The horse’s every step hurt him. They rode back down the road they had come on for what Andy thought must have been two or three miles. He saw lamplight in a window. “Farmhouse,” he said. “Maybe they’ll help us.” Farley’s voice choked with pain. “If they ain’t Hoppers.” “Even if they are, maybe they don’t know what happened in town. No need in us tellin’ them.” Andy strode up onto a wooden porch and knocked on the door. He heard a floor squeak as someone walked across it. The door opened, and a woman stood there, a shotgun in her hand. A cold feeling came to Andy’s stomach. He recognized Jayce Landon’s wife. Her voice was like ice. “You’re one of them Rangers. What do you want here?” “I’ve got a hurt man outside. He needs help.” She looked at Farley but offered no sympathy. “You-all brought my husband back and turned him over to them Hoppers. Now you’ve got the nerve to ask for my help?” An old man’s voice came from a back room. “Who is it, Flora?”
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