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and people liked to talk about how the turn of the century would mark the beginning of a new, kinder and gentler era, The Kid knew that was a bunch of bullshit. Life was still harsh and dangerous, especially out here on the frontier, and that wasn’t likely to change any time soon. In many ways, so-called civilization just meant surrendering to the wolves and hoping that they wouldn’t devour you. That never worked.
    As his father had once told him, “The meek aren’t going to inherit anything west of the Mississippi.”
    “Maybe you should start by learning how to shoot a rifle,” The Kid told Cyrus. “Have you ever used one before?”
    “Nope. Ma says I’m too little.”
    “What’s your pa say?”
    “Whatever Ma says.” Cyrus grinned. “Whenever she’s around, anyway.”
    The Kid chuckled. “I’ll have a talk with him. Can’t hurt.”
    “Thanks, Mr. Morgan! I really would like to learn how to draw and shoot a handgun like you, though.”
    “I hope you never have to,” The Kid said softly as he watched the half-wild horse trotting around the corral, trying to avoid the vaquero.
    That evening, when Sean Williams went outside to have a last look around the place after supper, The Kid followed him. The Kid didn’t take the wolf’s-head cane with him since he didn’t need it anymore. He felt a little twinge of pain in his leg from time to time, but the wound had healed and his leg was strong again.
    “Cyrus told me he wants to learn how to shoot,” The Kid said as he and Sean walked toward the corral. An arch of reddish-gold in the western sky marked the place where the sun had set.
    Sean glanced over at him. “I intend on getting around to teaching him one of these days.”
    “I figured as much. The thing is, he wants to learn how to shoot like I do.”
    A frown creased Sean’s forehead. “No offense, Mr. Morgan…you know how much we appreciate what you did for us…but I’m not sure I’d ever want Cyrus learning how to be a, well, a…”
    “Gunfighter,” The Kid finished for him as Sean’s voice trailed off.
    “To be honest, yes. I thought your name sounded familiar, so I asked the hands if any of them had ever heard of you. Pablo said he thought you were the man who killed Jack Trace over in New Mexico Territory a while back.”
    The Kid nodded slowly. “That was me, all right. Didn’t have much choice in the matter.”
    “I never said you did. But I know how trouble seems to follow a man like you.”
    “Not always. Sometimes I walk into it,” The Kid said pointedly.
    Sean grimaced. “I know, what I’m saying sounds bad. Sounds like we’re not obliged to you for saving our lives—”
    The Kid raised a hand to stop him. “One thing doesn’t have anything to do with the other. I saved your lives, but you and your wife saved mine. We’re even on that score.”
    “You wouldn’t have gotten hurt if not for us.”
    The Kid shook his head. “I already had this conversation with Mrs. Williams. Look, Sean, don’t worry about it. I don’t want to teach Cyrus how to be a gunfighter, either. In fact, I’m thinking it might be a good idea for me to pull out early in the morning, before he gets up.”
    “He’d be really disappointed if he didn’t get a chance to say good-bye to you.”
    “And that might not be such a bad thing,” The Kid said.

Chapter 6

    This part of Arizona Territory, not far from the Mexican border, could be blistering hot during the day, but at night the dry air cooled quickly and by morning, there was often a little chill lurking around the edges of dawn.
    That was the way it was the next morning when The Kid slipped out of the house and went to the barn while the sky was still just gray in the east. His breath even fogged a little in front of his face.
    Sean and Frannie would be glad to get their bed back, he thought. They had put a corn-shuck mattress on the floor next to Cyrus’s bed in the part of the room where the boy slept, that was closed off by a