Chapter
Seventeen


Caleb brushed down his horse, grateful for Wil Handel’s friendship. The Handel place was a good halfway point to and from town. He had stayed the night before on his way into town and would stay tonight and return home in the morning. It was not yet dark, but too late to go any farther.

Everyone at the meeting in town that day had been urged to join the Texas militia. The man Caleb had talked to about his problems with Hafer had suggested that any continued lawlessness would be more easily “tolerated” if he pledged himself to the militia.

It still angered Caleb that they thought they needed to bribe him into joining. If it came down to a war with Mexico, he would not hesitate to take part, nor would Tom. Of course he would join the militia, and he flatly told the man so, reminding him that he was one of the first settlers in Texas, that several members of his family were buried on his land. But Caleb had not missed the look in the man’s eyes, as though to tell Caleb that because he was an Indian he was going to have to try harder than any white man to keep what he owned, including proving his loyalty by joining the militia.

“When we declare war against Mexico, I’ll be riding with the militia,” Caleb told the man. “Right now you’ve got plenty of free men coming in to help. I have a ranch to run and a family to watch after.”

The looming fear of losing both ranch and family haunted him again. He didn’t like the attitudes developing in Texas and was glad that Sam Houston was still in charge. Houston’s popularity was growing every day, especially with Stephen Austin still in prison in Mexico City. Caleb liked Houston, knew by his eyes he was an honest man and by his past record he was a friend to Indians. Still, the changes in Texas only added to the uneasy feeling that plagued him since leaving San Felipe.

He walked out of the barn to see a rider coming. As the man came closer he recognized Jake Highwater, and his heart quickened with the urgency of the man’s hard ride and the way he paid no heed to Handel men who waved to him, except to stop and ask one of them if Caleb was there.

“Jake! Over here,” Caleb called out, walking quickly toward the man.

Jake rode up to him, his horse pushing dirt into little piles in front of its hooves as Jake drew it to a quick halt. The animal snorted and tossed its head, lather showing along its neck. “I hoped I’d find you here, Caleb. Bad trouble! A lot of the men have been killed and wounded. They took Tom—and Sarah!”

Caleb’s face visibly darkened with rage. “Who?”

“Hafer and his men. They came last night. Actually it was about two this morning,” the man panted. “They planned it out well, Caleb. We didn’t expect them to come so soon, or at that hour. They were looking for Bess, but Tom hid her behind the logs in the fake wall. They dragged Tom out—beat him and took off dragging him behind a horse. They took Sarah, too. They didn’t even let her get dressed first—took her in her robe and gown.”

Caleb’s blue eyes turned to a wild look the man had never seen in them. “Lynda? John and the babies?”

“The boy is okay, and the babies. They hit Lynda. They never found Bess. She’s okay, but she’s awful upset—thinks it’s all her fault—thinks you’ll blame it all on her.” The man’s eyes teared. “Goddamn, Caleb, they caught us sleeping. I never thought they would come back at us so soon. Some of them held Ada and my sons at gunpoint. There was nothing I could do.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Jake. We’ll get them back. There’s only one person to blame, and that’s Charles Hafer,” he hissed. “He will die for this!” He walked back to the barn to get his horse. “Go tell Wil what happened. We’ll leave right now—ride all night if we have to. Borrow a fresh horse from Wil. We’ll pick yours up later.”

Jake rode up to the house and Caleb went to the stall where his horse was bedded down. His thoughts spun wildly. What had they done to Tom? And Sarah? If any man touched her, he would die a slow, agonizing death.

Caleb reached home by noon the next day, nearly half the time it should have taken him. He jumped off his horse before it even came to a complete halt, ordering a man to take care of it and get a fresh horse ready.

He ran into the house. Lynda looked up from slicing some bread, and Bess sat in a rocker near the hearth holding Cale. Her brown eyes showed terror and sorrow, deep circles under them. She looked away quickly when Caleb entered, and Caleb went directly to Lynda, who reached out for him.

“They took him—dragged him,” she told him, breaking into tears. “And they took Mother.”

He hugged her tightly. “I’ll get them back.”

He pulled away, studying her bruised face, his fury almost unbearable. He put a hand to her face. “Sons of bitches,” he hissed. “Did they hit your mother?”

“No,” she sniffed. She held his eyes. “They said if you want Tom back alive and don’t want anything to happen to Mother, you’re to bring Bess to them by Friday noon. That’s the day after tomorrow. What should we do!”

“Don’t you worry. We’ll get them back.” He turned to look at Bess, who sat with her head hanging, rocking Cale.

“I should have come out,” she said quietly. “Tom told me … not to.” Her words broke as she also began crying. “They’re going to kill Tom. And it’s … all my fault.”

“You did the right thing,” Caleb told her. “If they had got you right away they would have killed Tom then and there. You’re our insurance.”

She met his eyes. “I’m sorry,” she wept.

“It isn’t your fault, Bess. You love Tom. There’s nothing wrong in that. And I’ll get him back—and Sarah.”

“Are you … returning me to my father?”

His eyes glittered with rage. “Never. I don’t need to trade you to take back what’s mine. But your father’s life isn’t worth much right now, Bess. I’m sorry.”

She sniffed and cuddled Cale closer. James came crawling toward his father, taking on a bright smile. Caleb went to him, picking him up and hugging him tightly. At least they hadn’t harmed the babies.

“That’s the first time he’s smiled this morning,” Lynda told him, wiping her eyes. “He’s been crawling all over the house looking for his mother.”

Caleb kissed the boy’s cheek, a lump in his throat. “She’ll be here holding him in no time at all,” he answered. He set the boy down. “Pack me a little food. I’m going to check on the men and see how many I can muster up.” He turned to leave.

“Father.”

He stopped and looked at Lynda.

“They’re waiting for you. Hafer wants you dead. He said since the Council doesn’t care how this is handled, he has free license to get rid of you.”

Caleb smiled bitterly. “Let him try. I’m sure there is a big bonus in it for him from Mister Byron Clawson if he succeeds. But Clawson is going to be sweating in his sleep for a long time when he finds out Hafer failed!”

John came rushing in then. “Pa!” He ran to his father and hugged him. “Pa, they took Tom! They beat him up bad. And they took Sarah—”

“I know all about it, John.”

The boy looked up at him. “You’ll get them, won’t you, Pa? You’ll get all of them for what they did.”

Caleb gently pushed him away. “That’s right, John. I’ll have Sarah and Tom back here in no time at all.”

“Can I go with you, Pa?”

Caleb shook his head. “Not this time. There will be too much shooting going on.”

“Rider,” someone shouted from outside.

Caleb and John went out, and Lynda went to the doorway. The day was going to be unusually warm for late January, but that sometimes happened. The early thaw was usually followed by more cold weather before the sun brought back the shimmering heat of a Texas summer. Lynda went to the open door and watched the rider approaching. Two of Caleb’s men rode beside him, and Lynda recognized Jess Purnell. Her eyes turned to cool slivers of hatred as she marched outside to face him.

“Liar,” she shouted at him. “Spy! You’re a stinking spy and a man who takes money for people’s lives!”

Caleb grasped her arm. “Get back inside!”

“He was here the day before yesterday—asking questions! He said he wanted to work for you, but he was only spying! He knew you were gone. Hafer sent him, I know it! They were all waiting to hear what Jess Purnell told them! They raided us that very night because Jess Purnell told them you were gone!”

“That isn’t true,” Jess shouted. “I came here to help you, Mister Sax. I can help you get your wife and son back. I know where they’re being held. Don’t ride in there blind.” The man looked weary and his horse was lathered, but Lynda failed to notice. Jess halted in front of the steps.

“You’ll lead my father into a trap,” Lynda shouted.

“I’m not doing any such thing!” Jess turned to Caleb, taking off his hat. “You’ve got to believe me! I’m here to help. I didn’t even know about the raid. I wasn’t there when Hafer left with his men. But I was already back by the time they rode in with your wife and son late yesterday. I left again right away to come and offer my help, but not before I saw where they put your wife and son. Can’t you see how hard I’ve been riding? My horse is about dead and so am I! I got here in half the time it should have taken.”

“It’s all a trick,” Lynda insisted.

“Lynda, get in the house,” Caleb repeated. “Now!”

She pressed her lips together in anger, glaring at Jess Purnell, who could see that a future with Lynda Sax looked dim indeed. She looked up at her father then. “Don’t trust him,” she glowered. She stomped inside and slammed the door. Caleb turned his attention back to Purnell.

“Explain your presence, Purnell. The mood I’m in right now, your life isn’t worth much!”

Purnell shifted in his saddle uncomfortably, as though he thought he might be shot. “I don’t like Hafer’s ways,” he told Caleb. “I came here day before yesterday to talk to you, but you were gone. I wanted to work for you, even if it was for less pay than Hafer’s.”

“Why?”

“I told you why. I can’t work for a man like Hafer any longer.”

“Any other reason?”

The man reddened slightly, then turned defensive. “Yeah,” he answered, straightening. “I didn’t like your daughter thinking I was an Indian hater. I’m not.”

“What do you care what my daughter thinks?” Caleb’s eyes drilled into him. He knew. The man was very discerning and Jess knew the best way to deal with Caleb Sax was straight on.

“I care because I care about her personally. I could see that would get nowhere as long as I worked for Charles Hafer. So I came to work for you. I really didn’t know anything about that raid. Hafer doesn’t even know I came, and he doesn’t know I’m here now. I can work both sides, Sax. I can go back and help you from the inside, don’t you see? You need a man who knows where they are and knows the layout of Hafer’s place. I’m that man. Let me help you. After I help you get back your wife and son, you can give me a job, or you can kick me out, whichever you choose. But I want to help.”

Caleb studied him intently. There had always been something in the man’s eyes he liked and trusted. “Get down off your horse.”

Jess obeyed, stepping up closer to Caleb, feeling a shiver at the look in the man’s eyes.

“You cross me, Purnell, and your guts will be greeting the sun but your eyes won’t because you won’t have any! You understand what I’m saying?”

The man swallowed. “I damned well do.”

“Don’t trust him, Caleb,” Jake spoke up. “It’s a trick.”

“We don’t have a hell of a lot of choice,” Caleb returned. “The man is right. We need an insider.” His eyes never left Purnell as he spoke, lowering his voice again. “If you prove yourself, you have a job. But my daughter is off limits to even a grin if she doesn’t want you near her. You understand that, too?”

Purnell nodded. “You didn’t have to tell me that.”

Caleb’s hand fidgeted nervously with the handle of the big blade he wore on his belt. “We don’t have much time. What’s Hafer’s layout?”

Purnell looked relieved. “He’s expecting you to come charging in there with an army. Why not sneak in quietly, you and I, in the night with just a few men. I can take you straight to where they’re holding your son and wife.”

“It’s a trick, Mister Sax,” another of Caleb’s men spoke up. “It’s a good way to get you over there alone. Then they’ve got you.”

“I say we string this one up right now,” still another put in. “Hafer’s payin’ him to do this.”

“I think your daughter is right, Mister Sax. Don’t trust him,” Jake said.

Caleb held Purnell’s eyes through all of it. “All right,” he told him. “But before we leave, we set Hafer’s nice new barn on fire. That would distract their attention and buy us a little more time.”

“All right then. We get Tom and Mrs. Sax away, then set the barn on fire. That will obviously attract their attention, and confuse them. They won’t know right away your son and wife are missing. When you spot Hafer, he’s yours. The rest of the men we bring with us will take care of the others. The key is to get your wife and son out first so they won’t be in danger. I can help there. I can go back first. I’ll get there by tomorrow afternoon. I’ll try to get Hafer to let me keep guard tomorrow night. If he won’t, I’ll wait till dark and take care of whoever is put on duty so that I can be there myself. Take me inside and I’ll draw you the layout so you know where to come in. The most important thing is to be as quiet as possible and to get Mrs. Sax and Tom out of there before all hell breaks loose. Like I say, they’ll be looking for a mob of men, not just a few.”

Caleb’s blue eyes looked him over carefully. Purnell was a handsome man, strong and hard, shorter than Caleb but powerfully built. Again he saw only sincerity in the man’s eyes. “Come inside.” He turned and the two went inside.

Lynda’s eyes widened in surprise, then turned to blue pools of hatred. “Why are you letting that man in our house?” she demanded.

“He’s going to help us get your mother and brother back.”

“Help us! Father, have you gone crazy? He works for Charles Hafer.”

“He did. Now he works for me.”

“Father—”

“I trust him, Lynda,” Caleb interrupted. “You’ve been through a lot. Don’t make me raise my voice to you.”

Her eyes teared and she turned away. Caleb handed Purnell a piece of paper and a quill pen. “Show me the layout,” he told the man.

Purnell took the paper and started drawing, and Caleb looked at Lynda. “Why are you doing this? You’ll be killed,” she said in a shaking voice.

He shook his head. “I have been through too much to be easily fooled, Lynda. I think Purnell is telling the truth. Besides, I don’t have much choice. If I ride in there blindly, I might not find your mother and Tom. They could be in any of the buildings. It could be a wasted raid, and by then Hafer would know I don’t intend to return Bess and he’d go ahead and kill Tom—maybe Sarah, too, if not something worse. Mr. Purnell knows that either way his life is in danger. If he’s actually against us, his life is on the line from our side. If he’s helping us, then it’s Hafer who will be after him. But if we handle this right, there won’t be a Charles Hafer to worry about.”

He heard a sniffle from the fireplace where Bess still sat. His heart went out to her. She was a tenderhearted girl, whose heart was badly bruised by the conflict between her love for her father and her husband.

“Here you go,” Purnell spoke up. He handed Caleb the paper and Caleb took it over to Bess.

“Does the drawing look right to you?” he asked the girl.

Jess met Lynda’s eyes while Bess studied the drawing. Again, in spite of her sureness that Jess Purnell was only tricking her father, Lynda felt the odd magnetism, the strange stirring as his gentle blue eyes seemed to plead with her to believe him. But how could she? It all made so much sense, him being there just before the raid. And everyone knew how well Hafer paid his men. She stiffened, glowering at him.

“How much are you being paid by Hafer to trick my father into coming over there alone?” she sneered.

Purnell rose, sighing deeply. “Ma’am, I wish I knew how to make you believe me. I guess the only way is to come back with your mother and brother.” He could not help scanning her sultry beauty once more. “If it had been you they took, I might have been crazy enough to try to get you out on my own.”

She felt color going to her cheeks and it only angered her more. “And why would you do that, Mister Purnell?” she sneered. “To rape me and then sell me to outlaws? Indian women don’t bring a lot of money, Purnell, even the young ones.” She tossed her head. “When this is over and my father realizes you’ve tricked him, you’ll be a dead man!”

She whirled and stormed through a curtained doorway into the bedroom. Purnell turned to look at Caleb, who took the drawing from Bess.

“In case you haven’t noticed, my daughter speaks exactly what is on her mind,” Caleb told him, walking back over to the table.

“I noticed.”

Both men grinned a little as Caleb laid the drawing on the table. “Bess says this looks right to her. Where are they holding Sarah and Tom?”

Jess pointed to a shed not far from the barn. “There. It’s locked and a man stands outside it. I’ll try to be that man.”

Caleb folded the paper. “How bad is my son hurt?”

Purnell’s eyes showed their concern. “Pretty bad. They beat him pretty good first, then dragged him. He’s torn up real bad. I don’t think he can walk. We’ll have to carry him out.”

Bess broke into renewed tears at the horror of it. Poor Tom! All for her! She should have stayed on the boat and gone to St. Louis. Then none of this would have happened to him.

“All right,” Caleb was saying. “I’ll take him on my back. You help my wife if she needs it.”

Purnell nodded. “If it helps any, I reckon Hafer’s not a rapist, Sax. He’s nothing more than a once-peaceful man whose head has been turned by money. He won’t really hurt your wife, but he’d have Tom killed if he got Bess back. As far as the other men, I don’t know.”

The room seemed close with anger and revenge. “We have no time to waste. I’ll have my men fix you up with a fresh horse. You leave right away. Can you manage a ride back?”

“I’ll have to. But I can’t be seen on one of your horses.”

“I have a couple that aren’t branded yet—some mustangs we’ve trained but never branded. Take one of those. Just mix it into Hafer’s remuda when you get there. In the short time this will all take, the horse won’t be noticed. But won’t they wonder where you’ve been?”

“Yesterday and today were my days off. There’s a Mexican camp not far from us where the men go sometimes.” He glanced at the curtained doorway to see Lynda peeking out at him. She quickly turned away and Jess grinned to himself. “I’ll tell them I was over there and was with a woman I didn’t want to leave. They’ll believe that.”

Caleb nodded. “Good excuse.” He would have joked about it if the situation were not so serious, but right now he could find no humor in anything.

Lynda came walking back into the main room, looking at no one as she went to the kitchen area, her back to them. Jess sensed he had just stirred something in her.

“I appreciate how hard this has been on you, Purnell,” Caleb told him. “If you’re on the up and up and this plan works, I will pay you well, and you’ve got a job here.”

Lynda slammed down a spoon and whirled. “Father, why are you trusting this man?”

“Because I’ve been around long enough to know who to trust and who not to trust,” Caleb answered. “And right now I don’t have a whole lot of choice.”

She turned cold blue eyes to Jess Purnell.

Jess picked up his hat. “I think I take back what I said about rescuing your daughter if she had been the one taken, Mister Sax,” he said, his voice sounding his irritation and his eyes never leaving Lynda’s. “I think in that case it would have been Hafer men who’d needed rescuing. Pity the poor man who crosses that one!” He put on his hat and exchanged a look of understanding with Caleb, who had to smile then in spite of the situation.

“I’m inclined to agree with you, Purnell.”

“Father!” Lynda pressed her lips together in anger and turned back around.

“Let’s go,” Caleb told Jess. They walked outside. Caleb was tired—bone tired from his ride back from San Felipe, and he knew Jess Purnell had to be just as tired. But there was no time for resting now. Tom and Sarah were in trouble. They were depending on him, and on Jess Purnell.

The night was cold but Caleb wore no heavy coat. He wore only his buckskins to give him more freedom of movement. He was too full of hatred and vengeance to feel the outer elements. Silence, stealthiness, timing—that was all that was important.

Purnell should have arrived at Hafer’s place earlier in the day. Caleb and his men had taken their time, coming in from several different directions and at different times all through the day and night, each man taking a post out of sight, hiding as only Indians could hide.

There would be no “Sax army.” There would be only Caleb and five Sax men, who would silence what guards they spotted with quiet arrows. That was Caleb’s advantage. Most of his men were Cherokee. He chose only the ones who still knew how to use a bow so that no shots would be fired. One by one guards went down without a sound as their predators crept ever closer, secretly surrounding the stone house and the outbuildings by nightfall.

They were blessed with a dark night. Clouds covered the moon. A few lanterns were lit around the outbuildings. Caleb kept to the shadows, his moccasined feet making no sound as he made his way toward the shed, where another lantern hung. He was relieved to see that Jess was standing at the door. This was the moment of truth. He gave out a call that sounded like a night owl. Purnell turned at the sound of it, cradling his musket in his arm. He removed his hat and scratched his head, the signal he was to use to tell Caleb it was all right to come in. He turned and unlocked the door to the shed.

“You all right, Mrs. Sax?” Caleb heard him ask. He carried the lantern inside so that it was dark outside the shed. Caleb made his move, darting through the darkness, then scratching on the door. It opened, but Caleb could see nothing. Purnell had blown out the lamp.

“Damned lamp went out,” he said loud enough for anyone close to hear, so no one would wonder why there was suddenly no light. He quickly pulled the door shut as Caleb ducked inside. Purnell lit the lamp again and Sarah gasped when she saw Caleb. He put fingers to his lips, then rushed to her and grabbed her up, hugging her tightly. “Tell me they didn’t touch you,” he whispered.

“I’m all right,” she answered. “Mister Purnell kept away one man who’s been bothering me.”

Caleb released her and turned to Jess, who gave him a steady look. But the rescue wasn’t complete yet. Caleb would save his judgments for a more convenient time. His eyes moved to a cot on which Tom lay moaning.

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned. He left Sarah, bending over his son, whose skin was torn like old cloth that had become too thin. Blood stained the sheets around him, and his face was grotesquely swollen, his ribs showing purple and black bruises. The long underwear he had been wearing had been ripped off when he was dragged and a sheet was draped over him. His legs and buttocks were bloody and scabbed.

“There was nothing I could do for him but talk to him and assure him you’d come,” Sarah whispered, tears wanting to come again. “It was so horrible, Caleb. They wouldn’t bring me any water or salve or bandages.”

Caleb looked at her with watery eyes, and she could see him shaking with rage. He swallowed before speaking. “We’re getting both of you out of here. Purnell is helping us. You can trust him. I’ll carry Tom. When we move, move fast and don’t ask questions. Can you run if you have to?”

She nodded. He looked at Purnell. “Let’s go.” He leaned over Tom, gently wrapping the sheet around him. The young man groaned when Caleb lifted him. The last thing Caleb wanted to do was hurt him more, but there was no choice. He hoisted Tom over his shoulder and Jess blew out the lamp and grasped Sarah’s hand.

“Hang on to me,” he told her.

Both men ducked outside, then ran into the darkness, Tom grunting and groaning in agony, barely aware of what was going on. Caleb stopped and let out several coyotelike yips, and minutes later one end of the brand new barn began to glow with fire. Sarah followed Jess Purnell blindly through the darkness, while behind them the barn fire grew bigger, and more Hafer men went down with silent arrows in them.

“Stop here,” Caleb told Purnell. He laid Tom down gently in the grass. “Watch them. I’ll be back.”

“Caleb,” Sarah gasped. “Where are you going?”

“I have some unfinished business with Charles Hafer.”

“No! Caleb, don’t go back there!”

“I’m just going to give him a good warning,” he told her quickly. “He’ll never bother us again after tonight.”

He disappeared. Now a few shots could be heard, as well as a lot of shouting, as men rushed to stop the barn fire. Sarah held her stomach, whispering Caleb’s name.

“Don’t worry, ma’am. Those men will be right busy with the fire,” Purnell told her. “Mister Sax will be all right. The horses aren’t far from here. I’ll take Tom now. We fixed up a sort of hanging bed between two horses—tied a blanket between them to lay Tom on. If the man waiting for us and I can ride in rhythm, we can give him a more comfortable ride home than trying to put him on a horse.” He bent over and picked up Tom, who cried out with pain. “Come on. There’s a horse for you, too.”

Sarah stood frozen in place. Purnell could see the look of panic in her eyes, lit up by the growing barn fire. He knew she was terrified to leave Caleb.

“We’ve got to get moving, ma’am. That’s why we set fire to the barn—to distract them.”

“I can’t leave yet.”

“You’ve got to, ma’am. Come on now. It’s your husband’s orders. If you want to help him, do like he says. Every minute you wait, the more dangerous it is.”

Sarah turned reluctantly. She couldn’t prolong Tom’s chance for help. She followed Purnell into the darkness, her heart aching for poor Tom who groaned with every step. Suddenly Purnell halted. “Get down,” he told her. Sarah ducked and Jess laid Tom down on the ground again. Sarah could hear voices.

“Who the hell are you?” someone shouted.

“Hafer men,” Jess said quietly to Sarah. “Must have missed them in the dark. They’ve found my partner.”

“I’m just camping here,” she heard a man reply.

“Camping? You a Sax man? What the hell is going on?”

Purnell charged forward and Sarah could hear scuffling and a muffled gunshot, then two more shots. Moments later Jess returned. “Come on.” He picked up Tom and seemed to be grunting as though in pain himself.

“Are you all right?” Sarah asked.

“I’ve been shot. No time to stop and see how bad. Let’s get you and Tom the hell out of here.”

She followed, stumbling over a body when they reached the horses. She fought an urge to cry out. Here she was riding off into the darkness with a wounded Hafer man and her husband was behind them and in great danger. Now she was tripping over dead bodies. She shivered with the cold.

“Come on, Mrs. Sax,” a man told her, lifting her onto a horse. He draped a blanket around her legs. “It’s me—Jake.”

She recognized the voice and felt more relieved. “Jake! Are you all right?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He moved to help Jess lay Tom on the special blanket. Jess mounted up with great effort. Jake mounted his own horse. “We can’t go too fast,” he told Purnell. “But faster than if he was on a travois. Let’s get out of here. Boss’s orders.”

“Right,” Purnell replied.

“You gonna make it?”

“We’ll find out.”

“Hey, thanks, Purnell,” Jake said. “You weren’t lying.”

“Yeah. Tell that to Lynda,” Jess gasped in pain.

They rode off.

Between the main house and the barn, Hafer men were running in every direction, some trying to rescue horses and cattle inside the barn, others trying to form a bucket brigade from the well to the barn to try to put out the fire. But all could see it would be useless. Most suspected a Comanche raid because their men had been killed with arrows.

Charles Hafer ran around cussing, yelling something about “goddamned Comanche” with every other word. He fumed that they had “got the woman,” and how the men had better get that fire out.

“I don’t think it was Comanche, sir,” one man hollered back. “I think it was Caleb Sax.”

Hafer’s eyes widened and he looked around. Sax! It couldn’t be! Where were all the Sax men? He had expected a major fight.

Several yards away two men approached Caleb from behind as he neared Hafer’s house. Caleb turned at the last minute, kicking a rifle from one man’s hands and lashing out at him with his knife.

“Hey!” the other shouted, able then to see Caleb by the light of the roaring barn fire. “He’s here! Caleb Sax is here!”

But there was too much confusion for anyone to notice. Caleb lunged into the second man before he could fire his rifle, knocking him to the ground. He quickly rammed his knife blade into the man’s stomach.

The first man got to his feet then. Unable to get to his rifle in time, he kicked Caleb in the ribs while Caleb was still bent over the second man. Caleb rolled over with a grunt, his knife still stuck in the second man. The first man came at him and Caleb kicked out from a prone position, catching the man hard in the chest and knocking the breath out of him. He fell backward and Caleb stumbled to the second man, yanking out the knife.

The first man found his musket and fumbled with it, turning it on Caleb. But Caleb slashed out with the knife again, cutting deeply into the man’s arms, desperate to keep the gun from being fired. The man cried out and dropped it. Caleb shoved his knife into its sheath and picked up the rifle, slamming its butt across the side of the Hafer man’s face to silence him.

He crept closer then, praying Sarah was well on her way away from Hafer land. He watched Hafer from the shadows. The man was fuming, telling in graphic detail what he intended to do to Caleb Sax when he got his hands on him—and what he should have done to Sarah and Tom.

“We’ll get your daughter, Mister Hafer,” one of the men assured him.

“Over the dead body of every Sax family member,” the man growled. He headed for his house. “I’m going to finish dressing and we’re riding to the Sax ranch.” He stormed inside, wearing only his long underwear and a robe. He kicked over a chair in anger, unaware of the dark shadow that followed him inside.

The door was suddenly kicked shut, and the house was lit only by the glow of the barn fire. Hafer whirled at the sound of the slammed door, his eyes widening at the sight of Caleb Sax, standing there looking like a true savage, half-naked, painted, his eyes cold and wild. His hand rested on his knife.

“Just a neighbor come to visit,” Caleb sneered.

Hafer’s eyes moved to a musket resting nearby in a corner. “What do you want, Sax? My God is this—you planned this!”

“That’s right. Now maybe you understand you can’t get away with hurting my family, and you know how easily I can sneak up on you and kill you. I would dearly love to do that, Hafer. Ordinarily your life would be worth nothing right now. It’s only because of Bess that I’m not going to kill you, but you’ll by God remember never to come near my place again!”

He landed into the man, knocking him back against a chair. The chair flipped out from under Hafer and went flying as the two big men tumbled on the floor. In Caleb’s rage, Hafer didn’t have a chance. Caleb’s fist pummeled into him over and over—into his stomach, his chest, his face, his kidneys. Every blow was stunning, and it was all Caleb could do to keep from taking out his blade and doing what he really wanted to do, which was to let his Indian side loose and cut the man from his belly to his throat. Tom! The memory of how his son looked, how horribly he’d been tortured, it all brought extra force to his fist as again and again he battered Charles Hafer. They crashed about the room, while the men fighting the fire outside had no idea what was happening in the house.

Finally Caleb managed to force himself to stop the beating. He pulled out his blade, holding it against Hafer’s cheek as he shoved the bleeding man up against a wall. “This is the last warning you’ll get, Hafer! There won’t be a second chance. You come near my place or any of my loved ones again, and you’ll die—slowly! It’s as simple as that!”

Caleb let Hafer loose and Hafer slid down the wall to the floor. Caleb stood staring at him, fingering the knife. His hands ached and bled and some of his knuckles were alread swelling. He backed away then, and the house glowed from the fire outside. He turned to leave the back way when he heard a click. He whirled to see Hafer pointing a small pistol at him. A little table lay overturned nearby, its drawer open.

You’re the one who’s going to die, Sax,” Hafer slurred through bloody, swollen lips.

Caleb quickly ducked aside as the pistol was fired, its orange flame showing bright in the dark room. The ball whizzed past Caleb, and it was all the provocation Caleb needed. His knife was still in his hand. Hafer scrambled to try to get up and run, realizing he’d missed. But a strong hand grabbed his arm, and quickly Hafer felt the knife’s thrust in his chest and knew what a grave mistake he’d made agreeing to work for Byron Clawson. All the money in the world wasn’t worth this.

“It could have been so easy, Hafer,” Caleb sneered as the man’s dying body slipped away from him. “All you had to do was give up, come and see your daughter, and give her your blessing. You sold yourself out, you fool!”

The man fell to the floor. Caleb jerked out his knife and wiped it off on Hafer’s robe, then shoved it back into its sheath and left the back way. No one saw him.