I—” she seemed confused.

“You what?” I said.

“I—I don’t know. I—someone was telling me those things. In my head. It sounded like Rose’s voice, and it seemed quite normal at the time. But…now that I’m saying it out loud…it…sounds crazy.”

It did sound crazy.

“Did he hurt you?” I said.

“He grabbed me a bit. But not for long.”

“How’d you kill him?”

“Stabbed him.”

“With what?”

“I keep a knife in my dress,” she said. “I wiped it off already, on his pant leg.” She studied my face a moment and said, “Are you okay?”

“Of course.”

“Then hadn’t we better ride down the hill and see about Scarlett?”

I wondered if maybe she was in shock over what had happened to her. I mean, Rose couldn’t have been gored by a bull in the valley one second and talkin’ to Gentry the next. This tree was a half mile from where the bull had been.

“Did Rose happen to say anythin’ else?”

“She said she was checkin’ on me.”

“And you spoke to her?”

She frowned. “Did I dream it?”

“I don’t know.”

I really didn’t know. I only knew it made no sense. How did Rose escape the bull? How could she be up here talkin’ to Gentry, and down there, scarin’ Rennick’s horses away?

“You never saw Rose?” I said.

“Nope. I just heard a voice, and then…” she snapped her fingers.

“Then what?”

“It was gone.”

I held out my hands, exasperated. “Well, didn’t that spook you?” I said.

She gestured at Grubbs. “One minute Monique is screaming, and you run off. Then four riders show up out of nowhere and a bug-eyed lunatic grabs me by the arm and pulls me up on his horse and gallops to this tree. Then he throws me to the ground. This one gets off his horse and pulls a gun on me. The crazy-eyed man tells him to kill me, then him and two others ride down the hill. This one grabs me and says if I don’t give him a pop, he’s gonna shoot me. He starts pullin’ my dress up, and I stab him.”

“I figured that out already,” I said.

“Well, after dealin’ with killers and rapers, why the hell would I’d be spooked by the voice of a witch in my head?”

I took off my hat with one hand and smoothed my hair with the other. Then put my hat back on and said, “That’s dangerous talk, callin’ someone a witch.”

“Oh, come on, Emmett. You know she’s a witch. Everyone knows it.”

“It’s loose talk, is what it is.”

Gentry frowned. “Are you serious? The woman is twenty! Forgettin’ the fact she claims to have lived with pirates 150 years ago, she’s buried six husbands! She sees things comin’ that ain’t even left where they’re coming from! She talks to horses! She sniffs truth out of liars! She cooks food for people who ain’t showed up yet, and knows how many there’ll be for breakfast, and what they like to eat. She can tell who’s fornicatin’ with who, and knows about titty contests that took place forty miles away. She’s a witch, Emmett. A good one, maybe, but a witch all the same.”

“There must be a different explanation.”

“Well, until we come up with one, she’s a witch.”

I stared at her a minute.

“You’re not jealous of Rose, are you?”

“Of course not!”

“Well, I can see where some might raise an eyebrow over the fact we travel together.”

“Oh, hell, Emmett. Anyone can see there’s nothin’ between you but friendship. You’re like brother and sister.