Chapter One The Returning Cavalryman

He made a small fire in the ruins and sat beside it, reading his father's journal. The red rocks on the map lay north in empty country, beyond the dry river, Wolf Valley, and the old Comanche boundary. There were no towns there, no churches, no army posts, and no storekeeper willing to extend credit. He had seven dollars and thirty-five cents. Food for two days. Twenty-nine cartridges. The old horse would not last long either. Any reasonable man would ride to Hope Town, look for work, hire a lawyer, find a relative, or leave Texas and take a new name. Jack watched the fire. Reasonable men would not save the Walkers. He tucked the journal inside his coat, checked the Colt, and pressed a cartridge into each chamber.