Texas Drive by Bill Dugan

stopping Johnny. Or maybe she blamed him for not killing the Comanche himself. She seemed to agree with her father, but Ted wasn’t quite sure. When she turned back, her face was calm, no hint of any contradiction.
    “Ellie’s right, let’s have some dinner.” Jacob stepped to the door and held it for Ellie. Ted waited for the old man, but was waved on in. He followed Ellie into the kitchen. Places were already set, and he could smell the pie cooling on the windowsill.
    “Looks great,” he said. “Smells even better.”
    “Ellie’s a good cook,” Jacob said. “She takes after her mother.” His voice caught for a second, as if a word got stuck in his throat. He swallowed hard and looked away while Ted and Ellie sat down.
    “Are you alright, Daddy?”
    Jacob nodded. They both knew what was on his mind. Sarah Quitman had been dead for six years, herself a victim of the Comanches. Jacob didn’t dwell on it, but there were little things that reminded him, unimportant in themselves, except for the memories they stirred.
    “Maybe we should forget about everything and enjoy the meal, eh?” Jacob sniffed once, then picked up a carving knife to hack a few slabs of white meat off a roasted chicken. He speared them in turn and deposited two each on Ted’s plate and his own, and gave Ellie one piece. “Eats like a bird herself, she does.” He laughed.
    Ellie chewed at her lower lip, then passed the vegetables.
    “So, Theodore, have you given any more thought to what you want to do with your life now?” Jacob peered at him over the top of his glasses.
    “Not really. I can’t seem to make up my mind about anything these days.”
    “Maybe you have to forget about the past. Forget everything. You’re a young man, with your whole life ahead of you. Someone my age, now,there’s no hope. I am what I am, and, please God, that’s good enough. But young people, they have choices. There’s no mistake so great you can’t set it right at your age.”
    “I wish I could believe that, Jacob.”
    “Oh, you can, son, you can.”
    They danced around the subject of Ted’s future through most of the meal, never confronting it head-on, but saying nothing that didn’t at least hint at the uncertainty. When the meal was finished, Jacob dragged him out on the porch. “Time for the men to talk about a few things, Ellie,” he said. She smiled, but said nothing. If she felt excluded, she didn’t seem to mind.
    Outside, Jacob sat on a wooden rocker and Ted dropped to the top step of the porch. Jacob Quitman was a gentle man, but there was a strength in him that went beyond his size, which was just above average. The white beard made him look almost priestly, and the deep resonance of his voice just added to that impression. His powerful hands cupped in his lap, he smiled at Ted.
    “I didn’t want to say anything in front of Ellie,” Jacob said, almost whispering, “but I’m afraid we may be in for some real trouble.”
    “The Comanches?”
    Jacob nodded. “Aye, the Comanches. I wish there was some way to convince them that Texas is big enough for all of us.”
    “I don’t think it is,” Ted said.
    “You can’t mean that. Why, this state is bigger than most countries of the world. How could there not be enough land for all of us?”
    Ted spread his palms helplessly. “It was their land long before we were here. They can’t forget that, and they sure won’t forgive.”
    “At least you understand that. I’m not so sure about most of the people around here.”
    “I’m not so sure about me, either, Jacob.”
    “You can’t blame them for trying to steal a few cows. I’ve been to their camps. Their children are undernourished, half of them. And with winter coming on, they’ve got to be concerned. That means we’ve got to be concerned, too. For them, as well as for ourselves.”
    “Jacob, you don’t seem to realize that they don’t give a hoot in hell, if you’ll forgive the expression, about us. We’re the