“I know they do. But I don’t believe it. Chuckwalla talks a lot. He’s just a big-hearted old man, rough on the outside. He wouldn’t hit Scotty McKay, unless it was in a fair fight.”
“You don’t dislike Rance McCoy, do you?”
“Dislike him?”
Lila turned her head away, but not too quickly for Hashknife to have seen the tears in her eyes.
“I don’t dislike him,” she said wearily. “I was hurt and sick over it all. It seemed so unfair that no one had told me who I was—and what I was. You don’t know what it means, Mr. Hartley. And now they’ve taken my school away.”
“Yeah, I heard about it, Lila. I’m callin’ yuh Lila because everybody else does.”
“That’s all right.”
They stopped at the Parker gate.
“I’ve heard that Rance McCoy and his son never did hitch very well,” said Hashknife.
“Not very well,” admitted Lila. “They’ve always been at swords’ points, even when Angel was a little boy. Rance McCoy has always stood by Angel, even when Angel deserved severe punishment, but there never seemed any love between them. Even when Angel and I were little, he used to take Angel’s part against me.”