Chapter 24

Fort Carr lay before them on the far side of the Platte. Cassie's breath caught in her throat as they paused on the rise to look down at it—at the long, wooden bridge, at the cluster of rough-hewn barracks and cabins set in the swishing expanse of prairie grass, at the tepees of the friendly camp nestled off to the west. Drew was in the fort somewhere, waiting to take his daughter back and break Cassie's heart.

Blood and honor demanded that she return Meggie to her father. Yet as hard as she'd tried to prepare herself, Cass wasn't ready to say good-bye. She curled her arms more tightly around the child who rode before her in the saddle and pressed her cheek to Meggie's hair. Her eyes stung with tears she dared not shed as she breathed the scent of Meggie's little-girl sweetness and her little-girl dreams. Yet Cass had no choice about what she must do.

She straightened in the saddle, blinked away the tears, and eased her horse down the bank toward the fort.

The sentries stopped her at the near end of the bridge. "Halt!" the corporal of the guard called out, his rifle at the ready. "Dismount and state your business."

Cass swung down from her horse, taking care to leave Meggie in the saddle. "I'm Cassandra Reynolds. I've come to Fort Carr to bring Captain Reynolds his daughter."

The man shifted his gaze to the riverbank, to where the cottonwoods grew thick along the sides of the bridge. "You alone, Mrs. Reynolds?"

Cass's nerves began to hum. The corporal must suspect she and Meggie had been sent by the Indians as some kind of diversion.

"There are just the two of us, Corporal," she assured him, tightening her grip on the reins. "May we pass?"

"I'll escort you to the fort myself, ma'am. You're under arrest."

Cass spun and jabbed her toe into the stirrup, trying to mount her horse and spur away. The corporal was too fast for her. He caught her around the waist and flung her to the ground.

Meggie screamed. The horse began to dance.

Cass scrambled to her feet and felt the thump of the trooper's rifle barrel against her breastbone.

"Get the girl!" the corporal ordered, and the other sentries jumped to obey. One of the privates grabbed the horse's reins and a second dragged Meggie out of the saddle.

The little girl kicked and scratched, shrieking Cassie's name. The private cursed, and in spite of the gun pressed tight against her chest, Cassie turned.

"It's all right, Meggie," she shouted. "The man won't hurt you if you're good."

Meggie's struggles subsided. She hung clamped against the private's chest, dangling against his legs like a rag doll. Her face was splotched with tears. "They're going to make you go away," she sobbed, "just like Mama!"

"No, Meggie, no! I'll be fine. They're going to take you to your papa."

"I don't want to go to Papa. I want to stay with you!" Meggie wailed. "I want to take a rest with you!"

A rest. In spite of herself, Cassie laughed. This had to be the first time Meggie had ever volunteered to take a nap.

"You can take a rest back at the cabin. I'll come and lie down with you as soon as I can."

The burly private heaved Meggie onto his hip and started toward the fort.

"No!" Meggie yelled, twisting and kicking again. "No! I want to take a rest with Cassie!"

The trooper kept walking.

Once the private and Meggie had cleared the bridge, the corporal gathered up her horse's reins and prodded Cassie toward the fort.

"Will you tell me why I'm being arrested?" she asked him.

"Don't you know what you did, Mrs. Reynolds?"

"I rescued the captain's daughter from the Indians and came to bring her back to him."

The corporal snorted and spit. "Well, then, I guess the officer of the day will tell you what the charges are when we get to the guardhouse."

To the guardhouse. The air burned cold as hoarfrost in Cassie's lungs at the memory of visiting Many Buffalo in the close little cell. She'd be screaming by nightfall if they locked her up in there.

"And my husband?" she asked, her voice quivering just a little. "I'd like a word with Captain Reynolds."

The corporal snorted and spit again.

They started collecting a crowd the moment they stepped off the bridge. It was just like the day she'd been exchanged and ridden in with Drew. She remembered how she'd shuddered as the people and the buildings closed around her, how the sights and smells had made her head pound and stomach pitch.

It was worse today. She knew these people, their hatreds and their prejudices, their perfidy and their ruthlessness. She could hear their muttered threats and see the hostility in their faces.

Ben McGarrity stood on the steps of the headquarters building waiting for her. The corporal nudged her toward him with the barrel of his gun. She saw no sign of Drew, and Cass was suddenly grateful that Meggie wasn't with her now. Whatever was about to happen was far more daunting and dangerous than anything Cass had imagined she would face by coming here.

McGarrity looked down at her, his eyes weary and dark with something that looked very much like disappointment. "So you came to give yourself up, did you, Cassandra?" he asked her.

Cassie stiffened. "I came to bring Meggie to her father."

She heard the hiss of whispers around her and knew better than to discount their malevolence. A creep of foreboding inched across her shoulders.

"I didn't want to believe you could do this, Cassandra," McGarrity went on with a shake of his head. "I didn't want to believe you were in league with the Indians all this time. But three different troopers saw you during the attack on the Cheyenne camp. They said you were armed and dressed like an Indian. They told me you had Meggie with you. Surely that proves Drew's allegations."

Cass swallowed hard, her throat as dry as tinder. "His allegations?"

"That you abducted Meggie, for one."

Cassie's heartbeat stumbled. Was that what Drew thought? Was that what they had charged her with?

Before she could answer, McGarrity continued. "That you carried on illicit trade with the Cheyenne."

"I gave an Indian woman a few cans of milk so her sister's child would live!" Cass declared. "I swear that's the only contact I've had with the Cheyenne since I came here."

The furrows in McGarrity's brow deepened. "That you aided in the escape of Many Buffalo."

"Major, please!" Cass's voice rasped with the strain of trying to make him believe her. "I had nothing to do with Many Buffalo's escape."

"And most serious of all—that you sent word to the Cheyenne and Sioux about the munitions wagons."

The crowd's angry murmurs rose in a groundswell of curses and accusations. Around her she saw the somber faces of Parker's cavalry troopers, men who had lost their leader and their comrades in that fight. She saw thick-bearded muleteers scowling—three muleteers had died driving those wagons. She saw Lila, her eyes alive with blame for Josh's death. These people wanted the men who'd died avenged, and they sounded ready to hang her without so much as the courtesy of a hearing.

Ben McGarrity's face went grimmer still. "We also had reports that Jalbert was in the Cheyenne camp, that you've been in league with a murderer."

Cassie glared up at Ben McGarrity, her anger on Hunter's behalf overwhelming concern for herself. "Haven't you looked into what happened that night?" she challenged him. "Don't you know Hunter killed Tyler Jessup in self-defense?"

"So you have seen him. Drew figured you'd go looking for Jalbert when you ran off."

"Hunter helped me follow Meggie's trail."

"Follow Meggie's trail?" There was derision in the major's voice. "Don't you know the way to the Cheyenne camp?"

Panic churned hot in her belly. "Damnit, Ben!" she shouted. "Are you going to let me tell you what happened, or have you already condemned me?"

McGarrity looked down at her, his mouth narrowing with consternation and something that might very well have been regret. "What am I to believe, Cassandra? You admit to giving an Indian contraband, and then you help a horse thief escape. You pass word to the Sioux about the rifles. You were seen in the Cheyenne camp when the troops rode in. And now you've come back to the fort with the child you've been accused of abducting."

"I didn't take Meggie with me when I left. I never told anyone about the rifles. Please, Ben, just listen!" Cass's voice dipped and cracked with desperation.

Ben McGarrity's face hardened, like water glazing with ice. "You'll have ample chance to defend yourself at the hearing tomorrow."

Cass went on as if she had not heard. "If any of this were true, would I come back here? Would I have brought Meggie to her father?"

McGarrity just shook his head as if he were unspeakably weary and called her captor forward. "Corporal Hoskins?"

"Yes, sir."

"See that Mrs. Reynolds is removed to the guardhouse."

No-o-o! she wanted to moan. She wanted to plead with Ben not to lock her away, but how could she show her weakness in front of all the people who hated her?

As the corporal grabbed her arm, fierce, biting cold spread down her limbs. Spangles of white rose in her head like whorls of snow in the prairie wind.

But just as they turned, a rider appeared at the far end of the parade ground. He was a tall man astride a long-legged roan, a dark man with a clutch of eagle feathers tucked into the band of his broad-brimmed hat.

Hunter! Cass's hopes soared with a sudden elation, then swooped toward desperate fear. She jerked free of the corporal's grip and ran toward Hunter waving her arms.

"No!" she screamed at him. "Don't come here! Go back!"

Still, he galloped toward them. People scattered to make way, as Hunter pulled his lathered horse to a stop just short of the headquarters steps. The moment he swung out of the saddle, the guards swarmed over him, grabbing his arms, taking his weapons. He made no move to resist.

McGarrity looked stunned, like a man who thought he'd seen all life's surprises and was being proved wrong.

"Well, then, Mr. Jalbert," Ben greeted him. "Have you come to turn yourself in, too?"

The crowd edged closer, eager to hear Hunter's answer.

He glanced in her direction. "I came for Cass."

As if he thought Jalbert was about to snatch her away, Corporal Hoskins tightened his grip on Cassie's elbow.

"I know what you think she's done," Hunter went on, "and I came to tell you the truth."

"The truth," McGarrity huffed. "If you're so damned eager to tell the truth, you can do it at her hearing tomorrow. And while you're at it you can answer the charge of murder that's been lodged against you. Corporal Hoskins—"

"Goddamnit, Ben!" Hunter broke in, shaking off the guards. "Isn't Meggie here somewhere, confused and afraid? Even if she's with her pa, she's scared because she's losing Cassie. Can't we get the charges against Cass settled now, so she can go comfort that little girl?"

McGarrity cursed volubly under his breath.

Cassie watched him, her chest squeezed so tight she could barely breathe. Even if Ben gave them the chance to tell him the truth, could she and Hunter make him believe it?

McGarrity scrubbed agitatedly at his beard. "All right, goddamnit. Bring the prisoners into my office. I'll hear what they have to say—for Meggie's sake."

The crowd rumbled their disappointment as Corporal Hoskins and two guards prodded Cassandra and Hunter up the steps.

Once inside, Ben settled himself behind his desk. The office was a familiar room, close and overly warm, smelling faintly of cigars. Cass stood beside Hunter before the desk, knotting her hands to still their trembling.

"Now then." The major glared at both of them. "Start at the beginning—and this had better be good."

Cass explained about Meggie getting into Drew's paints, and the argument she'd had with him. She told him how she'd waited to say good-bye to Meggie, and how she'd discovered the child had run off.

"About five miles from the fort, I found signs that Meggie had been taken by a Cheyenne war party. I picked up their trail and started following it north."

Ben McGarrity's thick brows snapped together. "A war party that close to the fort? But if Meggie had been taken by Indians, for God's sake, Cassie, why didn't you come back to us for help?"

Cass thought about how she'd parted from Drew, about what would have happened if she'd told him Meggie had been captured.

"I almost did. Then, because they were Cheyenne, I decided to follow them on the chance I could explain who Meggie was and get her back. If I'd come here, Drew would have ridden those men into the ground. There would have been a fight, and Meggie could have been hurt."

McGarrity sat impassive, watching her.

"Hunter found me while I was tracking the Cheyenne," she went on. "He helped me follow the signs to Standing Pine's village. We were trying to negotiate Meggie's release when Drew's troops attacked."

"You're telling me there were two trails leading to the village?" he asked, incredulous. "Yours and Meggie's?"

"Two trails that ran together, but hours apart," Hunter offered quietly. "Any fool should have been able to see that. Who was tracking for Reynolds, anyway?"

"Bartell," McGarrity admitted with a scowl.

"Bartell!" Hunter gave a snort of derision. "He couldn't track a company of artillery through fresh snow!"

"Reynolds wanted him," McGarrity conceded.

Drew had picked Bartell to follow the trail, Cass realized, because he thought he could trust a white man.

"Well, there's one sure way to find out what happened," Hunter said. "Ask Meggie."

McGarrity's scowl deepened. "Jesus, Jalbert, how can I ask that little girl?"

"How can you refuse to talk to her with lives at stake?"

The major rubbed at his beard again and turned to Hoskins. "Bring Meggie Reynolds to me."

Cass all but wilted with relief. Why hadn't she thought to have Ben ask Meggie about what had happened? But then, she hadn't wanted Meggie involved any more than McGarrity had. This would give her a chance to see Meggie again, to hold her, and explain why she was leaving her with her father. But it also meant facing Drew. The thought of that sparked up a fire in Cassie's chest.

"Abduction, however," McGarrity was saying, "is not the only charge that has been leveled against you, Cassandra. There's the question of what you passed on to the Indians about the munitions wagons. Drew admitted he told you when they were leaving and what trail they meant to follow. And we know you've had contact with the hostiles."

Cass hung her head, the tattoo throbbing like a brand against her cheek. "I have no way to prove that I am innocent, nothing to give you but my word."

"That's not enough."

Cass shook her head in defeat. She had nothing else to say.

Beside her, Hunter was tugging on the thong of the medicine bag that hung around his neck.

"Perhaps I have the proof you need."

He spilled the contents of the small leather pouch onto his palm. Cass stared at the objects, bits of wood and stone and shell, feathers and beads. Hunter's sacred objects. Among them was a folded square of paper not much bigger than his thumbnail. He pulled it out, held it for a moment in his hand, then passed the paper to McGarrity.

"Where did you get this?" the major asked as he began to open the crisp, cream-colored stock.

"A friend of Cass's gave it to me in the Cheyenne camp."

"And how will this help?"

Hunter's arched brows rose. "I don't know."

McGarrity's head came up.

Cass turned to him in disbelief.

"One of the Cheyenne women gave it to me the night before the attack," Hunter confessed. "I believe that whatever she entrusted to me is all that Runs Like a Doe claims."

Cass swallowed around a knot of grief. Runs Like a Doe had proved to be a good friend to her, even in death.

As McGarrity unfolded the paper, they could all see what it was—the wrapper from around a can of Cathcart's beef. It bore the army's eagle stamp in one corner and Jessup's horseshoe in the other. McGarrity stared down at it.

"I don't see how this will prove anything except that this tin of beef came from Jessup's trading post."

"Is there something on the back?" Hunter prodded him.

Ben turned the paper over, and all three of them caught their breath. "There is a message here. It says, 'The wagons of rifles leave Fort Carr by western route Thursday morning.'"

"Is it signed?"

McGarrity nodded. "With that horseshoe symbol."

"It's from Jessup, then!" Cassie declared.

"Of course it's from Jessup," Hunter agreed. "Everyone shopped at his store. That's how Jessup knew everything that went on at the fort. Who can say what other information he gleaned and passed along to Red Cloud?"

McGarrity wasn't so easily convinced. "Where did Cassie's friend get this?" he wanted to know. "Where is she so that I can question her?"

"I don't know where she got it," Hunter answered. "Probably from one of the warriors."

"And she died in the attack on the Cheyenne camp," Cass added as the memory of that morning swirled through her head, of how she'd held her old friend's hand as she lay dying. Cass's head rang with the sounds of shouting and gunfire. She smelled the smoke, tasted the bitter salt of tears, and knew she was responsible for that death and destruction. She had brought it down on all their heads by going after Meggie.

Cass shivered, going cold down to her bones. McGarrity's office swam before her eyes. Her knees gave way.

McGarrity rushed around the desk and helped Hunter ease Cass into one of the chairs. He gestured for the guard to bring them water.

When she had drunk it down, Cass turned to where McGarrity was kneeling beside her. "Oh, Ben," she whispered, her voice quivering, "do you know what happened in that camp? It was like Sand Creek. The troops rode in at dawn and shot down everyone they saw. They started firing the tepees and killing the horses.

"As much as Drew hated Indians, that couldn't have been what he meant to happen. I saw him for just a moment in the midst of the battle. He seemed shocked by the carnage, appalled that he'd lost control of his men. It seemed as if he meant to stop the killing. Did he stop it, Ben? Was Drew able to stop it?"

McGarrity looked at her, his eyes unreadable. "You don't know what happened?"

Cass shook her head, a swell of foreboding pressing up beneath her ribs.

"Drew was killed."

"No," she whispered. The room wavered around her. "Oh, no."

"I'm sorry, Cassie."

She felt Hunter's hand come warm against her shoulder, offering her his compassion and his strength. She drew on it, trying to absorb what Ben McGarrity had told her.

Drew was dead, killed in battle perhaps only minutes after he'd loomed out of the smoke. Cass could scarcely take it in.

She covered her face with her hands and let the tears she had been holding inside for half her life spill free. She wept silently, as her years with the Indians had taught her to weep, crying for the boy she'd loved and lost so long ago, for the man so scarred by surviving that he could never free himself from the past. She cried for the years they'd lost and the dreams they'd failed to realize.

But even as grief for Drew tore through her, Cass recognized that she'd grieved for him before. She'd grieved and accepted his death and given Drew up. She would be able to do that again, with time and patience and regret. But before she could begin to accept his passing, she had to know how Drew had died.

She wiped away tears with her fingers and raised her head. Ben McGarrity was offering her his handkerchief, a crisp, pristine handkerchief that must be something Sally insisted he carry. Cass smiled up at him through her tears.

He seemed relieved that he could do that much for her. Some of the concern and helplessness that etched his broad, rough features smoothed away.

Cass mopped her cheeks and blew her nose. "How did it happen?" she finally asked him.

McGarrity hesitated for a moment, as if he were deciding what to tell her. "Drew managed to stop the fighting," he finally said, "but by the time he did, half the village was aflame and there were wounded and dead on both sides. Even then there was sporadic gunfire, and Drew took a ball full in the chest. It was over in an instant, Cass. He didn't suffer. It was how he'd want to go, in the field, living up to his honor."

Cass sat limp, lost, her thoughts drifting to days when she and Drew had made daisy chains and picked blackberries and waded in the stream. To a kitten Drew had given her, and the way he'd liked to watch the sunset from the hill behind her house. On days long gone but not forgotten.

While she sat remembering, the men were returning to other matters, the question of the note.

"How can I tell if the paper that Indian woman gave you is genuine?" she heard McGarrity demand of Hunter.

"You could take my word," Hunter answered, "or compare the writing on that note with something else."

"To Jessup's ledgers, maybe," Ben said almost grudgingly, as if he were angry at not thinking to do that sooner. "I've been taking a very close look at Jessup's ledgers."

McGarrity took a book from one drawer of his desk and opened it. All three of them edged forward as Ben laid the wrapper in the center of the page.

The same scrolled copperplate script tracked across both the wrapper and in the page of the ledger. Runs Like a Doe had done very well by her, Cass thought.

McGarrity looked up from the book and pinned Hunter with his gaze. "You figured Jessup was the one who sent word about the munitions wagons to the Sioux."

"I suspected," Hunter admitted, "but I needed proof. That's why I was in the store that night. It's there in the ledgers, isn't it?"

McGarrity nodded. "There are notations in his second set of books to make me suspect that Jessup had connections to Red Cloud. He caught you reading them, didn't he?"

"And came after me with an ax."

"So you're claiming you killed Jessup in self-defense." When Hunter inclined his head, McGarrity went on. "We have two witnesses who swear they saw you stab him in cold blood."

"Then both of them are liars," Hunter said simply.

McGarrity settled back in his chair. "Well then, maybe I should ask Lloyd and Grenville exactly what they saw that night. Private, is Corporal Hoskins back?"

"No, sir."

"Then you head on over to the sutler's store. Mr. Grenville and Mr. Lloyd are probably in the back. You tell them I want a word with them."

Cass let out her breath. The charges against her and Hunter were dwindling. Perhaps once Ben talked to Meggie, all of this would be settled.

But then, if Drew were dead, what would happen to Meggie?

As if he sensed her concern, Hunter smiled at her. She took comfort in that strong, uncompromising face, in eyes that shone the deep, dark blue of midnight skies. In spite of how she'd tried to thwart him, Hunter had come for her, come to protect her, to offer himself in her place. He would stand by her no matter what.

The sound of footfalls and cursing came from the headquarters' main room. The infantry private shoved the gamblers Grenville and Lloyd through the door of McGarrity's office.

"Mr. Grenville and Mr. Lloyd." The major rose to greet them and offer them chairs.

The two gamblers exchanged wary glances when they realized who else was in the office.

McGarrity waited until they were settled, then stalked out from behind his desk. "I have a few questions I'd like to ask," he said.

"Questions?" Grenville queried.

"Questions regarding the night some weeks ago when Mr. Jessup was killed. You remember that night, don't you?"

"Clear as day," Lloyd answered.

"Indelibly," Grenville added.

"Good," the major replied, standing over them. "And you remember Alain Jalbert, our hired scout. Was he the one you saw in Jessup's store that night?"

"The very man," Lloyd confirmed. "I tried to hold him for the guards, but he ran out on us. But then, we told you all this before."

"Yes, you did."

"We saw him murder Mr. Jessup in cold blood," Grenville volunteered. "Stabbed him with his knife, he did!"

McGarrity braced his hand against the chair back and bent close over Lloyd's shoulder. "Was Mr. Jalbert in any way provoked that night?"

"Provoked?"

"To do violence to Mr. Jessup? Did Jessup have an ax perhaps?"

"I—I'm sure there were a-a-axes in the store," Lloyd stammered. "Do you remember seeing a display of axes, Albert?"

"Certainly I do."

"Well, was Mr. Jessup using one?" the major went on.

"I didn't see any trees that needed felling," Grenville snapped, obviously pleased with the rejoinder.

Cass wondered how McGarrity was going to get these men to admit to what they'd seen. They had a reputation around the fort as a slick and wily pair. She glanced across to where Hunter stood braced against the wall, his attention focused on the major.

But all Ben McGarrity did was settle back on the corner of his desk and stare at the two men. He stared and stared. His presence and his silence seemed to expand to fill the corners of the room. He raised the temperature ten degrees just sitting there as impassive as a stone.

The men fidgeted, shifted in their chairs, and moved their feet. Lloyd ran a finger around inside his collar. Grenville ruffled like a bird whose perch had been disturbed.

Even Cass began to perspire.

Still, McGarrity didn't say a word.

"Well, maybe the two of them were fighting," Lloyd finally conceded.

"Then Jalbert didn't knife the sutler in cold blood?" McGarrity clarified.

"Maybe not exactly cold blood," the little gambler conceded.

McGarrity rose, looming over them. "Are you saying that Mr. Jalbert killed the sutler in self-defense?"

"Hell, Jalbert's a half-breed," Grenville burst out. "What does it matter if he was trying to defend himself? He killed a white man!"

A bright red flush crept into McGarrity's face. "It matters to me," he said so softly Cass could barely hear him. "Now, was Jessup's killing self-defense?"

"You might call it that," Lloyd admitted.

"So Mr. Jalbert was in the trading post trying to find proof that Jessup had been selling information to the hostiles when the sutler attacked him. Is that right?"

Lloyd and Grenville exchanged startled glances. Clearly neither had suspected Jessup of spying for the Sioux.

"I suppose it is," Grenville admitted.

"And Mr. Jalbert killed the sutler in self-defense?"

"I suppose he did," Lloyd agreed.

"Very well, then," McGarrity said around a heavy sigh. "If that's what you saw—Mr. Jalbert defending himself when he knifed Tyler Jessup—I want the two of you to write up an affidavit to that effect."

"You want us to clear the mixed blood's name?" Grenville all but choked.

"There's some that won't believe that," Lloyd warned in a more conciliatory fashion, "Mr. Jalbert being an Injun and all."

"Then I leave it to the two of you to convince them," McGarrity threatened. "And I want you to let folks here at the fort know that Jessup was the one sending information to the Indians, not Mrs. Reynolds."

When neither Lloyd nor Grenville answered, major McGarrity rose to stand over them. "Mr. Lloyd, I want your word on this, and God help you if I don't get it!"

"Yes, sir. I'll swear it was self-defense."

"Mr. Grenville?"

Grenville scowled. "I suppose we can let folks know about Jessup spying for the Sioux."

The weight on Cass's chest seemed to lighten.

The two gamblers rose to go, but McGarrity stopped them. "Oh, and gentlemen, I hope you manage to spread the word before you pack up and leave Fort Carr. I'm closing down your poker game. I'm sure you'll find some other sutler who'll welcome your talents and some other post commander willing to look the other way. But I won't, not anymore. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly, Major McGarrity," Lloyd answered.

"Exceedingly clear," Grenville agreed.

The gamblers slunk out.

McGarrity frowned at Cass and Hunter. "Well, I suppose I owe both of you an apology for thinking the worst."

"Does that mean you believe that Meggie Reynolds wandered off on her own?" Hunter asked, seeming to need the confirmation for Cass's sake. "And that Jessup was the spy?"

McGarrity nodded. "I need to speak to the child, but it will only be a formality. From the way she was yelling to be with you, Cassandra, I can't believe you've done anything to hurt her. As for the other charges—I think we can dispense with those now that we've discovered Jessup was in cahoots with Red Cloud."

There was the sound of voices in the anteroom, and Sally McGarrity and Meggie came into the office. The minute Meggie saw Cass, she ran into her arms.

"O-o-oh, Cassie," she wailed. "Sally said that Papa went away to be with Mama and with God, and I didn't think I had anyone left to be with me!"

Cass swept Meggie up into her lap, doing her best to absorb some of her fear and grief. "Oh, Meggie, I'm so sorry about your papa."

Meggie tightened her hold around Cassie's neck. "He was busy all the time," she whispered between sobs. "He didn't play with me much, but I love him. I don't want him to be gone away."

"I know, Meggie. I know." Cass held her and rocked her gently. "Sometimes in battles soldiers die. Ben says your father died very bravely. He died saving other people's lives."

The major came to kneel beside Cassie's chair. "Your papa was a good soldier and a valiant leader," he told Meggie softly.

Cass nuzzled against Meggie's neck. "Thank you, Ben," she whispered. "That's how Drew would want his daughter to remember him."

Ben stayed where he was, waiting patiently until the child quieted. "Meggie," he finally said. "There are some things I need to ask you. Is that all right?"

Meggie nodded and looked up, her fingers in her mouth.

"We were all worried about you when you ran away, especially your papa."

Meggie sniffed. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Were you afraid when the Indians took you?"

"They looked so mean."

"Were their faces painted?"

"Un-huh. Except the lady."

"What lady?"

"The one in the Indian camp. She was nice until the soldiers hurt her. But then Cassie came and got me."

Ben glanced up, distress in his face. He'd obviously pieced together what had happened. He shook his head, reaching across to stroke Meggie's sun-bright hair.

"What's going to happen now?" Hunter wanted to know.

Ben sighed and leaned back against his desk. "That's something we need to discuss. Sally—" He glanced up at his wife. "Would you mind taking Meggie back to our quarters?"

"No!" Meggie objected. "No, I want to stay with Cassie."

Sally cooed and patted and promised Meggie cookies.

"We'll be over as soon as we're finished here," Cass told her, and reluctantly Meggie agreed.

On their way out, Sally McGarrity paused in the doorway. "You do the right thing by this child, Ben," she told him, her soft, pretty face gone suddenly fierce, "or don't you bother coming home to me!"

When Meggie and his wife were gone, Ben eyed the two of them. "We need to talk about Meggie's future."

The grim tone of McGarrity's voice frightened Cass. She had been Drew's wife. She should be the one to take care of Meggie now, but Ben seemed to have other concerns.

"I don't think either Drew or his wife had any kin," Ben was saying when Cass looked up. "If they did, Drew would have sent Meggie back to the States long before this."

"Then what do you mean to do with her?" Hunter asked quietly.

She could see the concern in McGarrity's eyes. "Since you're not blood kin, Cassandra, regulations say I have to send Meggie back East, to Fort Leavenworth or to Jefferson Barracks at St. Louis, where they'll search for relatives and decide what's to become of her."

"Oh Ben! How can you send her away? I'm her mother!" Cassie cried. "I've been taking care of her these last six months."

"I know," Ben answered solemnly. "There will be a hearing. You'll have a chance to petition for custody."

All three of them knew how little chance they had of convincing a military panel to let them take Meggie and raise her as their own. They'd take one look at Cass's tattoo and know what she'd been through. They'd see that she'd been accused of spying and abduction. They'd look at Hunter, a half-breed scout who had fought for both the North and South, and make their decision. It wouldn't matter that the two of them loved the little girl, or that Meggie wanted to be with them. And if there were blood kin somewhere, they wouldn't even have a chance to ask for the little girl.

"Ben," Hunter said, his voice gone low, "let Cass take Meggie and leave today. You know how much she loves her. She's been more of a mother to Meggie than Drew ever was a father."

Cass glanced up at Hunter, gratitude swelling around her heart. Everyone Meggie had ever loved had been taken from her, her mother and Drew and now even Cass herself.

This was worse than losing Meggie to Drew. He had loved Meggie in his way and would have seen that she was adequately taken care of. There would have been Sally and Ben here at the fort to oversee things, and Lila to rock Meggie and pet her and hold her when she cried. But Cass couldn't let Meggie go back East, where she wouldn't have a soul who cared for her. She couldn't let that baby know that kind of loneliness, lovelessness.

"Ben, please." Cass's voice was raw with misery.

"I'm sorry, Cassie. This isn't what I want for Meggie, either, but my hands are tied. Even if I let you take her, how could you care for her? Drew didn't leave any money, only his clothes, a few household goods, and a portfolio of paintings."

"I'll take care of them," Hunter offered. "I have land up in Montana. I have plans to turn the place into a horse ranch, and I've saved nearly enough to buy some stock. If Cass agrees to marry me, we can give Meggie a home and a family."

"Damnit, Jalbert! I'm not authorized to make this kind of decision."

"Do it anyway." Hunter's eyes were dark, his voice rough-edged with emotion. "Do it because it's what's right. Do it because it will make Cass and Meggie happy."

McGarrity looked down at the floor. He looked at the two of them and heaved a sigh. "The army will have my head for this."

Cass shot to her feet, giddy and laughing. "Oh, Ben!" she cried and reached out to clasp his hand. "Thank you. Thank you. You've made us both so—"

Hunter gathered her up in his arms and hugged her hard.

McGarrity scowled. "I don't know how I'll ever explain this to General Crook in Omaha, much less to the War Department." Then abruptly his scowl became a smile, and he reached for his hat. "Oh, hell, I'll worry about them later. Let's go tell Meggie she's got a brand-new set of parents."

Meggie saw them coming the moment they stepped onto the parade ground. She bolted down the steps of the McGarritys' cabin and ran the length of officers' row, directly into Cassie's arms. Cass stood holding her, laughing and crying. Hunter pulled the two of them close against him.

Cass smiled at where Sally McGarrity had come to stand beside her husband. "Thank you," Cass whispered. "Thank you both for giving me everything I've ever wanted."

* * *

Late that evening Ben McGarrity dipped his pen and signed his name at the bottom of his report to the War Department outlining the incident at the Cheyenne camp. He'd labored over it for hours. He'd always had trouble justifying a mission that failed, one that had cost brave men their lives. One that, in this case, had robbed the army of as fine an officer as Drew Reynolds.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes, wondering if he could have changed the way it had all turned out. But Reynolds had come west with his prejudices intact. He'd seemed sincere in his desire to marry Cassie Morgan and accept responsibility for her when she'd been returned to the whites. He'd been determined to avenge the deaths of his family, whatever that cost him. Ben didn't know what he could have done differently. Still, every officer had his share of regrets. He just knew that giving Meggie Reynolds to Cass and Hunter wasn't going to be one of them.

Ben smiled when he thought how the three of them had looked as they'd headed off for Montana that afternoon. Jalbert had ridden tall and protective, obviously proud of his newly acquired family. Meggie was subdued by news of her father's death, but was obviously pleased to be riding up in front of the man who had taken her on as his own child. And then there was Cassandra—a bright new wedding band gleaming on her finger, her tattooed face aglow, her eyes filled with a happiness Ben had never expected to see in them. And now he'd done his best to ensure that no one would disturb the contentment they'd managed to find together.

Ben could hear Sally puttering around behind him in the cabin's kitchen, grinding beans and boiling up a final pot of coffee. He heard her pull out the cookie crock she kept tucked away, and smelled the dark, rich sweetness of molasses. She set the crock on the table and came to stand behind him.

"Have you found a way to make sure Cassandra and Alain Jalbert can keep Meggie Reynolds?" she asked him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing her cheek against his hair.

Ben tapped one finger on the page that lay on the table before him, indicating the paragraph at the end.

In spite of an intensive search of the village and the surrounding area, no sign of Meggie Reynolds was ever found. As with many of the whites who have been taken captive over the years, we may never know Meggie's fate. There seems to be no clue to her whereabouts, and I hold very little hope for her return.

Sally leaned around and kissed his cheek. "You're a very clever man, Ben McGarrity."

He turned and pulled his wife into his lap. "I've done my best—everything I can do to keep them safe."

"And they will be," Sally whispered, kissing him. "This is the way it was supposed to turn out."