Earl Dean was astounded by his hesitation. He should have balked more, but then he also felt defeated that he was so quick to capitulate. His life was truly not his anymore―seeming to be in total ruin. The ride home was a nightmare. Although careful not to malign Lucille in anyway, his aunt and uncle let their feelings and thoughts on the matter be known. Their voices swirling around his ears like the wind coming through the open windows―catching a word now and then―nodding his head in response―grunting out an agreement. But in his mind he had two choices―give up his wife or fight to keep her. He settled on fighting to keep her. But then he wondered if it was to save his marriage or to wreck his good-for-nothing cousin’s aims. He knew in his heart the buffalo was all that mattered to Lucille. Then he shuddered at the thought of it with a bullet between its eyes. If they found it dead it would be as though he pulled the trigger himself. In the midst of the entire debacle, a satisfied smile crept across his face. It occurred to him that he might be as drunk on the whole messy state of affairs as if he were drunk on moonshine.