He didn't know that he wanted to go back, for that matter. With the sunlight flooding the wide plain, and both her two girls in bed with her, it was hard to feel as bad about herself as she had felt alone in the night. It seemed ridiculous, attacking men in the dark. Shoot him and let's ride.
He didn't talk about what had happened to her but treated her as he always had in Lonesome Dove. Now he had no one to trust her to except Roscoe Brown, who was only slightly less afraid of her than he would be of a Comanche. The next day he saw a dust cloud, which turned out to be a small cow herd. I'd say you're scared of women.
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