Chapter One The Returning Cavalryman

Dusk pressed down over the northwestern Texas plain like a strip of scorched hide. Wind came out of country the railroad had not yet reached, carrying grit, dry grass, and the sour smell of cattle dung. It combed through the mane of a thin old horse. The animal kept its head low, each hoof sinking into cracked hardpan as if it were collecting a debt from the earth. The young man in the saddle did not urge it on. His name was Jack Walker. He was twenty-two years old and wore a faded Union cavalry coat. Powder had burned a dark scar into the right shoulder. Two brass buttons were missing from the chest. The cuffs had been worn pale by weather and war.