome two-bench buggy went by in the other direction, pulled by two gray horses. A driver sat on the front seat, and in back was General Laird, with Chauncey Teagarden beside him. Chauncey was wearing a black jacket with conchos, and his ivory handle gleamed in contrast.

“Chauncey’s looking good,” I said.

“He is good,” Virgil said.