Chapter Forty Nine: — LUCAS REYES RODE his horse slowly along the sandy breaks that snaked between Kirkland’s Double K Ranch and the Collins’s Bar W border. He liked taking this way home. No matter the season, there was a beauty about this quarter mile of in-between land where all he saw was nature in every direction, and the sounds were the same as those that must have floated over this land a hundred years ago. The slender thread of dried-up creek bed wasn’t claimed by Kirkland or Collins. A no-man’s-land, where outlaws could have roamed in the early days of Texas. The stillness here was like music to Lucus. All he heard were the low sounds of the wild and his own breathing. He wondered if in the big cities people might live their whole lives without ever knowing this kind of beautif

