"You men go eat," Call said to the Irishmen; having rescued them, he could do no less than feed them.

Allen O'Brien was looking dejectedly at the few buildings that made up Lonesome Dove. "Is this all there is to the town?" he asked.

"Yes, and it's worse than it looks," Augustus said.

To the embarrassment of everyone, Sean O'Brien began to cry. It had been an extremely tense night, and he hadn't expected to survive it. All during the ride he had expected to fall off his horse and become paralyzed. He associated paralysis with falls because a cousin of his had fallen off a cottage he was thatching and had been paralyzed ever since. The horse Sean had been given seemed to him at least as tall as a cottage, and he felt he had good reason to worry. He had spent a long boat ride growing more and more homesick for the green land he had left. When they were put ashore at Vera Cruz he had not been too disappointed; it was only Mexico they were in, and no one had ever told him Mexico was green.

But now they were in America, and all he could see was dust and low bushes with thorns, and almost no grass at all. He had expected coolness and dew and green grass on which to stretch out for a long nap. The bare hot yard was a cruel letdown, and besides, Sean was an easy weeper. Tears ran out of his eyes whenever he thought of anything sad.

His brother Allen was so embarrassed by the sight of Sean's tears that he walked straight into the house and sat down at the table. They had been asked to eat-if Sean preferred to stand in the yard crying, that was his problem.

Dish concluded that the young Irishman was probably crazy. Only someone crazy would break out crying in front of several grown men.

Augustus saved the day by going over and taking Sean by the arm. He spoke kindly to him and led him toward the house. "Let's go eat, son," he said. "It won't look quite so ugly on a full stomach."

"But where's the grass?" Sean asked, snuffling.

Dish Boggett let out a whoop. "I guess he was meaning to graze," he said.

"Why, no, Dish," Augustus said. "He was just reared in a place where the grass covers the ground-not in no desert, like you."

"I was reared on the Matagorda," Dish said. "We got grass knee high over there."

"Gus, we need to talk a minute," Call said.

But Augustus had already led the boy through the door, and Call had to follow him in.

A surprised Bolivar watched the Irishmen put away sowbelly and beans. He was so startled by their appearance that he picked up a shotgun that he kept by the cookstove and put it across his lap. It was his goat-gun, a rusty.10 gauge, and he liked to have it handy if anything unusual happened.

"I hope you don't decide to shoot that thing off in here," Augustus said. "It'd take a wall out if you did-not to mention us."

"I don't shoot yet," Bol said sullenly, keeping his options open.

Call waited until Augustus filled his plate, since there would be no getting his attention until he had food before him. The young Irish boy had stopped crying and was putting away beans faster even than Augustus-starvation was probably all that was wrong with him.

"I'm going to go see if I can hire some hands," Call said. "You better move them horses this afternoon."

"Move 'em where?" Augustus asked.

"Upriver, as far as you want," Call said.

"These Irishmen have fine voices," Augustus remarked. "It's a pity there ain't two more of 'em-we'd have a barbershop quartet."

"It would be a pity if you lost them horses while I'm off hiring the hands, too," Call pointed out.

"Oh, you mean you want me to sleep out on the ground for several nights just to keep Pedro from stealing these horses back?" Gus asked. "I'm out of practice sleeping on the ground."

"What was you planning to sleep on on the way to Montana?" Call asked in turn. "We can't take the house with us, and there ain't many hotels between here and there."

"I hadn't been planning on going to Montana," Augustus said. "That's your plan. I may come if I feel like it. Or you may change your mind. I know you never have changed your mind about anything yet, but there's a first time for everything."

"You'd argue with a stump," Call said. "Just watch them horses. We may never get that lucky again."

Call saw there was no point in losing any more time. If Augustus was not of a mind to be serious, nothing could move him.

"Jake did come back, didn't he?" Augustus asked.

"His horse is here," Call said. "I guess he probably come with it. Do you think he'll work, once we start?"

"No, and I won't, either," Augustus said. "You better hire these Irish boys while you got the chance."

"It's work we're looking for," Allen said. "What we don't know we'll gladly learn."

Call refrained from comment. Men who didn't know how to get on and off a horse would not be much use around a cow outfit.

"Where you goin' hiring?" Augustus asked.

"I might go to the Raineys'," Call said. "As many boys as they got they ought to be able to spare a few."

"I sparked Maude Rainey once upon a time," Augustus said, tilting back his chair. "If we hadn't had the Comanches to worry with, I expect I'd have married her. Her name was Grove before she married. She lays them boys like hens lay eggs, don't she?"

Call left, to keep from having to talk all day. Deets was catching a short nap on the back porch, but he sat up when Call came out. Dish Boggett and the boy were roping low bushes, Dish teaching the boy a thing or two about the craft of roping. That was good, since nobody around the Hat Creek outfit could rope well enough to teach him anything. Call himself could rope in an emergency, and so could Pea, but neither of them were ropers of the first class.

"Practice up, boys," he said. "As soon as we gather some cattle there's gonna be a pile of roping to do."

Then he caught his second-best horse, a sorrel gelding they called Sunup, and headed northeast toward the brush country.

13.

LORENA HAD STOPPED expecting ever to be surprised, least of all by a man, and then Jake Spoon walked in the door and surprised her. The surprise started the minute before he even spoke to her. Partly it was that he seemed to know her the minute he saw her.

She had been sitting at a table expecting Dish Boggett to come back with another two dollars he had borrowed somewhere. It was an expectation that brought her no pleasure. It was clear Dish expected something altogether different from what the two dollars would buy him. That was why, in general, she preferred older men to young ones. The older ones were more likely to be content with what they paid for; the young ones almost always got in love with her, and expected it to make a difference. It got so she never said a word to the young men, thinking that the less she said the less they would expect. Of course they went right on expecting, but at least it saved her having to talk. She could tell Dish Boggett was going to pester her as long as he could afford to, and when she heard boot heels and the jingle of spurs on the porch she assumed it was him, coming back for a second round.

Instead, Jake had walked in. Lippy gave a whoop, and Xavier was excited enough that he came out from behind the bar and shook Jake's hand. Jake was polite and glad to see them, and took the trouble to ask their health and make a few jokes, but even before he had drunk the free drink Xavier offered him he had begun to make a difference in the way she felt. He had big muddy brown eyes and a neat mustache that turned down at the corners, but of course she had seen big eyes and mustaches before. What made the difference was that Jake Was so at home and relaxed even after he saw her sitting there. Most men got nervous when they saw her, aware that their wives wouldn't like them being in the same room with her, or else made nervous by the thought of what they wanted from her, which they couldn't get without some awkward formalities of a sort that few of them could handle smoothly.