BYRONS FLAT. BEDROOM. EVENING. 1989. RACHEL is 20 years old. BYRON moves towards her on the bed and kisses her cheek. She draws away from him. Shaking...her head. She seems sad. Or maybe angry. BYRON sits silently. Wanting to understand. RACHEL (frowning): *Whats wrong?* BYRON (puzzled): *Nothing. What do you mean?* RACHEL gets up and turns her back to him while she undresses in the corner of the room. BYRON chews the inside of his cheek and watches her from the end of the bed. She folds her. "Whether it is or ain't, it's a good big fast horse and he breeds true pretty much. I'm sure you can find one you like at his place," he said."Thanks for that, and if you'll let me set my things down here, I'll unsaddle your horse and go see if I can find Silas. My name's Bill Jefferson, by the way." I'm Frank Johnston, Bill, and I'm pleased to meet you," he said, extending a big hand to shake.I shook his hand and then headed for what appeared to be a general store. When I entered I saw I'd. More

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