Joe Riley rode fast, covering large expanses of territory. Buck was in good shape from a month's rest and handled the high speed well. On about the third day since leaving the farm, Joe came across a well-traveled road. Lucky for him, it was heading south, toward the border. John's words in his mind, Joe had kept vigilant. He had seen some groups of riders yesterday but had remained hidden from their sight until they moved on. Now, a road seemed like a safe place to be, for he would be less likely to unintentionally trespass.

After a couple hours on the road, he came upon a stage station. The keeper told him of trouble brewing to the southeast and that he had seen many men riding through, all marked with death. Joe described Chad to him, but the man told him that they all looked the same to him. Still, it was worth a shot.

A day later he was on the edge of a town. He stopped for a moment before entering, for it had been a long time, and he was out of practice. A woman out in her picket-fenced yard squinted up at him as he reined in. "Excuse me, ma'am, but what town is this?"

She glared at him with open hostility. "Can't you tell? It's only the rowdiest, most devil-filled city this side of the Rio Grande."

Joe nodded politely, trying to stay pleasant. "I'm sure it is, ma'am, but please, I'm new here. What's it called?"

"Laredo, Texas, home of the Texas Rangers' B Company, though little good they seem to be doing with all this commotion."

Joe felt a jolt go through him. Texas Rangers? Here? He immediately felt self-conscious, like a posse was tailing him. He thanked the woman and reluctantly rode deeper into town.

The place was brimming with life, men on horses and wagons alike. Joe groaned in frustration. How would he find anyone in this mess of humanity, let alone Chad, who may not even be here? He heard some crashing coming from a nearby building. He tied Buck to a hitching rail, who pinned his ears irritably at a nearby horse. The other horse stood calmly and ignored the mustang, giving Joe the feeling that this horse was used to standing outside with other horses, unlike his own mount.

Joe walked up toward the building, pausing to look up a sign. It dangled over the boardwalk, making Joe wonder if it could hit him in the head if he didn't duck. The sign was made of grey-painted wood with black letters reading, "Cactus Saloon: Finest in Laredo." Well, if it was the finest, then surely Chad would be there if he was anywhere in this town.

Joe stepped up to the batwing doors, looking around inside for a sign of Chad. Everyone in the building was busily having a good time, either at the bar or the gaming tables. A woman in a cheap silk dress was singing by a piano to raucous applause. A brutish man was clapping the loudest, his face lit by a big grin. The strangest thing about the spectacle was that the woman was singing in Spanish, yet had reddish hair and a fair complexion. A cursory glance around the place told him that Cooper was not here; he turned to leave.

A gentle hand on his arm stopped him. He turned to see the woman who had been singing standing there. "Where you goin', cowboy? Don't like my singing?"

He felt his face warm; she was beautiful, and he did like red heads. "Ah, no ma'am, I'm just lookin' for someone, that's all." He averted his eyes to the crowd.

"Why don't you stop lookin' up there and start lookin' down here." She pressed against him, her velvety voice near his ear.

"Um, well…."

The brutish man from the bar elbowed through the crowd, butting in. "Didn't you hear the man, Carmelita? He said he had places to be."

"Oh, you're not in that big of a hurry, are you, big guy?"

Joe didn't like where this was going. He wasn't that naïve to know that the man beside Carmelita fancied himself to have a claim on the singer. He did not come this far to get into a fight.

"Sorry, ma'am, but I better be goin' on. Lookin' for someone, and he ain't here."

She put her hands on her curvaceous hips, distracting him. "I see everyone in this town, one time or another. Maybe I could help you…but it'll cost you a drink."

"Carmelita…," the brute growled. He had a voice like metal on rock.

She fluttered a jeweled hand in his direction. "Not now, Ranger, I've got a costumer."

Ranger? Joe swallowed uncomfortably, and the other man noticed. "Haven't I seen you before?" the shorter man asked.

"Don't think so. I'm new here," Joe said, trying to appear relaxed. "Maybe I will have that drink."

Carmelita grinned, her bright red lips a startling contrast against her ivory skin. "This way, mister."

Joe tried to ignore the ranger, but the man was making it difficult. "Take care, stranger. That's my girl you're messin' with there, don't forget it," the man said, his growling voice just barely heard over the din.

"Oh, I won't." The man was so familiar to Joe, but he could not recall...then it hit him like a sledge hammer between the eyes. He was one of the rangers that arrested him almost two years ago! Joe tried to walk nonchalantly away from the brooding ranger. It was that voice that brought back the memory. Who could forget a grating drawl like that?

Carmelita was seated near the back, a bottle and two shot glasses already on the table. "Sit down, cowboy, and tell me all about it."

Joe eased himself into the chair next to her, his back to the wall. "Not much to tell. Just driftin'."

"Just drifting? Haven't I heard that one before? Every bum who comes through here says they're 'just drifting', but nobody's not going anywhere. Let me tell you, cowboy. People are always going somewhere, whether they know it or not."

"Yes, ma'am." She was hard to figure.

She poured Joe a drink. He took it in his large hand and took a small sip. It went down relatively easily, though it burned like fire in his empty stomach. He tried to hide his discomfort from the saloon woman. She smirked at him. "Just off mama's milk, sonny?"

"Hardly," he defended, but milk sounded soothing to his throat right now. He turned the glass between his fingers. "You said that you see just about everybody in this area one time or another."

She leaned forward, her scooping dress line leaving nothing to the imagination. Joe tried to keep his eyes on her face. "Sure I do, and remember most of them, if they're good lookin'. Your friend come through here?"

"Maybe, not sure. He's a little shorter'n me, dark hair and green eyes, skinny. He's got a cross-draw holster."

Her perfect lips twisted. "Anything else? That's not much to go on."

"He might be goin' by C.J. Cooper, or Chad, and…well, he fancies himself a ladies' man."

She laughed suddenly, a loud but not unpleasant sound. "Chad Cooper? That little dapper-dan is a friend of yours?"

Joe sat bolt upright, almost knocking the bottle over. "He's been here?"

Her eyes looked toward the ceiling as she thought. "Sure, ah…about four weeks ago. He was with a real cute dark-haired boy. That one had a temper on him! Started a fight when some fool insulted one of my girls. Chivalry is not dead, apparently—"

"Did he say where he was going?" Joe interrupted.

"Going? I'm not sure they were leaving. There are plenty of spreads around here hiring guns. Trouble's brewing between the Sheppard and McTavish spreads. Could be they hired on to one of those. Couldn't be sure."

"Obliged, ma'am." He moved to get up but stopped when he felt her soft hand on his arm.

"What's your hurry, sonny? Don't you like sitting here with me?"

"Sure, but he don't." The ranger from earlier was sitting just a couple tables away, his eyes never leaving Joe's face.

Carmelita pouted. "Oh, him? He doesn't mean anything to me. I like my man to be young, strong, and handsome."

Joe appraised the ranger. "He looks strong enough. I think I'll just be movin' on, now." The last thing he needed to do was get into a fight with a ranger, especially one that could recognize him at any moment.

He stood, shrugging off Carmelita's hand as she tried to stop him again. He strode as quickly out of the establishment as possible. He made his way to Buck, who had settled companionably with the bay from earlier. He was tightening the cinch of his saddle when he heard an all too familiar grating voice. "I just know I've seen you before, boy."

"Maybe I just got one of those faces."

"What's your business in Laredo?"

Joe was getting tired of questions. Couldn't a man just mind his own affairs? "Just lookin' around, that's all."

"Well, I think you ought to look elsewhere than here at the Cactus."

Joe was fed up. Ranger or not, he was going to tell him what-for. "Listen, here, Ranger. I don't care one little bit about that gal in there, so would you just lay off?"

The ranger bristled, reminding Joe of a porcupine. "Well! I suppose you're too good for her, is that it?"

Joe threw his hands up in the air. "NO! Oh, never mind." He tried to get onto his horse, but the ranger grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around.

"You're just askin' for it, ain't you," the ranger growled before popping Joe right in the nose.

Joe saw stars and immediately his eyes began to water. He touched his upper lip, and his fingers came away red. "What the…? You crazy—"

"BENNETT!"

A man in a corduroy jacket and ribbon tie interrupted the two men. "Private Bennett, what is going on here?"

"Uh, nothin', Cap'n Parmalee, nothin' at all."

"I can see that. After you finish doing 'nothing', I want you to sweep out the barracks."

Joe couldn't help but smirk at the ranger's dejected countenance but quickly hid his face behind his handkerchief when the Captain's grey eyes focused on him. "Are you injured?"

"No, just a bloody nose," Joe said, muffled by the cloth.

"What? Let me see," the captain was already reaching for Joe's face. It was it this moment when Joe felt the hairs on the back of his neck tingle…. These two were the ones that arrested him, both of them together in front of him!

"I'm fine, really," Joe said hurriedly. He had to get away! In the back of his mind, he knew he was free and clear, but somewhere along the line he had lost his papers stating him to be so.

"Cap'n, there's something real familiar about this one. Think we ought to take him over to the office?"

Joe's pulse spiked again, and he was beginning to get light headed. His bloody nose wasn't helping the feeling.

The captain considered Joe. "I'll have to ask you to lower that kerchief. Just as a precaution. The private here might not be much, but he has a good memory for faces."

Joe had to comply for if he made a break for it, they would become suspicious, and he might get shot. Besides, it had been two years since they had last seen him, and he did look quite a bit different back then. He reluctantly lowered the stained cloth, sniffing when blood started to drip onto his chin.

"Reese, you might have broken this man's nose. What were you—" He cut off so abruptly, Joe nearly panicked. Serious eyes flickered up and down Joe's length, not missing a thing. The eyes came back to meet Joe's, squinted slightly. "That's a nice knife you got there. Mind if I have a look at it?"

Joe tried to keep his hand from shaking as he reached for the handle. "Not at all. Here."

The tall man accepted the blade, looking it all over. "Where did you get this?"

Joe shrugged. "Shucks, I don't know. Some store in…Austin."

"Really? I could have sworn it came from a place further north…Oklahoma maybe? On a Comanche reservation…."

"That's quite the story," Joe bluffed.

The captain nodded. "It sure is. How about hearing more about it in my office? It's just up the street here."

Joe held his hand out, requesting his knife. "That sounds fun, but just the same, I think I'll be leavin' town now."

"I don't think so, pard," Bennett said, his gun drawn.

Joe wanted to slap himself on the forehead. He should have left when he had the chance. Looking between the two experienced rangers, he felt any fight drain out of him. Dropping his hand to his side, his shoulders slumped, he surrendered. "Fine, lead the way."

"Good," Parmalee smiled, pleased there was no violence. The trio walked toward the office just as a large group of horsemen left town.

Joe stopped abruptly and grunted when Ranger Bennett crashed into him from behind. He cast a look over his shoulder in annoyance, but let it ride. He turned his attention toward the captain. "Who are those men?"

The captain was glaring at Bennett but answered Joe's question. "Those are some men that just hired on to Sheppard's outfit. Say they're cowboys. Ha! Everyone knows what they are…and the trouble is, we can't do anything about it until actual fighting breaks out." Parmalee gestured ahead. "Just over there. Let's go."

The large man was sitting in the chair, looking nervous. Reese was nervous too, because although the man's gun and knife were laid on the Captain's desk, he still looked dangerous. Reese bet that if the man wanted, he could crack walnuts, or skulls, with those arms.

The captain broke the silence. "So, young man, you sure have changed quite a lot since we saw you last. When did you get out of prison?"

The man's hands were flexing over his thighs, looking ready to flee. Reese tightened his grip on his sidearm, just in case.

"Around 6 months ago, or so."

The captain jotted down something on a slip of paper and handed it off to Jimmy, who often patrolled the street looking for odd jobs. "Take this over to the telegram office and have it sent to the Huntsville Prison." He turned back to the man in the chair. "It shouldn't take too long to get this cleared up. Just want to check your story. You'll be free to go after that."

This seemed to calm the big man somewhat. He leaned against the back of the chair, his deep brown eyes on the floor. His nose had stopped bleeding, but there was a little dried blood in his stubble.

Reese sat on a chair backwards, his arms propped on the back. "Hey."

The man's face came up, just revealed under the brim of his tan hat. "Hey, what?"

"I just knew it! All along!"

"Knew what?"

"That you were that Comanche kid we found out there! You sure have changed. You just about had me fooled, but not for long, no sir! You can't outfox ol' Reese!" Reese slapped his leg in glee.

The man rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Yeah, I should have known better, I guess," he said sarcastically.

"Well, now, no sense gettin' down on yourself. You tried your hardest, and that's all a man can do."

"Bennett." The captain was giving Reese that look.

"Yes, Cap'n. Don't talk to prisoners, got it." The man jolted in his chair slightly, and Reese tried to fix the situation. "Not that you're a prisoner, kid."

The captain put his hand in his face. "Sorry about him, Mister…." He trailed off as if to give the man a chance to offer his name. He didn't. Parmalee went ahead and asked outright. "What are you calling yourself these days? In that get-up I hardly think you'd be going by a Comanche name now."

The man reluctantly relinquished the information. "Uh…Riley, Joe Riley. And it is my real name…my white name anyhow."

"You have a job, Mr. Riley?"

Riley shifted in his chair. "Not for some time, now. Got laid up in an accident 'bout three months ago. Still comin' off of that." His hand unconsciously rubbed at his shoulder, as if to massage away an ache.

A clatter sounded outside announced Jimmy's arrival. He breathlessly entered the office and handed off a scrap a paper. Parmalee flipped him a coin, and the boy left.

"Says here that you're free and clear."

Joe let loose a ragged sigh.

Parmalee continued. "What are your plans, Riley? Do you plan on staying here in Laredo?"

Joe felt much more comfortable now after receiving the news. "It all depends on whether or not I can find the man I'm lookin' for. He may be around here."

"What is the nature of this search?"

"I ain't here to kill him. He's a friend. Just heard that he might be down here."

"What's his name?"

"Cooper, Chad Cooper. Sometimes he goes by C.J., though."

Parmalee looked thoughtful. "Gunfighter, is he?"

Joe answered reluctantly. "You could say that."

Ranger Bennett interjected with, "Say, Cap'n, wasn't there a Cooper come out of Louisiana? Said to be real handy with a gun?"

Joe nodded, feeling dismay in the pit of his stomach. Just what had Chad been doing before the Favor drive? "That's him, alright."

Parmalee looked grim. "There are so many hired killers around here, it wouldn't surprise me if he were nearby."

"Chad ain't no killer," Joe said defensively, "but the man he's with might be. Goes by the name of Harper."

Parmalee eyebrows rose. "Harper? From up north?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

The captain opened a drawer and rifled around. He pulled out a stack of old papers, some yellowed with age. Shuffling through them, he finally pulled out one, a wanted poster. He turned it around so Joe could see. "This him?"

Joe studied it a moment. "Could be. I only have a description of him; never actually seen him. But that definitely sounds like him."

Parmalee handed it sheet to Bennett, who looked it over. "I've seen him before, Cap'n. He was here at the Cactus about a month ago. I didn't know he was wanted. Otherwise I would have brought him in."

"If Jess Harper is around, then it can only mean one thing: either Sheppard or McTavish is planning a fracas, and soon."

Joe leaned forward. "This Harper, what's he wanted for? Murder?"

The captain shook his head. "No, stage robbery, and only suspected. The trouble with these gunfighters is that they are so fast they might as well be murdering the people they go against. Those poor devils don't even stand a chance."

Oh, Chad. What have you gotten yourself into?

The captain was giving Bennett some commands, and the ranger left the building. Joe had missed what had been said, the result of being lost in thought. "What's happening?"

The captain stood, getting a rifle out of a rack, checking the load. "I've had enough of just sitting around, waiting for the trouble to start. We're going out to look for Harper and any other wanted men that we happen to run into. McTavish and Sheppard may be hard men, but I doubt they'll want to get into trouble with the state of Texas for hiring fugitives."

If Chad was with Harper, like Joe believed him to be, he could be in real trouble. If these rangers found Harper, there could be gun play. Joe made a quick decision. "Mind if I ride along?"

Parmalee stopped mid stride. "What for? You're not a ranger."

"My friend might be out there. I sure would like to stop him from doin' somethin' stupid."

The captain shrugged. "Suit yourself, but if you get yourself shot, blame your friend, not me." He handed Joe his gun and knife. "Truth be told, I would be happy to have another gun along. This could get dangerous."

Joe grimly sheathed the pistol and blade. "I'm used to it by now."

Parmalee stared at him for a moment, his face unreadable. "Once this is all over, we need to have a talk."