For a moment, just a moment, Carlos is the center of the older woman's attention.  Her hostile, angry, fearful attention, as if being at his mercy is somehow a fate worse than death.  Then the moment passes and she shuts her eyes, nods, tries to roll onto her side to give him better access to the ropes.<br/><br/>"Sorry about your friend," she manages, the words much softer than anything she said to Alex.  "Reckon he went out swingin'.  That's something, ain't it?  One of you goin' after my boy, or you gonna wait for him to get over it?"