The Andre Norton Megapack - 15 Classic Novels and Short Stories

way?”
    “General Buford gave him strict orders personally—”
    “Nice to have a general take an interest in you,” Kirby commented. “You Kaintuck boys, you’re scattered all through this heah army. Want to stay with Boyd ’cause he’s ailin’, so you jus’ find you a general from your home state an’ talk yourself into a transfer—”
    “Notice you wanted me to talk you into one, too.”
    “Well, Missouri, Mississippi, an’ Tennessee are a sight nearer Texas an’ home than Virginia. Anyway, theah warn’t much left of our old outfit, an’ this heah Forrest is headin’ up a sassy bunch. So I’m glad you did find you a general to sling some weight an’ git us into his scouts jus’ ’cause he knew your grandpappy. Kaintucks stick together.…”
    There was a second of silence through which they could both hear the faint sounds of life from the stockade.
    “M’ father was a Texan,” Drew said suddenly.
    “Now that’s a right interestin’ observation,” Kirby remarked. “Heah I was all the time thinkin’ you was one of these heah fast-ridin’, fine-livin’ gentlemen what was givin’ some tone to the army. Not jus’ ’nother range drifter from the big spaces. What part of Texas you from—Brazos?”
    “Oh, I wasn’t born there. You had a war down that way, remember?”
    “You mean when Santa Anna came trottin’ in with his tail high, thinkin’ as how he could talk harsh to some of us Tejanos?”
    “No, later than that—when some of us went down to talk harsh in Mexico.”
    “Sure. Only I don’t recollect that theah powder-burnin’ contest, m’self. M’pa went…got him these heah fancy hoss ticklers theah.” Kirby moved his hand toward the spurs he had taken off and tucked into his shirt for safekeeping to muffle the jingle while they were on scout. “Took ’em away from a Mex officer, personal. Me, I was too young to draw fightin’ wages in that theah dust-up.”
    “My father wasn’t too young, and he drew his wages permanent. My grandfather went down to Texas and brought my mother back to Kentucky just in time for me to appear. My grandfather didn’t like Texans.”
    “An’ maybe not your father, special?”
    Drew smiled, this time mirthlessly. “Just so. You see, m’ father came up from Texas to get his schoolin’ in Kentucky. He was studyin’ to be a doctor at Lexington. And he was pretty young and kind of wild. He had one meetin’—”
    “You mean one of them pistol duels?”
    “Yes. So my grandfather warned him off seein’ his daughter. I never heard the rights of it, but it seems m’ father didn’t take kindly to bein’ ordered around.”
    Kirby chuckled. “That theah feelin’ is borned right into a Texas boy. He probably took the gal an’ ran off with her—”
    “You’re guessing right. At least that’s the story as I’ve put it together. Mostly nobody would tell me anything. I was the blacksheep from the day I was born—”
    “But your ma, she’d give you the right of it.”
    “She died when I was born. That’s another thing my grandfather had against me. I was Hunt Rennie’s son, and I killed my mother; that’s the way he saw it.”
    Kirby rolled his head on his arm so that his hazel eyes were on Drew’s thin, too controlled features.
    “Sounds like your grandpappy had a burr under his tail an’ bucked it out on you.”
    “You might see it that way. You know, Anse, I’d like to see Texas—”
    “After we finish up this heah war, compadre, we can jus’ mosey down theah an’ look it over good. Happen you don’t take to Texas, why, theah’s New Mexico, the Arizona territory…clean out to California, wheah they dip up that theah gold dust so free. Ain’t nothin’ sayin’ a man has to stay on one range all his born days—”
    “Looks like the war ain’t doin’ too well.” Drew was watching the activity in the stockade.
    “Well, we lost us Atlanta, sure enough. An’ every time we close up ranks, theah’s empty saddles showin’. But General Forrest, he’s still toughenin’ it out. Me, I’ll trail along with him any day in the week.”
    “Hey!” Kirby was drawing a bead on a shaking bush. But the man edging through was Hew Wilkins, General Buford’s Sergeant of Scouts. He crawled up beside them to peer at the blockhouse.
    “They’re pullin’ out!” The men in blue coats were lining up about a small wagon train.
    Wilkins used binoculars for a closer look. “Your report was right; those are Negro