Morning pressed thin light through the curtains of the River Queen’s upper rooms. The house was hushed, though not with peace. Servants moved quietly on the stairs, carrying away broken glass, scrubbing stains from rugs, putting order back where gun smoke and blood had left their mark. The smell of oil lamps and roasted meat lingered with the sharper tang of powder, a reminder that the night’s civility had cracked wide open.

Eli rose early, boots pulled on before the corridor stirred. He checked the Colt out of habit, spun the cylinder once, and holstered it smoothly. Sleep had been thin; the house was Harper’s, and no man truly rested under another’s roof, least of all a man who had seen the smile behind Harper’s offers.

Across the hall, Caleb emerged with his coat slung loose, hair damp from the basin. His face was worn but steadier than it had been the day before. “I never thought I’d take Harper’s hospitality,” he muttered, adjusting the set of his collar. “But he kept his word. Food, a bed, no trouble in the night.”

Eli gave a slow nod, his eyes scanning the empty corridor before they stepped down the stairs. “Harper was measuring us.”

The common room below was half-restored. Chairs had been righted, carpets brushed, though the windows still bore cracks from stray shots. A pair of Harper’s men stood near the doors, coats neat, pistols hidden but not far from reach. They nodded politely as Eli and Caleb passed, but their eyes lingered.

Outside, the air was sharp with river wind. Sunlight glanced off the levee, where wagons rattled past and dockhands shouted over crates. Caleb drew a long breath, shoulders easing as he looked back at the River Queen. “Whatever else comes, Eli, we walked out whole. I’ll not say I am ungrateful.”

Eli’s gaze lingered on the broad facade, the brass letters of its sign catching morning light. “We have his offer to consider,” he said. “Though I know which way I am going already.”

They turned toward Caleb’s rooms, the city already stirring, shadows trailing them down the boardwalk.

—•—

The boardwalks were busy, the clatter of wagons and the calls of hawkers rolling over the street like a tide. Sunlight struck off the river, harsh and bright, and the smell of tar, horses, and damp wood filled the air. Men moved quickly about their trades, yet Eli marked how some slowed when he and Caleb passed. A pair of dockhands leaned on their poles longer than their work called for. A man with a folded paper never turned a page, though he stared at it as they went by.

Caleb kept his head high, outwardly unbothered, though he spoke low enough that only Eli could hear. “Feels like every set of eyes in Vicksburg is on us.”

“They are,” Eli said flatly. “Harper has their interest. Some want to know what place we hold at his table. Others only want to know if we’ll live to walk another day.”

They turned down a narrower street where the noise thinned. The clapboard fronts here showed wear, shutters faded, the signs plain. Caleb stopped at a narrow door set between a cooper’s shop and a tobacconist, and with a push, shouldered it open.

Inside, the room was modest but clean. A table with two chairs, a narrow bed, and a basin set on a stand. The smell of old coffee clung to the boards. Caleb set his saddlebag down with a thump, then drew a pitcher of water and poured it into the basin. “It isn’t much,” he said, “but it’s mine.”

Eli took the chair, setting his hat on the table, eyes sweeping the single window that looked onto the street. The curtain was thin, the latch simple, but it would serve well enough for now.

They let the hours pass in silence broken only by the sound of the street below: wagon wheels striking stone, children chasing each other past the shops, a smith hammering iron somewhere close. Caleb fried bacon in a blackened pan, and the two men ate without hurry, each weighed down by his own thoughts.

The knock came just as the sun slipped past noon. Three firm raps, measured, not hurried. Caleb looked to Eli, who rose and crossed to the door.

—•—

Caleb opened the door. Sheriff Dobbs stood on the step, hat in hand, coat neat.

“Afternoon, Mr. Thorne. Mr. Warren,” Dobbs said. “May I come in?”

Caleb stepped back, and the sheriff entered, set his hat on the table, and sat. He looked at them both once, straight and slow.

“I spoke with Harper,” Dobbs said. “He says Burke’s men came to his hall last night. He praises how you held up. I saw enough myself when I looked over the place and saw the bodies that were carried out to know trouble wasn’t of your making. Still, your names were called. That brings trouble to this city.”

Eli met his eyes. “They’ve trailed me since the river. They came when they chose. I am not a running man, but I don’t go looking for a fight, either.”

Dobbs nodded. “All I ask is plain. Vicksburg will stand what it must, but it won’t be a place for old quarrels. If you stay, keep to honest work. If you take Harper’s offer, know what that means. I don’t care whose roof you live under; I care that this town stays quiet.”

Caleb leaned forward. “We don’t want trouble, Sheriff. We’ll keep to ourselves. The only problem is, they weren’t keeping to themselves.”

“I understand. A man is entitled to defend himself. Do us all a favor and make sure that’s all it becomes.” Dobbs rose, picked up his hat and gave them a final look. “You boys be careful.” He left without more words. The street sounds came back in as the door closed.

—•—

For a time, neither spoke. The sound of wagon wheels and voices carried through the thin curtain. Caleb pushed his plate aside and leaned back in his chair.

“Harper wants us,” he said. “The sheriff don’t care either way, so long as the streets stay quiet.”

Eli shook his head. “We won’t work for Harper. A man like that buys more than your gun. He buys your name. Once it’s his, it stays his.”

Caleb let out a slow breath. “I know. And I’m glad to hear you say it plain. I’ll not wear his chain, either. Better to take what work we can find, even if it’s hard or lean.”

“There’s always work,” Eli said. “Might not be easy coin, but it will be ours.”

Caleb studied him across the table. “Do you have anything in mind?”

Eli’s eyes went to the window, the street alive with the noise of trade and wagons. “Not yet. But we’ll find it.”

The room settled quiet again, their course chosen, the city beyond waiting.