Larry McMurtry - Lonesome Dove

"She had another boy, Joe," July said. "He went with me when I went after Jake Spoon. Only Joe got killed on the plains. Ellie don't know it yet."

"Did you say Jake Spoon?" Clara said. "I know Jake. We courted once. I saw him in Ogallala about a year ago but the woman he was with didn't like my looks so we didn't talk much. Why were you after Jake?"

July could barely remember it all, it seemed to have happened so long ago.

"Jake was gambling and a fight got started," he said. "Jake shot off a buffalo gun and the bullet went through the wall and killed my brother. I was out of town at the time. Peach, my sister-in-law, wanted me to go after Jake. I wish now I hadn't."

"It sounds accidental to me," Clara said. "Though I know that's no consolation to your family. Jake was no killer."

"Well, I didn't catch him anyway," July said. "Elmira ran off and Roscoe come and told me. Now Roscoe's dead too. I don't guess it could be my baby."

Clara was still studying the two faces, the little one and the gaunt, tired one. It interested her, what came across from parent to child.

"When did your wife run off?" she asked.

"Oh, it's been over four months," July said. "A long time."

Clara chuckled. "Mr. Johnson, I don't think arithmetic's your strong suit," she said. "I think this is young Mr. Johnson you're looking at. I had that figured out, even without the dates, but the dates jibe pretty well."

July didn't know what to say. Clara seemed delighted with her Conclusion, but he didn't feel anything at all. It was just a puzzle.

"I guess I'm awful," Clara said. "Any kind of company affects me this way. I shouldn't be bothering you when you're so tired. The girls are drawing water. You have a bath. You can sleep in their room-it's a good bed."

Later, when he had bathed and fallen into a sleep so deep that he didn't even turn over for several hours, Clara brought the baby in and peeked at July. He hadn't shaved, but at least he had washed. Cleaned of dirt he looked very young, only a few years older than her oldest boy would have been had he lived.

Then she went to look at Bob for a moment-an ugly ooze had been seeping onto his pillow. The stitches in his head had been removed but underneath the wound seemed hot. It might be a new infection. Clara cleaned it as best she could, and took the baby out on her little porch.

"Well, Martin, your pa showed up," she said, grinning at the baby. "It's a good thing we got a house right on the road. I wonder what your pa will think of us when he gets his wits together."

The baby waved a hand in the warm air. Down at the lots, the girls were watching Cholo work with a two-year-old filly.

Clara looked at the baby and offered it her finger. "We don't much care what your pa thinks of us, do we, Martin?" she said. "We already know what we think of him."

LORENA WAS SITTING in her tent when Gus returned. She had been sitting there hoping he wasn't dead. It was an unreasoning fear she had, that Gus might die. He had only been gone three days, but it seemed longer to her. The cowboys didn't bother her, but she was uneasy anyway. Dish Boggett set up her tent at night and stayed close by, but it meant nothing to her. Gus was the only man she wanted to look after her.

Then, before it was quite dark, she heard horses and looked out to see Gus riding toward her. She was so glad she wanted to run out to him, but Dish Boggett was nearby, trimming his horse's feet, so she kept still.

"She's just fine, Gus," Dish said, when Gus dismounted. "I looked after her as best I could."

"I'm much obliged," Augustus said.

"She won't hardly even look at me," Dish said. He said it mildly, but he didn't feel it mildly. Lorena's indifference pained him more than anything he had ever experienced.

"Did you catch the horsethieves?" he asked.

"We did, but not before they murdered Wilbarger and four other people," Augustus said.

"Hang 'em?"

"Yes, hung them all, including Jake Spoon."

"Well, I'll swear," Dish said, shocked. "I didn't like the man but I never figured him for a killer."

"He wasn't a killer," Augustus said. "Jake liked a joke and didn't like to work. I've got exactly the same failings. It's lucky I ain't been hung."

He pulled the saddle off his tired horse. The horse lay down and had a good roll, scratching its sweaty back.

"Howdy do, miss," Augustus said, opening the tent. "Give me a hug."

Lorena did. It made her blush that he just asked, like that.

"If hugs are to be had for the asking, what about kisses?" Augustus asked.

Lorena turned her face up-the feel of his whiskers made her want to cry, and she held him as tight as she could.

"I wish we'd brought a bathtub on this trip," Augustus said, grinning. "I'm so dirty it's like kissing a groundhog."

Later, he went to the chuck wagon and brought back some supper. They ate outside the tent. In the distance the Irishman was singing. Gus told her about Jake, but Lorena felt little. Jake hadn't come to find her. For days she had hoped he would, but when he didn't, and her hope died, the memory of Jake died with it. When she listened to Gus talk about him it was as if he were talking about a man she hadn't known. She had a stronger memory of Xavier Wanz. Some- times she dreamed of Xavier, standing with his dishrag in the Dry Bean. She remembered how he had cried the morning she left, how he'd offered to take her to Galveston.

But she didn't remember Jake particularly. He had faded into all the other men who had come and gone. He had got a thorn in his hand, she remembered that, but she didn't remember much else. She didn't much care that he was dead-he wasn't a good man, like Gus.

What scared her was all the death. Now that she had found Gus, it was very frightening to her to think that he might die. She didn't want to be without him. Yet that very night she dreamed that he had died and she couldn't find the body. When she came out of the dream and heard him breathing, she clung so tightly to him that he woke up. It was very hot and her clinging made them sweaty.

"What scared you?" Augustus asked.

"I dreamed you died," Lorena said. "I'm sorry I woke you."

Augustus sat up. "Don't fret," he said. "I need to go water the grass, anyway."

He went out, made water, and stood in the moonlight awhile, cooling off. There was no breeze in the tent, so Lorena came out too.

"It's a good thing this grass don't depend on me," Augustus said. "There's a lot more of it than I can get watered."

They were on a plain of grass so huge that it was hard to imagine there was a world beyond it. The herd, and themselves, were like a dot, surrounded by endless grass. Lorena had come to like the space-it was a relief after her years of being crowded in a little saloon.

Gus was staring at the moon and scratching himself. "I keep thinking we'll see the mountains," he said. "I grew up in mountains, you know. Tennessee. I hear them Rockies are a lot higher than the Smokies. They say they have snow on top of them the year round, which you won't find in Tennessee."

He sat down in the grass. "Let's sit out," he said. "We can nap in the morning. It will scandalize Call."

"Why does he go off at night?" Lorena asked.

"He goes off to be by himself," Augustus said. "Woodrow ain't a sociable man."

Lorena remembered her other worry, the woman in Nebraska. "When will we get there, Gus?" she asked. "Nebraska, I mean."

"I ain't sure," he said. "Nebraska's north of the Republican River, which we ain't come to yet. It might take us three weeks yet."

Lorena felt a dread she couldn't get rid of. She might lose him to the woman. The strange trembling started-it was beyond her control. Gus put his arms around her to make it stop.

"Well, it's natural to worry," he said. "This is a chancy life. What's the main thing that worries you?"