One hundred and five miles away from the motel, in the county of San Saba, a farmer was awakened by his own series of restless dreams and personal problems. The warm summer night prevented Daniel O'Donnell from sleeping, his mind riddled with worries that were of no concern to anyone but himself. He lied there in bed, watching a spider crawl across the ceiling from one end of the room to the other. The silent household filled him with unease, and he must have felt something was wrong, because no matter how much he tried to ignore it, the thought just wouldn't go away. He made up his mind and threw off the sheets and sat up and got out of bed and slipped on a pair of pants and shoes and walked out to the living room and picked up a flashlight before he walked out of the house and went to the barn.

Daniel opened the door to the barn and shined the light around and looked over at a pair of horses before shining the light over on the chickens, who were nestled safe and sound inside the coop. Nothing wrong with the pig, either. No animals or farming equipment seemed to be missing, except for the cow he sold to the slaughterhouse three days ago. Daniel stood there a moment, then stepped back and closed the door and turned around and walked back to the house and went inside. He walked into the living room and went over to look at the pictures displayed on the mantel over the fireplace. A group of four men. A newlywed couple. A smiling blonde woman sitting in the grass, wearing a summer dress and yellow hat with daisies. Another picture of the same woman, this time with a swollen belly. The woman was shown no more after that. She was never seen or heard from again after giving birth to their daughter seven years ago.

Daniel turned the flashlight off and set it on the mantel, then went down the hall and opened the door on his left to look in on his daughter in her bedroom. She was sleeping peacefully, her right arm wrapped securely around a stuffed white horse. Daniel walked in and bent over to give her a kiss on her forehead, sharing a tender moment with his only child. Suddenly, the phone rang. He went back out to the living room and picked up the phone and put the receiver to his ear.

"Hello?"

"We need to talk."

Two minutes later, Daniel found himself back in his room, opening drawers to look for a clean shirt. He found one and threw it on and started buttoning it up when he heard someone knocking on the wall and turned around to see his daughter standing in the doorway, wearing pink pajamas and clutching onto her stuffed white horse.

"Did I wake you, sweetheart?" Daniel asked her.

His daughter shook her head, meaning no.

"Did you have a bad dream?"

The child set her stuffed animal companion on the floor and made exaggerated gestures with her hands, signing to him, "There was a lady in my room. I think she was an angel."

"Is that so?"

The girl nodded and picked up her horse and said no more.

Daniel went over to his daughter and crouched down to her level to pick her up into his arms and carried her back to her room. He put her back into bed and covered her up to her chest with the blanket and sat on the bed with her and moved a strand of yellow hair away from her eyes that fell over her angelic face. The girl touched her fingertips to her chin and extended her hand out to him, her way of saying Thank you.

"Anything you wanna talk about, Clara?" Daniel asked.

Clara shrugged.

"You got something on your mind, do ya?"

Clara sat up in bed and signed to him, "I keep thinking about the man I saw at the office building today."

"Oh, yeah? What he look like?"

"He was tall, like the giant in the storybook Aunt Lori read to me."

"Can you be more specific on the details?"

"He was pale, wearing dark clothes and a dark blue jacket", Clara answered. "His eyes were brown. So was his hair. He looked angry." The girl furrowed her eyebrows and frowned grumpily to further emphasize her point.

"He say anything to you?" Daniel asked.

Clara shook her head and signed, "He said he used to know someone like me, but not anymore."

"Didn't I warn you about talking to strangers?" Daniel questioned.

"Nothing happened", Clara told him.

"It doesn't matter if nothing happened. I don't want you talking to strange men. What if he tried to kidnap you and I never saw you again? Did you think about that?"

Clara looked sad and signed to her father, "I'm sorry."

"Well, don't let it happen again, okay?"

Clara nodded, then motioned her head to her left. Daniel looked on the nightstand and realized she was indicating to a picture of a lovely-looking blonde woman, whose face greatly resembled her own if she were an adult. A tragic keepsake in the form of a gold butterfly necklace was draped over the framed photograph.

"You thinking about your mama again?" Daniel asked, looking back at his daughter.

"All the time", Clara signed, and then she asked him, "Did Mommy die because of me?"

"No, baby. Your mama's cancer just took its toll on her. You had nothing to do with that."

"Was Mommy beautiful when she was pregnant with me?"

Daniel resorted to using the same method as his daughter and signed to her, "Very beautiful. Your mother was not only beautiful, but she was the bravest and most amazing woman I ever knew."

Clara sighed through her nose and signed, "I wish I could have met her before she went to Heaven."

"I know, honey. But you'll meet her one day, I promise. Just not so soon."

Clara nodded and mouthed the words while signing, "I know", then she used only her hands to finish the rest of her sentence. "I just wanted to say it."

"You said it very nicely. Go back to sleep, now."

"I love you, Daddy", Clara signed.

"I love you, too, songbird", Daniel signed back to her.

Clara smiled and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him. Daniel hugged her back, putting on a brave smile to hide behind the fear and pain he felt in his heart, and not just because of the child's words.

Daniel walked out the front door and stood on the porch, inhaling a taste of the night air and exhaling deeply before he went around to the side of the house where there was an apple tree and crouched down to brush the dirt and foliage away from the headstone that bared his late wife's name. Her name was Taylor O'Donnell. Rather than have her buried in a cemetery, Daniel chose to have her mortal remains buried on the farmland, where they also married. The two of them had planned to have a long life together, but God had other things in mind. Daniel didn't blame Him for giving his wife breast cancer or question why she had to die, though he wished the Lord would have let her stay on Earth a little longer just so she could see their daughter grow up. Though he missed her terribly, Daniel thought it was better this way.

Daniel heard a car approaching and turned his head to see headlights approaching as a car pulled up in front of the house. The vehicle was a white Oldsmobile from six years ago. The owner had been driving it for five years. The farmer stood up straight and turned and went over to the car as the driver turned off the headlights and got out and revealed their identity to him. The driver turned out to be a black woman who looked a few years older than him and taller by about two inches. Her wavy, dark brown hair reached a little past her shoulders. She wore a blue cardigan over a white tank top and form-fitting jeans with a new pair of gray-and-blue sneakers.

"How you doing, Dolores?" Daniel asked.

"Is Clara asleep?" Dolores questioned.

"Yeah, I just put her back to bed not too long ago."

"Good. I need to show you something."

Dolores bent down out of sight behind the door and came up again and walked around to the front of her car and threw a folded newspaper down on the hood and pointed to a photograph next to an article.

"You recognize this man?" Dolores asked him.

Thanks to the moonlight, Daniel was able to see the man's face in the picture, though he didn't look familiar to him. "Can't say that I do."

"That man was at the office building when I took the girls into the city today", Dolores told him. "I didn't want to say anything to him, but Clara got curious about him and started asking him questions."

"He say anything to her?"

"Yeah, but I wasn't about to let him know that I knew who he was. I wanted to pull her away from him, but we were in an elevator. Clara wasn't afraid of him like I was, but he damn near scared the hell out of Louisa."

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that, but so long as he didn't say or do nothing to Clara, I ain't worried. I understand you being fearful about standing next to an ex-convict, but I don't want no one bad-mouthing my baby girl."

"That's not the point! The point here is that this man shouldn't have gotten out. You remember the killer who got away the night my brother died? Who do you think killed him?"

Daniel took another look at the picture in the newspaper, soaking in the memory of the man's physical appearance. He looked at Dolores again. "You think this is the feller who shot your brother down in cold blood?"

"I don't think, I know. Look at this-" Dolores unfolded the newspaper and spread it out over the hood, reading from it. "'Earlier today, Anton Chigurh, a professional hitman with a long history of criminal violence, was released from prison after serving ten years for killing more than a dozen people across the state of Texas. His sentence was reduced on account of his good behavior.' You hear what I just said? Good behavior!"

"He done served ten years", said Daniel. "I reckon they figured he learned his lesson and paid his debt to society."

"But they shouldn't have let him go. Criminals like Charles Manson and Jeffery Dahmer are still serving time for what they did, and this prick thinks he can walk the fucking streets again like nothing fucking happened."

"Don't you be cussing on my land", Daniel warned her. "Need I remind you my wife's grave is just over by that tree there?"

Dolores stared at him, then she looked over at the tree he was pointing towards that marked the resting place of Mrs. Taylor O'Donnell. She looked back at Daniel and said to him, "I'm sorry. I'm just upset about everything."

"I can understand you feelin' sore about the unfairness of it all, but that don't give you the right to disrespect my rules on my land", said Daniel.

"Well, I still say they should have injected him", said Dolores. "I'll never forgive Anton Chigurh for what he did to my brother. You know why he killed Wayne? It wasn't because he was black. It was because he was sleeping with a married woman. I warned Wayne not to get involved with her, but he did. You know the worst thing about it? The night he was killed, the woman brought her baby with her to his house. Police found their bodies, but the baby went missing. Nobody knows what happened to her that night. Wayne might not have been as smart as he like to think he was, but he was still my brother, and anyone who messes with Wayne, messes with me."

"If I may be allowed to inject my personal opinion, your brother shouldn't have been foolin' around with that woman in the first place. God only knows what happened to her baby that night."

"I don't care. I know that sounds cruel, but if anyone's to blame, it's that woman. If she had kept her legs shut-"

"Get to the point, Dolores. What are you trying to say?"

"It's simple. I'm gonna kill him."

Daniel was disturbed to hear this, as his eyes grew wide with shock. "Kill him? What do you mean kill him?"

"I mean kill him!" Dolores shouted.

Daniel clasped a hand over Dolores' mouth, shushing her. "You're gonna wake up Clara", he whispered. Daniel glanced over his shoulder, then he looked back at Dolores and asked her, "How are you plannin' on kill him?"

Dolores moved his hand away from her mouth so she could speak. "I don't know yet, but somehow, I'm gonna do it", she answered. "I know I'm asking a lot out of you, but I need your help to do so. I can't do this on my own."

"That's not a smart idea", said Daniel. "Violence begets violence, and violence won't absolve anything. If you're looking to hire me as an accomplice to avenge your brother by killing the man who killed him, I ain't interested."

"If it's getting caught you're worried about, don't worry about it. I have a lawyer, I'm sure he can come up with an excuse without anybody knowing either one of us was involved."

"They could slap on forty years for each of us if they do find out. No offense, but I would prefer not to engage in vigilantism."

"What are you saying, that you're against me?"

"I didn't say I was against you. I just don't think what you're thinking is the right thing. If you ask my opinion, I think this whole thing is insane."

"I didn't ask for your opinion. You're either with me or not. Now, what's it going to be?"

Daniel turned, throwing his arms up in air and back down, seeing there was no dealing with Dolores. He walked back to the apple tree and bent down to pick up a handful of dirt from his wife's grave and opened his palm to allow some of the earth to slip through his fingers. He measured the weight of the soil in his palm as though he were an oracle trying to obtain an answer from it, as if it might show somehow him an answer to the future.

Dolores came up behind him and folded her arms across her chest, looking impatient. "Well, do I have your answer or not? I ain't got all night, Daniel."

Daniel turned around and looked back at her. "I'd help you if I could, but I can't", he said.

"Why not?"

"Dolores, I'm on the verge of bankruptcy. I can't be concerned with your problems right now. I'm sorry your brother was killed, but that was a long time ago."

"Danny, if you needed money so badly, why didn't you just come to me and ask for it?" Dolores asked.

"I'm not the kind of man to be going around asking for charity", Daniel answered. "A man's got to have some pride for himself, even if it is against the commandments of the Lord Almighty."

"It's not charity if you're my family, even if it is by choice", Dolores explained. "When Uncle Everett died in 1961, you, Wayne and I made a promise to Starla and her sisters that we would stay in touch with each other and help each other out, no matter what. We owe it to the McGills as much as we owe it to our fathers and Uncle Pete."

"I was two-years-old at the time", Daniel reminded her. "How do you expect a boy at that age to remember something like that?"

"Well, I'm reminding you of it again. Uncle Pete's getting older, and pretty soon, he won't be around anymore. He's eighty-seven now. Next year, he'll be eighty-eight. He might not even last another year."

"What about Mrs. McGill?"

"Aunt Penny has dementia. She doesn't even recognize her own daughters half the time anymore."

"That's a shame."

"Yeah, it is. So, what do you say? Are you with me or are you out? I don't have much time."

Daniel folded his arms across his chest, thinking it over. "How much would you give me?"

"How much do you need?" Dolores asked.

Daniel shrugged. "About $75,000, I reckon."

"Why don't you just sell the farm and buy a smaller house?"

"You know I ain't got no interest in doin' that. Even if I sold the property and got a couple hundred thousand out of it, the land ain't producing like it used to. Unless it rains, I don't know what I'm going to do. I could sell off some of the livestock, but I would prefer to keep them. I already had to sell off my Hereford to the slaughterhouse just so I could feed my little girl."

"How much money do you have left on you?"

"All I got left is sixty-one dollars and twenty-two cents."

"That's it?"

"I had no choice. It was either pay off the loan I owe to the bank this month or sell off the land, and you know how I feel about doing that. My daddy used to say you ain't no kind of man if you ain't got land. Land means respect, and if you ain't got no respect for your land, then you ain't got no respect for yourself."

There was a moment of silence between them, and Daniel expected her to raise a fuss about it, but Dolores merely smiled and said, "Lund Record Company wants me to write some new songs for an album they want to release this year. Whether the album is a hit or not, whatever profits I make from it, I'll offer to give you half my share. I know times are tough for you and Clara right now, but if you help me find the man who killed Wayne, I'll agree to split the money I make from the sales with you. Fifty-fifty. That way you and I can still stay close together, and you can keep your farm from going under."

"Fifty-fifty, you say?"

"Right down the center."

"And 'iffin I say no?"

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means I got a lot more to lose than you do. You're doing fine on your own, but the bank is threatening to take away my home if I don't pay them by the end of the month. That won't be nothing compared to what will happen if the police find out about me being an accomplice to murder and they threaten to take away my daughter. You want my help, you gotta raise the stakes. I'd do anything for you, Dolores, but I got my kin to think about."

"All right. So, what do you want?"

"Fifty-one percent."

"You kill Anton Chigurh before I do, I'll give you fifty-five."

Daniel turned his head, looking back at the apple tree as though he were looking for a sign of some sort, a heavenly intervention to stop him from agreeing to the terms and conditions offered to him. A rabbit could have appeared and told him it was a sign from God, but there were no critters around except the ones asleep in the barn. No coyotes were heard howling at the moon. No crickets were chirping. Just dead silence.

Daniel looked back at Dolores and extended his dirt-covered hand to her, which she shook without hesitation.

"Good, then it's settled", said Dolores. "Get some sleep. We leave at ten o'clock tomorrow. You'll meet me at my house."

"I'll see you there", said Daniel.

Daniel walked Dolores to her car and was about to head back into his house, until a thought came to his mind that made him turn around. "Lori, what about the girls?" He asked. "We can't just leave them."

"I already thought about that", Dolores answered. "You remember my cousin, Roy?"

"Rolls Royce Roy?"

"Yeah, that's him."

"What about him?"

"I asked him to watch the girls for us while we're gone. He already said he would. See you in the morning, Danny."

Dolores got back in her car and shut the door and started the engine and turned the headlights on, then backed up and drove up the road. Daniel stood on the porch, looking uncertain, but determined.