Boone's Lick by Larry McMurtry

who met the trains and riverboats was driving. When Uncle Seth tried to ease Aunt Rosie out of the buggy she gave a sharp cry.
    â€œRibs,” she said.
    â€œShay, go to the creek and get a bucket of water,” Ma said.
    â€œI’ll kill whoever done this,” Uncle Seth said.
    â€œNo you won’t—the sheriff done it,” Rosie said. “Joe Tate. He’s not like Sheriff Baldy.”
    â€œHurry, Shay—mind me,” Ma said. “We need the water.”
    By the time I got back with the bucket of water Ma had made Aunt Rosie a comfortable pallet by the fireplace. She soon had water heated and it wasn’t long before she had cleaned the blood off her sister.
    â€œI can’t do much about the ribs,” Ma said.
    â€œI’ll go fetch the doctor, then,” Uncle Seth said.
    He was standing over Rosie with a dark look on his face.
    â€œDon’t let him go, Mary,” Rosie said at once. “Send Sherman.”
    â€œI suppose I’m free to go to town if I want to,” Uncle Seth said, but both women shook their heads. Even Neva shook her head, though I don’t know what Neva thought
she
knew about it.
    â€œNo you ain’t—not when you’re this mad,” Ma said.
    They stared at one another, over Aunt Rosie: Ma and Uncle Seth. I could see he was strongly inclined to go out the door. I didn’t know why a sheriff would want to beat up Aunt Rosie, but I agreed with Uncle Seth that he deserved to be killed for it.
    â€œSeth, you just calm down,” Rosie said—her voice wasn’t very strong. It reminded me of Sheriff Baldy’s voice, just before he fainted.
    â€œCalm down, with you half dead?” Uncle Seth said. “I guess I won’t—not until Joe Tate’s answered for this deed.”
    â€œThat new preacher stirred him up—it’s happened before,” Aunt Rosie said. “New preachers always think they have to start preaching against whores.”
    â€œI suppose it helps them at the collection plate,” Ma said.
    â€œPreachers . . . they should shut their damn traps!” Uncle Seth said. “But a preacher couldn’t stir up a sheriff to do such as this unless the sheriff was mean to begin with. Joe Tate’s just a damn bully.”
    â€œListen to me, Seth,” Ma said. “We’re leaving this place in two days. It may be that we’ll never be back. We have a long trip to make and we’ll need your help. I can’t allow you to march off and shoot the sheriff, or pistol-whip him, or whatever you have in mind.”
    â€œPlenty, that’s what I have in mind,” Uncle Seth said. He cast his eyes down, so as not to have to face Ma, and started for the door.
    â€œSeth!” Ma said—Ma could speak stern when she needed to, but I had never heard her speak quite
this
stern.
    Uncle Seth stopped, but he didn’t turn around.
    â€œIf you walk out that door I’m through with you,” Ma said. “I wash my hands of you. I swear I’ll take these younguns and go find Dick myself, and if we all get scalped, so be it.”
    Uncle Seth stood where he was for a minute, stiff and annoyed.
    â€œMary, are you teasing?” he asked, finally.
    â€œWhat do you think, Rosie?” Ma asked. “Am I teasing?”
    â€œShe’s not teasing, Seth,” Rosie said.
    Then she laughed a funny little laugh that must have caused her ribs to twinge, because she coughed in pain at the end of the laugh.
    â€œMary Margaret’s not much of a teaser,” she said.
    â€œOh, she can tease with the best of them, when the mood’s on her,” Uncle Seth said.
    â€œLeave Joe Tate alone!” Ma said. “We don’t need worse trouble than we’ve got.”
    â€œI’ve never been much of a hand for taking orders from females,” Uncle Seth said.
    There was a silence that wasn’t comfortable—such a tense silence that even Neva