War on the Cimarron by Luke; Short

men started for this place with the corn. He was turned back by strange riders. And the next day the Cheyennes demanded beef from our trail herd. It’s the first time it’s ever happened to us. Dad, being a beef contractor for the Indians and the army, has always been allowed to pass his herds through without paying beef.” She leaned back. “Now do you see? It was a warning, a pretty plain one.”
    â€œCorb?” Frank asked.
    Luvie nodded.
    Frank was about to say something, and then he checked himself. He stood up. “Well, that’s that. You’ll stay and eat, won’t you?”
    Luvie said quietly, “You think Dad’s a coward, don’t you, Frank?”
    â€œI never said so.”
    â€œBut you look like you did,” Luvie said resentfully. “It’s easy for a stranger, an ignorant stranger, to condemn us. But we’ve got our own way of living.”
    â€œSure you have,” Frank said, not wanting to argue.
    â€œThen don’t look that way!” Luvie said.
    Frank stared at her. “What way?”
    â€œThe way you looked when I talked to you in the feed office yesterday! The way you looked at me when you talked to Dad! The way you’re looking now! I don’t like being sneered at!”
    â€œI didn’t sneer,” Frank said. “But maybe you’re lookin’ for sneers because way inside you might think you deserve ’em.”
    Luvie came to her feet, eyes flashing. “For what?”
    Frank shrugged. “I dunno. You’re the one that thinks I’m sneering.”
    â€œYou are,” Luvie said. “You think Dad’s a coward, don’t you?”
    An anger which had never been far from the surface these last few days again bobbed up, and Frank said just as recklessly. “Now you pin me down, I’ll tell you. I wouldn’t call him a coward. He just likes to take things lyin’ down. I don’t.”
    â€œYou’re a grateful person,” Luvie said scornfully.
    â€œGrateful for what?” Frank said. “A promise? Thanks, and thanks again, if that’s what you want. It was a nice promise, that load of corn. I almost believed it!”
    Luvie’s hands were fisted at her sides. She took a deep breath and exhaled it. “I hope you do get run off here, Frank Christian! And you will! My dad has a good business and he’s at peace with everyone. But in a foolish moment he went against his better judgment and—”
    â€œYour better judgment, wasn’t it?”
    Luvie stamped her foot. “Let me finish! He did a foolish thing, and now you think he’s a coward because he won’t risk his whole business to help you. Well, you’ll find nobody likes to help a fool! Most of us here on this reservation can’t talk as fool brave as you can. We don’t even try to, because we know we can’t back it up! And neither can you!”
    She brushed past Frank, and he watched her walk to her horse. Her back was as straight as a gun barrel and somehow conveyed the outrage she felt. She mounted and rode off the place. Frank looked at the house. Otey was standing in the doorway, his glance accusing.
    So he talked brave but he couldn’t back it up, she thought. In other words, he was a Texas loudmouth, the kind of man he hated more than any kind alive. Luvie Barnes couldn’t tell the difference between a braggart and a man who meant what he said.
    Frank saw Red in the wagon shed. The chuck wagon was up on blocks and had two wheels off.
    Still smarting under the memory of Luvie’s words, Frank walked over to Red.
    â€œRed, you know where Scott Corb hangs out?”
    Red looked up, mild surprise on his face. “Sure. Why?”
    â€œYou don’t want to pay a call there with me tonight, do you?”
    â€œWhy don’t I?”
    Frank looked down the slope. Luvie was almost at the creek.
    â€œNobody likes to help a fool,” Frank