The thing is, compared to the sun-dried cowpokes out in Texas, Sundance is practically cuddly. Sure, he's about as huggable as cacti, but Kate's used to reading silences and grunts in place of words. That's why Green Lake needed her touch, back during her schoolteacher days. Take the farmers and the ranch hands, try to civilize them a bit, teach them their letters, discuss poetry. She don't scare easy.

Never has.

"I'd reckon so."

She pauses, gears grinding away. She gives his gun a second look, then ponders the glint in his eyes.

"Maybe we should find them."

It doesn't fall off the tongue natural—we—but that's what they are for now. She don't know him and he don't know her, but they know Wyoming, and Texas, and that's better than anything this ship's got to offer so far. Besides, he looks like the resourceful type. Maybe even the type that'll come in handy in a shootout.