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When he does, he will hire only old men, ugly hombres like me, or young gringos like Red.” He winked and nodded his head in the direction of the house.
    Trinity smiled in understanding. “Too young or too old.”
    “Buc means to marry Senorita Davidge.”
    “He already told me.”
    “Nothing wrong in that,” Red piped up. “A man would have to be crazy out of his mind not to want to marry Miss Victoria.”
    Trinity’s gaze appraised the young man. Earnest. Idealistic. Temper probably as hot as his hair. He might be able to get a few more answers if he prodded the boy a little.
    “I got to admit Victoria’s a fine-looking young woman, but I don’t think I’d like to be married to her.”
    “She’s Miss Victoria to the likes of you,” Red snapped. “And you’d jump at the chance to marry her.”
    “Naw. I don’t think I could lie comfortable in my bed married to a woman who killed her husband.”
    The words were hardly out of Trinity’s mouth before Red had covered the space that separated their bunks, his drawn gun inches from the bridge of Trinity’s nose.
    “Take that back, or I’ll kill you where you sit,” he said, his young voice no more than a harsh growl.
    Trinity never expected anything like that. The boy was like lightning. Trinity doubted he was as fast.
    “Easy, Red,” Perez cautioned. “No call to get upset. He is an outsider. You cannot expect him to know the senorita like we do.”
    “He’s got to take it back,” Red said, too angry to be swayed by reason or caution. “Nobody’s going to say Miss Victoria’s a murderer. The boys will kill to protect her. You’ll be expected to do the same thing.”
    “But if she killed that man …”
    “She didn’t kill nobody.”
    The words sounded like those of a youth in passionate defense of an idealized love.
    That pure, sweet girl could not kill her husband,” Perez said. “Anybody can see that just looking at her. Judge Blazer paid the jury to convict her. He did not even let Mr. Davidge bring a lawyer or make an investigation.”
    They had a trial.”
    There was no trial” Perez told Trinity. The judge already decide everything. He have to hang somebody, so he choose Senorita Davidge. He say they find her with a gun in her hand.”
    “But if she held the gun …”
    “She didn’t fire it,” Red insisted. “Somebody else killed Jeb Blazer, and Miss Victoria got blamed for it.”
    Trinity let the old Mexican tell him every detail of the efforts Grant made to postpone the trial, of the people he contacted, the conflicting evidence he turned up about that night. But like everyone else, Perez ignored the fact that Victoria was found holding the gun with nobody else around. To him, Victoria was innocent. Period.
    Just like with Red.
    Trinity had to admit it was difficult for him to see Victoria in the role of a killer, but not for the same reason. He didn’t see her as a weak, helpless woman afraid of her husband or of a gun. Killers were usually timid people who saw murder as the only way out of an unbearable situation, people so greedy for power or money they would do anything to get more, or cruel, heartless brutes who killed because of their contempt for human life.
    Victoria didn’t seem to fit into any of those categories, but Trinity reminded himself he knew nothing about her except she grew beautiful flowers and baked a marvelous pecan pie. No telling what she had been like five years ago. A girl could change a lot between seventeen and twenty-two. Still, it didn’t fit.
    “I didn’t know all of that,” Trinity said. “Her uncle said they had plans to hang her, had the scaffold all ready. I just figured the jury must have found her guilty.”
    “They paid them to lie,” Red said, the gun barrel now pressed against the skin between Trinity’s eyes. “Now take it back.”
    “You better,” the old man advised.
    “I was just repeating what I’d heard,” Trinity said. “I didn’t even know Miss Victoria until