Jim narrows his eyes as he inhales from that fag between his lips, stony gaze settled on Jay.

Samuel Barlow rubs at his eyebrow absently with his thumb. "Neighbors," he offers, by way of explanation. "You'll ride out with me come mornin' to check on that fence."

He doesn't offer any further elaboration than that.

"Where the hell'd you get that colt?" asks Jim.