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daddy’s eye, that girl is. She can do nothin’ wrong. And Jeff don’t believe it, neither. We’ve all seen where she meets that little punk; tracks don’t lie. She’s got herself a paint pony that can damn near fly. She holds the reins in her right hand; she’s left-handed. You’re a tracker, Matt, you know that causes the pony to throw its gait peculiar. We’ve all trailed her to their meetin’ place over near a grove of cottonwoods by a crick. And they don’t hold hands and look tenderlike into each other’s eyes, neither. They get right down to business like married folks with the lamp out. Disgustin’.”
    â€œShe’s a no-count whoor is what she is,” Tate said. “Sellin’ her daddy out. She ought to have a buggy whip taken to her backside.”
    As the brothers walked toward the big house, Sam said, “This Cindy throws a kink into matters.”
    â€œSure does. Business plans are sure to come up at the table, and if the boys are right in their thinking, she’s sure to report what is said to Nick.”
    â€œWant to see if we can’t cut her trail in the morning?”
    â€œYou’re reading my mind, brother.”
    Ed and Nettie Carson were good people trying to live decently in the face of hard times. Their son, Noah, was a good-natured young man with a fast grin and a sense of humor. He and Gene Sparks shared a lot in common. Cindy was quite another story. She was a pretty but pouty thing with too much rouge on her cheeks and a smart-aleck mouth. Neither Matt nor Sam trusted her any farther than line of sight.
    â€œI never sat down at the table with no Injun before,” Cindy said, glaring at Sam.
    â€œI shall endeavor to master the complicated art of eating with knife and fork, miss,” Sam said. “However, don’t be alarmed if my savage heritage soon overcomes genteel manners and I begin to eat with my fingers.”
    Gene and Noah busted out laughing.
    Cindy glared hatred at Sam.
    No points gained there, Matt thought.
    â€œSo you’re the famous gunfighter,” Cindy said, directing her venom toward Matt. “You’d better watch your step around these parts. There are men around here who’ll take those guns away from you and feed them to you.”
    â€œCindy!” her mother said, giving her a look that should have shut the brat’s mouth immediately.
    It didn’t. But before she could spew any more poison, Matt said, “There are men who have tried that,” as he spooned mashed potatoes on his plate and covered them with chicken gravy. “I’m still here and they’re cold in the ground. Now why don’t we move the subject to something more appropriate for the dinner table?”
    â€œI agree,” Nettie said, looking at her daughter. “Cindy, tuck your napkin in your bodice and fill your mouth with food!”
    Noah grinned and winked at Matt.
    â€œWhat’s the word down at Pecos?” Jeff asked the boys.
    â€œSaw half a dozen hardcases head out, riding this way,” Noah told the man. “Saloon man said one of them was Hart, that Oklahoma gunslinger.”
    â€œThen Kingman won’t be far behind,” Matt said. “They’re buddies.”
    â€œYou know them?” Ed asked.
    â€œI put lead in Kingman a few years back while I was scouting for the Army.” He was very aware of how attentive Cindy had become. “Hart backed down. Both of them despise me. Did the bartender know any of the others?”
    Noah shook his head. “No. But he said he’d heard that Dan Ringold was comin’ in.”
    â€œThat’s bad news,” Sam said.
    â€œYou know him?” Jeff asked.
    â€œWe both do. He’s poison mean and a back-shooter. Uses a .44-.40 and is a crack shot.”
    â€œThat’s a pretty dress you have on,” Lia said to Cindy, in an attempt to change the subject.
    â€œIt’s