Chapter One

“These girls should do very well.”

The Mexican woman whose name Snake Eyes never knew grabbed the rope tied around each girl’s neck and jerked them around and off to the back of the cantina. Her one eye gleamed as she pulled them along. She cursed them just because she could. Their wails and sobbing tore at his ears until the thick wooden door at the end of the long hallway slammed shut. He knew what the girls were in for; his men had broken them in on the long trip to Mexico.

Marlon “Snake Eyes” Roberts came by his nickname honestly. Anyone looking at him would see no humanity behind his black eyes. Six feet tall, 200 pounds, he came from a family with money and influence. But no love.

Now, he closed his eyes to the terror shining in the little girls’ eyes as they were dragged away. Just like always, the relief he felt once the girls he caught were delivered flowed through his chest. The crying and wailing he endured during the days he’d transported them from the Texas panhandle to this town in Mexico were finally over. Maybe I can sleep tonight. For sure I will if I drink enough of this tequila.

The man sitting with him at the scarred wooden table poured another two fingers of the tequila into a tin cup and slid it across the table to Snake Eyes. “You always bring us such fresh young girls, Snake Eyes. Where do you find so many?”

Snake Eyes flicked his lifeless eyes up from the table top to meet the man’s gaze. For a moment, he just held that gaze steady without blinking. He found this to be intimidating to most people. He liked that. He didn’t like people asking him personal questions. But this man paid him well for the girls he brought.

He lifted his gaze from the man to the room around him. Adobe walls, a long bar along one wall, a few tables with rickety chairs scattered around the area in front of the bar. Low ceiling, lamps hanging from wooden beams gave off pale yellow light even in the daytime. The rough planks that formed the floor needed sweeping as he figured they did every day with the dust blowing in the open door to the street outside.

“There are a lot of isolated ranches everywhere,” he replied in his surprisingly high voice. “Lots of ‘em have young girls. It’s not hard to pick up one or two as I ride along.” He lifted the tequila to his mouth, sipped it slowly. “It helps to have someone scouting for those kinds of ranches, too.”

The other man nodded. Both were quiet while they drank for the next few minutes. Snake Eyes felt the tequila warming his belly, relaxing him. Last night had been a long one for him. The nightmares that plagued him came again, this time especially bitter. After the third one, he stayed awake. Gradually, he began feeling better with the tequila warmth spreading through his body. He sat back, took in a deep breath, let it slip out between slightly parted lips.

Snake Eyes’ education showed in his demeanor and manner of speech. It also prompted him to wonder if the nightmares came from what he did for money. Most of the time, he didn’t remember any of the content of the terrible dreams, just the great weight of fear they left behind.

At times, he wondered whether his business was the source of the nightmares. After all, he stole people, usually children, but also women, and sold them. For sure that caused some fear and mourning for those left behind. But he didn’t think about that. After all, those who he stole the children from should’ve watched them closer. And the women knew the risk they took moving out away from everybody. Always wanting to be independent, to make it on their own, to tame the wild land and make it theirs. Well, Snake Eyes showed them there are some things that can’t be tamed.

Besides that, the business paid well.

Daddy would be proud. I found something I’m good at that makes me a lot of money. Just like he did.

“Tired?” The man across from him raised one eyebrow in question. This man had been a good customer for Snake Eyes for several years. He paid well and always in either gold or greenbacks.

Brought back from his reverie, Snake Eyes nodded. With his left hand, he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Come with me,” the man said as he rose from the table. “I have just the girl who can help you relax.”

Ordinarily, Snake Eyes didn’t have anything to do with prostitutes, but the warmth of the tequila and the stress of getting the girls there left him wanting something. He nodded, stood, and followed the man down the hallway.

They turned into a room halfway to the end of the hall. Inside, a pretty blonde girl wearing almost nothing stood from the narrow bed where she’d been sitting. “Graciella will help you.” The girl was probably no more than 14 or 15 years old. She stood in the middle of the small room, hands clasped in front of her, eyes wide, breath coming in little gasps lifting the small breasts nearly out of the thin gown she wore.

As soon as Snake Eyes laid eyes on the girl, his mind flooded with memories of another young whore. The one who caused his first killing. Snake Eyes didn’t remember her name, but he did remember the man bursting into the room where he and the whore were lying on her bed. She was no older than this girl at the time. The other man wanted an exclusive relationship with the girl. Snake Eyes didn’t care, except that he didn’t like the man. When the door burst open, Snake Eyes rolled off the woman, grabbed his pistol from the wash stand, and shot the man. He fled the room in only his long johns.

Later, he heard the man wasn’t armed, so he faced a murder charge. Knowing his father couldn’t pay his way out of that charge, he stole the cash his father kept in their home and fled west.

Another memory flashed into his mind behind his eyes. Another young whore in some small town in Kansas. She, too, was about the age of the girl in front of him. She, too, had blonde hair. The two of them fled the little town in the middle of the night. For the next month, they drifted from town to town. The girl plied her wares to pay their way.

Ultimately, Snake Eyes tired of her. Tired of knowing she’d been with other men. Many other men. And complained that she did so, over and over again. They fell in with some bad men who made their living stealing and selling people. That gave Snake Eyes an idea. In the Texas panhandle, he sold the whore to a band of Comanches. In his dreams, he still heard her screams as he rode away from their camp.

“No,” he told the man now. “Not her. You got somebody older?”

For a moment, the man just stared at him. Then, “Si, just across there.” He motioned with one hand to the other side of the wide hallway.

The woman across the hall occupied a tiny room just like the one with the young whore. She was probably in her middle 20s, looked much older. She knew her trade very well.

Snake Eyes rode away an hour later, feeling a bit more relaxed. But in a short while, unwelcome thoughts returned.

Only one or two more trips and I’ll have enough to get away. California or Oregon, maybe. Some place they don’t know me, haven’t heard of me, and don’t care. All I want is to live on the money I’ve made, maybe buy some little business where I can sit in a chair and watch somebody else work.

But now I’ve got to get back to Rodriquez and get this next sweep going. This may be the last one. Yes, I think it will be. Just a few more women to sell here in Mexico.

Then I won’t have to hear those brats crying and sobbing all night long.

Chapter Two

“Edward! I don’t want to talk about this again!”

Tess Brannon McCaslin felt her heart thumping against her ribs as she turned slowly around to face her husband, Edward. She struggled to keep her expression as neutral as she could in spite of the mounting frustration inside her. She turned from him back to the stove and finished slicing the bacon into the black iron skillet.

That kitchen was her favorite part of the main house, except for the large front porch. She decided to make what had once been a parlor into her kitchen. Located on the side of the main house, it had its own smaller porch and back door to everyone at the ranch would have access to her when she was needed. For years, several of those years before Edward entered the picture, Tess ran the ranch from that kitchen. She’d even run off a bear that wandered into the ranch yard one spring. Before Edward came along, she even helped with the branding during the fall round-ups. But once he was there, he insisted she not participate directly in the work around the ranch.

Tess didn’t mean to sound so sharp with him, but she grew really frustrated with Edward when he continued on and on about this particular topic.

“But, Tess, this is something we need to get settled.” Edward McCaslin stood only a few inches taller than his wife, but always had the unsettling feeling of looking up to her. That’s why he always tried to stand in her presence. At least then others could see he was taller.

His voice was a rich baritone that intrigued Tess when he’d come courting. More recently, it began grating on the few nerves she had left where he was concerned.

She half-turned to glance at him over her shoulder. When she did, she caught an expression on his face that set her heart beating hard and pounding slowly against her ribs. Edward’s eyes narrowed to slits, his mouth turned down at both ends, and his brows nearly met over those eye slits.

After a moment’s hesitation, she said, “I don’t see why we have to get this settled right now.”

Edward shot back, almost speaking over her. “It’s not like I’ve just brought this up. I’ve

been trying to get you to talk about it for the three years we’ve been married!” A brief pause, only a second. Then, “And every time I bring it up, you change the subject.”

A tiny, mischievous smile formed on her lips. “Are you and the men going out today to do the spring count?” She was glad her back was to Edward so he couldn’t see the smile.

“There! That’s what I mean!” Edward’s voice filled with frustration. “You changed the subject! Just like you always do!” He got gradually louder at the last.

Tess turned to the small tin tub she used to wash dishes and cleaned the knife she used to slice the bacon. Carefully, because she kept it very sharp. After she dried the knife, she laid it on the counter close at hand.

Drying her hands on the scrap of cloth she used to dry things in the kitchen, she worked to keep her expression and the tone of her voice neutral. “Edward, we have a wonderful ranch, hard-working hands, a healthy herd … just about everything we could want.”

A tiny catch at the end of that statement caught her by surprise. Tess hoped Edward didn’t hear it. The only thing they didn’t have was children. For some reason, Tess couldn’t get pregnant.

She hurried on before he could say anything. “Why can’t that be enough for you?” To herself, she sounded like she was almost begging him to see things her way. Her hands were clenched into fists and her nails bit into her palms.

Edward sighed dramatically. He turned his head to glance out the back door. For a few seconds, he kept his gaze there.

Tess watched him, saw the throb of the pulse in his throat, the bulging vein at his

temple. I hate to make Edward mad , she considered. Then, thinking more about it, No, that’s not right. I’m sorry he gets mad, but he needs to let this rest.

“It’s been three years, Tess.” Edward clearly struggled to keep his voice level. “I don’t see why you won’t put my name on the deed to this place. You can’t understand what it means to me for you to own this ranch and not me! You’re a woman and can’t know what it does to a man for other ranchers to know his wife owns the ranch.” A great frown creased his forehead, his eyebrows nearly touched between his eyes, and his lips turned down sharply. “It’s humiliating.”

That was the same argument he’d used several times before.

Tess made a very unladylike noise with her lips. “Oh, you men and your egos. It should make no difference whose name is on the deed to this ranch. We both live here and enjoy the fruits of our work.” She wondered, but never gave voice to the thought, who brought up the ownership of the ranch with the other ranchers in the first place. Might it have been Edward himself, trying to get the others to feel sorry for him? She pushed that thought away as soon as it thrust into her mind.

She stepped over to stand close to Edward and grasped his upper arms. For some reason she didn’t want to admit, she found it harder and harder to hug him.

“Forget about those other ranchers, Edward.” She spoke with quiet emphasis, tinged with almost begging. “You don’t have to be like them. And it doesn’t matter that the ranch is in my name.” She tried once more to convince him that was literally true. “You know I consider you part owner of the ranch. The name on the deed doesn’t matter to me.” There at the end she pleaded with him in her mind to understand, to accept what she said.

But Edward slammed that door in her face.

“It matters to me.” His voice, infinitely cold, spoke volumes about his unwillingness to be satisfied with anything other than what he wanted.

With those few words, he turned, pulled out of her grip, and strode to the back door. It slammed shut behind him.

A door slammed in her heart at the same time. She felt it.

Staring at the closed door, she swiped at the tear that leaked out of the corner of her eye. The sizzling pops of the bacon on the stove behind her grabbed her attention. Another swipe at her cheek, and Tess turned back to the stove.

No need to burn part of breakfast , she thought. He may come back and want to eat .

Tess tried thinking about the ranch to take her mind off her and Edward. She had inherited it from her grandfather Brannon years ago. He fought Comanches and Comancheros to hold the land. He stayed, they died. She was never clear about how Grandfather Brannon came into possession of the ranch. Stories were told in family gatherings and ranged from the land being an old Spanish land grant to her grandfather buying it from the Indians who lived here long before.

In any case, the ranch was huge. It ran nearly a hundred miles from east to west and almost that from north to south. The main house sat in a small grove of cottonwoods and willows. A year-round stream ran behind it, providing water for the headquarters.

Farther away from this small oasis, trees and water were less abundant. There were water holes that held water most of the time. But in the driest part of the summer, most dried up.

Grass was usually plentiful, in spots. But a lot of land was required for raising cows. They scattered around the entire ranch in search of water and grass. That was the reason for the spring count. To find out where the cows were and how many made it through the winter.

Along the western side of the ranch, close to New Mexico, the land was drier and cut through by arroyos. During the spring, storms popped up out there and spread their rains and winds east along the rest of the ranch.

To the north of the main house lay Amarillo, a long way off. Any major purchases were either made on those few trips to the big city, or had to be shipped in at quite an expense.

East was basically nothing until one got to Fort Worth.

South was also nothing. Open prairie, part of the Llano Estacado, the Staked Plains. Miles and miles of not quite desert. But in the spring, with the rains, wildflowers bloomed and spent their short lives, only to be burned up as the sun and wind took their toll. There would be intermittent streams, dependent on the rains. At times, the arroyos there flooded whether the rains fell in that area or in the mountains that ringed the southern part of the ranch. It could be a mean place, that part of the ranch. There were canyons cut into the dry land where the rock walls rose high on either side, cutting off any breeze, multiplying the heat of the sun reflected off the rocks. In places, the boulder-strewn ground lay at the foot of cedar-clad hillsides rising to the sun. Those cedars were again dependent on the spring rains, but had grown hardy over the many years they survived. Here and there, remains of lightning-blasted trees pointed like gnarled, old fingers toward the blue bowl of the sky. White, puffy clouds floated across that blue, sometimes gathering together into anvil-topped thunderheads that dropped tons of rain all at once.

No matter. Tess loved the ranch and ran it with love.

Now, trying to focus on what she was doing so she could keep her thoughts bottled up, Tess worked at breakfast. She made every small detail as perfect as possible.

But thoughts flooded back anyway.

Once she had breakfast finished and on the sideboard in case Edward came in to eat, and her own plate in front of her, Tess stared out the window from her seat at the table. How you’ve changed, Edward. Four years ago, you showed up one day out of the blue. I didn’t know you, not really, had barely seen you. Only on those few occasions I went all the way to Amarillo. I didn’t think you’d ever noticed me.

Then, you just rode up to the ranch.

When I asked if you were lost, you said, “No. I came to see you.”

You were splendid. You looked so tall sitting on that horse. And that smile! All that year you courted me, you flashed that smile.

I could hardly believe how lucky I was to have you courting me. I was a nobody on an isolated ranch. But you were somebody, and you rode all the way from Amarillo to see me.

But after we married, something changed. You changed.

And all because I wouldn’t put your name on the deed to this ranch. It shouldn’t make that much difference. But it does.

Now, I never see that smile anymore. All I hear is disappointment in your voice. I don’t hear love anymore.

Once more, she swiped at a tear.

This motion pulled her out from under the load of memories and back to the present. She glanced down at the congealed egg and cold bacon on her plate. With a huff of disgust, she pushed the chair away from the table, grabbed the plate, and scraped the food into the bucket she kept for scraps.

Tess glanced out the window one more time, saw Edward striding toward the house. She turned from the window, couldn’t turn from her feelings.

Her husband stomped his feet on the porch to knock off anything he might have stepped in. At least he still cares about me working to keep the house clean , she thought.

On his way through the door, Edward propped a shotgun against the door jamb. He walked further into the kitchen, glanced at her, then darted his eyes from spot to spot around the room, never settling on her again.

“The boys an’ me are goin’ over toward the hills to the east. We’ll be gone a couple of days. I’ll leave Buck an’ Slim here with you.” He stepped closer to her, gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. Then, he left.

Tess turned to the tub she used to wash dishes in and began filling it up. So many feeling coursed through her mind, she couldn’t sort them out.

In a few moments, she heard the sounds of several horses leaving the ranch yard. She turned to glance out the door, noticed the shotgun leaning against the jamb.

Edward might need that , she realized. Quickly drying her hands, she hurried over to the door, saw the last of the men riding away. With a sigh, she glanced again at the shotgun, then went back to her dishes.

She knew she wasn’t a beautiful woman. Others had called her ‘handsome’ in a way, but she didn’t know what that meant. Always, she’d taken care of herself physically, as much as a woman could as isolated as she was. She kept herself clean, especially her hair, and made sure to wear good clothes, even when working on the ranch.

She never thought any man, much less one as good-looking as Edward McCaslin, would pay her any mind. Now, she often wished he hadn’t.

Chapter Three

His thrashing shook the entire bed. Marlon “Snake Eyes” Roberts reacted to the dream images that plagued him. Or, rather, the nightmare images.

“You are such a terrible boy!” The buggy whip lashed against his bare back again.

Marlon didn’t know what he’d done to cause the young woman to beat him like this. His nine-year-old mind didn’t understand how someone could be cruel just to make others suffer. Struggle as he might, he couldn’t avoid the whip. Each time it hit, he jerked in pain.

“Stop!” he tried to scream. Nothing came out His hands seemed tied to something; he couldn’t move them to shield himself.

When he saw the face of the young woman again, it had changed into that of his mother. “Do you know how disappointed I am with you?” she screamed at him.

Marlon knew then it wasn’t his mother he saw. She never screamed at him or said much to him at all.

Once more he looked at the face of his attacker. Now, his father stood there. “You will never amount to anything!” the man said as the whip rose and fell, rose and fell. “I have to bail you out of everything you get into!”

Once more the face changed. This time the whore he sold to the Comanches in Texas stood over him. But she didn’t hold a whip; she held a butcher knife. With a grin, she lowered the knife to his groin. “I’ll teach you to sell me to savages!”

With that, Snake Eyes jerked himself awake. The first light of dawn turned the air gray

around him. For seconds, he had no idea where he was. He twisted his torso back and forth, searching for anyone who might be trying to hurt him.

Gradually, he understood where he was. In the early morning dusk, he recognized the dresser across the room from where he lay. Then the hat stand by the door. Finally, he felt the naked whore lying beside him as she stirred, awakened by his thrashing.

“What’s wrong, Honey?” The whore rolled over toward him, her breasts uncovered by the sheet. One hand went to his sweaty chest.

“Nothing. Just a dream, that’s all.” Snake Eyes rested his arm across his eyes, trying to shut out the vestiges of the nightmare.

“Want me to help you wake up?” The whore’s hand slid down to his waist.

“No,” he replied, not removing his arm from his eyes. “Leave me alone.”

“C’mon, Honey, I can make you feel all better.” The whore’s hand slipped down below his waist.

Snake Eyes sat up violently, throwing the sheet off both of them. “I told you to leave me alone!” he yelled.

“I’m just trying to help you, that’s all.” The woman’s eyes held the promise of something he’d enjoy. And fear, also.

“Get out!”

“What? I’m naked!” She struggled to pull the sheet over herself.

Snake Eyes lunged to his feet, started getting dressed. “I don’t care! I said to get out!”

“You’re a mean one, Snake Eyes!” The whore grabbed her clothes and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

He cast a critical eye on the small room. It contained the double bed with a sagging mattress, a wash stand holding a blue ceramic pitcher and basin, the wooden dresser, and the hat rack by the door. One window opened out on the plaza below.

Is this all I’m destined to ever have? he asked himself. No – someday I’ll have a great house, better than my father’s, and a bedroom as big as this entire building. I just have to make one, or at the most two, more raids.

Snake Eyes finished dressing, went downstairs to the lobby, told the clerk there he was checking out. After paying what he owed, he sauntered across the street to the café. At least this little town just over the border in Texas had a good café.

Snake Eyes was a man of many appetites. Some larger than others. He indulged one of those appetites at breakfast. Four eggs over easy, two large pieces of ham, four biscuits and gravy, two pancakes, and about a gallon of coffee.

When he finished, he sat a few more minutes to let the meal settle. While he sat there, a minor confrontation across the room caught his eye and ear.

An older man wearing clothes that looked to be as old as him stood facing the manager of the café. This latter man wore an exasperated expression above the large white apron he also wore. He shook his head continually.

“No, Amos. Just like I told you last week, I can’t let you eat on credit, hoping you’ll pay up when you strike it rich. Now, this is the last time, y’hear? You come around again for the same thing, I’ll call the Sheriff.”

Snake Eyes waved the waitress over. “What’s that all about?”

“That’s Old Amos. He’s always trying to get a meal on credit. Says he’s real close to a

strike. He’s a prospector.”

Snake Eyes stood, took out enough money to pay his bill, gave the waitress a good tip, and dropped an extra five dollars on the table. “Give Old Amos a good breakfast.”

With that, he walked out.

He strolled down to the livery stable where he’d left instructions to have his horse saddled and ready to ride this morning. Inside the dusky, cool building, the hostler limped out

of the small office in the front.

“Howdy. Yore horse is ready.” He motioned to one of the stalls as he turned and walked that way. “Fed ‘im a bit of grain last night and again this mornin’ early. Should be ready to go a distance.”

“Hope so. Got a long ride ahead.” Snake Eyes mounted and rode out of town. He rode slowly until well away from the town, then heeled the horse up to a ground-eating lope. He and the horse could hold this pace for hours.

Past the middle of the afternoon, he approached the area of the box canyon where his gang waited. He slowed, then stopped the horse. For several long minutes he sat still, knowing others were watching him and the country behind him. Snake Eyes insisted on this for everyone approaching the camp, any camp they made, for security. He said to make certain the person approaching was genuine and that no one followed him. Even if the one approaching was Snake Eyes himself.

So, he waited.

Several minutes later, a whistle from above him and an answering one from behind. This was the signal that all was clear.

Snake Eyes rode slowly into the canyon.

They had a nearly perfect site. Hard to find, hard to get into. Full of his men. And girls.

He pulled his horse to a stop in front of a small tent. His second-in-command, Rodriquez, emerged from the tent, a great grin on his face. “Jefe! Welcome back.”

“Hello, Rodriquez. You’ve take care of things while I’ve been gone.” He glanced around the canyon. “How many girls do you have?”

“Five. Two sisters, three not related to any of the others. Want something to eat?”

“Just a little. I want to get some of the girls and get back on down to Mexico.” He grinned at Rodriquez. “Guess I’m just anxious to get ‘em sold, get the money, and get it into the bank.”

“You really getting out of the business, Jefe?” His second-in-command stood ready to take over the business as soon as Snake Eyes “retired”.

“Yeah. I’m ready to stop hiding out in places like this. Ready to settle down on a nice little, no, nice big ranch somewhere.”

“I am jealous. That sounds wonderful.” A wide smile came with this.

“No need to be jealous. Once I’m gone, the business is yours. Just like we agreed.”

They were quiet for several seconds. Then, Snake Eyes said, “Pick out the three unrelated ones, tie ‘em to horses, and put enough supplies together for three days. I’ll see you when I get back.”

He and girls left before dusk.

This last batch of brats brought me more than the others . Three days later, Snake Eyes pondered this as he rode north out of Mexico, fatigue clinging to him like the dust churned up under his horse’s hooves and the sweat drawn out of him by the sun. Those last two Rodriquez is holding for me should bring top dollar, too. Then this last job and I’ll be on the way to California or maybe Oregon.

He stopped the horse in the shade of an overhang among the tan-colored rocks and green cacti of the desert country he rode through. A tiny swig from his canteen and a brush of his sleeve across his forehead and eyes, then he started off again.

Gradually, the land began changing around him as he rode further north. From the sand, low-growing bushes, and cactus of Mexico to more places where streams flowed and larger trees grew. At last he began seeing larger up-thrusts of the Earth’s crust that folded into canyons and bigger hills.

At mid-day, he stopped in a grove of cottonwood trees growing along a fair-size stream. He let the horse cool down, then allowed him to drink a bit. The next hour passed with Snake Eyes dozing under the cottonwoods and the horse grazing along the stream.

Back in the saddle, he covered ground at a slow trot, watching the ground ahead for any holes that might break his horse’s leg. An hour before sunset, he pulled to a stop in the clear before that same box canyon. This allowed the guards to look him over as well as the area behind him to see if anyone followed. Once the all clear was given, he walked the horse on into the canyon.

By the time he reached the clear area where the horses were picketed and the fires were going, he wondered at the quiet. The few men around the fires didn’t meet his eye. Something was wrong.

He pulled up in front of the tent where Rodriquez slept. No one emerged to greet him. He knew the guards had passed the word that he was on his way in, so he hadn’t caught his second-in-command unaware.

Snake Eyes sat on his horse and let his gaze travel around the camp. He couldn’t figure out what was different in the camp. The guards were still on the canyon rim, although there seemed to be more of them. Men still squatted or lay on the ground around the fires. Horses still switched their tails and stamped their feet at the flies.

But the whole atmosphere felt different somehow.

Had someone discovered their hiding place? Was Rodriquez dealing with that? What was going on?

One of his more trusted men, Frank Whitehorse, a half-breed, sauntered over to him from a nearby fire over to the right of Snake Eyes. “Howdy, Snake Eyes. Good to see you again. How was the trip down to Mexico?”

Snake Eyes stared at him a few seconds. One of the things he liked about the breed was the fact that he wasn’t easily intimidated. Even now, under the stare that left most men shaking, Whitehorse just stood there, grinning at him.

“Profitable, Frank. Very profitable. What’s going on here?”

When he saw the breed swallow before answering, Snake Eyes knew he wouldn’t like whatever it was he would be told. And he was right.

“You’ll have to ask Rodriquez that. He was the one in charge, so he needs to be the one to tell you.” The breed swallowed hard again. His grin faltered.

“Where is Rodriquez?” Snake Eyes shifted in the saddle, moved his right hand down to rest on his thigh, closer to his Colt.

“He’s on his way,” the breed answered, his eyes darting to that right hand, then back to Snake Eyes’ face.

“All right.” Snake Eyes dismounted, keeping his horse between himself and the breed. He trusted Whitehorse. To a point. With whatever happened there, he didn’t know if Rodriquez and maybe some of the others decided to take over. That’s the trouble working with outlaws , he mused. You don’t know if you can trust any of them .

Whitehorse started to walk back to his fire.

“We’ll wait here for him – together,” Snake Eyes said mildly. The mildness didn’t reach his eyes, though.

The breed carefully folded his arms across his chest, nodded. “Sure, Boss. Whatever you say.”

Rodriquez rode up ten minutes later, his horse lathered and breathing hard. For a moment, he just sat on the horse, his gaze on Snake Eyes. Then he dismounted.

“Didn’t expect you back this soon,” he said, standing beside the horse. “Things go all right down in Mexico?”

“Yeah.” Snake Eyes paused long enough to take a steadying breath. Without moving his gaze from Rodriquez, he said to Whitehorse, “Take his horse, Breed. See that it’s tended to.”

Without a word, Whitehorse reached out to Rodriquez, took the reins from his hand, and walked the horse away. He didn’t look back.

“What’s going on here?” Snake Eyes asked.

Rodriquez took his time answering. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but standing directly in front of Snake Eyes. His eyes darted all around the area, always coming back to Snake Eyes’ right hand as it hovered around his Colt.

Finally, with nothing else he could do, Rodriquez said, “The two girls are gone.”

“Gone.” The word came out softly from Snake Eyes’ lips. “How did they get gone?”

“Somebody came in and took ‘em.” Rodriquez could hardly get the words out.

“Just like that?” That soft, high voice that fooled so many people into underestimating Snake Eyes.

Rodriquez nodded.

“And you let that happen?”

Another nod.

“You look for them?”

“Yeah. We’ve been lookin’ for two days.” He gestured with his right hand toward the rim of the canyon. Realized that was a mistake.

Snake Eyes drew his pistol, fired twice. The twin reports sounded like one, echoed down the canyon.

Both bullets struck Rodriquez in the belly just over his belt buckle. His hands flew to the holes in his belly as he fell back to the floor of the canyon.

Others of the men jumped up from where they lay or squatted, staring at Snake Eyes where he stood. The staring didn’t last long. Quickly, they went back to whatever they were doing.

Snake Eyes stood over him. “I don’t tolerate my property being stolen.”

He stood over Rodriquez, looking down on him and holding his pistol ready just in case. The outlaw moaned with his eyes clenched shut and his hands kneading his shirt. At least one of the bullets must have hit his spinal cord because his shoulders and the upper part of his body writhed with the pain while his legs remained still. In a few minutes, long for him, he gradually stilled until he stopped moving completely and his eyes stared at the sun.

Snake Eyes holstered his pistol and made the sign of the cross over Rodriquez. “Good-bye my friend.” Then he raised his head and called out, “Whitehorse! Where are you?”

“Here, Boss!” The half-breed hurried up to stand across the body from Snake Eyes.

“You just got promoted. Two things: One, get this out of here.” He gestured at Rodriquez’ body. “Two, we go and find more girls. At least two. More if we can.” He lowered his voice. “Just a few more girls, and I can retire. Then you’ll have the business. Just like Rodriquez would’ve had if he’d been more diligent.”

Whitehorse didn’t know what ‘diligent’ meant, but he knew he wouldn’t screw up like Rodriquez did. The business was more valuable than that. Hell, his life was more valuable than that. If Snake Eyes would shoot his friend who had been his second-in-command for all those years, what would he do to a half-breed who made such a mistake as to let property get stolen?

He walked away from Snake Eyes, who was entering the tent for the night, and started planning what to do to find two more girls for the boss. He didn’t know Snake Eyes had his own plan working.

Snake Eyes pondered what he’d done for a couple of minutes. Killing Rodriquez

bothered him more that he thought it would. After all, the man had been with him for ten years. During that time, they’d grown as close as Snake Eyes let anyone get to him. So, the man was a friend, as well – sort of. But he had to be killed. Discipline, discipline and fear, that’s what the kind of men with me understand. So, I had to kill him. They would’ve never followed me again if I hadn’t. Now the breed won’t fail me. He knows I’ll kill him, too.

He lay down on the narrow cot to rest his eyes for a few minutes before he had something to eat. For those few minutes, he dozed. And dreamed.

‘See how weak you are?’ his mother said in his dream. She stood in front of Snake Eyes, who felt like a nine-year-old. ‘Can’t even keep your property safe. Can’t choose men who will do what you say. I’m ashamed to call you my son!’

In his dream, Snake Eyes pleaded, ‘But, Mother, I did the best I could! Look who I have to choose from. How can I do any better with what I have?’

‘Doesn’t matter. You can’t do anything right. Now you know why I’m never around. Why I hire people to take care of you. I can’t stand losers. And you’re the biggest one of all!’

Snake Eyes jerked awake then. Blinking, feeling tears on his cheeks. Angry, he brushed them away with his shirt sleeve.

I’ll show her. I’ll show both of them. Push me away, would they? Never stay around to be parents to me. All right, once I get the money that’s coming to me, I’ll go back East and laugh in their faces. I’ll show them who’s competent .

Chapter Four

The morning after Edward left, Tess awoke early, well before dawn. She never slept well when Edward was off with the men. Not that she was afraid, just more alert when she was by herself. But this morning, something felt wrong somehow. Not anything she could put her finger on, just a feeling.

She got dressed after washing her face. Decided to wear the new, fancy boots she bought in Amarillo for the morning. I might as well get some wear out of them. It doesn’t look like I’ll get to go anywhere to show them off . A bath sounded nice. Tess loved that clean feeling after a hot bath. Maybe after breakfast. I’ll fix some extra and have the two boys who stayed behind come in and share it .

In the kitchen, she lit a lantern and got coffee started. Opening the back door, she hoped for a cooling breeze, but it felt unusually warm and humid. A glance outside showed her it was still dark, with a slight hint of gray in the eastern sky. She walked out onto the porch, looked toward the barn. Shadows there had just a tinge of gray in them with the coming day. A light bloomed in the bunkhouse as she watched.

For a moment, she pondered the heavy feel to the air. Storm coming , she told herself. Walking back inside, the shotgun standing beside the back door caught her eye. Forgot to put that away , she realized. First thing after breakfast .

She turned back to the coffee when a tiny sound caught her ear. It sounded like a yelp from a dog. Then she realized a part of what may have made her uneasy. No dogs barking. Never had she gotten up and started stirring around without at least one of the dogs barking. No birds singing, either. Usually, there were birds in the trees around the main house.

Tess stood very still, listening. For some reason, her heart began thumping harder, almost bruising her ribs. That had never happened before when she was alone on the ranch. Was her body trying to tell her something that her mind hadn’t yet realized?

She reached over and turned the lantern off. The door was a slightly lighter darkness against the black of the inside of the house. Tess slipped over to the door, picked up the shotgun, and laid it on the kitchen table. It felt comforting there.

Back to the door, she listened again. Heard nothing.

For a long minute, she just stood there, listening. Something felt wrong. The night itself felt like it was waiting for something to happen. In spite of the early season heat and humidity, goose bumps raised on her arms.

Was a storm coming? The air felt like it did before a bad spring storm. Threatening in a way. Heavy, charged with that prickly feeling like just before lightning struck.

Tess listened again to see if there might be thunder way off and coming closer. Still nothing. Not only did the night seem to hold its breath, it also kept very still as if afraid to move.

In the near distance, not far beyond the corrals behind the barn, a coyote began to yip but cut off the sound quickly. Tess jerked her head in that direction. Something scared that coyote away , she realized.

At about that same moment, she heard what sounded like horses walking into the ranch yard. Edward wouldn’t be coming back, not at that time of the morning. And she hadn’t heard either Slim or Buck up and around with horses.

Then she saw the light that had come on in the bunkhouse down close to the barn get brighter. Slim, a tall man who may have weighed 140 pounds if he carried a saddle, stepped to

the door. Immediately, several gunshots rang out and Slim fell back into the bunkhouse.

Tess gasped and jumped as the shots blasted away the quiet of the night. She caught a glimpse of a group of riders spurring their horses toward the house. At the same time, another rider jumped off his horse and ran into the bunkhouse. More shots thundered from there.

Unsure of just what was going on, Tess dashed back into the kitchen, away from the door. She picked up the shotgun from the table and pulled back the twin hammers. Its solid weight felt comforting in her hands.

She remembered what her Grandfather Brannon taught her about shooting the shotgun. Because it kicked so hard, he told her to hold the butt stock under her arm and use her body to aim it. That way, her whole body would take the recoil, not just her shoulder.

He also told her he hoped she’d never have to use it against another person, but it looked like that was exactly what was about to happen.

The sky was light enough now for her to see the mounted men milling around the ranch yard. Someone in the group yelled, “You two, go in the back door! See if anybody’s in the kitchen. I know there’s a woman here, an’ I want her!”

Tess realized the man was talking about her. And she knew then who these men were.

There had been women and girls missing from ranches like hers. Ranches that were isolated. Ranches where men were killed and women taken. She’d heard rumors about the raids. Didn’t know whether to believe them or not. Now she knew she could believe them.

And now the men who did that were here!

She heard the boots of two men as they pounded up on the porch. Tess found it

annoying that they didn’t stomp off anything they may have stepped in before they burst through the door. If she’d had time, she would’ve laughed at herself for that annoyance.

But there was no time.

The two men rushed through the door, one behind the other. They stood out clearly against the light from outside. Clearly, they didn’t see her standing in the dark kitchen.

That made it easier for her to squeeze the trigger for the right barrel of the shotgun and blow a hole in the first man’s belly. He took the entire load and folded over his own middle. The force of the ten-gauge shot shoved him backwards into the man behind him. That man staggered, cursing into the wall beside the door. As he tried to bring his pistol up to shoot Tess, she squeezed the trigger for the left barrel. That charge caught the second man in the upper chest, just at the base of his throat. The force of the shot nearly tore his head off.

Tess dropped the shotgun. Some shells for it were in the bedroom, but she didn’t think she’d have enough time to get there and reload it. There were shouts from outside, alarms called out because of the shots.

That may be why she didn’t hear the other man come in the kitchen behind her. But she smelled him just before he grabbed her.

He grabbed her from behind, his arms going roughly around her chest just below her breasts. She felt the hardness of his arms and hands as she struggled against him. Tess clawed at his hands and kicked at him with her boots. She reached over her shoulder and raked the side of the man’s face with her fingernails.

That got to him enough that he yelled what were probably cuss words in what sounded like Spanish to her and threw her against the stand where she washed dishes. The man swiped at his cheek with one hand. Then he stepped toward her and slapped her, hard, with his left hand. The blow knocked her around to her left.

Dizzy from the force of the slap, Tess fell against the stand holding herself up with both hands on the flat top of the stand. Her right hand fell on the handle of the knife she used to slice bacon.

Gripping it, she turned to face the man who slapped her. That man took one step toward her and met the knife as it thrust into, and all the way through, his neck.

In the gray and pink light of dawn, Tess saw the surprise on the man’s face as he staggered back from her. His hands went to his throat, his eyes wide with the knowledge he was dead. Then the rest of his body understood, also, and he collapsed to the floor.

More men pounded up on the porch. Tess turned toward the back door, saw them, and knew she had to do something. Turning, she came face-to-face with another man. This one a little taller than her. And he was smiling!

Before she could do anything more than gasp, his fist connected with her chin and blackness engulfed her.

Chapter Five

The first thing Tess became aware of some time later was being jostled and shaken back and forth. Her back and butt were also hot. And she couldn’t figure out why she could only see the ground passing by when she opened her eyes.

A wave of dizziness struck her then and she closed her eyes again.

She slept, or more likely, passed out. Tess opened her eyes again. Time had passed; how much, she didn’t know. But her back and butt were hotter than they were.

The back and forth swaying motion continued. Gradually, she became more aware of some of what was going on. She lay face-down across a saddle. She smelled the leather and the horse. Grass flowed by in front of her face, the grass of the plains. Short, tough, full of nutrients for her cattle, at least in the spring.

But why was she there? Why wasn’t she back in her kitchen at home?

Then she remembered! Those men, the ones she killed. They came to take her. The man who was apparently their leader said he wanted her.

Was he the one who hit her, knocked her out?

What about Buck and Slim? She’d seen Slim go down in the gunfire. And two other men went into the bunkhouse and shot. Did they kill both of them?

And what about her? What were they going to do with her? Where were they headed? She knew they were out on the plains somewhere, the grass was right. But she didn’t know which direction they traveled.

There was so much she didn’t know. What she did know was she was getting sick to her stomach with the swaying of this horse. And going along with her head hanging down gave her a tremendous headache. Of course, some of that may have come from being knocked out.

She tried moving her arms and legs. Both were securely tied with a rope that appeared to go under the horse’s belly. Her wrists stung from being chafed by the rope and from the sweat that ran down her arms.

Turning her head in the direction they were going, she could see little. Several rough-looking men rode along with her, all dusty from travel. When she turned back behind the horse, she saw about the same thing. How many men there were altogether, she didn’t know.

Besides the sounds of the horses walking through the prairie, she heard the creaking of wagon wheels. At least two, maybe more.

Her movements caught the eye of one of the men riding behind her. He touched his heels to his horse and trotted up beside her. “Well, you’re finally awake. Snake Eyes will want to know.”

He heeled his horse into a trot again and rode off in the direction they were headed. When the man was gone, Tess pondered what he’d said. Snake Eyes? What kind of man is named Snake Eyes? It can’t be a good one.

In another couple of minutes, the horse she was tied to slowed, then stopped. Tess heard two horses come up to hers. Both stopped and two men dismounted. She could see their lower legs and boots. One wore run-down, scuffed and scarred brown boots. The other wore what looked like hand-tooled black ones, dusty but still in very good shape. She guessed those were the ones the leader wore. She tried to raise her head.

“See, Jefe? She’s moving, trying to get a glimpse of you.” This was the voice of the man who rode off a couple of minutes before.

The shined boots came into her line of sight then. The man who wore them squatted down and lifted her chin with one surprisingly soft hand. She recognized the face of the man who punched her.

He let her chin drop, then said, “All right, get her down from there.”

Rough hands tugged and jerked at the ropes holding her ankles and wrists. In moments, she was untied and hauled down from the back of the horse. She couldn’t stand, so she slumped down onto the ground, supporting herself with her left arm. Her right hand shaded her eyes.

“Give her some water,” the one who must have been Snake Eyes said.

A canteen was tossed in her lap. Slowly, she pulled out the stopper and put the canteen to her lips. Only a small trickle of water slipped into her mouth and down her parched raw throat.

“You’re a tough one and smart, too. Most women I know would’ve tried to drink that whole canteen in one swallow.” The man she knew was Snake Eyes still squatted beside her. “Just a little more, then give the canteen back.”

Tess knew to do just what the man said. She had no other choice. So she got another mouthful, handed the canteen back to one of the other men, and let the water slowly slip down her throat.

As she did this, she took a good look at the man who kidnapped her. Snake Eyes looked to be about her own age, somewhere in his early thirties. With him squatting down, it was hard to tell, but he appeared to be above average in height and weight. His clothes were a cut or two above those of his men, even though they were dusty from riding.

It was his eyes that were striking. They were totally black. No other color. And from what she could see, there looked like they had no bottom to them. She could see why the man would be called Snake Eyes.

“You killed three of my men,” he said. There was little emotion in his words, no accusation, no indication he was sad they were gone. Just a statement of fact.

“They came after me,” she said. Equally just a statement of fact.

Snake Eyes stared at her for several seconds. Then, “Like I said, tough.” He stood, turned to his men. “Put her in the wagon with the others.”

Two of the men took one arm each and stood her up. Tess was weak, but at least had the feeling back in her legs. She didn’t let the men know she could walk, however. She thought it best that they didn’t know everything about her.

The men almost carried her to a wagon that had been modified to be like a prison wagon. Solid-looking bars held up a solid roof that provided some shade for the interior. One of the men, the one who rode forward and brought Snake Eyes back to her, produced a key from his pocket, unlocked the chain from the only door to the wagon, and swung the barred door open wide.

The two men who held Tess lifted her up and shoved her into the wagon. The other man then re-locked the chain around the barred door.

As the wagon started off, Tess looked at the other women who occupied the wagon.

There were four other fully-grown women, two who appeared to be in their late teens, and two older children. She didn’t recognize any of them.

They all stared back at her, except one of the teen-agers who sat curled into a ball, her gaze focused on the floor of the wagon.

“My name’s Tess,” she ventured.

The others just kept on staring for a moment. Then, one of the grown women replied, “I’m Sarah.”

This seemed to break the ice a little. The other women, except for two, gave their names. The others were Elly, Barbara, Susan, Mary, and Julie. Sarah told her the teen-ager who was so withdrawn was named Bessie.

Tess turned to the other mature woman who hadn’t given her name. This woman wore an expression of anger and hate. “What’s your name?” she asked the woman.

“What difference does it make?” the woman shot back. “We’re all gonna be killed, anyway. Are you trying to get to know us and be friends or somethin’?”

“I just thought it might make whatever’s going on here a little easier to bear if we know each other’s names,” Tess answered. “That’s all.”

“Well, I see no sense in knowin’ anythin’ about any of you.” The woman swiped away a tear.

“All right. You don’t have to tell us anything.” Tess tried to be as calm and reassuring as possible. If the situation they all were in was anywhere near as bad as she thought, they needed all the reassurance they could get.

“Tess, who are these people and what are they gonna do with us?” Sarah asked. She

had already put Tess in the position of leader of their little group.

“I don’t know who they are, Sarah. I heard one of them, the leader I think, called Snake Eyes.”

Barbara jumped in. “I’ve heard of him. They say he steals women and sells them down in Mexico!”

The women all began crying and talking at once. Even Bessie raised her head so Tess could see her cheeks covered with tears.

Once they calmed down a little, Tess said, “We have some time before we get to Mexico, if that’s where we’re headed. Lots of things can happen between now and then.”

“How do you know something can happen?” This from the woman who wouldn’t give her name. “Who do you think you are, anyway?”

“I’m nobody. Just another woman sitting in a cage. Just like you.” Tess stared at the woman. “But I’m not giving up hope.”

The other women grew quiet then. Tess put her mind to escaping.

Chapter Six

The saloon where Rafe Brannon sat, The Double Eagle , had changed considerably from three years before when he’d last been there. Ft. Worth itself had changed a lot, also. It was no longer just a cow town, catering to the cowboys who came in from the ranches once a month or so. Now, it was a small, but growing, city.

Changes in the saloon moved it up several notches from the status it enjoyed before. For one, it sported a real wood puncheon floor. Before, it had only dirt with some sawdust thrown on it every once in a while. And the bullet holes in the walls had been patched and covered over with some kind of fancy paper.

But Rafe knew where the holes had been. At least the ones he put there.

He let his eyes wander over the saloon. The long bar across the entire far wall carried a high shine now. The brass footrail gleamed. Even the spittoons were polished. Four large wooden wheels with coal oil lamps hung from the ceiling, throwing light into all the corners.

Four bar tenders hurried from customer to customer behind the long bar. The quality of customers increased, also. No more drunken cowboys just off the ranch without having a drink or a fight for a month. Most of the men in the room wore dress coats, some wore ties. There was even a piano player picking out tunes he nearly recognized.

Rafe was the most ruggedly dressed of all of them. On his five-foot ten frame he carried a hundred and ninety pounds. Like many men who spent a lot of time in the saddle, his hips were narrow and his shoulders broad from the physical work he did when needed. Green eyes peered out of a face that women admired, but wouldn’t be called classically handsome. His thick brown hair had a mind of its own. Even if he combed it, within an hour, it went where it wanted. Pretty much like Rafe himself. The Colt he wore had known much use, but was clean and worked well.

His range dress had nearly kept him out of this poker game. The other men at the table made it clear to him that they expected fairly high bets and that he better have the money to back up his bets. When he laid a stack of double eagles on the table in front of him, there were no more questions.

Over the course of the past two hours, Rafe had won a little more than he lost. The same couldn’t be said for two of the men who angrily tossed their cards in the middle of the table, stood up, and left. As soon as the two chairs became empty, two more men sat down.

But he had a concern. Not a worry, not an accusation yet, but a concern.

He leaned back in his chair. The well-dressed man seated across from him played his cards very well. Maybe too well. Rafe decided to watch a while longer. He tossed in the cards in his hand and settled back to watch the well-dressed man.

The others still in the game placed their bets and asked for cards. Rafe watched the well-dressed man deal out cards to the rest of those still in the game. Nothing there he could see, just a feeling. And he learned long ago to trust his feelings. They’d kept him alive several times.

One by one, the other men folded and tossed their cards onto the table. There was only one man still in the game along with the well-dressed one. They went back and forth with bets until a sizable sum of money lay on the green felt table between them.

Rafe knew the last man in the game held a good hand. There had been several tells he

picked up as cards were dealt to him. He wasn’t sure about the well-dressed man.

The well-dressed man said, “All right, Mister, I’m about up to my limit on bets. I’m ready to see what you have.”

“That’s good,” the other man replied. “I was hoping you wanted to stop with the bets.” He fanned his cards out on the table. “A flush. Can you beat that?”

Rafe glanced at the cards. Five, six, seven, eight, and nine. Different suits, but in order. He looked back at the well-dressed man. Something in his eyes told Rafe what was going to happen next.

“Well, now, that’s a really good hand,” the well-dressed man replied slowly. “A real good hand.” He looked at his own cards once more, then fanned them out on the table. “But not good enough. Full house, Queens and tens.”

A sigh went around the table. The other man slumped in his chair, certain that he had the winning hand.

Probably would have, too, on any other night. And with an honest dealer , Rafe thought as he put his hands on the arms of the chair to push himself up. Time for me to say somethin’ .

As he got to his feet, one of the deputy city Marshals, tapped him on the shoulder. “Mr. Brannon, th’ Marshal wants to see you. Right away.”

Rafe stared at the man for a second, then nodded. “You go tell th’ Marshal I’m on my way. I got some business to tend to here first.” He turned back to the table and glared at the well-dressed man. “You’re lucky I’ve gotta go. I know you’re cheatin’, but I ain’t figgered out just how yet. Better for you to get outta town, ‘cause if you’re here when I get back, I’ll kill you.”

With that, Rafe turned and walked out of the saloon. His spurs jangled with every step. Every eye in the place followed him. Not often anymore in this newly civilized place did anyone make the kinds of threats they just heard.

Rafe walked the three buildings down from the saloon in four minutes. He opened the door and stepped into the large room. The Marshal, an older man with a silver mustache and hair, sat behind a desk at one end of the room in front of a window, no doubt so he could catch whatever breeze came through. Another door faced the one he just walked through. It had to be the door to the cells. Hanging on the wall by that door was a gun case. Three rifles and two double-barreled shotguns stood there, a chain through the trigger guards. At the end of the chain, a lock secured the weapons.

“Howdy, Rafe,” the Marshal said as he leaned back in his chair. “Got some news you’ll want to hear. Your cousin has a ranch over south of Amarillo, don’t she?”

Instantly, every hair on Rafe’s neck stood up. “Yeah, she does. What’s goin’ on?”

“Got a wire from the Sheriff over in that neck of the woods.” He shuffled through some papers on top of the desk, found a yellow sheet. “Seems there was a ranch over that way that was hit by some renegades yesterday. That’s been happenin’ a lot over that way. Don’t know if it was her ranch or not, but …”

Rafe didn’t wait to hear the rest of what the Marshal had to say. He was out the door. Ten minutes later, he was on his way to Tess’s ranch.

Chapter Seven

Silence grew in the wagon after the initial try to get to know the other women. With the sun shining into the wagon, the heat grew oppressive. This, too, kept the women from talking. They simply endured. Tess used the time to observe and see if there were any weaknesses among the men or the way they worked she could exploit to escape.

It looked like Snake Eyes had planned everything with almost military precision. There were two other wagons besides the one she rode in. Neither of them appeared to have any other women in them. Both of the others had covers that were drawn tight over the beds.

One clearly was a chuck wagon with a dirty canvas cover over the front part. The back was a wooden affair with a tailgate that could be let down to make a work surface. The other must be carrying supplies. And probably loot from the ranches they raided. Its canvas top was snugged down a lot flatter than the other one.

Outriders were posted on both sides of the wagons and behind them. She saw four on each side of the wagons and at least three behind. Not able to see ahead of them, Tess didn’t know how many rode there.

At least twelve outriders plus the three driving wagons , Tess realized. Fifteen men. A lot to be riding around, raiding ranches. They must steal a lot from the ranches . She paused then, aware of the situation they faced. Or make a lot of money selling women in Mexico .

Did the others fully realize what lay ahead for them? She looked around the wagon, examining each woman’s face. Most of them had pulled within themselves, either not wanting to grasp what was going on or praying that husbands and fathers would show up to rescue them.

Only two were different. The teen-ager, Bessie, still lay on the floor of the wagon curled into a ball. The woman who refused to give Tess her name stared back at her. A scowl narrowed her eyes, brought her brows together over her nose, and turned the corners of her mouth down until they nearly touched the lower edge of her jaws. Her lips pressed together so tightly, they nearly disappeared.

They held each other’s eyes for another minute. Then the woman looked away.

Tess also gazed out toward the outriders. She had been riding in the back of the wagon for hours. The wooden floor of the wagon was broad boards worn smooth and hard as iron. Lying on her back grew tiresome quickly, with her head bouncing every time the wagon hit a rut or a rock. Which was often. Then she tried lying on one side or the other with her head pillowed on one arm. That lasted slightly longer than on her back. But her shoulders and hips paid the price.

Slowly, keeping her balance in the swaying and bouncing wagon, she got to her knees and then to her feet. The top of the wagon prevented her standing fully upright, but even bent over a little at the waist was a welcome change. It would be nice to be able to stand to her full five-feet four inches, put her hands on the small of her back, and stretch.

Then she thought again about what lay ahead for them. The women, at least. She didn’t know how many days it would take them to get to Mexico, but she figured at least a week. Plenty of time , she considered. I hope .

But between now and then there would be trials. Lots of them.

Tess was no youngster. Thirty-four next month. She knew what men did with women. And men outside the law, far away from civilization, would certainly do that with women they had under their control. Likely, they would not be hurt too badly since they were merchandise.

She glanced back at the other women again. Did they understand what surely was going to happen? If not tonight, then the next? None of them would be spared, that was certain.

Another thought. She had to tell them. Make sure they knew. Let them get ready, or as ready as they could.

Tess sat down again facing the other women. “Ladies, I think it’s important we talk about … things.”

The other women stirred, blinked as if they’d been asleep, focused on her. They didn’t seem to understand what she was saying.

“We’re all in a lot of trouble here,” she began. “We need to talk about what might happen. What will happen.”

Sarah shaded her eyes against the lowering sun. “What do you mean?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Tess said, “Think about this. We’ve been kidnapped, stolen from our families, our husbands, our fathers. By a group of men who steal women and sell them in Mexico. Sell them to other men who use them. Those of you who are married know what I mean.”

She could see they were thinking. Even the younger ones knew what she was talking about. She let them think about that for a few seconds.

Then, “If they’re going to sell us for that, what do you think they’ll do to us on the way?”

“Who are you to talk about things like that?” This came from the woman who wouldn’t

give Tess her name earlier. “What do you know about such things?”

“I know men,” Tess responded. “All of us know about men.” She addressed the entire group, “And here we are with a group of men who don’t care about the law.” A pause, just long enough for a deep breath. “They can, and will, do whatever they want to us.”

They all got silent then, looking at her, then out at the men, back at her. The older women began to understand. She could see it on their faces.

“When do you think …?” one of the other women tried to ask.

Tess looked from one to the other of the women before responding. “Tonight, I think. After we stop for supper.”

Several of the women gasped, held their hands over their mouths. The younger girls began crying.

“Won’t they come and get us?” another of the women asked.

“Who?” Tess said. “Your husband, your fathers? No, they won’t. They don’t know where we are. These men have done this before. Many times. And they haven’t been caught. We don’t need to think we have anyone we can rely on except ourselves.”

“Why are you talking like this?” the woman who Tess came to call Sour Face asked. “This isn’t something civilized women should talk about.”

Tess swung around on her. “You need to stop thinking about being civilized. There won’t be anything civilized about what these men do to us.”

“You should be quiet! You’re scaring the others.”

“They should be scared!” Tess shot back. “But knowing what’s going to happen gives us time to get ready for it.”

“You mean to fight?” Sarah jumped in.

“No.” The short answer startled some of them. “If you fight, you get hurt. It’s going to happen anyway, so we should let it.”

“What?” Sour Face almost shouted. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying we have to survive. In order to survive, we have to be ready for anything. And you know what I’m talking about.” She noted the shock on their faces. “Yes, even that. It won’t kill you. But if you fight, they might kill you.”

“They won’t take me,” Sour Face declared. “I’ll fight! You wait and see!”

“If you fight, you’ll die.”

No one said anything more. They all sank back into themselves, no doubt thinking about what Tess had said. Sour Face stared at her as if daring her to say any more. She simply stared back.

Half an hour later, by Tess’s best guess and judging by the sun, the wagon slowed, then stopped. A small grove of trees stood nearby. She figured there was water there.

The men started getting their camp set up. Tess was right about one of the wagons holding supplies and the other being the chuck wagon. One of the men who she thought was the one next to the leader rode up.

“Two of you,” he pointed to Tess and Sour Face, “will help the cook with supper.”

When he rode off, two other men came up and unlocked the door to the wagon. They took Tess and the other woman over to the chuck wagon.

They worked with the cook for the next two hours. Once finished cooking, they then

washed up the dishes and pots. The cook gave them extra food then, and they stood by his

wagon eating.

In the near distance, they heard screams. Tess swung her head toward the sound, saw one of the women being dragged out of the wagon and toward a tent. While she watched, two other men took two more of the women, who screamed the entire way.

When she turned back, Snake Eyes stood there in front of her. They stared at each other for seconds, then Tess laid her plate down and stood with her head down.

He held his hand out to her. After a moment, she lifted her head and walked by him.

Chapter Eight

After riding hard for two days, Rafe Brannon rode into his cousin’s ranch yard just short of sundown. His buckskin horse was lathered and blowing hard. Rafe was as near exhausted as he ever got. He dismounted stiffly, stood for a moment to get feeling back in his butt and legs.

As he stood there, he saw Edward sitting on the large porch. He’d met the man twice before when he was traveling through the area. Neither time had he been impressed favorably. He let his eyes linger on his cousin-in-law for a moment, then glanced around the ranch yard. A large barn stood thirty yards away from the house, a corral behind it. No horses stood in the corral.

Rafe figured all the ranch hands were off looking for Tess. That accounted for the lack of horses and the quiet around the place.

Coming back to the house, he saw it looked to be in really good shape. He wouldn’t have expected anything less from Tess.

“Howdy,” he said as he walked up to the three steps leading up to the porch. “Mind if I come on up?”

“Sure. Come on up.” Edward didn’t bother to get up, but stayed in the rocking chair sipping a glass of something. “Rafe, isn’t it?”

“That’s right. Tess’s cousin.” He climbed the steps and stood there, waiting to be invited to have a seat and a drink. “We met a couple of times.”

Edward remained seated. “I remember.” He squinted up at Rafe. “You were wanderin’ through.” He slightly emphasized the ‘wandering’ to make it sound demeaning.

“Yeah.”

Rafe wondered at the lack of simple Western hospitality Edward was showing. Sure, his wife had been kidnapped, but he still should have seen to the minimum of greetings. He decided to give the man the benefit of being his cousin’s husband.

“Understand Tess has been kidnapped,” he said, hoping it would bring some kind of response from Edward. “Thought you might need some help findin’ her.”

“Yeah, she’s been gone two days now.” Edward’s voice seemed to hold a little more emotion that time. But only a little.

After waiting for him to go on, Rafe said, “Your men out lookin’ now?”

Edward glanced from Rafe’s face out over the ranch yard, down to the drink in his hand, back out to the barn. “No, they’re not.” His eyes darted up to Rafe’s face, then slid off quickly to focus in the distance behind him. “I, uh, I needed them for the spring count.” He hurried on before Rafe could do anything other than open his mouth. “We looked for two days. Didn’t see any sign. Couldn’t even find which direction whoever took her left out. Had a dead man and another one wounded to take care of, too. In addition to the ranch.”

“No sign at all?” Rafe tried to catch Edward’s eye, but couldn’t. “They cover up their tracks?”

“No. There were a lot of them. Too many tracks. Then they got in the river and we lost ‘em.” Another glance up at Rafe’s eyes and away quickly. “We tried. But I guess she’s gone. Like the others.”

“Others?” Rafe repeated.

“Yeah. There’s been several ranches hit, women stolen. Never could follow whoever it was.” Lots of people tried.

Rafe wondered how hard he’d tried to find Tess. But he said nothing about that. “You said you had a wounded man. Can I talk to him?”

Edward seemed to hesitate a moment, then he said, “All right. But he’s in bad shape, might not get much out of him.”

Rafe walked down to the bunkhouse after Edward pointed it out. His cousin-in-law stayed where he was on the porch.

The bunkhouse was a sturdy affair, with several bullet holes in the door. Rafe knocked, then walked in. One man lay on his bunk along the wall. He watched Rafe all the way in.

“Howdy,” Rafe said, his lips turned up at the corners in what passed for a smile with him. “I’m Rafe Brannon, Tess’s cousin. Wondered if I could talk to you for a few minutes?”

The man pushed himself up on his bunk, his face revealing the pain it cost him. “Howdy. I’m Buck. Reckon I can spare a few minutes. I don’t have much else planned right now.”

Rafe decided he liked this man. Tough, likely a hard worker who rode for the brand.

“You got shot?” Buck nodded, and Rafe went on. “Know how that feels. I’ve been shot three times. Every one of ‘em felt like the Devil himself pushed a hot rod through me.”

“That’s right. They only got me once, but that’s plenty.” He pointed to his upper chest where a white bandage covered the wound. “Knocked me off the bed, so th’ other shots went high.” He shook his head this time. “Lucky. Just pure, dumb luck.”

“Sometimes that’s all that counts.” Rafe took a breath. “You see what happened to Tess?”

“No. Just heard about it from the boys when they got here.” He grinned. “One of ‘em told me Miss Tess got three of ‘em before they took her.”

“Three of ‘em?” Rafe whistled. “I knew Tess was tough, but three?”

“Yep. Right proud of my boss.”

“Tess is your boss? Not your boss’s wife?”

“Nope. She’s the boss.” He squirmed a little, pain darkening his face. “It’s her ranch, after all.”

That put a new twist on Tess being gone. Rafe noticed Buck grimaced with pain again. “You all right to go on a little more?”

“Yeah,” the cowboy said, relaxing again.

“Edward told me the boys looked for Tess for a while. What can you tell me about that?”

Buck hesitated, squinted his eyes at Rafe. “You want me to talk freely?”

“Yeah. Nothin’ goes outta this room.”

After another hesitation, Buck said, “Yeah, the boys looked for Miss Tess. For almost two days. Then Edward told ‘em to stop and get back to th’ spring count. A couple of the boys wanted to keep lookin’, but Edward told ‘em they either get back to th’ count, or find another job.” He sagged a little with that.

Rafe stepped back then. “You rest now. Thanks for the information.” With that, he left the bunkhouse and walked back to the porch.

Edward still sat in the rocker. Rafe climbed the steps and stood in front of his cousin-in-law.

“How’s Buck doin’?” Edward asked.

“He’s all right. Told me somethin’ interestin’. Said Tess killed three of the men who came to take her.”

“Yeah. Shot two of ‘em with a shotgun. We found them just inside the door to the kitchen. Another one was on the kitchen floor, a knife in his throat.” Edward sounded proud, but also disbelieving.

“When did you find out what had happened?”

“We came in that same day about lunch time. I’d left a couple of things, so we came back in to get ‘em. Soon’s I figgered out what happened, I sent for the rest of the boys.” His voice changed, sounding defensive now. “We did what we could to try to find her. After all, she was my wife.”

Rafe noticed he spoke of Tess in the past tense. It was harder and harder for him to keep on giving Edward the benefit of the doubt.

“I’m gonna see what I can see tomorrow. Too dark now to do anything. If you don’t mind, I’ll put my horse up in the barn and bed down in the bunkhouse.” He paused, waiting for Edward to offer a bed in the main house.

Didn’t happen.

Rafe went on. “You want to go with me tomorrow? I know your hands are out doin’ the count, but what about you?”

“Sure would like to, but …” Edward shifted in the rocker, a wince of pain flitting across his face. “Hurt my back and leg lookin’ for Tess. Wouldn’t be any good to you. No good at all.”

Rafe nodded. “Sure. I’ll go put up my horse. I’ll get started by first light.”

Chapter Nine

Snake Eyes watched Tess walk away from his tent, escorted by another of the men. This one was different from all the other women he’d taken. He was used to screaming, even fighting to keep him from doing what he wanted. Not so with this one.

To begin with, she came with him without complaint. Even held her head up as she walked to the tent. Once inside, no screaming or fighting.

What was up with her? Why was she like this? Didn’t she understand what was happening, what was going to happen to her?

Snake Eyes lit a cigar as he pondered all this. This one was a little older than most of the women he took. Usually, he just shot the older ones. After all, the greasers wanted young girls, just like most men did, and they paid better for them.

Why did he even take this one? He knew what she looked like and that she wasn’t young. His contact had told him that before the raid. But he took her anyway.

After a few puffs on the cigar, Snake Eyes knew why he took Tess. He wanted to make this last raid and get down to Mexico, get paid, and get out of this business. Otherwise, he would’ve passed up that ranch completely and found some young girls to take.

Thinking about his time with the woman, Snake Eyes smiled. At least as much as he ever smiled. Not a lot more than just an upturn of the ends of his lips.

This woman was different. A little older, more wise to the ways of the world, maybe more mature. Maybe she knew what he did wasn’t much different from what men did with their wives. The women just weren’t volunteers, they didn’t have any choice.

He faced what he’d come to realize. He liked this woman. Liked her more than any woman he’d taken before. Most of the time before, he didn’t even consider how he felt about any woman, he just took her to satisfy himself. Then he would basically throw her away after he was finished. Give her to his men. Then sell her.

But not this one. Oh, he’d sell her for sure. That wouldn’t change. He needed the money to get what he wanted.

He wouldn’t give this one to his men, though. No, he wanted her for himself as long as they traveled. Best to get that settled right now.

“Breed!” he yelled. “Where are you?”

“Here, Jefe! On my way!”

Whitehorse hurried up to Snake Eyes in front of the tent. He was probably the only one of the men who didn’t help himself to any of the women they took. When Snake Eyes asked about that some time before, he told his boss it just didn’t seem right to him to steal the women and then take advantage of them.

As soon as the breed stood in front of him, Snake Eyes explained what he wanted. “That woman I just had in here?”

The breed glanced at Tess climbing back into the wagon. Turning back to his boss, he nodded.

“I want her all to myself. No one else can take her. Make sure all the men understand that.” He puffed on the cigar and gazed toward the wagon where Tess sat.

“I will do so, Jefe.” Whitehorse still stood in front of the tent.

Snake Eyes noticed he stayed where he was. “Something else, Breed?”

If Whitehorse didn’t like being called ‘Breed’, he never let it show with Snake Eyes. “Yes, Jefe. The little one,” he waved toward the wagon where the women stayed, “who never sits up. All she does is lay on her side. Never talks, only eats or drinks if one of the other women makes her. I don’t think she will let herself live.”

Snake Eyes looked back over at the wagon and puffed on his cigar as he thought. “We could shoot her, I suppose. But then we’d be one woman short and have to raid another ranch.” He turned back to Whitehorse. “We don’t need to do any more raids right now. We need to lay low. Our luck could run out any time. No, we won’t shoot her.”

They both thought for another moment.

“Jefe?” Whitehorse ventured. When Snake Eyes nodded, he went on. “This is most likely a poor idea, but what if we give her to the youngster? He would listen if you tell him to be gentle with her.”

Snake Eyes pondered this another moment as he stared at Whitehorse. Just when the breed started to open his mouth to apologize, Snake Eyes said, “Good idea. Set it up with the youngster.” As Whitehorse started off, Snake Eyes said, “And be sure to tell all the men about that other woman.” Going back into his tent, Snake Eyes realized, Even though I like this woman and she’ll be mine exclusively, I have to watch her. She is like the coyote, always looking for some way to get what she wants.

Tess walked away from Snake Eyes’ tent almost in a daze. She couldn’t think right then. Not really. And about all she felt was numb. Like her whole body went to sleep. Numb and ashamed. She’d done what the man wanted, let him do what he did. She knew that was the best way to handle what happened. But that didn’t keep her from feeling shame that she didn’t somehow resist or fight or scream. Or something.

But she knew she wasn’t completely numb. She saw everything around the camp very clearly. Everything had sharp edges, it seemed.

And she heard everything around the camp, also. The laughter of some of the men sitting around their fires rang out in spurts. Snorts from the horses and the stamp of a hoof to get rid of a fly. She smelled the smoke from the fires and the stink of fresh horse apples.

Around it all, the screams of the women being violated in other tents.

Once back at the wagon, she felt the rough planks under her body when she crawled in and lay down. She also felt the stares of the other women. They knew what had happened to her. Knew what she’d said about not fighting back. About accepting the inevitable.

Now they watched her to see how she’d react.

Tess lay down with her back to them so they wouldn’t see her tears. She wanted to curl into a ball like the youngster, Bessie. But she wouldn’t allow herself to do that.

No – she had to appear strong. For herself as well as for the others. Silently, she gathered all the strength she had from deep inside. All the strength she’d inherited from her Grandfather Brannon. All the strength she used to make her ranch what it was today. All the strength she’d need to escape and get back to that ranch. They needed her to be strong so they wouldn’t lose hope. She had to be strong so she wouldn’t lose hope.

Hope. There was always hope until they arrived at their final destination. Always a chance that somewhere along the way the men would make a mistake, let down their guard,

close their eyes at the right time.

So, she wouldn’t give up hope. She would work at being strong.

And it would take work. There was so much to handle, so much to overcome. Not only the indisputable fact of her captivity, of the burden she felt for the other women. The feelings also loomed large.

Like right now.

Tess struggled with the fact she had been with another man. Not voluntarily, certainly. But of her own volition in a way. She didn’t try to fight him, to prevent what happened in any way. Didn’t scream, didn’t faint when he put his hands on her.

Did that make her as guilty as him for what happened? Should she have fought? Was she wrong in what she told the other women?

As she lay there and thought about it, she realized, no – she wasn’t wrong. What happened would have happened anyway. She, and they, couldn’t hope to fight these men. Fighting only made it worse. She, and they, must stay strong, healthy so they could take advantage of any small chance to escape that came their way.

And stay healthy to face the awful trials of getting back home when they did escape.

So, she would deal with the emotions. If necessary, push them away to bring out at another, safe time and face them then.

In the meantime, she would be strong. For the others, but mostly for herself.

Wiping away tears with the sleeve of her dress, Tess took a deep breath and sat up facing the others.

Off in the west, lightning lit up mountain passes. Many seconds later, thunder grumbled through the arroyos and across the prairie to finally tickle Tess’s ears.

Chapter Ten

Before sunrise was anything more than a thought in anyone’s mind, Rafe Brannon tightened the cinch on his horse’s saddle. A lantern hanging on one of the stalls in the barn gave him enough light to see what he did. After so many years of saddling horses, he hardly needed the light.

It still puzzled him why Edward didn’t seem to be too upset over Tess being taken. He didn’t know a lot about their relationship. About all he did know was how happy Tess had been three years before when they married. Since then, he heard little from her.

That wasn’t unusual. The family didn’t stay in close touch. Most lived in places scattered around the West. Rafe himself didn’t have a fixed home. He enjoyed wandering the country, seeing what he could see, working when he needed money.

Rafe had always been the one in the family with wanderlust. The first time he left home, he was ten years old. After six months, an uncle found him living in the woods five or six miles from his house. He told that uncle he didn’t like Arkansas and didn’t like farming. But he’d go back and stay until he was man enough to live on his own. Brought back home, Rafe stayed another six years, then left for good.

He had not been back since.

When he had the horse saddled now, he led the buckskin out of the barn, tied him to the corral. After a glance at the still-dark main house, he walked to the bunkhouse to get the rest of his gear. Buck turned over in his bunk as Rafe entered.

“You headin’ out to look for Miss Tess?” he asked, propping himself up on one elbow.

“Yeah. Somebody’s got to.” He strode over to the bunk he’d used. “It don’t look like Edward’s goin’ to do much more.”

“Wish I could go with you.” Buck lowered himself back onto his bunk, pain clear on his face.

Rafe turned to him as he picked up his gear. “Wouldn’t mind havin’ you along. But I work better alone. You just lay up an’ get healed up. I’ll go find Tess an’ bring her back.”

“You do that,” Buck said, conviction strong in his voice. “I’ll work for her, but not for him. You don’t find her, I’m gone soon’s I can ride.”

Rafe nodded once, then left. Outside, he tied his gear behind the saddle. After he shoved his Winchester into the saddle scabbard, he mounted and walked his buckskin out of the ranch yard.

He rode for a half mile to the point where he knew Tess’s captors had left the road to the ranch and cut across country. Edward said his ranch hands followed this trail for several miles before losing it in some rough country.

Rafe didn’t question the ability of the men to follow the trail. He knew they would’ve stayed on it unless pulled off. And that’s exactly what Edward did. Pulled his men off the trail.

Rafe put the disbelief and anger toward Edward in the back of his mind and concentrated on the trail he followed. For the several miles the men had followed Tess’s trail, it showed clearly in the dim pre-dawn light. It took little time to reach the spot where they lost the trail.

He dismounted there on the rocks to wait for daylight. He didn’t want to miss what

might be a very small sign that pointed him in the direction Tess had been taken. Once the sun

came up, the smallest signs could show up.

Leaning back on one elbow, Rafe waited.

This was one of his favorite times of the day. Things just waking up. Birds singing, and the rest of the day creatures beginning to stir as the night creatures began finding bedding spots. Everything seemed fresh and cool like the Earth had been given a new day to see if it could do something good with it.

Less than half an hour later, the light grew to the point of being enough for him to use to find the trail again. Back on his feet, Rafe slowly looked over the ground in front of him. Sometimes in that kind of light a trail invisible in full sun would show up. The angle of the early sunlight would show where someone rode or even walked. In the morning light that slanted across the land, those small signs that could be missed later in the day would be highlighted.

He picked up what appeared to be tracks headed south. As he led his horse, Rafe slowly followed the tracks over the rocky place. Here and there in the dirt between rocks he saw partial tracks. On the rocks themselves, scars showed where horses’ hoofs had hit them.

For another hour, Rafe followed the tracks. Probably a hundred yards past the rocks, there was more prairie, making for easier tracking. There, he found the wagon tracks.

He tied his buckskin to a spindly sapling and walked along the wagon tracks. He wanted to sort out as much as he could about who he followed. There appeared to be three wagons, all heavily loaded. The hoofprints of several horses showed apart from the wagon tracks. He couldn’t tell exactly how many riders were with the wagons, but there appeared to be at least ten.

Rafe stood and faced the direction it appeared the wagons were traveling. South,

toward Mexico. They had to be connected to the men who took Tess. No one else would have wagons in this area. All of the ranch hands should be further east and a little north. That was one thing he learned from Buck as they talked last night. They were the only other ones who would have wagons with them.

It made sense that the man would have wagons to carry the women he took. At least one wagon would be a chuck wagon with as many men as there seemed to be with the wagons. That left probably two wagons. At least one carried women and girls.

Rafe didn’t worry about the number of men he suspected riding with the wagons. He wasn’t going to attack them; that would only lead to him being filled with hot lead. Not something he wanted to happen. Instead, he planned on following and catching up with the wagons. Then, he’d watch and figure out first if Tess was there and then find a way to sneak her out and away from the wagons. If he could, he’d bring the other women with her. But Tess was of most importance to him.

No need to wait any longer , he told himself. Th’ longer I wait here, th’ further away they get.

He strode back to his horse. After checking the cinch on his saddle, he mounted and kneed the buckskin along the wagon tracks.

The sun grew warmer on his back as he rode along. He had no trouble following the tracks. The wagons seemed to be heavily loaded so their tracks cut deeply into the soil. Every once in a while, he glanced toward the west where large clouds were building as the day heated up. If they developed into storms and came his way, they could wipe out the tracks he needed to follow.

But he couldn’t push too hard; to do so would exhaust his horse and leave him on foot with the wagons getting further and further south. Closer and closer to Mexico, where he felt sure the women would be sold. He heard rumors of a group of men raiding isolated ranches, stealing whatever they could, including women and girls.

Rafe had been on his own wandering the West for quite a few years. In that time, just like most men who lived in the wild did, he developed a sixth sense that warned him when something wasn’t right.

That sixth sense was tingling right now.

Someone was following him. He stopped on top of a small hill that afforded a good view behind him and a screen of small trees to conceal him. Thirty minutes scanning the country behind showed nothing. That wasn’t surprising. The country looked flat, but folds and arroyos crossed the land. Any of them could hold a rider out of sight, maybe even several riders.

This made Rafe wonder if the man who took Tess might have left a man or men behind to make sure no one tried to follow them. He hadn’t heard of that before in any of the rumors about the raiders, but he couldn’t say they wouldn’t do it.

After another long look behind him, Rafe went on following the wagon tracks. That sixth sense kept on tickling along his back. From time to time, he stopped to watch his back trail.

The morning passed slowly that way. He had to watch the tracks, look over his back trail every once in a while, and keep an eye on the clouds building in the west.

Shortly after the sun was at the top of the sky, he stopped for a rest. Not for himself, but for his horse. He walked his buckskin into a small copse of trees growing up around a spring

that trickled down from a short hill. While his horse grazed on the grass around the spring, Rafe gnawed on several pieces of jerky from his saddle bags.

The entire time he rested, that feeling that someone was dogging him persisted. His resting place was slightly higher than the surrounding land. So, he watched the whole time he rested and ate. And watched his buckskin.

He knew the horse would be the first to notice anyone coming up on them.

After about an hour, Rafe began thinking it was time to ride on. When he looked over at the horse, he was standing, ears pricked forward, staring to the east. Another small copse of trees covered about a half-acre there. Now Rafe knew where whoever it was trailing him had stopped.

Rafe mounted up after tightening the cinch on his saddle. Without trying to hide his movements, he rode south again, apparently following the wagon tracks. Within a quarter mile, he came to the place where an arroyo paralleled the tracks. At a sandy place, he guided the horse off the trail into the arroyo. There he waited.

Ten minutes or so later, the buckskin’s ears pricked again and his head came up in the direction of the trail. Rafe heard the sound of a walking horse on the trail above. He waited until it sounded like the horse had passed where he was before kneeing his horse up out of the arroyo and onto the trail.

When he got up on the trail, he spotted someone on a horse about thirty feet in front of him. Rafe pulled his .45 caliber Colt, holding it ready.

“Hold up there!” he shouted at the other rider.

The other rider’s head jerked around. Whoever it was, clearly didn’t expect Rafe to

come out at a place they’d just passed.

“Just sit easy,” Rafe said, keeping the Colt pointed in the general direction of the rider, his eyes fastened on the rider’s hands. When he saw the other rider rest both hands on the pommel of the saddle, he relaxed a little. But not too much.

“Why’re you followin’ me?” Rafe looked over the other rider. Slight of build, dressed in jeans, wool shirt, and vest, with a good-sized bedroll tied behind the saddle. He couldn’t see the rider’s eyes with the black had pulled down to keep the sun out of the rider’s eyes.

“You’re looking for Tess?” came the response.

The other rider’s voice sounded higher than Rafe expected. Was this a kid? Someone who knew Tess and decided to try to rescue her, too? With a touch of his heels to the buckskin’s sides, he rode up closer to the other rider.

What he saw certainly surprised him. The other rider was a woman! Up close there was no doubt.

“Who are you, and what are you doin’ here?” he demanded.

“My name is Merita Calderon,” she responded in a pleasant, slightly accented tone. “And I’m following you because you’re going after Tess.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Tess was my best friend. She often talked about you, Rafe Brannon.” The young woman smiled. “She said if anything ever happened to her, you’d come to help her. And would come riding a buckskin horse.” She grinned larger. “I’ve been following you all day.”

Rafe stared at her, trying to figure out whether she was telling the truth. How could he tell? He had no idea.

“If you’re who you say you are, why didn’t you show up at Tess’s ranch when I was there?”

“Edward doesn’t like me,” she responded quickly. The smile disappeared. “In fact, I cautioned Tess not to marry him.”

With a nod, Rafe considered that. It sounded like this young woman’s feelings about Edward went along pretty much with his.

“All right. You’re followin’ me. Why?”

“I want to go with you to rescue Tess.”

This took Rafe by surprise. This young woman wanted to go with him to find Tess? There was no way he’d do that. No way. He told her as much.

“I only ride alone,” he said, making his voice hard, expecting no dissent. “Only alone.”

Merita was insistent. “I can take care of myself. I won’t get in the way. You’ll see.”

“No,” he repeated. “I only ride alone.”

Merita’s face showed her disappointment. She sat back in the saddle and hung her head. “I’ll stay out of your way,” she went on, almost pleading. “Another set of eyes can only help.” A pause, only long enough to take a deep breath. “She was my best friend.”

He said one more time, “No! I’m going after Tess alone. Go back to wherever you live. I don’t want you with me.”

A determined expression crossed onto Merita’s face. “I’ll just follow you. I’m not giving up. You’ll see that you need me.”

Rafe said, “Go back home. I’m not going to watch out for you. I don’t want you with me.” He heeled the buckskin on past her along the wagon tracks.

“I’ll follow you!” she said to his back.

Rafe simply rode his horse away, following the tracks of the wagons.

Chapter Eleven

The days in the wagon passed slowly for the women. They were all the same. All hot, dusty, uncomfortable. And filled with fear. The constant creaking of the wagon wheels, the shouts of the men, the sun and wind that dried them out all day.

Tess knew those kinds of days would wear the women down. Nothing to do, no hope of getting rescued, dreading what lay ahead each night, and fearing what waited at the end of the journey.

It would be easy for them to simply give up. To lie there and await their fate.

She also knew that would signal the end for all of them. So she didn’t lose hope. She continued watching for some way to escape.

Snake Eyes and the caravan he led continued rolling south, avoiding towns and anywhere other people might see them and report to authorities. Each of the two nights, he sent for Tess, and she went with no argument. And fought with her guilt and shame every night.

The other women accepted what she said about not fighting back. Except for the one woman who still had not given Tess her name. This woman glared at her every time she got a chance.

The third night after Tess was taken, Snake Eyes brought the caravan to a stop for the night at a fair-sized stream. It provided graze for the horses and trees to give some cover for the wagons. They stopped a little early because a significant storm cloud grew in the west and looked like it was going to dump all of its rain right on top of them.

Snake Eyes wanted to get a camp set up and fire wood gathered before the rain hit. As it turned out, the storm clouds rolled right over them without losing a drop of rain.

Tess and one of the other women were picked to work with the cook getting supper ready for the men. Usually that meant whichever of the women helped to cook didn’t get chosen by any of the men. She wasn’t sure why, but didn’t say anything.

As they were cleaning up after the men ate, Tess heard screams coming from the women’s wagon. She stepped away from the back of the chuck wagon where they were working and looked toward their wagon.

The woman who never gave her name was being dragged, literally, from the women’s wagon. One of the larger men pulled on her arm.

“No!” she screamed. “No! I won’t go! Help! Someone help me!”

Other men watching the struggle laughed and shouted encouragement to the man dragging her out of the wagon. Much of what they shouted was profane. The men were used to some of the women fighting them when they came to take them. It was part of the fun.

Oh, no. This can’t turn out good . Tess started toward the two, but was brought up short by the cook’s command for her to stop. She tried to somehow communicate with the woman. Stop fighting, stop fighting. It’s going to happen anyway, no matter what you do.

Her silent pleading did no good, however. The large man succeeded in dragging the woman out of the wagon and across the open space before the tents. Now he had both of her arms by the wrists. Her heels made drag marks across the dirt. She kept on screaming for someone to help her.

In front of the tent, the man dropped her in the dirt. At once, she jumped up and started to run. He grabbed her by the arm again, whirled her around, and slapped her roughly. He hit her hard enough to knock her back into the dirt. Then he snatched up a handful of her hair and dragged her screaming into the tent.

Tess sighed and turned back to the chuck wagon. She hadn’t even gotten started washing the dishes when a yell came from the tent where the large man dragged the woman. It wasn’t a scream like the woman did as she was dragged into the tent. It was a scream of pain this time.

After she turned to face the tent again, the woman literally flew out of the front. The top of her dress was ripped almost completely off. She hit the ground on her back and lay there dazed.

Immediately, the large man stormed out of the tent, also. Blood covered one cheek.

“She bit me!” he yelled. “That woman bit me!” There followed a string of curses.

He stood over the woman, one foot on either side of her hips. She began stirring, shaking her head trying to clear it.

As she regained her wits, the man continued to curse her. He drew his pistol, pointed it at her, and cocked it.

“No!” Tess screamed.

The man didn’t hear, or didn’t care if he heard. As soon as the woman had her eyes on him, he squeezed the trigger, shooting her at the base of her throat. The impact of the large-caliber bullet knocked the woman back on the ground so hard at the short range that her head actually bounced back up after hitting the ground.

After standing there another few seconds, the large man spat on the woman’s body and

stepped back. He calmly ejected the spent shell from his pistol and reloaded with a new cartridge.

Snake Eyes sauntered out of his tent and over to the large man. He stared down at the dead woman for several seconds, then raised his face to focus on the large man. For the moments he stared, the man clearly trembled. Snake Eyes shook his head.

“You cost me one woman,” Snake Eyes said softly.

“Si, Jefe. I’m sorry.” The large man hung his head.

Snake Eyes nodded. “Yes, I know you are. And I understand why you did this,” he nodded toward the body. “Now you have no more women, understand? No more women on this trip. That is your punishment.”

He glanced down at the body once more. Then he raised his head and his voice. “Get all of the women in the wagon!”

The rest of the men hurried to gather up the women and drag them to the wagon. One man took Tess’s arm and gently steered her to the wagon. Clearly, being the choice of Snake Eyes had some status. The rest of the women were treated much more roughly.

Once all of the women were back in the wagon, Snake Eyes strode to the door and glared at them. “You see what happens to those who harm my men. That kind of violence will not be tolerated.” He stopped, glared from one face to another. Stopped for a moment on Tess’s face.

Snake Eyes stepped back a couple of steps and motioned to two of the men standing beside him. “Get the body and bring it here.”

The men ran to do his bidding. One took the woman’s body under the arms, the other picked up her legs. Nearly running, they carried her over to where Snake Eyes stood.

“Put it in the wagon.”

The men roughly tossed the woman’s body into the wagon. It landed at Tess’s feet. The other women squealed and crowded to the opposite side of the wagon.

“Now you will travel with this for the next few days. It is your reminder not to injure my men.” He nodded to his men to close and lock the door and walked away.

Tess stared after him a moment, then bent and straightened out the woman’s arms and legs. She then pulled her over to one side of the wagon. I tried to tell you , she thought to the body. I’m sorry you wouldn’t listen . For a long minute, she cried softly, her tears hitting the woman’s body. With a deep breath, she stopped the tears. Swiping at her face, she lifted her head. She turned to gaze at the other women cowering against the wall. Will you listen now? Or will there be someone else?

Back in his tent, Snake Eyes pondered the loss of the woman. Maybe losing one of them

won’t be so bad. With the money I already have, I can still get out of this business. But I can’t

afford to lose another one. We would have to stop and raid another ranch.

He finished his cigar, blew out the lamp, and rolled up in his blankets. He was asleep in less than a minute. Then the nightmare returned.

Why was he always nine years old in these dreams? There must have been something that happened at that time of his life that scarred him somehow.

He saw he was standing in his father’s study back in the house where he lived. His father stood over him again.

‘You just won’t learn, will you? I can’t bail you out of every mistake you make. Now you’ve let one of your men kill that woman, and you may not have enough money to come back and impress me. I should have known you couldn’t even make this business pay.’

Then his mother again, this time with a disdain he knew so very well. ‘Just like you to do something like this to embarrass me. How could you let one of your men kill that woman? Now what will you do? How will you ever be successful if you’re so careless?’

Snake Eyes jerked awake. He sat up on his cot and blinked away the dream residue. Just wait , he said to himself . I’ll do better than either one of my parents. They’ll see!

Chapter Twelve

Rafe rode away, leaving Merita sitting on her horse in the middle of the trail. He thought she would surely give up and go back home. She didn’t look like she could stand living out in the weather like he’d been doing for years. Once, he glanced back over his shoulder at her. She still sat on her horse where he’d left her.

Putting her out of his mind, Rafe turned his attention to the trail again. It appeared the wagons traveled in a more or less straight line. Whoever this is , he thought, isn’t worried about being followed .

The raiders probably had never been followed before, so they didn’t consider that a real possibility this time, either. That was good for Rafe. It made it less likely that they left anyone behind to stop followers. But he still couldn’t get careless.

He made good time following the tracks the rest of that afternoon. When the sun was about a hand’s width from the western rim of hills, he began looking for a good place to spend the night. Soon he found it.

A trickle of water emerged from the south side of a small hill. The trees that grew up around the water provided both concealment and a source of firewood. He dug down in the soft dirt about a foot and built his fire there. On the opposite side from the hill, he stacked up some wood to work as a reflector. He’d spread his blankets at the base of the little hill so the heat would be reflected toward him. That time of the year, it never really got hot during the day, and the night could even dip down low enough for a light frost the next morning. In any case, a fire would feel good at bedtime.

After he made a small meal, he sat and drank coffee. The sun set behind the hills, and the early evening dusk began gathering in the little folds and creases in the land around. He listened to the evening as he finished the coffee. Nothing but birds and wind. A coyote sang its song a long ways out.

After full dark, Rafe walked out a little way from the camp site to look and listen again. A quarter moon provided just enough light for him to make out some of the terrain arrayed in front of him.

At first he saw nothing out on the prairie. Then he caught a glimpse of light not too far away. It looked like a camp fire.

I’d better see who that is. Maybe the raiders left somebody behind after all. I’d hate for them to miss me and be disappointed.

He strode back to his camp and pulled a pair of moccasins out of his saddle bags. After putting them on and checking his buckskin, he set off toward the fire he saw.

It was only about a quarter mile from his camp. Even at night, with the light from the quarter moon he made good time. The wind blew from his left side, so his scent should be carried away from horses tethered there.

When Rafe got within about twenty yards of the fire, which he could see clearly now, he slowed down, careful to make no noise. There was little on the ground other than low-growing bushes, sage brush, rocks, and dirt. Not much to cause noise if he walked carefully.

He reached a boulder between him and the fire. Easing around it, he stood in the shadow of the rock and examined the camp site.

The fire was small, but adequate for one person. He saw a bed roll lying close to the fire, but not too close. Several good size boulders stood on the other side of the bed roll. He appreciated that whoever was there could use the boulders as reflectors for the fire. The ground around the fire had been cleared for a good space to keep the fire from spreading.

Out of the corner of his eye, he got a glimpse of movement. Slowly turning his head, Rafe saw someone emerge from the boulders.

Merita! She did follow him.

As he watched, she took her hair down and shook it out. In the firelight, it looked black. Black and long, hanging well below her shoulder blades. She rolled a couple of large rocks in front of the fire to direct the heat toward her bed. When she began unbuttoning her shirt, he stepped back behind the boulder and made his way back to his own camp.

At least I know she can make a good camp. And it didn’t look like she was hesitant about sleeping out under the stars. She may not be the helpless female I thought she might be .

Back at his camp, he chuckled as he took off the moccasins and his gun belt and pulled his blankets over him. It would be fun to go back there and do something to scare her. Just enough to make her go away. No – I won’t do that to a woman. Think about it, but won’t do it .

The next day, Rafe made several more miles following the wagon tracks. It looked like he might be gaining on them. This made him more wary as he traveled.

That night, shortly after stopping to camp, he heard a voice from the dusk. “Hello, the fire! Can I come in?”

Rafe eased over to stand beside a tree where he’d found a seep of water. The shadow

there would conceal him a little, and he could duck behind the tree if whoever was out there

turned out to be unpleasant.

“Ride on in. Slow, if you will.”

“Slow’s a good way, Mister.” The man walked his horse on into the fire light. He kept his hands on the pommel of his saddle.

For a few seconds, Rafe studied him. A young-ish man, the rider wore rough range clothes that showed wear. But the Colt belted around his waist was clean, at least as much as Rafe could see.

“Light an’ set, Mister,” he said after his gut told him it was all right. “Coffee’s hot.”

“ ‘Preciate it. I been ridin’ a long ways.” The man dismounted, loosened the cinch on his saddle, and took a cup from the saddle bag.

Rafe joined him, hunkering down across the fire from him. “You had supper yet? I’ve got enough for both of us.”

The man shook his head. “I’ve got some jerky in the saddle bags. That’ll do me. I got a ways to go yet tonight.” He sipped the coffee, his eyes never leaving Rafe. “Nice place to camp. You stayin’ a while?”

“No. I’ll prob’ly go on a bit further, too. Not sleepy yet.” Rafe sipped his own coffee. “Just wanted some hot coffee to get me started on.”

The man finished what was in his cup, tossed out the grounds that settled to the bottom, then stood. “Thanks for the coffee, Mister. Maybe I’ll see ya on down the trail somewhere.”

Rafe stood with the man, his cup in his left hand. “May be,” he said. “You never know.”

After replacing the cup in his saddle bag, the man tightened the cinch on his saddle, mounted, nodded to Rafe, then rode away. Rafe listened to his horse as long as he could. He kicked sand over the fire and stood against the tree once more. He waited to see if the man might sneak back to the camp.

Merita had just finished with her small supper and relaxed with a cup of coffee. She noticed her horse lift its head and stare off into the darkness, its ears turned to gather sound from the way it faced. She slipped back behind one of the boulders that formed her heat reflector.

In another minute, a voice from the darkness called, “Hello, the fire. Can I come in?”

“As long as you come in slow and keep your hands in sight,” Merita responded.

“Sure thing. Slow an’ easy,” the voice said. A man rode in who obviously had been riding for several days. His range clothes were dusty and he needed a shave. His eyes roved all around her camp site before she stepped out. When she did, the man sat up straighter in the saddle.

“Never figgered on findin’ a woman alone out here,” he remarked with a grin.

“Never can tell who you might find out on the Texas prairie in the spring time,” Merita responded with no grin. “Coffee’s on. Step down and bring your cup.”

He wasted no time doing just that. “You don’t mind me askin’, what’s a woman doin’ out here alone?”

“Who said I’m alone?” Merita didn’t like having this stranger in her camp, but Western etiquette demanded she at least offer him coffee.

The man made a show of glancing around the camp. “Well, I don’t see but one saddle, one horse, an’ one bedroll.”

She decided to ignore his question, instead she asked her own. “Where you headed?”

He shrugged. “Lookin’ fer work. Driftin’ from ranch to ranch, seein’ if they need a hand.”

“Had any luck?”

“Not yet. But my luck’s bound to change.” This last came with another grin.

Merita felt his eyes on her the whole time and not in a friendly way. “There’s a ranch north of here that might need somebody. Two days’ ride or thereabouts.”

“Thanks. I’ll travel up that way.” He tossed the dregs of his coffee into the fire and stood. “Sure appreciate the coffee. Think I’ll head on north toward that ranch before I make camp.”

The man sauntered back to his horse and replaced his cup in the saddle bag. Then he looked over at her horse. “Ma’am? I think there’s somethin’ wrong with yore horse.”

“What?” Merita lost her caution for a moment and hurried over to her horse.

Just as she passed by the man, he grabbed her from behind, one hand going around her waist, the other across her breasts. “Now, you ’an me are gonna have some fun.”

Merita took in a deep breath to scream. The man quickly put his hand over her mouth.

“No, no. We don’t wanta draw no attention now.”

She leaned forward over the arm around her waist and bit down hard on his hand over her mouth. That got the man’s attention.

“Yeow! You little … “

He didn’t finish what he started to say because Merita threw her head back into his face. The satisfying crunch of the bone in his nose signaled that her action had the desired result. The man let go of her and held both hand to his face, trying to stop the blood now flowing fast from his nose.

Merita whirled, drew her .45, and shot him in the chest.

When Rafe judged that a half hour had passed, he relaxed a little. The man probably had just been a drifter and kept going. Just as that thought passed through his mind, he heard two shots from the direction he thought the man went.

Merita! flashed through his mind. Even though he didn’t know the young woman, he knew what could happen to her if the wrong people came across her. A young woman, alone, out on the prairie. No one would know if the man who was just at his fire decided to attack her.

Rafe jumped into the saddle and heeled his buckskin to a lope. He trusted the horse to see any obstacles and avoid them. The only thing he wouldn’t be able to see was a prairie dog hole. Stepping into that would mean a broken leg for the horse and a real problem for Rafe.

But he had to see if Merita was all right.

It took only minutes to cross the quarter mile to where the shots seemed to come from. He saw the reflection of another fire in the distance and slowed down.

“Merita?” he called out. “This is Rafe Brannon. I’m comin’ in. Don’t shoot.”

In case the other man had been the one shooting, Rafe held his .45 in his hand, ready to shoot as he rode in. As he drew closer to the fire, he saw someone lying on the ground, Merita with her hair down, holding a pistol pointed toward the body.

Rafe holstered his .45 and dismounted. “You all right?”

“Yes. This man rode up to the fire. I offered him coffee, he got down and got a cup.

When I went over to see about my horse, he grabbed me.” She swiped at a tear on her cheek. “You can see I got away.”

“Yeah. I’d say you got away just fine.” Rafe turned the man over. It was the same one who stopped at his fire. “Two holes in the middle of his chest. Good shootin’.”

Rafe went through the man’s pockets, found little. “I reckon he was just a drifter, saw you were a woman, an’ decided to have some fun. Didn’t turn out that way for him.”

“No, it didn’t.” Merita holstered her pistol.

“Reckon you might should come over to my camp. Might be safer if we’re together.”

“I thought you worked better alone.” Her tone was a little mocking.

What passed for a smile curled up Rafe’s lips. “Usually do. But I’ll make an exception this once.”

Merita’s smile would have lit up the countryside.

As she turned to start packing up, Rafe told himself, Don’t get fooled by that smile, Boy. She’s a handful. You got to walk careful.

Chapter Thirteen

Tess sat up in surprise as the wagon slowed, then stopped. In a sort of half-daze, half-nap, she hadn’t noticed the thunderheads building in the west. Now they had gotten so high they covered the sun. Thunder grumbled in the far distance.

She heard the driver of their wagon call out to one of the riders going by. “What’s goin’ on? It’s early yet. Why’re we stoppin’?”

“Snake Eyes wants to wait an’ see if that storm cloud comes over this way,” the rider shouted back. “He thinks this here’s a good place to stop.”

Tess looked around at the place where they’d stopped. It was a small copse of trees squeezed into a little canyon. If the storm did hit, the trees and the hills surrounding them would stop at least some of the wind.

The wagon started up again. For a minute, Tess thought Snake Eyes had changed his mind, and they would continue on. But soon she saw they were just pulling in further behind one of the hills.

The other women began stirring out of their half-sleep and looking around. Sarah, the woman who seemed most friendly to Tess, said, “Why’re we stopping? It’s still early.”

“Storm may be coming,” Tess said. “I think they want to wait here and see if it does.”

When the wagon stopped this time, two of the men came and unlocked the door. One of them, the one who seemed to be second in charge, pointed at Tess and Sarah. “You two, come with me. We’re gonna stay here for the night. Y’all are goin’ to help th’ cook.”

As they climbed out of the wagon, Tess stood up straight, something she couldn’t do in the wagon, and stretched the knots out of her back. She noticed several of the men glancing her way as she did so. She also noticed Snake Eyes talking to one of the youngest looking of his men. That was all she could see before the two men hurried them off to the chuck wagon.

Some time later, Tess gathered up the dishes left by the men after they ate. The storm passed close enough to them for some of the wind to moan through the trees, but no rain came. She carried the dishes back to the fire behind the chuck wagon where a large pot held hot water. Stacking the dishes on the ground beside the pot, she straightened up and brushed hair away from her face.

As she did so, a glance toward the wagon holding the other women showed her Snake Eyes and the young man he’d been talking to approaching the wagon. One of the men standing guard behind the wagon opened the door. He and the young man climbed inside and went to stand over Bessie.

The youngest of the women, Bessie had stayed curled up on the floor of the wagon almost the entire time Tess had been there. The two men picked her up and began carrying her out of the wagon. Bessie didn’t move, didn’t scream, didn’t try to fight.

What are they doing? Are they going to leave Bessie here? She’s not said or done anything the whole time we’ve been moving. Maybe they think she’s lost her mind or something and won’t be of any use to them, so they’re going to let her go.

These thoughts coursed through Tess’s mind as she watched. Soon she knew she was wrong. The two men took the young girl to a distant tent, the other men along the way calling out crude remarks to the young man carrying Bessie. Tess realized the young man was going to have the girl that night. With a deep sigh, she also understood there was nothing she could do to help Bessie.

Once he had the girl in the tent, the young man closed the entrance flaps to a flood of suggestive and crude remarks from the other men. Tess and Sarah finished up their cleaning duties and were returned to the wagon. Two of the other women were also gone from the wagon.

“I hope Bessie’s all right,” Sarah muttered as they settled down on the floor of the wagon.

“Me, too,” Tess agreed, glancing over at the tent where the young girl had been taken.

With the passing of the storm, the air grew cooler. The women pulled blankets over themselves for warmth. The one Tess chose had blood on it from being used to cover the woman’s body who had been shot a day earlier. Her body had been taken out of the wagon only that morning and left beside the trail. No effort had been made to bury her.

Tess drew her knees up and shivered in the chill evening. Not quite dark yet , she thought. It’ll probably get cold toward morning. A fire sure would feel good . Knowing they wouldn’t get one, she closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

Just after full dark, the breed walked toward the tent where Bessie had been taken. Tess saw this, having heard some of the men calling out to him to check on the young man. Their laughter rolled across the camp. Whitehorse called back to them with crude remarks of his own.

In front of the tent, he stopped and yelled, “Raphael! What’s goin’ on in there? You still tryin’ to tame that little filly?”

He paused, listening. No sound came out of the tent.

Tess sat up, listening herself. Something’s wrong . She inched closer to the bars that

formed the side of the wagon.

“Raphael!” Whitehorse, the breed, called out again. “Come out here so we can see you’re all right. Has that little filly wore you completely down?”

His laughter stopped when there was no response from the tent. He jerked open the entrance flaps, looked inside. Immediately, he withdrew his head and shouted, “Billy! Manuel! Come here!”

The two men ran over to Whitehorse and joined him inside the tent. In a moment, they drug the young man out. He was out cold, blood covering his scalp above his eyes.

Snake Eyes strode up, a scowl on his face. “What happened?”

Whitehorse answered, “It looks like the girl knocked Raphael out somehow and got out the back of the tent.”

Snake Eyes ripped aside the entrance flap to the tent and looked for himself. “Find her!” he ordered Whitehorse.

The breed got four men up and on horseback within five minutes. They took off behind the tent.

“What happened?” Sarah asked from behind Tess.

“I think Bessie hit that boy and got away,” Tess explained. “She obviously wasn’t as out of her head as she wanted us to think.”

“Do you think she’ll get away?”

“I don’t know. If she’s smart enough to fool everybody, maybe she has a chance.” Tess settled back against the front wall of the wagon. “Snake Eyes sent riders out to try to find her.”

The whole time the riders were out, Snake Eyes stomped around the camp cursing

anything and anyone who he encountered. One of the men didn’t move out of his way fast enough and got kicked in the butt for his trouble.

A bit over an hour later, a commotion at the far end of the camp caught everyone’s attention. Tess crawled over to the side of the wagon and peered out between the bars. She saw Snake Eyes turn in the direction of the noise and stand with arms crossed over his chest.

Then she saw a rider come walking his horse into the camp. His rope was snubbed around his saddle horn and tied to the hands of the young girl, Bessie. She stumbled and went down on her face in the dirt. The man just dragged her the rest of the way until he stood in front of Snake Eyes.

“Here is the girl, Jefe,” he announced to Snake Eyes.

Snake Eyes slowly walked to her, used one boot to turn her over onto her back. For a long minute, he stared at the girl. Then, he directed his gaze to everyone in the camp. All of the men and then the women. He stopped when his eyes fell on Tess.

“Untie her,” he said quietly, his eyes never leaving Tess’s. He stood like that, eyes locked on Tess while his men did as he said.

“Done, Jefe,” Whitehorse reported.

“Strip her,” Snake Eyes said in that quiet voice.

Again, his eyes never left Tess’s as his men did the task. It seemed to Tess he was telling her that he expected her to control the other women. But that was silly, wasn’t it? Why would he want her to control the women? She wasn’t their leader. She was a captive, also.

Once again, Whitehorse let Snake Eyes know the girl was naked. Only then did Snake Eyes let his gaze go to the girl. Tess felt the release like something physical.

“All right,” he said, again in that quiet voice. “Every one of you, take her. Every one!” Then he turned back to the wagon with the women and raised his voice. “And you women watch. Every one of you! If I see any of you not watching, I will beat you!”

Over the next hour, every one of the men raped Bessie. During the first several, she screamed and tried to fight. But about halfway through the torture, she became quiet and docile, as if she gave up.

When they were finished, she just lay there on the ground. The only way Tess could tell the girl still lived was by her chest going up and down as she breathed.

Snake Eyes stepped over to the girl. He took out a large knife, bent down over the girl, pulled her head up, and cut her throat. Bessie’s eyes flared open as the knife sliced across her throat, but she made no sound. Blood gushed with every heart beat until there clearly was no more in her body.

When Snake Eyes was satisfied she was dead, he lifted his eyes to Whitehorse. “Put her in the wagon with the other women.”

Two of the men picked up Bessie’s body and carried it to the wagon. While Whitehorse held the door open, they roughly tossed the body inside.

While Whitehorse re-locked the door, Snake Eyes stood at one side of the wagon and said, “That should help you women remember this: No one runs away from Snake Eyes! No one!” Then he walked off.

Tess and the other women cringed away from Bessie’s body. Never had she seen anything so brutal in her entire life. What kind of man was this who would have all of his men rape a girl because she wanted to run away from him?

Snake Eyes motioned Whitehorse to join him. “Now we’ve lost two women. The rest won’t be enough for what I want to do. We’ll have to stop here until we can raid another ranch and get at least one more woman. I should hear from my contact soon; I’ll know then where another ranch is we can raid. Until then, we stay here.”

Whitehorse knew better than to argue with Snake Eyes. But in his heart, he felt this was a mistake.

Chapter Fourteen

The next morning dawned cloudy, the air filled with an expectation of storms. None of the women slept well, if at all, remembering what happened to Bessie. Having her body in the wagon with them helped none at all.

Breakfast was a hurried affair with biscuits and bacon, a little coffee. The air felt cool, the wind obviously blowing through rain. Thunder started shortly after the plates were taken by the cook.

The women weren’t allowed out of their wagon. Even as they ate, they had to stare at Bessie’s body. Two of the women couldn’t eat, they only cried.

It seemed the rain waited on the thunder before it began to fall. Wind pushed it hard. At times, the rain looked like it fell sideways. In a matter of minutes, the women were soaked. All they had were the blankets they slept beneath. These were little protection from the rain.

Fortunately, there was only rain and wind with very little lightning. When it was over, Whitehorse and two other men approached the back of the wagon. Whitehorse unlocked the door and motioned the other two men forward. They lifted Bessie’s body out of the wagon and carried it over to a small depression at the base of a pile of sand. They lowered the body none too gently into the depression, then shoveled the sand over it.

Tess and the other women sat spellbound as they watched the men. She tore her eyes away from the scene and glanced around to find Snake Eyes staring at her. In another couple of moments, he looked away, then strode back to his tent.

The rest of that day, they did nothing but sit in the wagon. They were allowed out a few times to relieve themselves and to help the cook with lunch. Otherwise, they just sat and shivered in the cold drizzle that fell nearly all day. Late in the afternoon, the drizzle stopped and some of the clouds blew away.

Snake Eyes never came out of his tent. Whitehorse took his food to him at mealtime, otherwise, no one saw him the entire day.

Close to the time the sun touched the hills in the west, Tess and Sarah were again chosen to help the cook with supper. As she walked toward the chuck wagon, Tess heard thunder in the near distance.

When they got to the wagon, the cook said, “You women hurry up with supper. We got a storm comin’. I can feel it in my bones. Wanta be finished with this before it hits.”

They worked hard and fast getting the men some supper. By the time they finished and washed up the dishes and pots and pans, thunder rolled across them steadily. Wind blew in gusts, cold from blowing through rain in the west.

This storm sounded like it would be a bad one.

A rain squall came across the camp then, bringing hail the size of robins’ eggs. The trees around them helped shield them from the worst of the ice nuggets.

Two men escorted Tess and Sarah back to their wagon. There was no way the women could stay dry or warm with their soaked blankets. Rain slanted in on them from the west, the side where the storm came from.

More hail pounded down on the camp along with great streaks of lightning and the heavy artillery of thunder. All of the women huddled together in the middle of the wagon to escape the worst of the hail.

Across the camp, a tent blew down, its occupants cursing and yelling for help. Hail fell

steadily with roaring rain.

During a break in the worst of the storm, Whitehorse and two young men came to the wagon. “You women get out here and under this wagon,” he yelled over the wind and thunder. “We’re likely to get bigger hail, an’ the boss don’t want his merchandise damaged.”

None of the women complained about being called ‘merchandise’ if it meant getting under shelter from the hail. They hurried out and crawled under the wagon. Tess waited until the others were under shelter before crawling under herself.

She had a plan. A foolish one, but the best she could come up with. Even if it ended in death, it would be better than what Snake Eyes had planned for them.

Whitehorse talked urgently to the two young men, hardly more than boys, then left them to guard the women and rushed to his own tent. The boys stood in the rain, wrapped in thick ponchos, eager to show their boss they were men enough to do the job.

Tess heard the hail coming before it hit. When it got to the camp, it pounded down in lumps the size of hen’s eggs. Two more tents fell under the onslaught, more men cursing and yelling. Horses were neighing, pulling at the ropes tying them to the picket line. Some men walked among them trying to calm them down but not succeeding.

The hail intensified, becoming as large as goose eggs. Both of the boys guarding them stood it as long as they could, then dove under the chuck wagon to get away from the beating.

Tess glanced around quickly. She saw no one near their wagon. The men all seemed to be distracted with one thing or another.

Sarah caught her eye. The other woman seemed to understand what Tess was going to do. She nodded once, then held her blanket up between Tess and the main body of men.

Hesitating only a moment, Tess crawled out from under the wagon holding her blanket over her head with one hand for some protection from the hail that pounded everything. She planned to ignore the stones that hit her body as much as she could. Once out in the open, she wasn’t so sure she could do that.

The hail thumped into her body, bringing grunts of pain that she hoped couldn’t be heard over the sound of the hail. Her body felt like someone beat it with a walnut limb. She couldn’t stand up and run; that would draw someone’s eye in the lightning flashes. She had to crawl on one hand and her knees. Slow going.

She had crawled about halfway to a nest of boulders close to the place where Bessie was buried when the hail seemed to increase in intensity. For a moment, she thought the pounding would be too much for her. Her back and legs would be bruised for sure. Hopefully, not so bruised as to keep her from moving, but certainly badly bruised.

Just when Tess didn’t know if she could keep going, the hail began letting up. This was her signal to go faster. Once the hail stopped, the men would not be so concerned about horses and tents and might see her.

She rounded one of the larger boulders when the hail stopped. Now, there was only rain falling. The wind continued, as did the thunder and lightning. But she’d been wet and cold before. That she could endure.

Squirming further into the boulder field, she found a spot between two of them that didn’t appear large enough for anyone to get into. There she waited.

Chapter Fifteen

Tess passed an anxious night, waiting for the sounds that would indicate Snake Eyes knew she’d escaped. The alarm never sounded. Rain, wind, and lightning continued all night. Toward dawn, she managed to close her eyes for an hour or so.

Dawn came, and Snake Eyes pushed aside the entrance flaps to his tent. His and one more had not been blown or knocked down during the storm. Even so, he got little rest because of the storm and the sounds of his men gathering up the gear that had been scattered.

He glanced over at the wagon where the women were beginning to stir. They still lay under the wagon, the two young men standing guard around them.

Good. None of my merchandise got damaged in the storm. I’ll have the one called Tess help the cook again with breakfast, then have her rest during the rest of the day. Tonight, I’ll have her again.

These thoughts gave him a feeling of pleasure. He decided to tell Tess himself what he planned for her. The day would warm today, so he might even take her to a stream he knew of near the camp and let her have a bath. Better yet, he might give her a bath.

He continued thinking about this as he strolled to the wagon. Once there, he began looking for Tess. But he couldn’t find her. All of the women wrapped their soggy blankets around their bodies and over their heads for the minimal warmth they would supply, so he couldn’t really see their faces well.

Snake Eyes counted the bodies moving around beside the wagon. Twice he came up with the same number: Six. Six? There should be seven. He started this trip with nine women, two had been killed. There should be seven. But six was all he counted.

“Breed!” he yelled. As soon as Whitehorse stood beside him, Snake Eyes said, “Get the women lined up without the blankets. I think one is missing.”

Whitehorse personally pushed the women into line, jerking off their blankets. Then Snake Eyes looked at each one.

The woman, Tess, was gone!

He walked over to the line of women, stopping in front of the one called Sarah. She was closest to Tess, so she might know something. He stared hard at her, saw fear in her eyes. But something else, too. Was that defiance?

“Where is the woman called Tess?” he asked, making his voice as rough as he could.

“I don’t know,” the woman replied.

“Did she run away in the night?” he demanded.

“I don’t know,” the woman repeated.

Snake Eyes cursed her, then slapped her hard enough to knock her down. To Whitehorse he said, “Bring the two boys who guarded the women to me.”

He walked a little way away from the women who remained standing in line. He waited there.

But he didn’t have to wait long. Whitehorse brought the two boys to stand in front of Snake Eyes. One of the boys trembled noticeably.

For several long seconds, Snake Eyes engaged in his favorite method of intimidation: he

stared. Usually, this worked to get whatever he wanted from people.

“Tell me what happened last night,” he said in that soft, terrible voice.

“Boss, what do you want to know?” one of the boys said. “You told us to guard the women, and that’s what we did.”

“All night? Which one of you slept?”

“Neither one of us slept, Boss. We knew not to do that.” This came from the boy who trembled.

“Then you watched the women all night? Both of you?”

Both of the boys answered in the affirmative.

“Then how do you explain the fact that one of the women is missing?” The last words were shouted.

Both boys jumped and cringed at Snake Eyes’ outburst. They looked near tears.

Finally, one of the boys said in a weak voice, “Wh, when that hail was comin’ down so bad, we, we got under th’ wagon over there.”

Snake Eyes glanced over at the wagons. “Th’ supply wagon or th’ other one?”

“Th’ other one,” the boys said.

“So, you didn’t guard the women all night.” A statement from Snake Eyes, not a question.

“We, we could see ‘em all night,” one boy said.

“But you didn’t guard them all night.” Snake Eyes said this in a flat voice. Neither boy said anything or even look at him. “So, you lied to me.”

With this, he drew his pistol and shot both boys in the middle of their chests from only a few feet away. Both boys were blown back and onto the ground.

Turning away from the bodies, he said to Whitehorse, “Send out four teams of men. Find that woman!”

Three hours later, the teams returned. None of them saw any tracks.

Whitehorse related this to Snake Eyes. “So, Jefe, maybe the rain wiped out any tracks. It rained hard last night.”

“I don’t care! Send them back out. Send them further out!”

“Jefe, if the rain washed out the tracks, it won’t do any good to go further out.” Whitehorse spoke tentatively, knowing how mad his boss was at the time.

“Send them out!” Snake Eyes waved an arm in the general direction outward from camp.

There was no arguing with Snake Eyes when he got in this kind of mood. The breed turned and told the men to go out again, further.

Chapter Sixteen

Rafe never was comfortable around women. Even his two sisters back home were strange creatures to him. Nothing like the three brothers younger than him. He didn’t really know the one brother older than him. With the brothers, they would simply go out behind the barn and settle any disagreements. Usually, since he was next to the oldest, Rafe would win those.

But the girls were different. They could create moods out of thin air and cut him to shreds with their tongues. He had no defense against them. His Ma and Pa always told him to treat women with respect, but the same didn’t seem to apply to his sisters.

When he finally got up the nerve to say something to his Pa about this, he was told, “Just get used to it, Son. Women are strange critters.” No more was said.

Nothing had changed since then as far he could tell. Up to this point in his life, he shied away from any close relationships with women. His only contact had been with some of the soiled doves in a few of the towns he passed through or women in the stores he happened to stop by when he needed something. The former knew what he wanted, gave it, and took his money. The latter he usually said little or nothing to, bought the supplies he needed, and left.

Now, he was saddled with a woman for a partner and didn’t fully understand how that happened. He pondered that as he fried some bacon that morning after Merita moved into camp with him when the man tried to rape her.

Through the night, Rafe woke up more than normal. Each time, he glanced across the fire at blanket-covered body, apparently sleeping peacefully. He never rode with a partner, so he didn’t know if the fact of having somebody else in camp with him caused his interrupted sleep, or if it was that she was a woman. Certainly, the storm with rain and hail didn’t help. They’d found enough of hollow in the side of a hill to be protected from the hail. It had been large enough for the horses, also.

He did have to say this for her: She got right up just before daylight along with him. And went out to gather some wood for the fire without being asked. She’d gone out behind some boulders and taken care of her needs, then saddled up both horses. Now, she was rolling up her bedding and getting it tied behind her saddle.

Maybe she won’t get in the way too much after all , he thought. A glance at the young woman. And she’s not hard to look at .

Merita joined him at the fire, sitting on a bit of log Rafe drug up to the fire the night before. “Smells good,” the young woman said. “But isn’t this supposed to go the other way around? The woman serving the man?”

Rafe grinned, handed her a plate with bacon and fried bread. “I been doin’ for myself so long, I wouldn’t know what to do if somebody waited on me.”

She bit into the food. “Tastes good, too. I’m surprised a man on the trail can cook like this.”

Rafe didn’t know what to say, so he just ducked his head and grinned. He dished up his own breakfast and dug in. Wonder how this’s gonna go with a partner? I never had one before, so I don’t know what to expect. But I do have to say, this woman’s pretty handy around camp. That’s a good sign, at least. I don’t know what she’ll be like if we get in a fight .

A glance over at her showed her using the last of her bread to soak up more bacon grease. He smiled, went back to his own meal.

Once they finished and cleaned up the dishes, Rafe packed everything up in his saddle bags and a sack he tied behind his saddle along with his bedroll. They started off again.

The wagon tracks had been almost washed out by the rain and wind and hail from the storm. They rode in the same direction they’d been going the night before.

“Are you sure this is the right way?” Merita asked as she studied the ground on both sides of her horse. “I can’t see any tracks.”

“Don’t have to see the tracks to know they’re there,” Rafe replied. He looked ahead of them a little way. “See the ruts ahead, the way th’ sun’s shinin’ across them?”

She squinted ahead beneath the brim of her hat. “Yes, I can see them!” She turned to him, a grin across her face.

That grin set Rafe’s heart beating faster. When he became aware of this, he pushed it aside. Need to focus on followin’ this trail , he told himself.

“How did you know that?” Merita let her horse ease closer to his.

“Some things you pick up out on the trail,” he replied. “Helps you stay alive.”

“I’m glad you let me team up with you,” she said. “I don’t think I could have gotten this far by myself.”

Rafe kept his eyes locked on the ground which was now rocky. He had to concentrate so he could pick up any small traces that had been left by the wagons. “You did all right when that man came to your camp,” he said almost offhandedly.

“Are you seeing something that makes you think they came this way?” Her horse walked

so close to Rafe’s that their stirrups touched.

He tried to push that away. “Yeah. Ever’ once in a while, there’s a scar on a rock where a hoof or a wagon wheel scraped it.” He stopped, pointed to a patch of dirt between the rocks. “See there where a horse or a mule slipped off that rock? Scarred the rock an’ left a partial print in th’ dirt.”

“I see it now. Most people would’ve missed it.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Lots of folks could see it.” Rafe knew his face would be red if he raised it to face her now.

He kept on searching and following the signs he found. Merita continued riding close to him. In a couple of hours, they came upon a small area that had water and a patch of grass. There were indications of the wagons being driven into this area, and it looked like they stayed for a while. Horse droppings piled up at one edge of the trees.

“Looks like they camped here for a night.” Rafe stopped his horse and sat there, scanning the area closely. Over at one edge of the camp, he saw where the wagons had been parked and the tracks going in and going out. He gazed in the direction they led. “They went this way.”

Once again they got on the trail, this time with clear tracks to follow, so they made good time. A half hour later, Rafe saw something lying beside the trail. He pulled up.

“What is it?” Merita asked. She had backed off a little from riding right beside him.

“Something on the ground up ahead,” he replied as he searched the land around them. He knew there were plenty of places for someone to hide off the trail in ambush. Did the raiders leave one of the women behind to draw him out while they waited off the trail to kill him? Did they even know he was on their trail? Had Tess said something about him, and they figured out he would try to rescue her? Probably not the latter, because she didn’t know he was coming.

No matter. He had the job to do and would do it. Tess was family.

He kneed his horse ahead. Keeping an eye on the land, he slipped his pistol out of the holster to have it ready.

The buckskin snorted when they got close to what Rafe saw. He smelled the stink of death.

“What is it?” Merita rode a little way behind him.

“A woman’s body.” Rafe sat his horse for another few minutes, scanning the country around. Nothing moved. Finally, he decided it was safe to dismount and see who it was. He holstered his pistol, dismounted, and turned the body over. It wasn’t Tess. He had no way of knowing who it was.

Merita dismounted and moved up beside him. “Any idea who she was?”

“No. Probably one of the women who were taken before Tess.” He looked over the body, moved the clothes to cover her better. “Must’ve fought them when they tried to rape her. She got shot for her trouble.”

“That was just plain murder!” Merita grabbed his arm. “Why would they do that?”

Rafe didn’t ordinarily like to be touched, but he found himself enjoying the young woman’s hand on his arm. “One of the benefits of bein’ in this gang is raping the women before they get ‘em to Mexico to sell.”

“What kind of men would do that?”

“Men who steal women to sell will do just about anything they want.” Rafe looked around for a place to bury the woman so coyotes wouldn’t get her. “It’s like they figure that’s what the women will have to endure once they’re in Mexico, so why not let ‘em know what’s comin’?” He pointed to an arroyo a short distance away. “We’ll bury her over there. I’ll be able to come back later and get her to take her to her family. Can you get her legs?”

Together they carried the woman’s body to the arroyo where Rafe caved an overhang onto it. That was the best they could do for her at the moment. In ten minutes, they were back on the trail, Rafe plagued by thoughts of what could be happening to Tess right that minute.

Chapter Seventeen

The tiny spot Tess found between two boulders didn’t look big enough for a small girl to hide in, much less a grown woman. But a few feet in, the space widened out so that she could lie down fully or sit up against the rocks. The ground in the space between the boulders was a mixture of dirt blown in by the constant winds and sand. Overall, it was a lot more comfortable than the wagon.

She heard Snake Eyes and Whitehorse yelling at the men to split up into four groups and head out to find her. She also heard the two shots and figured Snake Eyes had killed the two young guards. Tess couldn’t feel sorry for them.

She listened very intently for any sounds of the men coming to search the boulders. But they never did. Like she hoped, they didn’t think she would stay so close to camp. The first thing most people would do was to put as much distance between them and the camp as possible.

After a bit, the camp became quiet. I guess the men all left looking for me. Now’s the time to try to get some food. I have to have something to start with .

Easing back between the two boulders that formed the entry to her hiding place, Tess peered around one of them. She only let one eye show.

Nothing moved in the camp. Either all the men except for a couple to guard the other women were gone, or an elaborate trap had been set, waiting for her to show herself. It didn’t matter, she had to get to the chuck wagon and grab some food.

She sat there another half hour, watching the camp for some sign that someone was lying in wait to grab her. Still nothing moved. The distance from the rocks where she hid to the chuck wagon looked like a mile. No cover of any kind. All she could do was keep the wagon between her and the rest of the camp and hope for the best.

No need to wait any longer. Waiting just made the whole thing grow bigger and less likely to succeed in her mind.

She set out.

Crawling seemed the best way to go. It would give people less to see, and if she kept it slow, the movement wouldn’t draw the eye of anyone who decided to glance her way. For once she was glad her dress was so dirty. It would blend in with the land better.

Heart thrashing around in her chest, Tess made herself start crawling. She tried to make herself move slower than a desert tortoise. Even moving slowly, she would leave a trail. Going back to the boulders, she had to remember to scatter dirt over the sign she left. It wasn’t much, but it was all she could do. It might fool someone just taking a quick look that way.

Last night, crawling to the cover of the boulders, the only harmful thing that went with her all the way was the hail that bruised her body. This morning, it was the fear of being caught.

If she was seen, she determined to herself to fight like she’d never fought before. First, she would run. This might invite a bullet, but that would be better than what happened to Bessie.

Don’t think about that now. Just focus on moving slow and staying behind that wagon .

She heard nothing but the blowing wind and a hawk in the distance. About halfway to the wagon, she heard a horse stomp away a fly. So there is at least one man left in camp. Probably more to guard the women.

The sun on her back warmed her. It felt good after the days of cold and rain. Maybe

with the wet ground, she wouldn’t leave as much of a trail as she thought before. Her hand came down on the sharp point of a rock that lay almost buried in the dirt.

This brought a gasp from her mouth before she could stop it. Sinking lower to the ground, she looked under the wagon to see whether anyone might have heard and was coming to investigate the sound.

Nothing.

Nearly to the wagon, she heard voices. Low, urgent voices. It sounded like the breed, Whitehorse, saying something to a guard. Probably warning him to be alert.

Tess froze where she was for a long minute after the voices stopped. She was probably ten feet, no more, from the wagon.

Any minute, the cook could come to the end of the wagon to get something and see her. Tess stood and covered the ten feet in three long steps.

Molding herself to the large wheel at the back of the wagon, she listened again. Still nothing.

She eased to the very back of the wagon and peered around the canvas cover. No one there. The cook was somewhere else.

Tess knew he could appear at any time.

She slowly reached around the boxed in area at the rear of the chuck wagon. Feeling her way slowly, careful not to dislodge anything that would make any sound, she felt for the sack of buffalo jerky she knew the cook kept there. She didn’t think it would be missed. It was only a small sack.

Seconds passed like hours as she continued to listen and feel for the sack. At last she felt

what she thought was it. Carefully grasping it in her hand, she began pulling it toward her.

Then it stuck on something!

She didn’t know what it might have gotten stuck on. And she didn’t dare move her head out in the open where she could see. All she could do was keep on pulling gently on the sack and hope it would come loose.

Gentle pulling seemed to do nothing. Then the sack moved, just a fraction of an inch.

Stuck again, she continued pulling. If the sack was hung up on a stack of plates or something like that, she ran the risk of pulling them down and creating a racket. That would get her caught.

But she had to have that jerky. It would give her something to keep up her strength for the trials to come.

She had to take that risk.

Gently pulling on the sack, she felt it begin to move again. Slowly, slowly it moved. But it did move.

Then, suddenly, it was free! She pulled the sack to her and held it cradled to her breast with both hands.

A moment only she stood like that, listening. When she heard nothing, she eased down onto hands and knees again, this time going backward.

The crawling was slower this time. She could only go a short way, then pause to wipe across the trail she left. There wasn’t much she could do to cover up what she left. Any disturbance would show someone passed that way. At places, she patted down the marks she left, at others sifted dirt or sand over them.

What she did would fool no good tracker, but hopefully it would make the trail harder to see by the casual observer. In this way, she crawled back to the small space between the boulders.

Once there, she squirmed through the small opening and made her way back to the larger space. There, she settled down to wait the day away.

Throughout the day, riders returned to the camp, reported finding nothing, got a bite to eat, then left again. Each time, Snake Eyes berated them for their incompetence. Tess listened to this from her hiding spot.

About mid-day, she allowed herself a small piece of jerky. She had barely enough moisture in her mouth to soften the meat so she could chew it. There was no water.

The rest of the day passed slowly. Tess tried to sleep to make the time pass faster until night. She managed only brief naps from which she was awakened by terrible dreams of Snake Eyes catching her and what he would do afterwards.

The heat built up among the boulders as the sun eased across the sky. Sweat soaked her dress, then cooled her as a breeze sprang up. Not more hail, please not more hail . Rain would be good. It would give me something to drink.

But neither rain nor hail came. Just the hot sun.

At least it isn’t the middle of summer. I’d never last if it was .

This thought set her to thinking more about the sun and water. She knew a strong man could last at least a couple of days without water. But what about a woman? Was there a difference in how long she could last?

“Makes no difference,” she muttered, keeping her voice very low. “I’ll be as strong as I

have to be. I’ll get out of here! I’ll be strong!”

She noticed a tiny strip of shadow growing on the side of the boulder where the sun was beginning its slide toward the west. Scooting over there, she leaned against the rock and felt cooler. Maybe it was just her imagination, but that didn’t matter.

Tess sat there and dozed as the sun retreated down the western slope of the sky. The shadow grew around her, and the coolness gained reality.

Thirst threw its stifling mantle around her. Once, she picked up a tiny pebble and stuck it in her mouth to get the saliva flowing some. It helped for a while.

She knew she should get used to being thirsty. It was far to home. How far? Four days travel, forty miles a day in the wagons over fairly level ground. Close to two hundred miles!

Would Edward send some of the hands after her? If so, how long after she was taken did they get started?

No matter. Tess knew she had to depend on no one but herself to get back home. A long way, but she was healthy. Healthy and strong. Finding water would be her greatest problem. With no way of carrying it, she would have to rely on finding it along the way. She couldn’t risk trying to steal a canteen or water bag from the chuck wagon.

All she could do was get started as soon as it was good and dark. That, and pray.

She heard the men come back in at dusk. None of them had found any sign of her passage. Because there wasn’t any. Snake Eyes cursed and yelled at them.

Full dark came with the sounds of supper being cooked, then eaten. No one bothered any of the other women. That was good. Having them focus on her would keep them away from the others.

Everyone settled down early after riding the countryside all day. Tess waited an hour after the last sounds from the camp to leave her hiding place.

She skirted the edge of the camp and made her way to the stream that flowed along through the trees. Careful to move slowly and not disturb the horses, she slipped through the trees to a small pool. There she laid down on her belly and drank her fill. She dipped her arms into the cool water, reveling in the way it felt on her blistering skin. Careful not to splash the water, she then bathed her face and neck. She didn’t want to get completely wet because the night would get chilly toward morning.

Again she drank her fill, ate another small piece of jerky, drank again. Then, determined to face her trials, she set off on her journey home. She went west, thinking Snake Eyes would believe she went back north toward her ranch. He wouldn’t think I’d head off into the badlands. Nobody goes there unless they have to.

I have to .

Chapter Eighteen

Snake Eyes lifted the cover flap of his tent and stood outside before dawn. The beginning of the day found his mood as foul as the day before. Sleep eluded him except for a brief nap in the very early morning. The combination of nightmares and fuming over Tess’s escape blew sleep away.

The breed, Whitehorse, hurried up to him. Wisely, he said nothing, just stayed very alert.

“Get them up,” Snake Eyes said in his high, quiet voice. “Everyone.”

Whitehorse hurried off. In only minutes, all the men were saddled up and ready to ride out again. They took another ten minutes to gulp down coffee and biscuits. No bacon for them that morning.

“Get them together here,” Snake Eyes directed the breed. He stood, arms crossed over his chest, staring at the men as they gathered. Very few of them even would glance his way.

Once the men stood in front of him, some holding the reins of their horses as they stood, others sitting on their horses. Snake Eyes stared from one face to the other.

“I want three groups,” he said. “All of you head back north. Spread out. The first one to cut sign, signal the others with two shots. Then all of you follow the sign.” He paused a moment. “Bring that woman back to me!”

One of the men made the mistake of muttering loud enough for Snake Eyes to hear. “We done this yesterday.”

As soon as the man uttered these words, Snake Eyes drew and fired, hitting him square

in the chest. As the men struggled to control their startled horses, he shouted, “And you’ll do it again today! And every day until you find her! Get that woman! Now get out of here, and not a man returns until dark!”

Whitehorse waved the men away and watched as they left, splitting up into three groups. After a few moments, he turned to Snake Eyes. “Boss, we’re losing a lot of time staying here.”

Snake Eyes didn’t respond for a moment. He worked hard at controlling his fury. At first, he wanted to shoot the breed, too. But he realized the man was right. Didn’t matter. “We’ll stay here as long as I want. That woman can’t get away. And I haven’t heard from my contact about another ranch to raid.” He met Whitehorse eye-to-eye. “We stay here. Get that,” he motioned to the man’s body, “out of here.”

Snake Eyes walked away. They have to find her. Bring her back. And when they do, what I’ll do to her will make what we did to that other girl look like a party. I can’t have someone getting away from me. It will give the other women hope. That’s one thing I don’t want them to have. It will make the men see me as weak, too. I can’t have that.

Then he stopped. There is a ranch further south and a little east of here. We could go on another day, scout the ranch, raid it if there are women there, then go on to Mexico . He turned to Whitehorse. “Get ready! We’ll travel one more day. There’s a ranch we might raid.”

The breed was used to his boss’s sudden changes of mind. He also knew better than to question any of those changes. He quickly got the few men left busy getting the wagons ready. They were on their way a half hour later. The men they sent out would have to follow their tracks and catch up if they could.

Tess walked the night away. It was hard going, she could hardly see because there was clouds covered the moon. Likely she only made ten or twelve miles while it was dark. As it began getting closer to sun up, she could see better. While it was still cool, she increased her pace.

Somewhere ahead, not far she thought, there was supposed to be a stream. She heard of it from Edward, so she hoped it was true.

Just after the sun crept above the horizon to the east, she struggled up a small hill. Her strength was nearly gone after walking without stopping. All she could think about was putting distance between her and Snake Eyes’ camp.

At the top of the hill, she looked down into the small valley below. A small grove of trees showed water there. Right where Edward said.

Turning to scan the country behind her, she saw nothing. No dust, no group of riders. By now, Snake Eyes would have men scouring the country for her. Hope began to bloom in her heart. Maybe her plan worked. Maybe they looked for her to the north.

She walked down the hill to the trees. Once there, she lay down in the water, drinking as much as she could, soaking her dress against the heat that would build up during the day. Again, she allowed herself one small piece of jerky. Then she drank again.

Finally, she crawled away from the water, found a sheltered place that would provide shade most of the day, and lay down. The small hollow also was shielded from sight. Overall, a good place to sleep the day away. Then, when she woke up, she would start north. North for home.

Tess slept the sleep of the exhausted. So deep she didn’t even dream. Almost too deep.

Later that day, she awoke to the sound of voices. For a few moments, she had no idea where she was. Had she been dreaming? Did she awaken in the back of that wagon in Snake Eyes’ camp? No. That didn’t seem right. She’d escaped from there.

Then it came back to her. She’d slept in hiding near a water hole. Now, she heard voices.

Listening closer, she didn’t understand what was being said. She heard literally a foreign language.

Slowly, she eased toward the edge of the trees that hid her. Peering around a tree with one eye, she saw a small group of Indians gathered around the water hole. She counted seven of them.

Cheyenne! What are they doing here? They’re way out of their territory .

The Cheyenne looked like a hunting party; they wore no paint. But there weren’t any woman or children with them, so they weren’t moving across the country. All were young men, and young men wanted to prove themselves. Possibly, they had been raiding down in Mexico and now were on their way home. She saw a fresh scalp on one of the lances.

Tess watched the young Indians without showing herself. It didn’t look like they were aware she was there. Then, Tess thought, Did I leave any tracks?

She tried to see whether there were any. Couldn’t tell. And she knew she hadn’t taken any precautions by trying to cover her tracks. She’d been too exhausted. That was not a good way to be in this country with men hunting her.

But from the actions of the Indians, they didn’t see any, either. She took heart from

that, at least. She lay back, stayed out of sight, and watched them. What she would do if they

did find tracks, she had no idea.

The Indians stayed only a short while. They watered their horses and themselves, then left.

Tess waited for a long time after they left before she moved. She stayed ready to run the entire time. Only gradually did she relax.

It was a long time before sleep returned.

Chapter Nineteen

Rafe spent another long night in camp with Merita. He awakened every hour or so, looked over at her sleeping soundly, then went back to sleep. When he did sleep, it wasn’t restful.

With the coming of the dawn, he was up and starting the fire. Not long after, Merita got up and did what she usually did.

They were on the trail again in less than an hour.

The trail proved easy to follow. The wagons left clear tracks across the prairie. Except in places. Wind scoured places in the prairie down to rock where the soil was thin. In some places, this went on for several miles. There, Rafe had to get down and walk, keeping a close eye on the ground so he wouldn’t miss even the smallest sign. He also stopped frequently to scan the country around them for any sign of others. He didn’t know if the raider had men out to protect them from surprise ambushes. This made the going slow.

“Can you see the trail?” Merita rode up behind him.

“Bits an’ pieces,” Rafe replied. “Enough to see we’re still goin’ th’ right way.” He pointed south.

“How can you be sure?” Merita didn’t sound like she doubted, just that she wanted to know.

“Found a partial track back there,” he said, pointing a few yards back. “Goin’ in the same direction. Look here,” he knelt down, showed her a scar on the rock. “See the way this scar looks? It was made by a horse or a mule walking south.” He stood again. “We’re still on their trail. Nobody else out here except cowboys countin’ cows. An’ we haven’t seen any cows, so the ranch hands will be someplace else.”

Half a day passed in this slow manner. Walking, checking the rocks for scars, the bare places for partial hoof prints. Rafe kept an eye on the thunderheads building continually in the west. He didn’t want to get caught out in the open in a spring thunderstorm.

Finally, they left the rocks behind. Rafe mounted again and kept on the trail from horseback. About the middle of the afternoon, they came upon what looked like a camp site that showed recent use.

“Looks like they stopped here not long ago,” he said as he rode slowly around the area. “There were tents set up here. And here’s where the wagons were.” He pulled up at a dark spot on the ground, dismounted. “Looks like somebody lost a lot of blood here. Lot of tracks all around.”

“Over here!” Merita called. She had been riding along the edges of the camp and stopped at a small arroyo.

Rafe re-mounted and rode over to her side. “What is it?”

“Looks like three bodies.” She pointed down at three men lying in obvious death sprawls.

Rafe dismounted and slid down into the arroyo. In a couple of minutes, he climbed back up to her. “All of them shot at close range. Nothin’ in their pockets.” He glanced back across the camp site. “I didn’t see any sign that there was a fight or anything. I wonder if there was some kind of disagreement about somethin’, an’ these three were on th’ losin’ side?”

“It looks like there’s something over there.” Merita pointed a little way down the arroyo. “The side of this gulley has been caved in.”

Rafe led his buckskin down the rim of the arroyo to the place Merita pointed out. There were tracks that showed someone had carried something to that spot. The tracks leaving were not as deep as the tracks coming to it. And the rim of the arroyo had been caved in to cover something up.

He ground hitched the buckskin and climbed down to the spot that had been covered. A few minutes shoving dirt around revealed the torso of a young woman. Another minute, and he had her face uncovered. She was naked, and her throat had been cut.

Rafe heard a gasp and saw Merita looking down from the rim. “Is, is that one of the women who were kidnapped?”

“Appears so.” Rafe carefully covered her up again.

“What are you doing? Aren’t we going to bury her?” Merita’s voice sounded shaky.

“Can’t do much more’n what’s already been done for her.” He looked up and down the arroyo. “I’ll bring some rocks to put over her to keep th’ varmints away. We’ll have to remember this place an’ come back to get her later. I’m sure her family will want to bury her proper.”

Merita climbed down in to the arroyo to help him. In a short while, they had the body covered well. Their efforts should keep the coyotes off the body, especially with the other bodies readily available.

Once they finished and climbed back out, the sun had traversed the sky to the point of

almost touching the western rim. Rafe looked to the west where thunderheads built up, their

tops spreading out in the classic anvil formation, the bottoms black with stored-up water. He wiped the sweat from his face, feeling the increased humidity.

“Those storms are gonna hit here pretty soon,” Rafe said. “This looks like a good place to ride ‘em out. Let’s get back in those trees by th’ stream an’ see if there’s an overhang we can get under.”

“What about those men?” Merita jerked a thumb over her shoulder toward where the bodies lay. “It doesn’t seem right to just leave them lying there.”

“It’s not right what they did with those women, either,” Rafe replied as he gathered the reins of the buckskin and started walking toward the trees. “Kidnappin’ ‘em, doin’ who knows what to ‘em while they have ‘em. Then plannin’ on sellin’ ‘em down in Mexico.” He shook his head. “Far’s I’m concerned, they’ll lay where they are. They made a wrong choice in life, an’ now they’ve suffered the consequences.”

“They might have families somewhere, too.” Merita caught up with him. “Families that will want to know what happened to their people.”

“May be,” Rafe agreed, nodding. “But how you gonna find ‘em? There was nothin’ in their pockets to tell who they were. Nothin’ we can do.”

“You’re cold-hearted.” A flat statement, said as if she’d had experience dealing with cold-hearted men before.

He stopped, faced her. “Yes, Ma’am. That’s been said of me before. Maybe it’s true. I don’t want to think it is, though. I don’t know how long you’ve been in the West, but out here people make their choices and deal what comes because of ‘em. Those men made choices. Bad ones. Now they’ve paid for ‘em. Nothin’ more to be said about that.” He saw she was about to say more, but jumped back in. “This is a hard country, Ma’am. People take up hard ways to handle it. That’s just the way it is.”

Rafe turned back the way they were headed and started walking again. He knew she was standing there, wanting to say something or wanting him to apologize or something. And he didn’t care. Right now, the most important thing was to find them a dry spot to get through the coming storm.

At the place where the trees backed up to the hill behind, there was a place where the wind and rain had scoured sand and dirt off a large shelf of rock. The rock had one side buried in the hill, the other resting on some huge boulders. It formed a perfect roof, big enough for both of them to get under comfortably.

Rafe unsaddled the buckskin and rubbed him down with a bit of burlap he carried in his saddle bag for this purpose. When he finished, he led the horse out to a patch of grass and hobbled him. All the time, thunder built to the west.

When he got back to the overhand, Merita was there, unsaddling her horse. Neither of them said anything. While she cared for her horse, he went in search of firewood. With the trees, there were plenty of downed limbs lying on the ground. In only a few trips, he had enough wood in the dry to last the night.

After he got a fire going, Rafe started on their supper. “What can I do to help?” Merita asked. She didn’t meet his eye as she spoke.

“Think you can make the coffee?” He tried to put a smile in his voice.

Her head jerked up quickly when he said this. Then she saw the twinkle in his eye. She smiled, ducked her head, then fixed the coffee.

Their supper was small, but filling. Later, they lounged on their blankets drinking the last of the coffee.

“Why would they cut that poor girl’s throat?” Merita asked into the silence. “She wasn’t much more than a child.”

Rafe had been almost dozing, but perked up at the question. “Don’t know for sure. My

guess is she did something the head man didn’t like. Must’ve been really bad.”

“But she was so young! Why would those men take her?”

Rafe thought a moment. How much should he tell this young woman he didn’t know at all? What did she know about men and women and the things men could do to women? She must know enough; she killed that man who tried to attack her.

“Some men like really young girls. The younger, the better. That girl would have brought a really good price in some places in Mexico.” He sipped the last of his coffee. “She must’ve done somethin’ really bad to get herself killed like that.”

After a few moments’ quiet, Merita went on. “I still don’t understand why men steal women and sell them.”

“Lots of reasons. Men steal women to sell ‘em because they think it’s easier than gettin’ a real job. More money faster than workin’. An’ there’s always a market in some places. No shortage of men, and women, willin’ to buy women.” He paused, just long enough to take a deep breath. “An’ there are always men willin’ to rent women for … well, you know. Men who can’t for one reason or another find or support a wife. So they do the next best thing in their eyes. They pay money for a part-time woman.”

“That’s not right!” Merita went on. “I know some women choose that kind of life. Sometimes because they like it, sometimes because they don’t any other way to make a living. But being forced to do it! That’s something else altogether. And there’s something wrong with men who do that to women. Steal them, I mean!”

Just then, a flash of lightning speared across the sky right over their heads. Thunder enveloped them in a blast of sound that made them think they sat in the middle of an explosion. Immediately behind, a rush of rain that sounded almost as loud as the thunder.

Through the night, Rafe and Merita stayed relatively dry. Except when the wind pushed the rain into their camp. The second half of the night was wet.

Still, it was better than being fully out in the weather.

When Merita scooted over close to Rafe to get warm, he began thinking maybe being out in the weather would be a better choice.

Chapter Twenty

That same day that Rafe and Merita found Bessie’s body, Tess woke up to a sweat-soaked afternoon. Once sure the Indians were really gone, she’d relaxed enough to sleep again.

Now, she lay in what little shade she found among the boulders. And little it was.

For a few minutes, she lounged in the aftermath of sleep, thinking and planning for the journey that faced her. She knew there would be trials. Severe trials.

A long distance to cover on foot. Difficult country to cross. Weather that could turn bad in a matter of a few minutes. Raiders to avoid. Little food to get by on. No way to carry water.

At the thought of water, her thirst almost overwhelmed her. Even as she slept, she lost precious body fluid to the sun and its effects. This country could suck a person dry in a number of ways. Sweating, of course. Sometimes just standing still would bring a sweat, it got that hot. But something many didn’t understand was the wind and how it could also pull out the moisture people needed to live. And the wind always blew.

She slowly stretched the kinks out of arms, legs, and back. Then, very careful to stay silent and unseen, she crept to the edge of the boulders and peeked around with one eye.

The next few minutes crept on a snail’s back as she examined the area she could see. Listening brought nothing to her ears. Only the thunder that muttered and grumbled in distant canyons to the west.

Still, she crept out, watching all around.

At the small pool, she lay down on her stomach to drink her fill. After drinking, she sat up on her knees and combed through her hair with her fingers.

It may have been the thunder that kept her from hearing the young Indian as he eased up behind her.

Tess had both hands at the back of her head, smoothing down her hair as the Indian grabbed her around the body just under her breasts. Hardly more than a boy, the Indian weighed less than Tess’s hundred and twenty-five pounds. If he’d weighed more, they would’ve gone into the water.

As it was, she grunted with the impact of the Indian boy’s body and bent over, almost touching the ground with her forehead. The boy’s momentum carried him nearly right over her back.

Tess recovered quickly. So did the Indian boy.

She scrambled to her feet just in time to meet the boy’s rush. They grappled, each trying for a grip on the other in order to throw them to the ground.

In this, the Indian boy had the advantage. He wore only a breech clout and leggings with his moccasins. Tess’s dress made it easy for him to grab and hold her.

Tess’s advantage was her size and the strength hard ranch work gave her. She shook his hands loose, tearing her dress at the shoulder in the process.

Both of them sweated profusely. This made grappling with the boy very difficult for Tess. The sweat made his skin very slippery.

She knew she couldn’t out-run him, so she had no choice other than to fight with him. And for sure his age was an advantage. With quick glances, she searched for something to use as a weapon.

One of her glances showed a knife in the rawhide strip holding on his breech clout and leggings. Thankfully, he hadn’t pulled it yet. Tess knew he could yank it out at any time. That he had no other weapons with him showed he had expected to overwhelm her.

His mistake in that regard helped Tess.

They grappled again. Tess smelled his sweat and the scent of wood smoke that clung to him. Neither of them said anything beyond the grunts and harsh breath sounds from their fighting.

The young Indian knew more about fighting than Tess thought. Suddenly, he grabbed her around the upper body and fell backward. He pulled Tess down on top of him, then expertly rolled over on top of her.

Tess bucked and flopped around, trying to throw him off. But she couldn’t get a grip on him anywhere.

He swatted her arm away from trying to grab his hair. Her arm hit something solid, more solid than the ground. Frantically, she felt around the ground trying to find what she hoped was a rock.

She didn’t dare move her head to look for the rock. That would tell him what she had in mind. Instead, she kept swatting and clawing at his neck, his chest.

For what seemed like an hour, but was only about a minute, Tess felt around. Finally, her hand gripped what felt like a rock a little larger than her fist.

She dug her fingers under the rock. Fear fueled her strength, and the rock wasn’t very deep under the surface.

Tess grabbed the rock in the palm of her hand and swung it with all she had up to meet

the side of the Indian boy’s head. It landed with a solid, but hollow ‘thunk’.

The boy grunted, fell over on his side, and didn’t move.

Tess just lay there on her back, sucking air into her lungs as deeply as she could. Thank goodness he was alone , passed through her mind. In another moment, she rolled over, the rock at the ready.

She didn’t need it.

The boy lay sprawled on his back, eyes wide to the sun. A red stream flowed from a wound in the side of his head. A projection on the side of the rock was also covered in red.

Tess hated to kill the boy, but he gave her no choice.

She sank back to the ground, breathing hard. The combination of fear and fighting for her life sapped her energy.

How could she go on now? She could barely stand. There were no reserves left. She might be able to lift her head from the sandy ground sometime tomorrow.

Tess lay there, small particles of dirt moving beside her mouth with every breath. She felt like the weight of the entire world lay on her back.

But I have to get up. I can’t stay here. That boy’s friends will miss him soon and come looking for him. They’ll trail him back here. I know .

She stirred, lifted her head and looked around. After a moment, her gaze fastened on the Indian boy. She had to get him out of sight.

Those other Indians could be here at any time. I’ve got to get up .

With a struggle, she got her knees under her and raised up on them. For a moment, her head swam with the effort. A couple of deep breaths, and her head cleared.

She slowly gained her feet with no further problem. Again, she glanced at the boy. What could she do with his body? Looking around, the best place to put him was the place among the boulders where she had slept.

I won’t need the space again, so why not? I just hope I have the strength to move him .

Tess pushed herself, dug deep inside to find something, anything she could use to move the boy’s body. Somehow, she found a reserve of energy and strength to pull from.

Stooping down, Tess rubbed her hands in a sandy spot. That would give her a better grip on the body. With another deep breath, she grasped one of the Indian boy’s arms.

As she tried to move him, she was amazed at how heavy he felt. She had no idea how much of a literal dead weight the boy became. After two failed attempts at moving him, she set her feet and tried again. She didn’t know whether she had the strength to try a fourth time.

Thankfully, the body moved a few inches. Another pull, and it moved a foot. She continued tugging and straining, the body continued to move.

Every time she hit a grassy spot, the body moved more easily. After what felt like hours to Tess, she had the body among the boulders. Getting him far enough into the nest of boulders to be out of sight proved much more difficult.

Finally, with much pushing and shoving, she maneuvered the body in between two large boulders. Once she got him behind the boulders, she took the knife she saw off his belt. It would give her some protection and might come in handy later. She walked away toward the water and looked back. No sign of the body.

Good. But there are lots of drag marks. Anyone with only one eye and that half-blind could see where I dragged the boy .

The Indians could read that sign at a gallop.

Tess felt the pressure of time. The other Indians could ride up in the next five minutes. She hurried back to the place she hid the body and scooped up handfuls of dry dirt. This she piled in the front of the loose skirt she wore.

Then she walked backwards over the drag trail, letting the dirt dribble out over the trail.

“Not perfect, but it’ll have to do,” she muttered when she reached the edge of the stream. Just enough dirt remained to spread loosely over the area where she struggled with the Indian boy.

Thunder rumbled again in the west, sounding close. “Maybe it’ll rain. That means I get wet and cold, but it’ll also wash out the sign.” She continued muttering to herself in a low voice as people alone in the wilderness often do. “I’ll walk in the stream for a ways. It goes generally in the direction I need to go.” A pause, thinking. “First I need to drink all I can, then I’ll soak my dress.” More thunder from the west. “The sun’s hot, so I’ll stay cool walking until it dries out my dress.”

Tess seldom waited to get into action once she made up her mind. No matter how tired she was. This time was no exception. She tied the Indian boy’s knife around her waist with the rawhide he had used. Then she stepped into the water. It came up to middle of her calf.

As she walked, Tess splashed as much water as she could on her dress front. After about fifty yards, the stream curved sharply to the east, so she decided that was a good place to get out.

The ground was harder there with a lot of rocks. Careful to step only on the rocks, she

stopped long enough to drink as much water as she could again. Then, stepping out briskly or as briskly as she could with her muscles feeling squishy, she walked away from the stream.

In a short distance, she rounded the shoulder of a small hill that boasted a grove of willows at its base. When she neared the willows, she heard the nicker of a horse.

Her first thought, Indians! , drove her to the ground. If it was the boy’s friends, she had nowhere to go. All she could do was lie perfectly still and hope they wouldn’t see her.

Tess tried not to even breathe.

Several minutes crawled by with no one showing. Were they waiting for her to move? Did they somehow know she was there, but not exactly where?

She waited.

Sweat stung her eyes, rolled down her face from her hair. An ant bit her arm. The smell of heated dust and growing grass sifted into her nostrils. She heard a far-off hawk call out as it rode the evening thermals hunting supper. Thunder grumbled its way across the plains.

But no Indians appeared.

The nicker of a horse came to her ears again, along with the stamp of a hoof. Indians wouldn’t let their horses make that much noise if they were waiting for her to move. Besides, the sounds came from inside the trees.

Tess raised her head, searched the area as much as she could from the ground. Nothing in sight.

Then it came to her. That Indian boy had a horse. That’s his horse I heard!

After another look around, she got to her feet and started into the trees. If I can get that boy’s horse, it won’t take any time to get back home.

She walked slowly through the trees, not wanting to make a lot of noise and run the chance of scaring the horse. When she stopped to listen, she heard the stomp of a hoof trying to get rid of a horse fly.

Orienting on the sound, Tess made her way between the trees in that direction. In a few moments, she caught a glimpse of movement ahead.

She pushed through the last of the trees and caught sight of the Indian’s horse. It was tied to a long lead rope in reach of water and a little grass.

As she came into the open, the horse’s head popped up, and it stared at her. She watched it take in a deep breath, trying to catch her scent.

“Easy, boy, easy,” she crooned softly as she eased toward the horse. If she could get hold of that lead rope …

She moved slowly, crooning softly the entire time. In a few seconds, she reached out, untied the rope from a tree, and began walking toward the horse.

For a second, she thought she had the horse. The horse let her get within only a few feet before snorting loudly and wheeling away. She had to let go of the rope as it slid through her hand so it wouldn’t burn her. The horse didn’t slow, but kept going away from Tess at a fast trot.

The weight of disappointment so burdened her, she almost collapsed to the branch-strewn ground. Watching the horse trot away, she swiped at a stray tear and took a deep breath. The leaden feeling of exhaustion in her legs grew so that she didn’t know if she could move.

After a moment, she turned back north and started for home. Thunder bounced around her as she walked. Thoughts and images of the Indian pony were pushed from her mind again and again. She determined to keep her face pointed north, no matter what it took.

Chapter Twenty-One

The thunder that had been threatening to carry rain with it fulfilled its promise only a short time after Tess started north again. In that time, she had walked far enough to be in the middle of open prairie.

With the first huge drops just past the time of sunset, she started looking around for cover. There was none. Of course, she couldn’t tell the sun set because of the clouds covering it, but she guessed it was that time.

Lightning flashed from cloud to cloud overhead. “That’s too close,” she muttered as she glanced at the clouds she thought she could reach up and touch. “If it stays up there, it should be no problem. But if it starts striking down here, I could be in trouble.”

She continued walking, but kept her eyes out for an arroyo or a low spot. Either of those might provide some safety if the lightning got too bad. She’d have to be careful in an arroyo, however. A flash flood catching her unaware could carry her away.

At first, the scattered drops struck the earth with such force, they actually bounced back up, raising little puffs of dust. The wind pushed ahead of the storm raised goosebumps on her body.

Shouldn’t have soaked my dress like I did , she scolded herself. Gonna be cold .

She trudged on.

Before long, the solitary drops came faster and faster. In a few minutes, she felt like she walked under a waterfall.

The wind, which before had been a light breeze with stronger bursts, now lashed at her mercilessly, driving rain into her face like ice pellets. What had brought goosebumps before now felt like it froze to her exposed skin. This wind seemed to shift directions often, too. First from the west, hitting the left side of her body. Then from the south, pushing against her back with enough force to cause her to stumble. Another time, it shifted to the north, driving stinging rain directly into her face.

When the rain slashed at her face, she lowered her head and turned away from the wind. As the wind shifted, she turned again. This happened several times. Each time she turned, Tess got farther away from the direction she wanted to go.

After a while, she was so confused about directions, she just sat down to wait out the storm. She hoped she’d be able to see the north star or some landmark to guide her back to the right direction.

Somewhere around midnight, or as near as she could guess, the rain slacked off, then stopped. A mild wind from the west pushed the clouds by where Tess sat.

She shivered, for even that little breeze blew cold through her thoroughly soaked dress. Gathering her dripping hair in both hands, she wrung as much of the water out of it as she could. Pushing the still-wet strands back off her face, she turned her gaze to the sky.

A few second’s search found the Big Dipper and Little Dipper. Following the two stars that formed the bowl of the Big Dipper, she found the North Star in the handle of the Little Dipper. Grunting to her feet, she started walking again.

A quarter-moon provided a minimum of light, just enough to keep her from falling into an arroyo. Not enough for her to avoid rocks that seemed to fly up from the dirt and grass to hit her toes as she walked.

All the rest of the night, Tess plodded on north. Where she found the strength, she

wasn’t sure. First, the fight with the Indian boy took nearly everything she had. Then, sitting through the storm early in the night almost washed away the little energy she had left.

But knowing what Snake Eyes would do to her if he caught her kept one foot going in front of the other. Tess decided if Snake Eyes’ men caught up with her, she would use the Indian boy’s knife on herself.

By the time the sky in the east promised another day, she was stumbling more than walking. Got to find some place to hole up for the day. I’ve got to get some rest. Water would be good, too.

Ahead of her and east a little way, she saw a deeper blackness against the still black of the lingering night. A hill, rocks, or trees would be all right. Any place that would give her some cover and concealment from anyone riding by.

Whether Snake Eyes had his men out looking for her or not, those Indians could still be in the area. There was no way she could walk as far as she did last night and not leave tracks. At least after the storm. That rain would have washed away any tracks from the stream to where it hit her. Maybe that would be enough to keep anyone from finding her.

No matter. I need rest and hopefully water. I’ll go see what that is up ahead and try to make a place to hide today .

A few more minutes walking, and she came up to a grove of trees growing around a seep fed by a trickle of water from what must have been an underground stream. For a couple of minutes, she studied the area to make sure no one was camped there. When she was sure the place was empty, she walked on to the seep.

A tiny rock basin held about two gallons of water from runoff from the rain and the

trickle that oozed up from whatever its source underground. She lay on the rocky ground beside the basin and drank as much as she could. Then she allowed herself a piece of the jerky left in the bag. After she pulled one out, there were three pieces left.

“Not much,” she muttered. “I’ll have to make it last or come up on something else to eat. I can go for a week or so without food, but water is another story. And without food, I’ll get weaker and weaker, not able to walk as far or as fast.”

Once again, she faced the trials of making her way back to the ranch and not getting caught by Snake Eyes’ men or the Indians. Ducking her head, she let slip a couple of tears. How easy it would be to give up, to simply sit there until she died or someone found her.

She sat that way for several minutes, not thinking, just almost giving in to the feeling of hopelessness that drifted down over her like a blanket.

“No!” she said aloud. “I won’t give up! I’ve got to get back and get men on the trail of that bunch of raiders. The other women need me to do that for them.”

Speaking this out loud seemed to give her a bit more strength. She drank again from the seep, then looked around the little grove for a place to hide. At the back of the grove, she found it.

Sometime in the not-too-distant past, two of the trees had been blown over by a storm. They lay nearly parallel to one another, but one slightly on top of the other. In among the branches was a space large enough for her to crawl into and be hidden from sight. There would also be some shade from the heat of the direct sun. Tired as she was, that would be sufficient.

Tess drank one more time, then crawled under the trees and fell asleep in less than a minute.

What seemed like a minute later, voices invaded her deep sleep. Voices that almost sounded familiar. Tess struggled upward out of that deep sleep like climbing through sand. She managed to get one eye partially open, saw the sun had passed the middle of the sky. She’d slept for several hours.

That eye slipped closed again. Once more she slept.

Once more, the voices woke her with a burst of laughter. Who would be out in that part of the prairie? They weren’t Indians; they spoke English. None of their hands would be out this way this time of the year.

That only left Snake Eyes’ men!

Don’t move! Don’t move! she told herself.

Both eyes opened this time and stayed open. She eased up on one elbow, moving slowly. In a few seconds, she raised up high enough to see through the branches.

There, standing around the small basin were four men. Men she had seen before when she was captive in Snake Eyes’ camp. They had found her!

No. No, they haven’t found me. If they knew I was here, they’d have me tied up and on a horse . She heaved a huge sigh, a silent one. They’re only looking for me. And they found this seep. Now, they’re watering themselves and their horses. I just have to stay hidden and quiet. They’ll leave as soon as they’re done watering.

Tess eased back down to the ground. She couldn’t go back to sleep while those men were there. She could move in her sleep and make some noise that would alert them to her being there. She couldn’t make out anything the men were saying, but she figured they were talking about her as they laughed.

As she lay there, another thought came to her. Did I leave tracks?

Once more, she eased up on her elbow. None of the men appeared to be looking around at the ground. Even better, none of them looked toward the trees where she lay. Tess eased back to the ground, breathing a little easier.

She lay in the shade among the branches and listened for the men to leave. It seemed to take hours, but eventually the men mounted their horses and rode away with shouts to each other.

Tess lay still for another half hour before venturing out of her hiding place. She needed another drink. Then she could rest another few hours.

Chapter Twenty-three

Sundown on the afternoon Tess hid from his men, Snake Eyes watched as they, and the others, straggled into camp. He could easily see none of them had the woman with them. And none of them would meet his eye. Several cast sidelong glances at him to measure the level of his anger.

Whitehorse, the breed, stood next to Snake Eyes and saw the muscles at the hinges of his jaws working like he chewed marbles. That, and the narrowed eyes gave some indication that his boss was furious.

Whitehorse eased aside about half a step.

“Get all of them over here,” Snake Eyes muttered.

“Right, Boss.” Glad of a reason to leave his boss’s side, Whitehorse strode over to the men gathered around the chuckwagon. “Everybody over in front of the boss. Right now!”

“How mad is he, Breed?” One of the men summoned up the courage to ask what all of them wanted to know.

Whitehorse glared at him for a moment. “You don’t want to know.” He turned and stalked off to stand by Snake Eyes.

When the men had all gathered in a loose semi-circle in front of him, Snake Eyes simply stood and glared at them. None of them were closer than about twenty feet from him. Still, none of them would look him in the eye. Nevertheless, he stared at each face in turn.

In a few moments, he stopped looking from face to face and ducked his head. Another few seconds passed, then he raised his head. This time, he didn’t look at any one of them in particular.

“Well?” That was all he said.

There came a noticeable shifting among the men. Each one of them fidgeted in some way. Some looked from one to the other, willing someone else to speak. Several shifted their weight from one foot to the other. Others directed their gaze anywhere except at Snake Eyes.

“WHERE IS THE WOMAN?” Snake Eyes yelled.

Several of the men started noticeably. They glanced at him, at each other, at Whitehorse. But no one spoke.

Snake Eyes drew his .45 and fired one round in the air. “The next one goes in somebody’s belly! I want to know where the woman is!”

“Boss,” one of the older men spoke up. “All that rain last night wiped out any sign she might’ve left. We found nothin’ over east.”

“Nothin’ south either, boss.” A younger man in the back spoke up.

“Two of the groups went north, Boss,” Whitehorse reminded him.

Snake Eyes looked at the men. “Who went north?” he demanded.

After a moment, six of the men held up their hands.

“Tell me what you found.” He held the .45 down by his side.

The men glanced at the pistol. One of the men spoke up. “Boss,” he swallowed audibly before going on. “We didn’t find nothin’, neither. Went maybe ten, fifteen miles. Saw tracks, horse tracks. We figger Indians, ‘cause they wasn’t shod horses.”

Another man spoke then. “We seen th’ Injuns, Boss. They was six, seven of ‘em. Looked like Cheyenne. But they’re far off from their usual huntin’ ground.”

“Been raidin’ down in Mexico, I expect,” Whitehorse said.

“Yeah, an’ they didn’t look any too happy, either,” the first man said.

“How do you know when an Injun’s happy?” another one added.

“When they got scalps or extry horses,” one of the older men said.

“I don’t care about INDIANS!” Snake Eyes’ explosion shut them all up. “Did the Indians see you?”

“No, Boss.” Two men answered at the same time.

“Did they look like a raidin’ party?”

“No, Boss.”

Snake Eyes grew quiet again. The men waited.

A few moments later, he said, “Do you want the women?”

The men hesitated. What kind of question was this? Did Snake Eyes have something in mind? If it was, it would be something they didn’t like because he was so mad. They’d seen what he could do when he was mad.

“Sure, Boss,” one of the younger men said.

Snake Eyes grinned. “The only way you get ‘em is to bring me that woman!”

The men looked from one to the other. No one said anything.

A minute passed, then Snake Eyes walked away from them. Whitehorse hesitated, then caught up with him.

“Boss?” he said tentatively.

Snake Eyes glanced back over his shoulder at the breed. “Yeah?”

“We been waitin’ here a long time. You sure that woman’s worth it?” For the breed to

ask this placed him right on the razor’s edge of insubordination. A move that could get him forcibly retired.

Snake Eyes stopped, but didn’t turn around. When he did, it was slow. “It’s what I want, Breed, so it’s worth it.”

Whitehorse just nodded. He decided to take another chance. “Have you found out about another ranch we can raid? To get another woman? The one we’re searching for won’t come easy. She may kill herself.”

For a moment Snake Eyes just stared at him. The breed thought for sure he’d made a mistake and now would pay for it.

Then Snake Eyes’ shoulders slumped and he hung his head for a second. When he raised it back up, he said, “No, I haven’t found out about a ranch. My informant hasn’t contacted me, so we’ll have to wait.” He started to turn and walk away, but stopped and said, “I know this woman will be hard to bring back. But I want to at least see her body. I can’t let her beat me!”

He did turn then and begin walking away. Over his shoulder, he said, “Tomorrow morning when you send the boys out again, tell them not to come back without the woman.”

Chapter Twenty-four

The few hours Tess decided to rest turned into many hours. In her exhausted state, she slept not only through the rest of the afternoon once Snake Eyes’ riders had left, but also through the night. Shafts of sunlight and the trilling of birds woke her.

For a long few seconds she didn’t know where she was. She struggled with the remains of the deep sleep for several minutes before she came fully awake.

Then it hit her. It’s full daylight! Did I only sleep a few minutes, or all night?

Raising up on one elbow, she saw the sun shining from the east, and that told her what she wanted to know. The entire night was gone. She lost one whole night of walking!

Carefully, she surveyed the area around the seep, listening also. All she heard was the sound of the trees whispering to each other in the breeze. That, and the singing of the birds.

The birds told her there was no one else around.

“Only one thing to do,” she muttered to herself. “Get up and get going. I’ve got to make up the time I lost by sleeping all night.”

Easing out of her hiding place, Tess brushed off her dress and finger combed her tangled hair. It was all she could do. The seep had filled up during the night, so she lay down beside it and drank as much as she could. She also ate one more piece of the jerky. There were two left.

The day would be a hot one. Already she felt warm from sitting in the sun. A glance to the west showed clouds beginning to fill the sky. No thunderheads yet, but they would grow. It felt like that kind of day.

She drank all she could once again and used some of the remaining water to wash her face and arms. That made her feel a little better. A deep breath that turned into a sigh, and she

set off again, her face pointed north.

One fortunate thing was in her favor. The area she trudged through that day was crossed by a number of small ravines and arroyos. Those that pointed north provided cover for her as she walked. Many of them were shallow, just deep enough for only her head and shoulders to show above the rim. And the grass that grew on the prairie grew high enough that most of the time she couldn’t be seen from any distance.

Those times she had to climb out of the ravines, she took a good, long look around first. She knew movement of any kind would be seen quickly out in the open, so when she had to go from one ravine to another, she stayed low and moved slow.

Thunderheads began growing in the west about mid-morning. Heat from the sun caused them to spring up like mushrooms in a wet forest. The tops of the nearest ones began flattening out quickly.

Thunder rolled its way across the flat prairie as she came to the end of the ravine she walked through. After her usual careful examination of the area, Tess took a long look at the cloud building in the west.

“That one’s going to catch me out in the open unless I can find someplace to shelter.” As she said these words, a forked flash of lightning streaked down from the cloud to the earth. The crash of thunder that followed was only a few seconds later. “Getting close, too. I’d better see what’s around before it gets here.”

A mound of earth nearby provided her a slightly higher vantage point to scout the area. About a hundred yards to the north, another ravine looked to be bigger than the ones she’d

been walking in. Maybe there’s a cave or something in the side of that one that would give me some cover and shelter from the rain .

More thunder, sounding closer, pushed her to take a look. If nothing else, the ravine would give her a lower place to get away from the lightning coming with the storm. Hoping that anyone out looking would also be looking for shelter, she hurried to the rim of the ravine.

Twice as deep, or more, as the other ravines and arroyos, this one ran north for as far as she could see. Once the storm passed, she would be able to walk along at a good pace. Or at least as good a pace as she could make.

Possibly there would be pools of water in the ravine from the storm. These would provide her with drinking water along the way.

Tess climbed down the sandy slope at the end of the ravine and walked along the bottom among the rocks, searching the upper rim on both sides for an overhang to get under and stay dry.

In a quarter mile, her searching was rewarded. On the western rim, an overhang that looked deep enough to provide shelter. The ravine had grown steadily deeper, so that overhang was about thirty feet from the bottom of the ravine and about six feet down from the rim.

“Perfect.”

She climbed up the side of the ravine using rocks to pull herself up and pushing with her legs. Scattered drops presaged the coming of the storm. Large drops hit her shoulders, splattered into her eyes as they bounced off the side of the ravine.

In a few minutes, she made the edge of the overhang. Pulling herself up, she scanned the interior. It looked clean. Clean and empty. But it would keep her dry.

Tess scrambled the rest of the way up and rolled into the shelter just before the clouds opened up and drenched the prairie. The rain fell so hard she couldn’t see the other wall of the ravine.

She scooted to the rear of the overhang. It was deep enough to keep her dry, just barely. If she stretched out her legs from where she sat with her back against the rock at the rear of the overhang, her feet would get wet.

Tess stayed where she sat, keeping her legs curled under her and watched the rain. Throughout the afternoon the rain continued. From time to time, she held her cupped hands out for the rain to fill. She didn’t dare eat any more of the jerky; there were only two pieces left to last her until she could find something else to eat.

The rain kept on. Before long, she heard the sound of rushing water. Cocking her head to listen better, she thought what she heard was the rain increasing. It wasn’t.

She scooted closer to the edge, looked over and down while she held one hand over her eyes to keep the rain out. In the bottom of the ravine, water churned. “Oh, no!” she said aloud. “Flash flood.”

As she watched, the water rose a foot.

She’d heard stories of flash floods filling arroyos deeper than this one in only a short time. Tess turned her head to see the side of the ravine looking for a way to climb out.

Solid, rain-slicked rock. No hand holds, nowhere to put her feet.

Tess pulled back under the overhang. Well, I’m stuck. At least until this water goes down . She glanced out at the drenching rain. If it stops. Hope I don’t see an ark float by .

Lightning, thunder, and rain continued all that afternoon. Tess dozed in between thunder grumbles. There wasn’t much else for her to do.

During the times she wasn’t napping, she kept an eye on the level of the water rushing through the ravine below her. In the middle of the afternoon, she estimated the top of the water in the ravine to be about twelve feet below the lip of her perch.

Plenty of room , she considered. No need to worry .

But she did.

The rain continued falling as it had since it started. Like water poured out of a bucket. And that was only what she could see in front of her. What was it like further west? If this rain fell there like it did here, she could be in trouble. That rain would lead to runoff. That runoff would channel right into this ravine.

And fill it up more quickly.

Well, nothing I can do about that. I may as well settle back and wait .

Tess ate one more piece of the jerky, the first food she’d had since leaving the seep that morning. She now had one piece left.

For several seconds, she stared at that one piece of jerky. How many days would it have to last? How many miles to home? She didn’t know, not for sure. A rough estimate would be five days, a week maybe.

At least five days! With no more food than one piece of jerky! And no way to carry water. How could she possibly make it that far? She didn’t dare think too much about the distance and lack of food and water. That would demoralize her so much that she’d give up. She’d always had a strong will. Now she’d see just how strong.

She crossed her arms over her knees, lowered her head to rest on her arms, and let the tears come. Her shoulders shook with her sobs.

How long she sat there overwhelmed with the hopelessness of the trials that lay before her, she had no idea. When she lifted her head, she could tell it was later. Clouds still covered the sun, but the rain had stopped.

Tess wiped leftover tears from her eyes and swiped at her cheeks to clear them of dried tears. She pushed strands of hair back behind her ears. With dry hiccups, she caught her breath.

A few moments she sat there, staring out at the opposite side of the ravine, clear to her vision now that the rain no longer shielded it. As she looked, a single ray of sunshine broke through the clouds and lit up the area outside her shelter.

A roar and clamor reached her ears. At first, she thought thunder still rolled through the ravine in front of her. But this sound was continuous. It wasn’t the roar of falling rain; the rain had stopped.

She wiped her eyes once again and scooted to the edge of the overhang. When she looked over, the level of the water in the ravine had risen. Now it was only about eight feet below the bottom lip of the overhang.

As she watched, the brown water tumbled and rushed along below her, carrying with it branches and limbs. Where the water raced over itself, boiling and crashing, white water flew up almost to her overhang. The body of what looked like a cow rushed by, rolled over and over by the force of the torrent.

Tess watched for several minutes and saw the water level rise another foot in that time.

She lifted her gaze from the water below to the sides of the ravine on either side of her

overhang. Once again, she searched the sides for handholds she could use to climb up and out of the ravine. Still, nothing but smooth, wet rock.

She was stuck. All she could do was wait and see if the water would continue to rise and eventually flood her out.

Tess scooted back to the wall of her small chamber. Leaning back, she rested her head against the uneven rock and closed her eyes. There was little else she could do at the moment.

Would it have been better to stay with Snake Eyes and his raiders instead of sitting in that cold rock overhang, waiting to be swept away and drowned by the roaring flood scouring the ravine? At least she would be warm and dry with enough food and water.

Instead, here she sat, cold and wet. Wondering if she would get out of this ravine. And if she did, she only had one piece of jerky to last her however long it took to get back home. Plus, she had no way to carry water with her.

For long minutes she sat there, back against the rock, eyes closed.

Then, she realized, No. I could never stay with the raiders. I would have killed myself. Never would I have let myself get taken to Mexico . Another minute she sat, not thinking. Then, This way, I might even be able to save those other women . A briefer pause this time. That is, if I can get out of here and back to my ranch.

Chapter Twenty-five

That same day, two miles and a bit more from Tess, Rafe and Merita got caught in the same storm.

He had watched the storm building from the morning. Saw how the thunderheads built in the heat from the sun, their tops flattening out and the bottoms growing black and heavy with rain that would soon release upon the prairie.

But what bothered him more was the lightning that he saw from a distance, even as the clouds were building. If the storm rolled on toward them across the open prairie, it would gain strength and produce more lightning.

Rafe had seen what lightning could do on the prairie. In the flat land, nothing stood out except whatever, or whoever, happened to be higher than the bare ground. That would mean Merita and him.

Where they rode nothing stood more than three feet above the dirt. He began searching for someplace to ride out the storm.

“What are you looking for?” Merita asked when he’d searched the area for the third time.

“That cloud’s comin’ this way.” He pointed with his chin toward the towering column of black. “We need to find someplace to hole up ‘til it passes. That lightnin’ could be trouble.”

“It is dangerous?” She sounded like she actually didn’t realize what lightning could do.

“Let me explain it this way. You remember that bacon we fried for breakfast?” Merita

nodded, and Rafe went on. “That’s what you and your horse would look like if you get hit by lightning.”

She stared at him with wide eyes. After a minute, she said, “What do we need to do?”

As he peered around them, he responded, “We need to find someplace that’s higher than us. A nice tall hill would do. If it had an overhang to protect us from the rain, that would be almost too much to ask for.”

Rafe stood in his stirrups to give himself the ability to see a little farther. He focused his gaze on something to the east of them.

Settling back in his saddle, he turned to Merita. “There’s something over that way.” He pointed east. “I think it may be a hill we can get behind.”

“All right,” she said. “Let’s go see.”

It took them less than ten minutes to cover the mile to what turned out to be a fair-sized hill. Rafe led the way around the hill, his .45 loose in the holster, the thong off its hammer. He saw no tracks, no indication of anyone having been there. He relaxed a little.

The hill probably was a projection of harder rock left over from an earlier geological period. Through the following years with their storms, winds, snows, and sun it had been worn down to a smooth hill covered with dirt and sand, grass and bushes growing on most of it.

The other side of the hill from the storm looked like it had been sheared off sometime in the distant past. At the bottom of the hill on that side, boulders of various sizes littered the ground. One large shelf of rock lay at an angle against the cliff face. It looked like maybe one person could squeeze under it.

From the thunder, Rafe could tell the storm was moving closer. The roar of the falling

rain now sounded loud in his ears.

“We need to get among the boulders as close to the side of the hill as we can. That will give us a little bit of shelter.” He dismounted and led his horse into the boulders up close to the hill. Once he got as close as he could, he picked up a large rock and laid it across the trailing reins to keep the horse close.

Merita followed his example.

They stood as close as they could to the side of the hill. There was no real shelter there other than the hill itself. That would keep some of the wind-blown rain off of them, but they would still get wet.

But the lightning would not be a hazard.

He said as much to her. “So, if we stay up tight against this hill, we’ll only get wet.” He untied a slicker from behind his saddle and slipped his arms into it.

“Do we have to keep on standing?” she asked with a slight smile. She also put on a slicker.

His own tiny smile crept across his lips. “No, I don’t guess so.”

“Good.” She put her back against the rock and slid down to a sitting position.

Rafe took another long look around, hitched his slicker up on his shoulders, and sat down beside her.

As soon as he hit the ground, Merita scooted over closer to him. Rafe turned his head and stared at her. He didn’t know what else to do. Never did he ask for anyone to partner with him, and now here he sat with a beautiful young woman snuggled up against him.

He hadn’t ever been great hand with women. Truth be told, he felt really uncomfortable around women.

But here he sat.

And he had no idea what to do.

Merita settled that for him. She scooted even closer to his left side. Then she lifted his left arm and put it around her shoulders. A contented sigh came from her lips.

All he could do was sit there, his left arm around the young woman’s shoulders. At least it was his left arm. He still had his gun hand free.

For hours they sat there, the rain partially blocked by the hill that loomed above them. The worst of the wind and lightning either blew over them or stayed on the other side of the hill. Sitting there in the lee of the hill, they got wet, but it could be endured.

At last, the rain slacked off somewhat and the wind grew calmer. Rafe stretched his legs out slowly, easing the cramps of hours sitting with them drawn up under his slicker. He lifted his arm from Merita’s shoulders and stood. It felt good to ease his muscles.

Light showers of rain continued to fall, but they were of no consequence. Rafe stripped off the slicker and shook the rain from it with a few flips of his wrist. He strode over to where they left the horses to check on them.

They had been left among some head-high boulders that would shelter them from the wind somewhat. Merita joined him there. Together they wiped as much water from the horses and their saddles as they could with their hands. While they were doing this, the horses’ heads came up with their ears pricked forward.

Rafe had spent many years sitting astride one horse or another, so he knew this

indicated they heard or sensed something, or someone, close by. In this case, it was someone.

He put a hand on Merita’s arm and motioned for her to be still and silent. When his horse took a breath and appeared to be about to nicker, he put a hand on its nose to keep it quiet, also.

Several minutes passed. Rafe strained to hear any small noise that might show where whatever it was that got the horses’ attention. He heard nothing. Then, a glimpse of movement outside the rocks.

Indians! Six of them, warriors sitting straight-backed on their ponies.

Rafe tightened his grip on Merita’s arm and showed her the Indians. Her eyes wide, he motioned her down farther behind the boulders.

He watched the Indians for several minutes. They carefully scanned the area as if searching for something. He was careful not to let his gaze rest too long on any one of them. Men who live in wild country often develop a sense for when something is watching them. Those Indians certainly had that sense.

That entire time, Rafe wondered, Did we leave any tracks they could find? Or did th’ rain wash ‘em away? If they find us, we got a pretty good set-up here unless they get on th’ top of th’ hill behind us. If they do, we can get over right next to th’ hill an’ at least make it harder for them to hit us. He kept his .45 loose in the holster the whole time.

In another half hour one of the Indians, a man with raids and battles under his belt, grunted something softly in their language and nudged his pony on. The other braves followed him away from the hill. One of them, possibly the youngest, scanned the area once more before nudging his pony to catch up with the others.

Rafe stayed still. He wanted to be sure they were really gone before he moved or allowed himself to feel more relaxed.

“Who were they?” Merita whispered, catching some of Rafe’s caution.

“They looked like Cheyenne,” he whispered back. “But I don’t know why they’d be here, so far away from their normal territory. May have been raidin’ down in Mexico an’ now are makin’ their way back home. I didn’t see any scalps, but they looked to have a few extra horses.” He paused, thinking. Then, “They looked like they were searchin’ for somethin’. One of the extra horses had a bridle on him like the Cheyenne use. They might’ve lost one of their braves an’ are tryin’ to find ‘im. In any case, we’ll wait here an’ make sure they’re really gone before we go on.”

A half hour later, they mounted up and rode west to get back on the trail of the raiders they were following before the storm came up. We’ll have a cold camp tonight , he reasoned. Unless we can find someplace where we can hide a fire . Don’t want to give those Indians any reason to find us.

Chapter Twenty-six

Once the rain stopped, the water rushing through the ravine where Tess waited retreated quickly. By nightfall, she could tell it was about ten feet below the lip of the overhang where she sat.

Tomorrow morning, it should be low enough for me to climb down and get out of this ravine and on the way to the ranch. I’m not going to try climbing down in the dark. No need to risk a fall and a broken leg or worse. Anyway, a good night’s sleep will do me good. Just wish I had some water. With that, Tess curled up on the floor of the overhang and tried to sleep, shutting out the thirst that dried her mouth and throat.

The stopping of the rain brought both good news and bad. The good news was the torrent in the ravine would go away, and she could get back on her way. The bad news was she now had no water to catch to drink. And the water at the bottom of the ravine would be so filled with silt and debris as to be undrinkable.

Morning brought with it a clear sky, hot sun, and little breeze. And a savage thirst that made her tongue stick to the roof of her mouth. She couldn’t make enough saliva to spit on a match and put it out. She found a pebble, put it in her mouth. That started the saliva flowing for a few minutes and brought a tiny bit of relief.

Using that as motivation, Tess crawled out of the overhang and climbed down to the floor of the ravine. The water that roiled and boiled so much the day before was nothing more than a small stream, only inches deep. But filled with so much dirt and mud it could hardly flow.

She stared at the stream for a few seconds, then lifted her head and walked out of the

ravine. Coming to end of the little arroyo, she let her head show above the level of the ground only enough to scout around the prairie before climbing fully out. She saw nothing but prairie.

Pointing her nose north, she started off, staying to low ground again wherever possible. While staying low had its advantages, it also carried with it some drawbacks. As the sun climbed higher in the sky, its heat gained intensity in the ravines and arroyos she traveled through. Reflected off the walls of the arroyos, the sun’s heat seemed to drain her of every last bit of moisture in her body. There was no relief from the heat through the winds that blew constantly on the plains, either. What little breezes did come down the ravines were hot and tried to leach out any remaining water.

Even the pebbles in the mouth stopped working after a bit. But she still sweated, so that was good.

I’ve got to get up out of these holes so the wind will cool me a little. Maybe I could find a tree or a bush to get under in some shade. If I stay down here, I’ll die .

Once out of the arroyos, the wind did cool her by evaporating some of the sweat she still had. But she saw no trees or bushes tall enough to crawl under for a long way. Off in the distance the direction she was going, a series of small hills stood out on the flat prairie. They would at least offer some shade later in the day.

She started off toward the hills, walking slowly in the heat of the day and because she felt so drained. The longer she walked the less the wind cooled her. Instead, it seemed to do its best to bake her from the outside in. And it carried little bits of sand and dirt along with it. These caked on her skin, making her itch almost beyond her ability to handle.

Tess could feel the sun burning her face, her upper chest where her dress didn’t cover,

and the backs of her hands. At least her hair covered the back of her neck, giving it some protection.

The glare of the sun off the prairie grass, dirt, and sand made her squint so much, she developed a headache. Every time she gazed ahead at the hills, they seemed no closer. Distance was hard to judge out on the open prairie, so those hills could be fifty miles off for all she knew. And those dancing heat waves added to the difficulty in telling how far they were.

Tess stopped once, simply not having the energy to take another step. She didn’t dare sit down. There was every possibility she wouldn’t get back up. In a minute, she started off again, slower this time.

Fifteen minutes later, she fell the first time.

Back on her feet quickly, she kept going. Put one foot in front of the other. That’s all, just one foot in front of the other. This became her mantra.

Licking her lips, Tess discovered two things. One, she had no moisture in her mouth or on her tongue. Two, she tasted blood. Her lips cracked and bled.

Another fifteen minutes of walking, and she fell again. This time she fell near some rocks. Not high enough for her to get any shade from, but rocks. As she lay there on her stomach, she saw a lizard resting under the edge of one of those rocks. Its sides puffed in and out as it breathed. It seemed to be studying her with one black and unblinking eye.

For whatever reason, seeing that lizard pushed Tess to make it to her feet again. Pulling her arms under her body, she pushed with the little strength she had left. Once she had her upper body off the ground, she rested. From there, she pulled her legs under her and managed

to make it to her knees. After another rest, she pushed with arms and legs, finally standing erect again.

She swayed, but she was on her feet. She stumbled forward, got her balance, started walking again.

The hills might have seemed an inch closer the next time she glanced at them. But no more than that.

Don’t look at them , she told herself. You’ll just make yourself crazy if you do. They are however far they are. Nothing you can do about that. Just keep walking .

Through the heat and the glare she trudged. She only allowed herself to think that each step took that much closer to home. And that much farther away from Snake Eyes and his men.

If any of them or the Indians happened upon her now, she couldn’t resist them. They would have her. She wouldn’t even have the energy to kill herself like she told herself she would.

In what seemed like hours of trudging, she finally got to the little hills. There was little there. Rocks, a cactus, short bushes. But she did find some shade.

Tess sat in the narrow strip of shade on the east side of a boulder and thought. If I don’t find water soon, I’m finished. I won’t make another day without it. Once I’ve rested a little while, I’ll climb around these rocks to see if I can find a seep or some small basin in there that still holds some rain water.

After another minute, the heat and her exertions during the day took over, and Tess slept. When she awakened, the sun almost kissed the tops of the far mountains to the west.

She was shocked that she slept so long after laying up under that overhang for a full day and night with nothing to do but nap and sleep.

During her sleep, she had fallen over on her side onto the ground. Now, she sat up. Dizziness washed over her when she did so. She hung her head, but remained sitting up. After a minute or so, the dizziness eased, and she lifted her head.

She glanced at the lowering sun. I’d better get busy looking for water. It’s going to be dark soon, and I won’t be able to see anything. And I’ve got to have water .

Tess figured any water would be higher up on the hills among the rocks she could see there. But climbing those hills as exhausted as she felt wouldn’t be fun. She tried to swallow the saliva she might work up in her mouth, but there was none. Her tongue felt like a dead thing filling her mouth. It stuck to the roof of her mouth and wouldn’t come loose.

As she sat contemplating the effort that climb would take, something buzzed by her ear. Thinking it was a bullet, she quickly dropped behind the boulder she sat beside. But there had been no sound of a shot.

She glanced all around, then heard another buzz go by. This time, she saw what caused it.

A bee! Flying straight and fast away from her up the hill. Bees would fly straight to their hive – or to water.

Seeing the direction the bee flew, she pushed herself to her feet and took a few steps in that direction. Then she waited. In another few minutes, another bee.

This continued for several more minutes, but so far she’d found no water. And no more bees flew past her.

Dejected, Tess slumped to the ground again. As she sat there, head in her hands, close to sobbing but having no tears to expend, she heard a tiny sound.

Not a bee this time, but what sounded like a cricket. Listening closer, she heard it again. Over to her left a little way. She took two tentative steps in that direction, stopped, listened once more.

Nothing. Had she imagined it? Was the sound a figment of her starved imagination? A hallucination brought on by lack of water?

Once more she listened. There it was! Just over behind those rocks to her left.

She stepped quickly over to the rocks. A deep pool of clean water! Under a small overhang so it would always be out of the sun and thus wouldn’t evaporate. Clear and cold.

Tess lay on her belly across a rock and dipped her face into the water. She allowed herself only small sips of the precious liquid so she wouldn’t make herself sick.

A few minutes later, she sat up and leaned back against another rock. Then she spotted what had been making the sounds she mistook for a cricket. A tiny toad that never lived far from water sat there at the edge of the pool.

“Bless you, little toad,” she said aloud. “You saved my life.”

Chapter Twenty-seven

Tess decided to continue walking through the daylight instead of only at night. She figured she was far enough from Snake Eyes’ camp that his men wouldn’t be looking for her this far north. Going west at first probably had thrown them off her trail. That, and not leaving the area around his camp for the first several hours.

Besides, walking in the day time would allow her to see areas that might have water. And she could see anyone coming up on her in time to find a place to hide.

But she could do nothing about the rough ground she had to cover. And her boots weren’t made for it.

The first thing she noticed was a hole in the bottom of her left boot. She found it when she stepped on a rock that found the hole. The pain brought her to a stop.

“Oh, no!” She stared at the hole as she sat in the dirt with her boot off. Quickly, she jerked the other boot off and examined the sole. It, too, was showing a lot of wear. Not much longer and a hole would be worn through it in at least one place. How could she walk the rest of the miles to her ranch with holes in her boots?

These boots were the latest style in Amarillo . The thought gave her no pleasure. I should have been wearing my work boots.

For a long minute, she stared at the boots, her vision gradually drowned out by tears. Then she hung her head and watched the precious fluid drain from her eyes.

Soon, she stopped the tears. I can’t afford to lose the water , she realized. I’ll need all I have and all I can get if I’m going to get home .

With a swipe at her face, Tess grabbed the hem of her dress and ripped off strips. She replaced her boots, then tied the strips around her boots where the holes were. This would only be temporary, she knew. But it would allow her to keep walking a little farther.

The cloth strips threw off her balance, but the boots could still protect her feet.

She started off again, more slowly this time. Trying to pick her way to avoid rocks and the occasional cactus took a lot more time than just walking. But she knew this was what she needed to do if she had any hope of getting back to the ranch.

Going so slowly also gave the sun and wind more time to work on her. At the end of an hour, she felt like she’d been walking all morning. When she stopped to rest, she looked at her boots. The strips of cloth were wearing horribly.

And she noticed several places where the soles separated from the uppers. At this rate, these things won’t last another mile. When they give out, I don’t know what I’ll do.

She was right about the boots not lasting a mile. The rough ground combined with them being soaked by the rain resulted in them literally falling apart and off her feet. While she rested, she tore more strips from the bottom of her dress. Enough this time to completely cover her boots. She would keep them on as long as possible.

As long as possible turned out to be two more hours. She came to a long stretch of rocky dirt. Many of the rocks had rough and sharp edges. By the time she got out of the rocks, the cloth strips, and the soles of her fancy boots, were memories.

Sitting down on the ground again, she pulled off what was left of her boots. For several long minutes, she sat there staring at those boots.

What do I do now? I can’t walk barefoot very far. The rocks and cactus will cut my feet up.

Despair lowered itself on her shoulders, weighing her down like a coat of iron. She could barely lift her head to gaze across the prairie, hoping to see – something. A few minutes later, she did.

In the distance ahead of her in the direction she was going, buzzards circled around something she couldn’t see. They looked to be about a mile off.

Don’t know what that is, but something’s there. And it’s in the direction I want to go. Might as well go see what it is. In my situation, it could be something I can use .

Working quickly, her curiosity aroused by the possibility of finding something that would help her, Tess took up what cloth she could salvage from wrapping the boots. She then wrapped it around her bare feet and started toward the buzzards still circling in the distance.

She struggled the distance in a half hour. That entire time, she kept the buzzards in sight. More of them circled now. Fortunately, no one else was around. They would have easily caught her. Her entire focus was on those buzzards.

As she got closer, she saw something large lying on the ground. In another few moments, she saw it was a cow. The closer she got, two things made an impression on her.

One, the smell nearly gagged her. Before getting close, the steady south wind had pushed the stench away from her. Up close, not even the wind could get rid of all the stink.

Two, she heard a steady, low buzzing. Flies worked around the cow’s eyes, ears, mouth and any other body opening. Ants were interspersed with them.

Tess covered her mouth and nose with one arm while she made a circuit around the cow’s body. No wounds were visible anywhere. Could this be the cow she saw carried by on the rushing water outside her overhang shelter?

She gazed all around the area. How could this cow have gotten here?

Shaking her head, she cleared it of those thoughts. It didn’t matter how it got there. What did matter was how it could help her.

She sat down nearby and started pondering how this dead cow could help her. No doubt the meat was spoiled by this time. There was no way to cook it, anyway.

Idly toying with the Indian boy’s knife, an idea came to her. What about cutting strips of the hide to make some kind of covering for her feet? She’d heard of plains Indians doing that with buffalo hide to make moccasins. Of course, that was after they’d tanned the hide.

I don’t have time to tan any hide, but why wouldn’t just the hide itself do? I wouldn’t have to make anything fancy, just something to cover my feet .

She tore another strip from her dress and tied it around her mouth and nose. It took her over an hour and a great deal of sweat to saw off two strips of the cow’s hide. Her idea was to put her foot on one end of the strip, then fold the other end back over her foot, and tie it on with more strips from her dress.

When she laid the strips out, the underside of the hide was glossy and slick with fat. She didn’t know if she could put her feet on that or not. Working with the knife, she scraped the fat and whatever else was there off. At least most of it.

Tess gritted her teeth and stepped onto the freshly scraped hide. It was still slimy.

I’ve got to do this , she reminded herself. I can’t walk barefoot all the way back to the

ranch. This will be better than nothing. I can do it; I know I can. Forget what it feels like and do it.

Quickly then, she folded the hide back over her foot and began tying the strips from her dress around it. The other foot followed.

Not the most fashionable thing in the world. But my feet are covered. If I’m careful, they should last. I might have to cut up the rest of my dress, but I’ll do it and walk into the ranch naked if I have to.

Chapter Twenty-eight

The same day Tess found the dead cow, Rafe and Merita rode through some hilly, broken country. They had lost the trail of the wagons in a rocky area and were walking their horses, checking the ground for tracks.

“Did you lose the trail?” Merita’s question carried more than a little sarcasm and challenge. She gazed at him from the edges of her eyes.

He didn’t answer for several seconds as he continued searching the ground. With a great sigh, he said, “‘Pears I did.” He lifted his head and turned to stare behind them. “I think we didn’t come far enough west to pick up the trail after that last storm. I think we should head that way.” He turned and pointed with a nod to the west.

For a few more seconds he stood looking in that direction, flipping the reins in his hand. His horse grazed on the sparse grass along the way they were headed. In another moment, his head jerked up, and he stared toward a spot ahead of them. He took a deep breath, and Rafe put a hand on the horse’s nose to keep him from nickering.

“What is it?” Merita asked, looking in the same direction.

“I think he caught a scent of something,” Rafe replied. “Something up ahead of us. Don’t know what it might be. I thought I caught sight of some movement ahead a while back. Thought it was prob’ly a coyote or somethin’. Might not have been.” He paused long enough to take in the cluster of huge boulders that had trees among them. A perfect place for an ambush. “Let’s ease over among these trees and take a breather.”

They hadn’t been in the trees for a minute, when Rafe caught sight of a small flock of

birds flying around. He watched as they flew into one of the smaller trees up ahead, then immediately flew back out.

“Did you see that?” he asked Merita without turning from the area where he saw the birds.

“See what?”

“Birds. They flew into that smaller tree, then flew right back out. I think there may be somebody hiding under there.” He turned to her then. “I’m gonna slip around this way,” he pointed behind her. “You can stay here.”

Before he could even finish that sentence, she replied, “No. I’m going, too.”

Her face told him he’d have to tie her up to keep her from going. “All right. But we have to go slow and quiet. No noise. All we’re gonna do first is see if there’s really somebody there, or if I just imagined what I saw.”

She glanced toward the rocks ahead, then came back to him. “All right. I’ll follow you.”

A nod, and he started off. They walked through the trees first to keep out of sight of anyone who might be waiting ahead. As they slipped through the trees, avoiding branches on the ground that might crack if stepped on, Rafe considered their situation.

Did I really see somethin’ up there? If I did, was it just a coyote? Who would be tryin’ to ambush us? Indians, maybe. That bunch we saw before didn’t look like a war party, but even if they were a huntin’ party or comin’ back from a raid down in Mexico, they might not want to pass up a couple of white scalps. We need to make sure we see them first.

The entire area they walked through looked like the remains of a series of larger hills that had been worn down over the centuries. Weather and wind carved slices out of the hills, sending pieces of them sliding down from the tops. This left large boulders higher than Rafe’s head in several places. The shortest way past the hills was directly between four of them where these large boulders nested. Over time, birds and wind carried seeds of trees that sprouted and took hold among the boulders.

Altogether a perfect place to lie in wait for someone.

Going around behind two of the hills required slow going even if they weren’t trying to sneak up on whoever was waiting on them. Rocks the size of his head all the way up to those that came up to his waist dotted the bottom of the hill. Winding around them without making noise took time.

The heat magnified in the rocks as well. Not only did the sun bake them from above, it also reflected off the rocks, roasting them as they walked by. Rafe felt like a well-done steak by the time they got through the rocks. He pointed them toward a small strip of shade.

He motioned her close, put his lips next to her ear. “We’ll rest here a minute. If there’s anybody there, they’ll be right among those trees we can see between the hills there.”

She nodded, turned her head toward him at the same time. This put their eyes about six inches apart. For the space of two minutes, Rafe didn’t know what to do. Her soft brown eyes reached out and swirled all around his, holding them in that warm embrace. A tentative smile grew on her lips. Rafe felt his heart beat speed up and fresh beads of sweat form at his temples.

For years, a fist-sized rock teetered on the edge of a small ledge halfway up the back of that hill. Held in place by a few grains of sand, a particularly strong gust of wind blew through the hills, dislodging those last grains and sending the rock tumbling down the hillside.

The racket that rock made got Rafe’s attention – fast. His left hand reached around

Merita’s waist while his right hand grabbed his .45 from its holster. He pulled her to the ground behind one of the smaller boulders as he scanned the hillside for the source of the noise.

He wound up leaning over her protectively, down on one knee and holding his pistol ready to fire. No target presented itself.

Once Rafe determined there was no danger, he started to stand up and help Merita to her feet. But she tugged at his arm that still held her and shook her head.

When he frowned, she pointed to the other side of the boulder. Easing one eye past the edge of the boulder, he saw a man creeping down the crease between the two hills. His eyes were on the hillside where the rock rolled down. He carried a Winchester and looked like he knew how to use it.

Rafe slowly got into position to act if the man came around the boulder. In another minute, he heard the soft crunch of the man’s boots on the sand and dry grass just on the other side of the boulder. He set himself and waited.

Another minute passed with no sight of the man. Did he turn around and go back to where he had been hiding? Or did he somehow sense their presence and now was sneaking around the other side of the boulder to get behind them? If he did that, Rafe knew he could expect nothing but a bullet in the back. Nothing to do but trust Merita to watch behind them.

Another long minute crept by. Then, Rafe saw the man’s shadow just slipping past the edge of the boulder. He came fully into view a moment later, his eyes still focused on the hillside, his rifle loosely pointed that way.

Rafe came up off the ground and planted the barrel of his .45 hard against the man’s skull behind his ear. Immediately, the man dropped without a sound, just what Rafe wanted.

He pulled the man behind the boulder with them, took his rifle and pistol, then roughly tied his hands behind him with his own belt. The man never moved. Rafe wondered if the blow killed the man, but then saw his chest move with a breath.

Merita came up beside him and said in a very low voice, “I could see him around the other edge of the boulder when he came out of that little bunch of trees.”

Rafe nodded. “At least now we know there are people there waiting on us,” he said in that same very low voice. “Let’s go see how many there are an’ what they want. Maybe we can find their horses and set ‘em afoot.”

Not waiting to see whether she followed, knowing she did, he stepped out around the boulder. He kept his eyes moving constantly, trying to watch all around the area in front of them, not knowing where another man might be hiding.

Slowly, they made their way through the trees, careful not to step on any branches. At the edge of the trees, a flat area in front of a line of boulders that looked like they had rolled down the hillside years in the past. Tied to the trees were four horses. One of the horses surely belonged to the man he’d knocked out. That meant there were three men scattered somewhere in the rocks ahead.

Scanning the rocks, Rafe saw no one. He looked over at Merita, who shook her head that she didn’t see anyone either.

He eased out of the trees and crept toward the horses, keeping his eyes out for anyone showing up. He’d untied all but the last horse when a man stood from the rocks about ten yards away.

“Hey!” the man shouted. He lifted a rifle to his shoulder as he spoke.

Rafe shot him.

Two more men popped up among the rocks and began shooting at him. Caught out in the open, Rafe could only begin shooting back as fast as he could. Fortunately, the two men couldn’t shoot well. The bullets whipped by over his head or buried themselves in the sand around him. His own shots did no damage except possibly come close enough to the men to throw off their aim.

He leaped back behind the last horse that was bucking and tugging at the tied reins. He made it back to the trees where Merita shot several times, giving him cover. Once in the trees, he ejected the spent shells in his pistol and reloaded.

“Two of them left,” he said, eyeing the rocks where the men hid. “I’m gonna work my way around to the right, try to get an angle on the one over there. Can you go left?”

“Sure.” Her answer was immediate. When Merita turned to glance at him, her eyes sparkled. Whether it was the excitement of the moment or something left over from the incident before the shooting, he didn’t know.

Putting that out of his mind, Rafe slipped from tree to tree, pausing often to throw a shot at the man he stalked. He needed to keep the man’s head down so he wouldn’t catch on he was being stalked.

The going got rough, then rougher. At the end of the trees, he had to dash across a small open space with absolutely no cover. Before making that dash, he watched exactly where the man hid. He emptied his pistol at the area, hoping maybe for a ricochet that would cut the man up. Immediately after shooting, he ran across the opening, hitting the ground behind a rock where he reloaded quickly.

Peering around the rock he lay behind, Rafe saw the man pop up and fire twice with his pistol. He watched the man shoot toward the trees. With relief, Rafe knew the man hadn’t figured out where he was.

He crawled out from behind the rock and got behind another. Sounds of firing came from his left. Merita must be getting close to her target , he thought. For just a moment, he felt the quickening of his heart rate just like he had during those few moments so close to her.

Again, he pushed that feeling away and focused on his mission. Rising to his knees, he watched the area where his man hid. He got to his feet, but stayed as low as he could and started easing toward the man’s hiding place. A rock about twenty feet from the last place Rafe saw the man became his target.

Without making any noise, he made it to the rock. A deep breath, and he stood with his pistol resting on top of the rock. When the man raised up to shoot, Rafe drilled him. The man fell back behind the boulder he’d hidden behind, his rifle falling to the ground beside it.

Two more shots came from the area where Merita’s man was hidden. Rafe waited for another couple of minutes to see if the man he shot was really down.

When he figured the man wouldn’t be getting up, he cautiously made his way to the spot where the man’s rifle lay. Kicking it aside, he stepped quickly around the edge of the boulder, his .45 ready for a snap shot.

It wasn’t needed. The man he shot lay on the ground, eyes wide to the sun and dust. A large hole showed just above his ear where Rafe’s round caught him. Blood soaked into the ground beneath his head.

Holstering his .45, Rafe glanced over where he thought Merita had gone, saw her head

just above a large rock. She appeared to be staring at something on the ground, her face expressionless.

Rafe walked over to the rock, getting there just in time to see her shoot the man who lay on the ground. When she did so, something like relief seemed to pass across her face.

“Merita?” he said softly.

She turned her head to face him without taking her pistol from pointing at the man on the ground. “He wouldn’t have lived anyway,” she said in explanation. “Too badly wounded. I put him out of his misery.”

Rafe just nodded. He saw the man had a hole in his stomach just above the belly button. He would’ve died, but it wouldn’t have been pleasant. He also saw the last round hit him right between the eyes.

Rafe certainly couldn’t blame her for killing the man. After all, he represented those who kidnapped and did, or were doing, who knew what to her best friend. He might not have done just the same, but at least something similar. But he had years of dealing with men like these behind him, while he doubted she’d ever confronted anyone like them before.

Just then, they heard the thudding of horse’s hooves going away from them. Rafe ran back to the place they’d left the first man, found him gone. Merita was right behind him.

“He got loose?” There seemed to be more to the question than just its words. She seemed to imply something about how he tied the man.

“Looks that way. Got loose and grabbed one of their horses. Wonder where he’s goin’?”

“These men had to be some of that raider’s men. Who else would be out here and try to ambush us?”

“Yeah. You’re right. That one is prob’ly high-tailin’ it to his boss to tell ‘im where we are.” He turned to face her. “We’ve got to be lots more watchful now.” Rafe was quiet for a minute. “Let’s go check these hombres’ pockets, see if we can find out anything about ‘em.”

Chapter Twenty-nine

The raider that got away from the ambush against Rafe and Merita drove his horse hard getting back to Snake Eyes. He knew pushing the horse as he did in the heat would probably kill it, or at least ruin it for riding, but he had to let his boss know about the man and woman. The news was important enough to ruin his favorite horse getting back.

But he didn’t make it all the way. In his haste, the raider failed to see the tell-tale mounds of dirt dotting the area he galloped the horse through. A colony of prairie dogs had lived there for hundreds of years and dug hundreds of holes.

The horse found one. Its foreleg broke through the thin crust over the hole and snapped just above the fetlock. Horse and rider plunged headfirst to the ground, the raider barely avoiding being crushed by the full weight of the horse falling on him.

Dust rose in a small cloud around them. The raider rose on hands and knees, shaking his head to clear it. That he had no broken bones himself was a minor miracle. He sank back to a sitting position in the dirt as he took in what happened.

His horse lay on its side, wheezing and blowing in pain. Blood flowed from its nostrils, indicating more injuries than the broken leg.

The raider rose on shaking legs to stand, unsteady, and then make his way over to the horse. He saw clearly the horse would not survive.

“Sorry, horse,” he said as he pulled his pistol from its holster. “I didn’t want this to happen.” He put the horse out of its misery with a single shot to the head. Then he stripped the saddle and bridle from the horse and carried it a little way until he came across a place where an ancient river had carved a shallow bed through the soil. A rocky wall along the edge of a rise was all that was left. After making sure he could find the shallow bed again, the raider dropped his saddle under a small overhang, took his canteen and a couple of pieces of jerky from the saddlebags, then started off on foot.

Unlike most men who rode for a living, whether on the right or wrong side of the law, the raider didn’t mind walking. The other men with him in Snake Eyes’ camp often made fun of the low heel boots he wore instead of the traditional high heel boots. That day, he was glad of the ones he wore.

The raider figured he had about five miles of rough country to cover to get back to camp. His chances of coming across other riders who would help him were small. He kept a close watch behind him for any sign those two they tried to ambush were coming up on him.

It was full dark before he saw the glow of fires ahead that told him he’d made it to the camp. Both his water and the jerky were gone two hours before. Travel over that rough ground was much more difficult on foot than it had been on horseback.

The raider’s legs felt like lead and his feet swelled in his boots when he stumbled into the light around the cook’s fire. Once there, he fell flat on his face on the ground.

“Sam!” the cook cried out. “What happened to you?”

“Water,” he croaked.

The cook rushed to bring him water. The raider drank slowly, the way men starving for water will, enjoying every drop of the liquid.

“Where’s Snake Eyes?” Sam asked when he had drunk his fill.

“He’s here. I’ll go get him.” The cook stood and hurried off to get Snake Eyes.

Three minutes later, the cook returned with Snake Eyes and Whitehorse. Snake Eyes looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. Darkness painted under his eyes. The eyes themselves were veined with red. The head raider stared at Sam for a minute, then said, “What happened?”

“Me’n Slim, Potter, and Jenkins went north like you said. Slim saw somethin’ movin’ ahead of us, so we got into these hills an’ waited.” He took another drink. “Jenkins said we’d ambush ‘em. They was a man an’ a woman, walkin’ along like they was lookin’ for somethin’.”

“A woman, you said?” Snake Eyes interrupted him.

“Yeah. She an’ the man with her both had guns an’ good horses.” Sam took another drink. “Like I said, Jenkins wanted to ambush ‘em. But somehow they got behind us. I went to check on th’ horses an’ got hit over th’ head. When I come to, I heard shots. Th’ belt around my hands was loose, so I got out of it an’ grabbed my horse. He stepped in a prairie dog hole, an’ I shot ‘im. Then I walked here.”

Snake Eyes stared at him another few seconds, then turned and walked away a few steps. He stood there, thinking. He stepped back to the little group in another minute.

“I don’t know who that man is, but I’ll bet he’s after me. After us. But that don’t matter. I want that woman. We’ll kill him an’ catch that woman. I want her.” To Whitehorse, he said, “Tomorrow, get all the men together. We’ll send ‘em all after that man an’ especially that woman!”

Chapter Thirty

Spring in West Texas always brought surprises, sort of like a lottery. Beautiful and clear one day, cold and cloudy the next. Warm enough to sweat on Monday, by Friday, coat weather again. At times, the flowers that bloomed so readily in the spring might have snow around them for a day.

Yes, West Texas weather in the spring was fickle. As Tess knew and experienced once again.

She walked from early that morning, making good time on relatively level ground. The makeshift shoes she fashioned from the hide of the drowned cow she found worked well. Relatively soft ground with fewer than usual rocks made her going easy. She found a spring along the way and drank all she could hold.

Once, she saw cattle in the far distance. No riders she could see, however.

In the middle of the afternoon, walking through a stretch of broken country, she felt the wind on her face.

Did I get turned around? She stopped and looked around her. No, I know I didn’t. But the wind was from the south, blowing from behind me . A glance to her left showed the sun halfway down the sky. I’m still headed north, so what’s going on?

Another brief gust hit her in the face. Noticeably colder.

She scrambled up the side of a low hill in front of her. At the top, she turned her face to the north. There, low on the horizon, a long cloud bank stretched from one side of the sky to the other. Blue-black in color, the cloud bank grew as she watched, eating up more of the sky.

Blue Norther!

Tess knew what a blue norther could, and would, bring with it. A sudden, dramatic drop in temperature, rain, freezing rain, sleet, and/or snow. Sometimes all of the above.

She didn’t want to, couldn’t, get caught out in that. Weak as she was from lack of food and rough travel, she would die.

Shelter , she realized. I’ve got to find shelter!

Turning her gaze from the specter of the blue norther, she focused on the land around her. About a half mile in front of her, a large arroyo sliced through the earth going east to west.

If I can get to that arroyo, maybe I can find a cut in the northern bank. That would shelter me from the wind and at least most of the wet.

Another glance at the cloud bank showed her it now covered almost a quarter of the sky to the north.

It’s moving in fast, so maybe it won’t last long . She looked again at the land between her hill and the arroyo, picking out what looked like the easiest route. But I’d better get going. Don’t want to be caught out in the open.

Tess hurried down the hill. Walking as fast as she could without ruining those hastily-made sandals got her to the arroyo just as the much-colder wind set her teeth chattering.

Just climbing down into that arroyo and getting out of the worst of the wind helped. She knew, though, getting wet with freezing rain would kill her.

I didn’t escape those raiders who kidnapped me, get away from that Indian, and walk all this far to die in a blue norther this close to home .

At the bottom of the arroyo, she searched the north side for a suitable overhang or undercut of some kind. She saw nothing.

Which way to go to try to find a place? She’d only have time to cover one direction before the storm caught her. Already, the clouds ate up half the sky over her.

For no particular reason, she turned right.

She trudged a hundred yards, not finding what she needed. As she walked, it looked like the arroyo made a shallow turn to the left. If that turn continued, the wind would blow right down the arroyo.

For a moment, she stopped, looked back the way she came, looked up at the clouds that now covered the entire sky she could see. No time to go back. She had no choice but to go on.

The turn to the left turned out to be shallow. No more than fifty feet later, the arroyo went back to the right, lining up across the north wind. That wind blew colder as she headed into it for the short space it hit her face. By the time she got to the next turn, her teeth chattered uncontrollably.

Just past the point where the arroyo turned across the wind, she found exactly what she needed. An overhang, really a small cave, hollowed out by years of spring and fall rain rushing down the arroyo provided the perfect place for her to shelter from the freezing rain and sleet sure to come with the norther.

Sand covered the floor of the arroyo here, deposited by those years of rains. No tracks showed in the area in front of the shallow cave.

“I hope that means I’m the first here,” Tess muttered. Her voice sounded like barbed wire scraped across a rusty gate to her ears. “Just shows how dehydrated I am.” She stooped to glance into the low, shallow cave. “Don’t see anything; guess I’ll go on in.”

Still, she hesitated, thinking a snake might not leave tracks of any kind. Then, borne on a gust of that frigid north wind, a patter of sleet pelted down around her and even bounced off her head.

That made up her mind.

She got down on all fours, hiking up the remnants of her dress to free her legs. Nobody’s around to see ‘em anyway , she told herself. Quickly, she crawled into the shelter.

Once inside, she scooted to the back wall, about eight feet from the entrance. The cave opened up slightly, and she could sit up there. It made a tiny room about six feet across. She scrunched up in a far corner. Already it felt warmer. But Tess knew the real cold would come later, and she had no way to cover herself to keep warm.

She sat there, hugging her knees to her chest and watching the sleet and freezing rain fall just outside the entrance to her cave. In her exhaustion, she simply could not think.

A few minutes passed with Tess just staring and shivering. Then a small movement caught her eye. Just a flash of something darting across the floor of the arroyo.

She stared in that direction, saw the movement again. Almost a shadow on the sand.

It darted toward the cave where she sat!

A coyote!

It stopped just outside the opening of the cave. Stopped and sniffed the air, then the tracks she left. Those tracks now filled with sleet. She, for Tess could clearly see the coyote was female and likely had just recently delivered a litter of pups, seemed confused by the tiny bit of scent she could pick up under the sleet. The coyote shook herself, sniffed Tess’s tracks again, then slipped into the cave.

As soon as the mama coyote got inside the cave, she stopped and stared at Tess. Clearly she caught the human scent inside the cave. The coyote froze and tasted the air.

“It’s all right, Little Mama,” Tess crooned to the concerned animal. “Come on in out of the weather.”

The coyote gave a low throaty growl, cut off quickly. From Tess, she glanced out at the sleet which fell harder now. She took a small, tentative step back toward the arroyo, but took another long look at the sleet.

With a glance at Tess again, she stepped two more feet into the cave and as far over to the side opposite Tess as possible. The coyote dug a shallow hole, stepped into it, turned around three times, and lay down. She curled herself into a tight curl and stared at Tess.

“Good idea, Little Mama,” she said softly. “Glad you stopped by.”

Tess began scooping out a hollow for herself. The coyote lifted her head to see what this crazy human did, but settled back down after a minute. She did keep her eyes on Tess, however.

It took Tess about ten minutes to scoop out a place for her to lie in. She lay on her side, her back against the back of the cave, and pulled the sand up close to her.

Still the cold seeped into the shallow cave as the sleet continued to fall outside. “Little Mama, you’re lucky,” she muttered to the coyote. “A fur coat would feel really good right now.”

The coyote offered no comment other than a contented sigh.

Tess pulled the sand over her legs and up to her waist, piling it up as deep as possible. Then she pulled sand up around her body, also, to hold in as much body heat as possible.

The combination of shared body heat, her own conserved heat, the exhaustion caused

by lack of food and water, and the stress of her circumstances brought sleep quickly.

Outside the cave, where both Tess and the coyote slept, sleet and freezing rain continued. It fell the entire afternoon and into the early evening. The frozen stuff accumulated to a depth of three inches. Tess awoke once well after dark. The sleet stopped, and it looked like the clouds were gone. Outside, the ice seemed almost to shine in the night.

She closed her eyes again and slept.

Cold increased as she and the coyote slept.

When next she awoke, clouds returned outside and the cold felt intense. As she stirred, the coyote also woke up. After a long stare at Tess, the coyote turned her face to the opening of the cave. Her nose worked for a minute, then she shook her head as she would to fling water from it. After a good scratch from her hind leg under her chin, she curled up again with a sigh, and went back to sleep.

While Tess watched the coyote, she became more aware of the great cold. Shivers shook her body and brought chatters to her teeth temporarily.

“Good idea again, Little Mama,” Tess muttered. She pulled more sand up close to her sides, crossed her arms over her chest, and slept.

The two of them slept the day away, getting up only once to crawl outside to empty their bladders. Both of them found the going very difficult outside. Once, when she slid coming out of the cave, Tess looked up to see the coyote staring at her, mouth open in a coyote-grin.

“It did look funny, I’ll bet,” she muttered.

The coyote sat there, unmoving in the cold, until Tess finished and returned to her place

in the cave. Then, the coyote returned to her depression, dug it out some more, circled three

more times, and lay back down.

Tess covered herself up again, whispered, “Good night, Little Mama.”

Both of them slept.

Tess’s body jerked, her eyes moved rapidly back and forth. She dreamed.

At first, she saw a field of beautiful flowers of many colors. Flowers such as never seen in her part of Texas. Through the flowers rolled a huge wagon drawn by multiple horses. As it advanced, it crushed the flowers in its wake. Sitting on the seat of the wagon was Snake Eyes, laughing at her attempts to get him to stop. Then, following the wagon, she saw someone on a large buckskin horse. Not knowing who this was, she nevertheless felt he was coming to stop the wagon.

That ended the dream, and she slept quietly again.

The next time Tess awoke, the sun shone outside and it felt warmer. A glance told her the coyote was gone. She dug herself out of the sand and crawled out of the cave. The air, while noticeably warmer, still raised goose bumps on her skin. The sleet had already melted.

A couple more hours , she told herself. And I’ll start on .

Chapter Thirty-one

That same afternoon the blue norther rushed through, Rafe and Merita rode warily. Since the attempted ambush, when one of the attackers got away, they figured Snake Eyes would send more men after them. They figured the men who attacked them had to be his; no one else was in the area as far as they knew. Only the Indians they’d seen briefly.

Rafe studied the ground as they rode, trying to pick up the trail of the wagons again. He thought they had gotten away from where they last saw the tracks.

“Let’s pull up ahead an’ rest th’ horses,” he said over his shoulder.

They stopped in the shade of a small grove of willows growing beside a seep. Both dismounted and let their horses drink. The seep was a strong one. It only took minutes to refill once the horses finished.

Rafe first noticed the weather change when he saw Merita shiver. He turned his face to the wind, saw it now blew from the north. When he walked out from the trees a little way, he saw the blue line of clouds to the north. As he watched for half a minute, the clouds covered more of the sky. He turned and strode quickly back to where Merita held the horses. They seemed to sense some change coming also. Both of them held their heads high and tasted the wind.

“What is it?” Merita asked as Rafe hurried back to her.

“Blue norther blowin’ in,” he said, grabbing the reins to his buckskin.

“What’s blowing in?” The young woman glanced back the way he’d come. Then she turned her eyes to him.

“Blue norther,” he repeated with more emphasis. “Strong weather change. There’ll be sleet or freezin’ rain at first. Then, it’ll get really cold.”

Merita glanced back to where Rafe came from, then over at him. Her expression said she didn’t know whether he was kidding her. A tiny half smile formed on her lips.

“Are you telling me …?” she began.

Rafe interrupted her. “Yes, I’m tellin’ you a big storm’s comin’, and it’s gonna get real cold. Now, tighten your cinch. We gotta find a place to ride this out.”

He mounted and headed out across the path of the storm. Hopefully, she followed.

She did, and trotted her horse up beside him. “Tell me what we’re looking for, and I’ll help.”

Without slowing from the fast walk, he replied, “Someplace out of the wind. An’ with a roof if possible. We gotta stay dry an’ as warm as possible.”

Rafe knew their best bet would be in an arroyo if they could find an overhang to get under. Second best would be a blow-down of the right kind.

They rode on with Rafe keeping an eye on the fast-encroaching storm. The wind grew colder as they rode.

An arroyo opened up in front of them, but it ran north and south. That would just funnel the wind right to them. The next one ran east and west, but was much too shallow, just a dip in the land.

Another glance at the clouds showed Rafe they were in trouble. Half the sky was covered by those blue-black clouds which advanced even as he watched.

In the near distance, he saw the tops of trees whipping back and forth in the wind.

“Let’s ride over there,” he said as he chin-pointed to the trees. “If we can’t find somethin’ there, we gotta put somethin’ together – and soon.”

With only about a quarter of the sky not covered by clouds, Rafe touched the buckskin’s flanks with his heels. The tough, plains-bred horse immediately broke into a slow gallop. Rafe didn’t want to push him any harder because of the chance of stepping in a hole and breaking a leg.

Besides destroying a great horse, such an incident would likely doom him to a slow death either in the storm or on the prairie later. He didn’t know how much he could count on Merita to help him in that kind of situation.

They made it to a small grove of trees that grew in a shallow depression. The trees grew large due to a spring-fed pool covering an area about ten feet across.

“Well, we’ll have plenty of water,” he said, pulling the buckskin to a halt.

“That’s something, at least.” Merita looked around the pool. Then her head stopped in the direction straight across the pool from where they stood. “Is that a downed tree over there?” She pointed at something in the shadows across the water.

“Looks like it. Might’s well go see.” Another glance overhead. “We gotta do somethin’ real quick.”

They found not one downed tree, but several of them. “Prob’ly blown down in another storm,” Rafe remarked, looking them over.

A large cottonwood fell sometime in the past, pulling its large root ball out of the ground. Sometime later, another smaller tree fell on top of the root ball, making a perfect ridgepole.

Rafe dismounted, tied the buckskin to a sapling. “Gather a lot of wood; a lot! Pile it over close to that root ball. Get a fire goin’, but keep bringin’ in wood. We’ll need as much as you can find.”

He left her to that task and started dragging up smaller logs and leaning them against the ridgepole tree. There was no time to tie them together, so he fit them together as well as he could.

When the shelter was finished, the root ball served as a reflector for their fire and a wind break. The smaller trees against the ridgepole protected them from the worst of the falling precipitation. At the end opposite the root ball, there was enough room for the horses. If they kept the fire going large enough, the horses would get some of the heat, also.

The sleet started just as Rafe laid the last pole onto the ridgepole.

“Build the fire up,” he said to Merita when he ducked under the crude shelter. “Can’t let it go out. But we can’t build it so high it catches th’ shelter on fire. “

Both of them had put on their coats, and Merita brought both bedrolls and laid them by the fire. As long as he’d been moving around, Rafe felt fairly comfortable. But when he stopped, the cold seeped in.

Right under the ridgepole, Rafe could stand upright, but that put him standing half in the weather. Nothin’ to do ‘bout that now , he mused. Just have to hunker down an’ wait out th’ weather.

He knew this sudden change for the worse wouldn’t last more than a day or two. They just had to survive that day or two.

He walked back to the horses, ducking out of the shelter to do so. By the time he

covered the few feet to the horses, sleet covered his hat and shoulders. Ducking under cover again, he shook off the frozen stuff and unsaddled both horses. Then he rubbed them down with the saddle blankets, then turned the blankets over and laid them back on the horses.

“Well, boys, that’s the best I can do. It should help a little.” He patted both horses as he talked. “We’ll try to keep th’ fire goin’ enough for you to get some of the heat.”

When he returned to the fire, he again shook off the sleet that accumulated in the short time outside. Merita sat against the huge root ball huddled in a blanket. The fire blazed merrily in front of her.

On the return trip, Rafe brought their saddle bags and the sacks containing their cooking gear and food. He set about putting together a meal for the two of them.

First, he set a small pot full of water on the fire to boil. At the same time, he put the coffee pot on to boil. While he waited for the water to boil, he sliced fat strips of bacon into a small skillet he carried. The more hot food they could get, the better. Once the water in the pot boiled, he shaved fine bits of jerky into it. He scooted both it and the coffee pot a little farther from the fire to keep them hot. By then, the bacon was done so he dished it up onto their two plates. Then, he sliced two thick pieces of bread and fried them in the bacon grease.

“You’d make somebody a good husband,” Merita said from her blankets.

Rafe looked up from the frying pan and snorted. “Not me. I’ve been too long away from a curry comb for any woman to smooth out my hair.”

With a fork, he speared the fried bread and dropped one piece on each plate along with the two pieces of bacon already there. Good thing this food was ready. It was time to change th’ subject . After he thought this, he said aloud, “Time to eat. Coffee’s ready, too. We’ll have to eat th’ soup out of the pot.”

For the next several minutes, they ate in silence. Then, with genuine respect in her eyes, she said, “This was really good, Rafe. I already feel warmer from the inside.” She kept her gaze fixed on Rafe’s face as she sipped her coffee.

Rafe didn’t know what to say other than, “Thanks.” He tried hard not to meet her eyes. Her staring made him nervous.

To get away from her stare, he started messing with the fire. He shoved some of the partially-burned sticks into the center of the live coals. Then, he put a couple more small logs on top. After that, he scrubbed the pots and pans and their dishes and put them away. By then, the fire needed more wood.

Finally, he said, “I’m gonna go out an’ drag up some more wood.”

“Be careful,” she replied. “I don’t want to have to take care of you with a broken leg.”

With a nod, he ducked out of the shelter. Boy , he said to himself, what have you gotten into? A raider kidnaps your cousin, her no-good husband won’t get out an’ look for her, you team up with a purty woman, an’ get trapped in a storm – with her! You couldn’t ask for a better set-up for trouble.

He struggled in the rapidly-accumulating sleet not to fall and break a leg. Thankfully, he didn’t have to go far to find some sizable limbs and a smaller tree that got knocked down when a large cottonwood fell.

First, he carried the limbs back to the shelter. Merita was wrapped in her blanket and

sitting against the root ball again. Rafe dropped the limbs on the pile and stepped over to the

side of the fire and held his hands out to warm them.

“Cold!” he said when he caught the young woman staring at him again. “An’ gonna get colder, I bet.”

She didn’t reply for several seconds that felt much longer to Rafe. Just stared at him with those big, round brown eyes. Then, in a soft voice, she said, “We need to figure out what to do to keep warm.”

Again, he didn’t know what to say. So he just nodded, warmed himself a little more. “Reckon I’ll go drag up that blow-down I found.”

Before she could respond, he ducked out into the sleet again. It had built up to a couple of inches in the time he’d been warming. The going was treacherous. Twice in twenty feet, he felt the soles of his boots starting to slide. Dragging the deadfall back to the shelter would be an adventure.

Even as he thought this, another thought came to him. Somebody once said adventure is just another word for trouble.

Another slip of his boot brought his attention back to not breaking a leg. He found it a tiny bit easier to walk without sliding by planting his boot heel solidly with each step. This also both slowed his progress and used more energy.

It took him a good half hour to cover the seventy-five yards to the blow-down. He had to move slow and not work up a sweat. Any moisture next to his skin could freeze and drain all heat from his body.

Going back would take longer.

When he got to the blow-down, Rafe stopped for just a minute or so to catch his breath. He knew not to stop long because his muscles would tighten up in the cold.

While he rested, he examined the tree on the ground. Sleet and a little freezing rain almost froze it to the ground. Rafe would expend a lot of energy breaking it free.

He walked along the slender trunk, kicking the wood to break the icy lock. Finished with that, he grabbed the larger end and started lifting. At first, nothing happened. Taking a deep breath, he tried again.

An inch of movement that time.

Another effort, another couple of inches.

Rafe breathed hard from the exertion. He stood to catch his breath and straighten his back muscles. No more than twenty seconds.

Then, on his third try, he got both hands under the butt end of the slender trunk and his feet directly under his hands. As he straightened his back, he pushed upward with all the power he could get from his legs.

For the first couple of seconds, it felt like he tried to lift the very earth from under his feet. Then, oh so slowly, the ice released its stranglehold on the tree. In only seconds, the tree literally popped free.

Once he pulled the entire tree free, Rafe drug it a few yards to make sure it would move. a twenty second rest came next.

The sleet fell hard and continuously. He used his hands to swipe it off his shoulders and to beat it off his hat as best he could.

He could tell the cold intensified as well. His feet felt like icy extensions of his legs. Moving his toes in his boots required much effort.

In order to pull the blow-down, he had to wrap his right arm around the trunk a little way up from the butt end. There was a limb there that gave him a little purchase. Holding the trunk tightly to his side, he pulled the tree along, digging his heel in every time he made a step.

Head down to be certain of where he stepped, Rafe drug that blow-down toward their shelter. When he estimated he should be close, he started looking around.

At first, everything looked the same. All covered in ice. The late afternoon light was dampened by the clouds and heavy sleet, making it hard to see the few landmarks he counted on to guide him to the shelter.

I’m sure it’s close around here. My sense of direction and distance ain’t that bad . He started looking for the general shape of the shelter. It didn’t take long then to spot a likely-looking shape. Sure enough, at one end, the sleet was melted from the heat of a fire underneath.

Gathering his strength, Rafe set off again, pulling the blow-down around the end of the shelter away from the root ball. In another minute, he dropped the tree just outside the shelter and ducked inside.

“I was starting to worry,” Merita said from the blanket she wrapped herself in. “What happened? What took you so long?”

Rafe stood as close to the fire as he could, his hands held over it. “Took longer to break the blow-down free than I figured.”

He opened his coat to let the heat in. Merita had tossed a couple of the big limbs onto the fire while he was gone. Now, Rafe reached out and pulled another large limb inside and onto the fire.

“It’s going to take a lot of wood to get through the night, isn’t it?” Merita’s voice sounded small and almost afraid. Her eyes widened as she stared at him.

“Yep.” He nodded and turned around with his back to the fire. “Soon’s I get a little warmer, I’ll go break some limbs off the blow-down. We’ll have to be sure to keep enough wood close.” A pause, long enough to take a deep breath. “It’s gonna get colder. A lot colder.”

Rafe buttoned his coat, warmed his hands again, and ducked back outside. With his boots, he kicked the ice off some of the limbs farthest from the fire. That part of the tree closest to the fire had much less ice on it. He wanted to save that for later when it got colder so he wouldn’t have to go far to get wood.

He broke off three of the largest limbs and brought them under the shelter. Quickly, he broke the limbs into shorter pieces and stacked them near where Merita sat. From there, either of them could toss the pieces onto the fire.

Done with that, he warmed himself again. When he’d stood by the fire as long as he thought he could get by with, he stepped over to his bedroll and untied it. He folded his ground cloth in fourths and laid it on the ground for as much insulation from the cold ground as he could get.

Merita immediately pulled the folded-over ground cloth closer to her. She glanced up at him from the tops of her eyes.

Rafe swallowed hard. Never had he sat so close to a woman before. And certainly not to one who clearly wanted him to sit close. What was he to do?

After just a brief hesitation, he pulled his blankets around him and sat down. When he sat, he left a gap of a few inches between them.

Merita immediately closed that gap.

Rafe decided all he could do was sit there and take it. Wrapped in both his blankets, he stretched his feet out toward the fire in front of him. He could hardly feel them.

With a sigh, Merita laid her head on Rafe’s shoulder.

Gonna be a long night , he realized.

Chapter Thirty-two

Snake Eyes threw aside the flap on the front of his tent and stepped out in the bright sun the same morning Tess left her cave. Although he could see the fog of his breath in the crisp air, the sun’s warmth held promise of a warm-up.

He stretched his arms overhead and took in a deep breath. The warm smell of bacon filled his nose along with an undertone of wood smoke and horse. A glance over at the women huddled under the trees around the fire with their blankets wrapped around their heads showed him they were all right.

He also saw the two guards he posted over the women standing, covered in their ponchos, some ice still showing on their shoulders. I knew they’d stay awake, he said to himself. After what I did to those two who let the woman escape.

Over at the cook fire, Snake Eyes accepted a plate of food from the cook. “Bacon and beans again?” he asked the cook.

“That’s all there is, Jefe.” The cook shrugged. He was the only one of Snake Eyes’ men who wasn’t afraid of him.

With a nod, Snake Eyes turned and ate his breakfast. A nod of thanks, and he accepted a cup of steaming black coffee.

As he sipped the coffee, he glanced around at his men. They all looked tired. Tired and something else, something he couldn’t place. None of them would meet his eye. Maybe the breed would know.

Looking around, he spotted Whitehorse standing with a group of the men.

“Whitehorse!” he called. Once his lieutenant lifted his head to see who called him, Snake Eyes waved him over.

The breed hurried over, concern clear on his face. “Yes, Boss?”

With another motion of his hand, Snake Eyes indicated he wanted the breed to walk with him. They walked out past the edge of the trees that sheltered his men.

“The men seem tired,” he said when they stopped. “What do you think?”

“They have been working hard for you, Boss,” Whitehorse responded. “You’ve sent them out every day, all day.”

“Yes, and they’ve found nothing. Nothing!” Snake Eyes spat out the words right on the heels of the breed’s.

All Whitehorse could do was nod, hang his head, and then raise his eyes to meet his boss’s. Then he waited.

Snake Eyes glared at the breed, angry, but knowing it wasn’t the man’s fault no sign of the woman had been found. He jerked his head away and stared off toward the camp. After a couple of minutes, his temper cooled, and he turned back to Whitehorse.

“Is that all?” When he saw the questioning expression on the breed’s face, he added, “All that you think about the men?”

“No, Boss.” Whitehorse took a second before he went on. “We’ve been stopped here a long time, Boss. Longer than we ever stopped before, and longer than we ever planned to stop anywhere. Our plan has always been to hit hard an’ fast an’ get back to Mexico where nobody’ll chase us. That’s worked real good so far. Th’ men don’t see why we’ve changed our plan this time.” A pause, long enough to take a breath. “An’ we’re runnin’ out of food.”

When he stopped, Snake Eyes just stared at him. He knew the breed had more on his mind, even though that was the most he’d heard the man say at one time. “What else? There’s more you want to say. Go ahead.”

“Boss, I don’t want to make you mad.”

“You won’t. Go ahead an’ say it.”

Whitehorse looked at Snake Eyes’ face as if evaluating whether he should go on or not. He met his boss’s stare directly. “All right, Boss. This is it: A lot of th’ men think you’re too worried about this one woman. Sure, she got away, an’ that don’t set well with none of us. But she’s prob’ly dead out there on the prairie somewhere. How could a woman survive by herself, anyway? With all this weather? Why, she prob’ly froze to death yesterday in all that cold. Or maybe died that first night. Else, how could she leave no tracks?” He stood up straighter, determined to take whatever came like a man. “That’s all I got to say, Boss.”

Snake eyes glared at his lieutenant for several seconds. His anger threatened to flare up, but he worked to control it. He gritted his teeth, and the muscles at the hinges of his jaws grew hard and round as steel balls.

He inhaled and exhaled noisily through his nose. “All right. Here’s what we’ll do. Send a man east and a man west to hunt meat. Tell them to kill something or run a couple head of cattle in here. Then you an’ four of the others will ride back north to see if you can find any sign. I want either that woman who got away, or that woman th’ men saw with that other hombre.” Another look around the camp. “Get ‘em together an’ sent out. Tell th’ men two more days, then we hit th’ trail.”

Watching the breed walk away, Snake Eyes felt the little mouse feet of a shiver run up his pine. The first that that came to his mind was, Somebody just walked across my grave .

Chapter Thirty-three

Tess left her cave shelter in the middle of the morning. With the sun, the sleet had melted and the air warmed. Her rest over the past day and a half helped. At least she was rested.

But hunger and thirst were a very different story. The little bit of jerky she’d stolen was gone two days before. Water was iffy, but with the sleet melted, there could be more available for a day or so.

Thinking about water, and especially food, caused her mouth to water. Surprising considering I’m so dry inside.

Worse, her stomach growled, and she felt a stab of real pain in her belly.

I’ve got to find something to eat. If I don’t, there won’t be any energy left. And this close to home, I’m not going to lay down and not be able to finish this .

When she climbed out of the arroyo, Tess quickly found a natural cistern among some low rocks. It held a couple of gallons of melted sleet, and the water tasted wonderful. She drank all she could hold, hoping having her stomach full of water would dampen the hunger pangs.

It worked for the first hour.

As she walked, her strength faded more. The makeshift sandals she made out of the cowhide also began slipping more on her feet. These two things scared her. For the first time, she wondered whether she’d ever see her home again.

“No. Don’t even let those thoughts start.” She knew she must be stern with herself. That would be the only way she’d make it back home. “Stay positive. I’m going to get back home. And one of the first things I’m going to do is tell Edward to get out.”

Her stomach began growling again, as fierce as ever.

Another hundred yards further on, she stumbled over another cistern. Such natural basins often held water for a short time after a rain. Or, as in this case, after a storm dumped snow or ice over an area. Usually small in size, the water typically evaporated quickly under the sun’s attack. Animals learned where these cisterns were and would make sure to drink their fill when possible. The same cisterns saved many a traveler’s life, and likely took many, also. That would happen when a traveler counted on water being in the cistern, and it turning out to be dry.

The second one Tess found held less than a gallon in a small basin with sand around most of it. Tracks of many tiny animals showed in the sand.

“Sorry little critters,” she mumbled. “But I’ve got to have this water.”

There was that habit again. The one many wandering men, and women, picked up of talking out loud, even though alone, just to hear human conversation. When she had filled her stomach again, she felt a little better. Glancing around as she rested, her gaze roamed across what looked like a tree limb stuck between two large rocks.

I should get that. It might come in handy. For sure, it will give me more support as I walk, and I could use it as a club if need be .

The limb may not have been there long. It probably was carried there by one of the major storms over the last few days. About eight feet long, it was as thick as a small man’s wrist. Tess grabbed it easily with both hands and pulled it from between the rocks. A slight bend in the wood right near the middle of it provided a solid handhold.

She set off again, staff in hand.

Making her way through a part of the prairie that was all jumbled up with rocks tumbled everywhere, she said a little prayer of thanks that she had the staff.

In a short while, her stomach began cramping because she had nothing to put in it. With the cramps came a slight nausea. But more important was the loss of energy that accompanied the cramps. It seemed like all of a sudden her muscles turned to water. She had to stop and lean on her staff for a few minutes to build up the strength to go on.

Starting off again, she felt scared.

Her steps became slower, more labored. When she lifted her feet, it felt like the ground reached out and tried to hold them tight. Each time she managed to lift one foot, it dragged along the ground instead of clearing it. This raised a lot of dust and her feet found lots of rocks. She stumbled and nearly fell a couple of times. This kind of walking also put more pressure on the sandals she’d fashioned, wearing them out faster.

The longer she walked, the more she felt the impact of the sun. It hit her head like a physical blow, making her dizzy at times, lightheaded nearly all the time. Her breath came harder with every step. And it wasn’t even summer yet.

Hunger haunted her relentlessly. Stomach pains wracked her midsection without ceasing. At times, they nearly bent her double.

She went on like that for another half-mile. Her progress slowed due to the loss of energy. The stomach rumbles and cramps continued, grew worse. Once, she pulled up some new growth of grass and stuffed the tender shoots in her mouth. With no moisture there, she could barely chew the shoots. Swallowing them proved impossible. Instead, she spat the wad of grass out onto the ground.

That wad of grass lying there on the ground seemed symbolic of her trials somehow.

A scatter of rocks under a small grove of trees held another small cistern with water in it. The half-gallon or so hadn’t evaporated because of the shade of the trees. It tasted just as cold and sweet as the other had. When she finished, enough water to cover the bottom of the small basin remained. She stayed, lying there, for a few minutes trying to gather strength to push on.

She either passed out or went to sleep because the sun rode past the top of the sky when she opened her eyes again. A sigh, and she grunted her way to her feet. Once there, she stood another moment leaning on her staff.

While she stood there, growls sounded from the direction of what looked like a drop-off about twenty yards from her. Then she heard a cow bawl from the same area.

What in the world?

She made her way slowly to the edge of the drop-off and saw a cow standing another twenty yards away. As Tess could see, the cow had just given birth, but the calf was nowhere to be seen. The cow bawled again. Her gaze was fastened on something a little way to Tess’s left.

The growls drew Tess’s attention to that same spot. Two coyotes worried at something lying on the ground.

The coyotes looked to be youngsters, maybe last year’s pups. Both were thin. She could see their ribs through the gray hair that covered their bodies. One had a scar that ran from its left eye down under its jaw. Both of them acted very hungry.

Then she saw what they worked on. The body of the just-delivered calf lay at the

bottom of the drop-off. Apparently, something went wrong with either the pregnancy or delivery. It looked like the calf never got to its feet after the birth.

It had to be something like that. The mother cow wouldn’t have let the coyotes get close enough to her calf to kill it as it was born. The only explanation for the scene below was that the calf was stillborn.

But it was food! If she could get it.

Could she get down there? And if she did, could she drive the coyotes away?

That first question proved easy. All she had to do was slide down on her butt. Only about fifteen feet high, the drop-off would be easy to slide down.

The other question might be harder to answer. She had the strong staff and a knife. Like many people who chose to live on the frontier, she’d heard the stories of survival from both current and older times. Especially the tale of Hugh Glass, who survived an attack by a grizzly, abandonment by those left behind to bury him, and a three-hundred plus mile journey to safety. Crawling! Glass had driven wolves from a fresh kill to claim the meat for himself. And this with no weapons!

Tess thought about this for a few seconds. He did that with less than I have, and he was in worse shape. I should be able to scare off two mangy coyotes . She paused, the reality of her situation sinking in. If I don’t do this, I probably won’t make it back home .

From somewhere deep at her core, she pulled up a burst of energy, possibly the last she had in reserve. Sitting down with her legs hanging off the edge of the drop-off, she gave a little push and scooted down the slope on her butt. She used her heels to slow her slide so she wouldn’t go tumbling down and hurt herself.

Both coyotes lifted their heads from the calf’s stomach and watched this strange creature slide down toward them. Neither seemed concerned. One put its head down and pulled off a chunk of meat from the carcass. The other growled, then joined the first once more.

Tess made it to the bottom of the drop-off and stood. The coyotes both raised their heads again. After a moment staring at her, both growled more.

As she stood, Tess gathered her skirt in one hand and flared it out so she would look bigger. She figured size mattered when trying to scare coyotes.

“Hiii-yahhh!” she croaked, holding up the staff for emphasis. “Get away from that, you coyotes!” Her voice grew stronger as she kept yelling and advancing. “That’s my food!”

At first, the coyotes jumped back a few feet when they heard her voice. They had lived long enough to associate the human voice with bad things happening to them.

Tess continued yelling and walking purposefully toward the coyotes. “Hiii-yahhh! Get away! I’m going to eat that calf!”

After retreating another couple of steps, the coyotes seemed to realize she didn’t have a gun. This gave one of them the false hope he could make her go away by growling, raising his hackles, and stepping forward.

It didn’t work.

The aggressive coyote came in range of the staff Tess now held in both hands over her head. She brought the staff down on the coyote’s head with all the force she could. It knocked him flat on his belly.

With a yelp of hurt and surprise, the coyote jumped to its feet again and ran. After five seconds’ hesitation, the other coyote ran after him.

Tess watched them for a long minute to be sure they were gone. Then she turned to the calf. Sure enough, it had been stillborn. At least as far as she could tell.

She turned her attention to the cow standing and staring at her from a distance. “I’m sorry, Mama. I’ve got to eat your calf so I can stay alive. If you’re one of ours, you’ll get another chance.”

The altercation with the coyotes took a lot out of Tess. She sank down on the ground next to the calf’s carcass and just sat for a time. Every so often, she glanced in the direction the coyotes ran. She got a glimpse of one of them ducking around a rock two hundred yards away. As soon as she left the calf, they would be back on it. When she turned back to the cow, she had lowered her head and began to graze.

Tess pulled the Indian boy’s knife from its sheath and tested the edge of the blade. It was still sharp.

“Hope it’s sharp enough,” she muttered. “I don’t have the strength to saw through this meat.”

She sliced thin strips from the young muscles of the calf. Eating slowly, Tess filled her belly with the meat. As she did, she felt hope growing once more.

She ate as much as she could, resting frequently to let her stomach get used to food once more. When she reached the point of complete fullness, she cut a few more long, thin strips to carry with her. She didn’t know how long the meat would stay good, but figured she could get at least one more meal from it.

After that? She simply didn’t know.

Chapter Thirty-four

That same day Tess left the cave that saved her, and the coyote’s, life, Rafe and Merita crawled out of their shelter. His belief that it would be a long night when they first crawled in it proved true. The next day and night were equally long. The fire ate up wood tremendously fast, so he could do no more than doze for a few minutes at a time before having to add wood to the fire or go outside to find more. And when he settled back under the blankets, Merita had fixed them so they covered both of them. And she scooted as close to him as she possibly could.

Now, outside the shelter in a warming day, he felt vastly more comfortable. He checked their horses while Merita put together something for breakfast.

After giving both horses a bit of corn he brought along for that purpose, Rafe saddled both. They seemed to come through the ice storm with no problem.

By the time he finished, Merita had their small breakfast ready. He noticed she managed to comb her black hair also. She smiled up at him as she handed him a plate.

“I hope you like it,” she said almost with an apology in her voice. “We’re starting to run low on food, so I did the best I could.”

“It’ll be fine,” he replied with a tiny smile. “I’ll try to kill an antelope or something today.”

Rafe walked outside with his plate, thinking. We sounded like an old married couple just then.

An hour later they sat their horses on top of a small rise. Rafe searched the horizon for any movement that might signal a herd of antelope they wanted to see or riders they didn’t want to see.

Nothing moved except the grass in the wind.

“See anything?” Merita asked.

“Nope. Nothin’ movin’.”

Both of them kept quiet for several minutes. They continued scanning the land around them. Rafe grew uneasy at staying exposed as they were.

“Best get down from this hill,” he said. “Too much of a chance we could be spotted.” He nodded toward another small hill about a half mile in front of them. “Let’s back down th’ way we come up an’ ride around to that hill. Maybe we can cut some sign over on th’ other side of it.”

“You think we might find the wagon tracks again?” Merita turned in her saddle and pointed in a different direction. “I thought the last tracks we saw were headed that way.”

Rafe turned to see where she pointed. “Don’t think so,” he said. “But we can ride over there if there’s nothin’ on th’ other side of that hill.”

They took their time getting down the hill and around to the other one. Raising a dust cloud would likely draw unwanted attention to them.

Once they got to the far side of the other hill, Rafe noticed the familiar deer-like tracks of antelope. He pointed them out to Merita.

“Those look pretty fresh. Let’s follow ‘em a ways an’ see if we can catch sight of ‘em.”

They followed the tracks for a good hour. At one point, the antelope had crossed and then paralleled the wagon tracks that Rafe and Merita had lost. This lifted his spirits some, knowing they were once more on the trail of finding Tess.

Another hour they rode following the antelope tracks that still paralleled the wagon tracks. Although the ice storm destroyed a lot of the wagon tracks, Rafe picked out enough of them to be certain of the way they went.

Their nooning took place in the shade of some willows growing around a spring that emerged from some rocks. A pool about thirty feet across made a green oasis in this land of brown and tan.

As Rafe gnawed a piece of jerky washed down by fresh water from his canteen, he kept an eye on the country ahead of them. Off in the distance, he saw an upthrust of rock that formed a wall rising from the dust. It rose up about a mile away from where he stood. Cruising the thermals above it, a half-dozen vultures appeared to be investigating something on the ground.

Must be somethin’ down over there. We’ll have to go see what it is .

He started to turn and say this to Merita when movement caught his eye. Walking across the land away from the wall he’d just seen were the antelope. Then or fifteen of them, ambling along toward a small rise in the land ahead. They didn’t hurry, but made directly for the rise.

“Merita!” he said, keeping his voice low. “The antelope are just ahead probably a mile.”

She eased up beside him, gazing in the direction he pointed. “Where are they going?”

“Looks like they’re headed toward that rise off to the right.” Rafe took another swallow from his canteen. “We’ll let ‘em get beyond it, then ride on that way.”

Back in the saddle after the antelope disappeared behind the hill, Rafe pulled his

Winchester from its saddle scabbard and rode with it across his saddle bow. He knew he might only get a quick shot at one of the antelope, so he wanted to be ready.

The antelope saved them.

They rode to within a hundred yards of the little rise when the antelope burst out from behind it. All of them ran at full speed away from the rise.

Rafe pulled up, motioning Merita to do the same. “Somethin’ spooked those antelope,” he said, low-voiced. “Let’s sit here a minute an’ see if whatever it was comes out.” He raised the rifle part way to his shoulder.

In a few more minutes, more movement came from the near end of the rise. A group of five horsemen rode slowly out into the open and stopped suddenly. One of them yelled something and someone fired a pistol, even though they were clearly far out of range.

Rafe raised the rifle to his shoulder and fired off four quick shots. Those shots served to scatter the horsemen. More than one was bucked off. He shoved the rifle back into its scabbard.

“Let’s go!” he yelled to Merita. “It’s those raiders!”

His buckskin knew to stand firm while Rafe shot from his back. He also knew to run when his master’s heels hit his flanks.

Merita’s horse caught up to the buckskin, and the two of them raced across the prairie. Rafe kept a watch on the ground ahead of them and horsemen behind.

The raiders regained their horses and started after Rafe and Merita. They rode good, fast horses. In a short while, they began closing the gap.

Merita glanced over at him. “Did you hit any of them?”

“Doubt it,” Rafe yelled back. “Too far off for a good shot.” He took a quick look back over his shoulder. “We’ve got to find a place to fort up an’ drive ‘em off. Look for a bunch of boulders or trees or somethin’.”

Lying beside the carcass of the calf enjoying her full belly, Tess heard the first shot, followed by the four rifle shots. She knew that couldn’t be a good thing, but had to see what was going on. Carefully, she eased her head up enough to see over the grass growing all around her.

At first she saw nothing, but heard the thudding of galloping horses. They came from her left, riding hard along the wall of the drop-off behind her.

“Rafe!” she whispered as she recognized him.

Tess started to struggle to her feet and yell at him, but the person with him turned around in the saddle and fired a couple of shots at someone behind them. She stayed low and heard more shots from further to her left.

Five more riders thundered by, firing at Rafe and his companion. She recognized Whitehorse in the lead.

Slowly, so as not to attract attention, she eased back down to the ground.

“Don’t waste your shots,” Rafe called to Merita who emptied her pistol at the pursuing raiders. “We may need all we have to drive ‘em off.”

She stared hard at him for a moment, then focused ahead again.

In a short time, Rafe saw a small stand of trees ahead. Probably growing around a source of water, the cottonwoods weren’t tall, but there were a dozen or more of them.

“Head for those trees!” he yelled to her.

They turned their horses and ran for the small grove. Just outside the sheltering trees, they pulled the horses to a stop. Rafe grabbed his rifle out of the scabbard and tossed the buckskin’s reins to Merita.

“Take ‘em into th’ trees where they’ll be safer from bullets.” He fired off two fast shots at the raiders. “Tie ‘em tight, so they can’t get loose.”

The raiders certainly didn’t want them to reach the trees, so they had pushed their horses hard to catch them. That brought them within range of Rafe’s rifle before they could stop and spread out. His next shot emptied a saddle, the raider throwing up his hands and tumbling backward off the horse.

Merita joined him at the tree line. She brought her own rifle with her.

“Are they still out there?” she asked as she searched the area outside of the trees.

“Yeah. I scattered ‘em some.” He nodded toward a horse that trotted away with its head held high so it wouldn’t step on the trailing reins. “Got one of ‘em.” He glanced behind them. “Gotta watch so they don’t get around behind us.”

“I don’t think they can,” Merita said. “There’s a good-sized seep back there. Not deep, but real muddy. They probably won’t try it.”

They focused their attention outward then. If Rafe’s count was right, there were four of them spread out somewhere in front of the trees. He knew they would be crawling closer, hoping to either get a shot or try to take them in a rush.

He fed cartridges into his Winchester, wanting it to be ready if the raiders did rush them. “Did you reload your pistol?” he asked Merita over his shoulder.

“Doing it now,” she replied. “My rifle’s full, too. Do you think they’ll rush us?”

“Might. We should stay ready, just in case.” He took a long time examining the layout of the land in front of them. “I think there’s a dip in the ground over on this side. At least a couple of ‘em are there.”

Merita didn’t respond for a minute. “There’s a clump of bushes over here that just moved. I don’t think it was the wind. I’m going to shoot into it and see if I hit anything.”

“All right, go ahead.”

She took her time aiming at what she thought would be a good spot in the bushes. Then, she fired. Immediately, she fired again, a little to one side of the first shot.

The second shot brought a scream followed by a man rising up partway from behind the bush and falling forward over it. He didn’t move after that.

“Two down,” she said.

“And three to go,” Rafe added. “One on your side, two over here. They may decide not to rush us now.”

An hour passed and nothing happened. Rafe knew this was the way of things in a stand-off such as this. Waiting was the hard part, whether you were on the offense or defense. He also knew those men out on the prairie grew hotter and thirstier as the time passed.

“I don’t think they’re gonna hit us,” he said. “Sun’s about to set, an’ they ain’t done anythin’. Once it gets dark, we’ll slip away on your side an’ ride out.”

Just then, the thunder of galloping horses came to their ears. “Rafe? Look there.” Merita pointed far over toward his side.

The three horsemen galloped away across the prairie.

“Pullin out. Prob’ly goin’ to get reinforcements.” He started back to their horses. “Likely they’ll be back in th’ mornin’ with more guns. We should plan to be somewhere else.”

Chapter Thirty-five

As soon as she knew the raiders riding after Rafe had passed her by, Tess eased to her feet and started along the drop-off. She wanted to see where Rafe and whoever was with him went. She felt sure he could either out-run or out-fight the raiders. And when he did, maybe she could signal him somehow.

She hadn’t gone far before she heard more shots – far off. Going fast was out of the question. Her weakness, even with the good meal of calf meat, and her footwear kept her slower than she wanted.

Past the end of the wall formed by the drop-off, she saw dust in the distance, over a mile away. While she paused to catch her breath, more shots came to her ears.

Off to her left probably two hundred yards, a jumble of good-sized rocks caught her eye. Out of habit, she studied them for a place to shelter, if needed. One looked to be the size of a stage coach, with the others much smaller. All seemed to be tumbled together at the base of a hill. It appeared the largest one broke off the side of the hill near the top and carried or pushed the smaller ones with it.

If I can get to the top of that hill, maybe I can see where Rafe is. And he could see me if I can figure out a way to signal him. If I can get up there .

With the new-found strength from her belly-full of meat, Tess struggled across the prairie toward the hill. She made pretty good time most of the way, until she came upon a large area of low-growing cactus directly in her path.

The detour she had to make put her rounding the hill and climbing up the back side. Even though the going proved fairly easy, it took her a couple of hours to make the top.

Once there, she sank to the ground in exhaustion. Tired and weak as she was, she scooted to the edge of the spot the largest boulder fell from and stared out in the direction of the shots.

There, about a mile away, she saw a small grove of trees. That must be where Rafe went. How can I signal him that I’m here? Maybe I can tie a piece of my dress to this limb and wave it to get his attention.

She started to tear more of the hem of her dress when she thought again. Wait! What if those raiders are still there? They might see me instead. If they did and came after me, I couldn’t get away.

Tess sank to the ground, frustrated, angry, and disappointed. What could she do? Rafe was just over there! Her cousin, the one who promised to always protect her. How he got word she was in trouble, she didn’t know. And didn’t care. He was here; he’d rescue her. But only if she could let him know where she was.

Enough time passed for the sun to lower itself halfway down the rim of the world. Another half hour and it would be too dark for Rafe to spot her.

Tess raised her head from the ground and saw dust in the air in front of the trees. As she watched, the dust cloud moved away from her. But who was leaving, Rafe or the raiders?

Oh, please let it be the raiders!

She sat up, started to tear more the hem from her dress. Then, from the corner of her eye – movement off to her right. There shouldn’t be anyone in that area.

Slowly, she turned her head to get a better look. Indians! They looked like the same bunch that boy rode with. The one whose knife she wore on her belt.

As she watched, one got down from his horse, knelt close to the ground, and studied something. Then he stood, said something to the others, and pointed in her general direction.

They’re following my tracks!

Attracted by the gunfire, they came to investigate and ran across her tracks. This realization started her heart thudding against her ribs. She knew what to expect if captured by those Indians. And she could expect worse treatment because they’d find that boy’s knife on her. For a second, she considered burying it under one of the low bushes around her. No – it might come in handy. I’d better keep it.

She watched the Indians for a few more minutes while she considered what to do. They were at least a quarter mile away, and the light faded fast. Not even Indians could follow a trail in the dark.

Tess considered that. It could be what saves me. They’ll have to stop pretty soon and make camp. If I can figure out a way to get down from here without making noise, I can hide until they go away tomorrow.

As she watched, the Indians stopped and dismounted. They had to stop for the night and would, in all likelihood, start after her again tomorrow.

I’ve got to find a way to climb down from here and not leave tracks. Then where will I go? I have to hide. If I just take off across the prairie, they’ll see me .

Then, in the dim evening twilight, her gaze came across the jumbled boulders and rocks below her. If I can get in there, in some spot they’d never expect, without leaving tracks, I might get out of this.

She remembered the low-growing cactus across her trail. The Indians would never expect her to cross that and get in among those rocks. How to do it?

Then it came to her . I’ll tie strips from my dress around my feet. That will let me leave at least less distinct tracks and protect my feet from the worst of the cactus spines .

Several more minutes of thinking brought nothing better to her mind. By that time, enough shadows filled the surrounding prairie that she couldn’t see the Indians. She prayed that also meant they couldn’t see her.

Working as quickly as she could, Tess tore more strips from the bottom of her dress. Once she had what she thought would be enough, her dress only covered her legs to the knees.

Scandalous! she mock-chided herself. Showing so much leg! What will people think? Then she smiled in the dark. I don’t care! I’ll walk home naked if I have to .

She wrapped her feet tightly in several layers of cloth and tied the ends firmly around her ankles. When she stood, she found the wraps more comfortable than she thought.

Going back down the hill proved slower than she thought. She had to be extra careful not to dislodge any rocks. Sound carried a long way across the prairie at night. Fortunately, the wind blew across her path, so it would carry any little sounds she made away from the Indians. And it would take her scent away from the Indian ponies.

By the time she got off the hill, a quarter moon had risen in the east. The light of that moon would help her pick a way through the cactus and into the rocks.

She stopped to catch her breath at the bottom of the hill. Walking through the cactus in the day time would be hard. At night, it was almost impossible. But she would do it. She had to!

In the first part of this trial, the going proved marginally easier. More open ground lay between the cactus plants. Hopefully, whatever sign she left there would be so ambiguous as to be unnoticed.

In places, she held the cactus plants aside so she could avoid them. Later, when the cacti grow closer together, she couldn’t do that.

And they did grow closer together. Sometimes, much closer. All she could do was plant one foot, raise the other over the cacti while using the staff to support her, and step into a tiny open space a little further along. At times, there was no open space she could see. Then she just lowered her foot onto one of the plants, hoping the spines wouldn’t penetrate the layers of cloth.

For the most part, the wrappings did protect her feet from the cactus spines. At least the bottoms of her feet. Tess had been very careful to overlap the strips on the bottoms, knowing this area would be most exposed to the spines.

But in the dark, it hadn’t been possible to wrap her entire feet as well. This allowed some spines to punch through into Tess’s skin. As she stepped through the cacti, more and more of these spines pierced the skin on the tops of her feet and her ankles.

She knew she couldn’t make a sound, no matter how many of these spines punctured her feet. Even the slightest whimper might be heard by any Indian that might be awake.

So she continued, slow step by slow step, across the field of cacti, tears coating her cheeks. It took her two more hours, but she finally reached the end of the cacti and the edge of the rocks.

As soon as she found a clear space, Tess sank to the ground, quietly sobbing because of the agony of the cactus spines in her feet. She knew she couldn’t sit there long; she had to find a place to hide.

In another few minutes, she struggled to her feet and hobbled further into the rocks . I need to find a place those Indians won’t believe I’d hide. Almost some place in plain sight.

She passed by the largest boulder. If they came into the rocks looking for her, the first place the Indians would look would be around that large boulder.

Instead, she wanted a place among a few small rocks. A place that couldn’t be seen from the top of the hill.

In another few moments, she found what she wanted. Up against the side of the hill, a tiny space seemed to be concealed from the top of the hill by the hill itself. At that place, the hill seemed to lean outward a little. This created the tiny hidden space. In front of this space, several smallish rocks about the size of her head lay scattered. Enough loose sand and dirt covered the ground for Tess to pull over her legs and some of the other parts of her body.

There was little else she could do. Pulling the spines from her feet was out of the question. There just wasn’t enough light. She would have to grit her teeth and wait.

Fortunately, she was spared the agony of waiting and dealing with the pain. Exhaustion, weakness, pain, and being drained mentally took her to sleep quickly.

Chapter Thirty-six

Several miles away, the survivors of the running gun battle with Rafe and Merita walked exhausted, lathered horses into the camp where Snake Eyes waited. As the one in charge of the party, Whitehorse dismounted in front of his boss.

He knew he’d failed in his mission. Yes, they’d found the man and woman, but caught neither one of them. Instead he lost two men.

Whatever Snake Eyes did, the breed knew he deserved it. And he’d take it like a man.

He wasn’t prepared for what his boss did.

Snake Eyes just stood there and stared at him. No disappointment showed on his face, no anger. He just waited.

Whitehorse didn’t meet his boss’s eye at first. Instead, he ducked his head, studied the toes of his boots for a moment. With a deep breath, he lifted his head, set his jaw, and fastened his eyes on his boss.

“We caught up with that man an’ woman, Boss.” He felt proud to hear his voice so steady when he felt so scared. “‘Bout three miles north, chased ‘em ‘til they got into some trees. They killed Billy and Nob.” He paused, waited to see if Snake Eyes had anything to say. When he remained quiet, the breed went on. “I figgered with dark comin’ on, an’ me with just two men, it’d be best to come back here. With you an’ more men, I can take you back to where they are. I don’t think they’ll go anywhere tonight.”

Snake Eyes took a thin cigar from his pocket without ever taking his eyes off Whitehorse. Then, with a Sulphur match, he lit the cigar, still holding the breed’s eyes.

It grew dark. Whitehorse felt a single drop of sweat break loose from his scalp and slither down the side of his face. Someone tossed a log onto one of the fires, and the breed watched the flames reflected in Snake Eyes’ pupils.

After a few puffs to make sure the cigar was well lit, Snake Eyes took it from his mouth, examined the lit end. A few seconds later, he snapped his eyes up at Whitehorse.

The move came so quickly, the breed actually took a step back. He realized what he did and blinked rapidly as he settled himself solidly on his feet.

“You know, of course,” Snake Eyes said, his voice soft. After another puff, he continued. “I have every right to shoot you dead right now.”

“Yeah, Boss. I know.”

Another puff from the cigar. The blue cloud of smoke wreathed Snake Eyes’ head.

“What would you do if I draw my Colt right now?”

Whitehorse swallowed, hoped his voice wouldn’t shake. “Nothin’, Boss. I’d stand here an’ take what I’ve got comin’.”

Snake Eyes narrowed those bottomless black eyes and puffed a few times on his cigar. “You know I’d do that, don’t you, Breed?” At Whitehorse’s nod, he went on. “I like you, but I’d do that. An’ I’d be justified.” Another nod from the breed when Snake Eyes paused. “But I ain’t gonna do it. I ain’t gonna do it ‘cause you’re right.”

Whitehorse let out a breath he didn’t realize he held. “Thank you, Boss.”

Snake Eyes waved the cigar between them. “Forget it. Here’s what we’ll do. First light tomorrow, you’ll take me an’ two other men back to where you left that hombre an’ the’ woman with him. We’ll kill him an’ get her. Then, we head out to Mexico.”

Chapter Thirty-seven

At first light, the Indians broke camp and resumed following Tess’s tracks. The oldest and their best tracker, took the lead with the others trailing loosely behind. They moved fairly quickly since her tracks were not hidden because she didn’t know they were in the area.

They were also very curious about these strange tracks. They looked like human tracks, but at the same time different. The stride was short, possibly a small person, but also possibly something else. There were many legends and stories that circulated among the various tribes. Some of them told of small people, like humans but also not like humans, that sometimes walked the earth.

These Indians were curious and cautious. What could these little people do if they caught up with them?

They thought about the stories they could tell around the fires back at home if they caught one of these little people. And as strange as these tracks they followed were, this had to be one of those little people.

That possibility of fame is what kept them going on the trail. At the same time, they kept a close watch for whoever was shooting the day before. That had to be white people, more than one. So they had to be careful.

The leader followed the tracks to the top of the hill. There, the rest of the group joined him. All of them searched the area below carefully. No one saw anything. The leader found where the tracks they were following stopped, but couldn’t pick them up again. It was as if whoever, or whatever, made those tracks sprouted wings and flew off.

He said as much to the others. All of them grew restless and made it clear they wanted no part of something that walked like a human, then sprouted wings and flew away.

The leader walked over to the edge of the hill where the large rock below broke off. He looked over, saw nothing. As he turned to wave the others to leave, he dislodged a rock that bounded down the hill.

That rock bounced off several other rocks and ultimately hit Tess right on the forehead. Her eyes immediately sprang open, and she went from deep sleep to completely awake. With that wakefulness, she also knew not to make any noise or movement. Only her eyes moved.

Her ears were her best tool at that moment. The only thing she heard was the wind that blew constantly over that part of west Texas. Still, she didn’t move.

Ten minutes passed. Fifteen. She still heard nothing.

Slowly, she lifted herself on one elbow. She saw nothing around her. Lying back, she rubbed the rest of her sleep out of her eyes and pondered what to do next.

In another minute, she slept again. The depth of her exhaustion overwhelmed her again.

Sometime later, voices woke her again. For a few seconds, she didn’t know what she heard. The fog of sleep kept her in its warm tendrils.

The voices continued. Shortly, she understood what she heard.

Someone’s just outside these rocks! I can hear them talking! She listened intently for a moment. I can’t make out what they’re saying. Are they some of the raiders? Or did those Indians find me after all?

She scooted closer to the edge of the rocks and listened again.

“Rafe?” she muttered. Again, she listened. “Rafe! That’s Rafe out there!”

She struggled to her knees, saw her cousin and whoever was with him sitting on their horses not twenty yards away. She couldn’t make out the features of the person with Rafe, but there was no mistaking his buckskin horse and the way he set him.

“Rafe!” she tried to call. With so little moisture left in her body, she could hardly make more than a croak. Quickly, she cleared her throat, licked her lips, and tried again. “Rafe!”

This time, his head whipped around toward her. She knew then he’d heard her, and she was safe. Tess sank down to the ground again as she saw him turn his horse and walk it toward her. Relief sapped all her energy again.

“Tess?” He to her as he walked the buckskin closer. “Tess, is that you? Are you hurt?”

He swung down as he brought the horse to a stop next to her. Rafe hurried to her side and dropped to his knees beside her. She raised herself up on an elbow and grabbed his neck.

“Oh, Rafe, you don’t know how glad I am to see you. I began to think no one would ever come.” She sobbed quietly and without tears.

“I’m here now, Tess. I’m here, and I’ll get you back to your ranch.”

“How did you know? Who told you about me being taken?”

He held her back a little so he could see her face. “The Sheriff in Amarillo heard about the raid, sent a wire to the Sheriff in Ft. Worth. They’re both friends of mine, so they knew I’d want to know what happened. Once I found out, I came directly here.”

“Thank you. Thank you for coming to find me.”

“I told you I’d be here if you needed me,” he said, looking directly into her eyes. “That’s what family’s for.” He looked her over. “Are you hurt?”

“More hungry and thirsty,” she replied. “Except for the cactus spines in my feet.”

“Let me see.” Rafe lifted one of her feet and examined it. “Doesn’t look as bad as it must feel. Let me help.”

He spent half an hour removing cactus spines from her feet. At the end of that time, Tess could stand and walk without pain.

He helped her on the buckskin and walked them out through the cactus field. “I can’t imagine you walking through this at night and hiding from those Indians.” Pride sounded in his voice.

“It was something I had to do if I wanted to get back home,” was all she said. After a moment, she went on. “Rafe, did you go by to see Edward?”

He hesitated a moment, then replied, “Yeah, I did.”

“Why didn’t he come to find me?”

“Said he hurt his back or his leg or somethin’.”

She thought about this for a moment. “Did he send the boys out after me?”

“Did, but brought them back to finish the spring count.”

“Thought so.” She went quiet again. “When I get back, I’m telling him to leave.”

“Thought you might.”

By then, they were out of the cactus field. Rafe helped her down, brought her his canteen.

Tess drank deeply, then saw Merita for the first time up close. “Who’s this with you, Rafe? You get a partner?”

Her cousin stared at her. “You don’t know her? This is your friend, Merita.”

“I’ve never seen her before.”

Rafe swung around, his hand going for his .45. But he stopped when he saw the black maw of the business end of Merita’s pistol.

“Good thing you stopped, Rafe.” Her smile was evil itself. “I grew to like you, but I’d have shot you anyway.” The smile disappeared. “Drop your gun belt and step back.”

“Who are you, anyway? Obviously, you’ve been lying to me.”

Laughing, she then said, “Yes, I have. And you’ve believed every lie I’ve told you. I’ve enjoyed toying with you, playing you along. You’ve been so easy to manipulate. Now I’ve caught you and this woman. I’m sure Snake Eyes will reward me accordingly.”

When she heard this, Tess literally melted to the ground. After all she’d been through, all the trials, just to have this woman find her and now want to take her back to the raider she escaped from. She had no illusions about what would happen to her.

“All right,” Merita said, waving them to the buckskin. “Mount up. We’ve got to find Snake Eyes.”

Chapter Thirty-eight

Once mounted, they turned their horses southward, Rafe and Tess riding double ahead of Merita. The young woman held her rifle loosely across her saddle bow, ready to use it if Rafe should decide to spur the buckskin and try to outrun her. But he knew he couldn’t outrun her bullet.

“I’m sorry it turned out like this, Tess,” Rafe said softly over his shoulder. “She completely fooled me. I never thought to question her about being your best friend.”

“That’s all right, Rafe.” She squeezed her arms around his middle, laid her head on his broad back. “She must’ve been very persuasive.”

With a short, derisive snort, he replied, “Yeah. Persuasive, pretty, and I’ve never been much of a hand with women.”

“I remember.” She squeezed him again. “Even at the family reunions when we were youngsters, you didn’t have anything to do with us girls. Always out climbing a tree or looking in the creek for crawdads.”

“Well, I ain’t changed much.” Silence settled down between them then, broken only by the sound of the constant wind and the soft clopping of the walking horses’ hooves on the prairie. Then, “I’ll think of somethin’, Tess. I promise you that.”

Another squeeze from her, and then hot tears soaking his shirt.

“Why do you think she didn’t tie us up?” Tess raised her chin to his strong shoulder and asked softly in his ear.

“Prob’ly figgered we weren’t goin’ anywhere. An’ her with that rifle to pick us off if we tried.”

Quiet again for several minutes. Both Tess and Rafe searched the land for something, anything, that might give them a way out of this. Neither saw anything that gave them any ideas. Then Rafe saw a few trees in the near distance that might signal water.

“I’m gonna see if she’ll let us stop up ahead and get some water.” This was spoken quietly so only Tess could hear. “Maybe she’ll get careless, and I can jump her.”

He raised his voice to Merita. “All right if we stop up here and get some fresh water? My canteen’s almost dry, an’ Tess needs more to drink.”

After a pause while the young woman thought about the request, she replied, “All right. Go in slow and keep your hands where I can see them.”

Rafe guided the buckskin to the screen of trees, helped Tess down, then dismounted. Merita held back a little way, her rifle now covering them. They walked to the edge of the pool of water, knelt down to scoop up a drink.

Tess glanced back over her shoulder at Merita. The young woman had her head turned slightly away from them, looking into the distance. She had not searched Tess and thus hadn’t found the Indian boy’s knife. Tess pulled it from her belt and slipped it into Rafe’s boot. Neither of them gave any indication that anything had happened.

“All right, that’s enough!” Merita said. “Move back out here in the open. We’ve got company coming.”

When Tess and Rafe stood in the open they saw a dust cloud approaching. It hovered above four riders, Snake Eyes in the lead.

Tess’s knees nearly buckled, but Rafe grabbed her and held her up. “Stay alert,” he said. “Don’t give up hope. Maybe we can figger somethin’ to do.”

The four riders pulled their horses to a stop a few feet in front of Rafe and Tess. The three riders with Snake Eyes rested their hands on their pistols. Merita dismounted, and Snake Eyes jumped down from his horse and strode over to her. The two of them embraced like long-lost lovers. The lengthy, deep kiss that followed showed that to be exactly what they were.

“Ah, My Love, it’s been too long this time.” Snake Eyes pulled back just enough to say this, then kissed Merita again.

“It has been too long, Love,” Merita said when they separated again. “But this time, I brought you something. A man to kill, and the woman who must’ve escaped from you.”

Snake Eyes looked over at Rafe and Tess without releasing Merita. “Ah, yes. Thank you. I’ll enjoy punishing the woman.” He gazed into the young woman’s eyes again. “Did you know she’s the first to successfully get away from me? That will require some unique kind of punishment, don’t you think?”

“I’m certain you can think of something, Snake Eyes.” Merita directed her gaze to Rafe and Merita as she said this, an expression of desire on her face. “I can hardly wait to watch.”

“Tell me, My Love,” Snake Eyes went on. “Did you enjoy your time with this hombre?”

“Oh, yes. He was easy to fool. He never had an idea that I worked with you.” She stared at Tess. “And I don’t think this one ever knew I’d followed her from Amarillo out to that isolated ranch. I’m glad you got my message about her. She should bring a good price in Mexico.” She turned to Snake Eyes again. “And then we can get out of this business and go away to California or Oregon.”

“That’s exactly right, Love.” Snake Eyes let go of her and strode over to stand in front of

Rafe. “And we could have already done that if not for your interfering ways.” With that, he knocked Rafe to the ground.

Rafe struggled to his knees, feigning more injury than he actually felt. Snake Eyes took another step toward him, setting himself to hit Rafe again.

As soon as the raider was directly in front of him again, Rafe pulled the knife Tess had given him from his boot and launched himself upward from his knees. He buried the knife to the hilt in Snake Eyes’ throat, slanting upward into his brain. At the same time, he grabbed the raider’s pistol from its holster. Holding Snake Eyes up in front of him, he fired three quick shots, hitting the other three riders. Only Whitehorse got his .45 out and fired once, hitting Snake Eyes’ body.

Rafe dropped Snake Eyes and whirled around toward Merita. The young woman was on the ground, eyes wide to the sun. Tess stood over her, clutching a rock slightly larger than her fist. The same kind of rock she’d used to kill the Indian boy.

As Rafe watched, Tess slumped to the ground. He hurried over to her.

“Are you all right?” Quickly, he searched her for blood, found none.

“I, I think I’m all done in,” she replied.

Rafe held her close and shaded her face from the sun. “I would think so. But you did good, Tess. You did good.”

He picked his cousin up and carried her to the shade of the trees near the water. Then he went back out to make sure the raiders were all dead. He caught up two of their horses. They stayed there at the seep for a couple of hours while Tess recovered and Rafe buried the dead raiders.

“We need to go back and see about the other women,” Tess said once she’d slept for the two hours.

“Don’t you want to rest longer?” Rafe planned to rescue the others, but his concern for Tess was strong.

She stood from the blanket he’d laid out for her. “I’m all right. I’ll be better once those other women are safe. There can’t be more than two or three men left to watch them.”

He marveled at her strength and determination. “All right. I’ll bring the horses around. We won’t have any problem backtracking them to the wagons. I don’t figger it’s very far.”

And it wasn’t far. It only took a few minutes short of an hour to find the wagons. Rafe had Tess wait behind a small rise while he scouted out the camp. Once he came back, he said, “I only saw three men. None of ‘em real watchful. Th’ women are all huddled together under some trees. We’ll need some way to distract th’ men and get ‘em all together.” He stopped then, looking at the extra horses they brought with them. “Don’t know if this’ll work, but it’s the best I can come up with right now.” He explained what he had in mind.

A few minutes later, Tess drove the extra horses in front of her right into the camp. The first man she saw was the cook. The two younger men left to guard the women turned at the sound of the hooves and walked over toward the horses. They were astonished to see Tess riding alone behind them. For a minute, they just stood there with their eyes wide and mouths open, their pistols forgotten in their holsters.

That was all the time Rafe needed. He galloped the buckskin into the camp only seconds behind Tess. His first shot took out the cook. Two quick shots hit the first guard, then the second went down with the next two shots.

Tess had already jumped down from the horse she brought to a sliding stop beside the women. Hearing the horses, then the shots, all the women had stood to see what was happening. At first, they just stood and stared at her, not realizing what had taken place.

“Tess?” The one called Sarah took a hesitant step forward as if afraid this was a trick of some kind.

“Yes, Sarah, it’s me.” Tess rushed to the women who all began talking at once.

As Rafe walked up, they squealed and started to cower.

“It’s all right, it’s all right. He’s my cousin,” Tess reassured them. “Rafe came, found me, and now has rescued us all.”

“What about Snake Eyes and the others?” Sarah asked.

“Dead. All of them.” Tess’s words were flat, emotionless. “Along with a woman who was the one who scouted out our ranches and told Snake Eyes where he could find us.”

“What about Bessie and the other woman? They killed them and just left their bodies.” This came from one of the other women.

“We found them,” Rafe explained. “Buried them until their families can come back and get them to give them a decent funeral. I can find the places where they are.”

There were tears then, of happiness and grief. Rafe left the women alone and dragged the bodies of the three raiders off to one side. Then he put together a good meal for them all. After they ate, the women mounted horses, wanting nothing to do with any of the wagons.

Rafe looked in the wagon with the tightly covered canvas and found a lot of items from several of the ranches. The women agreed some of the things belonged to them, others they didn’t know about.

Rafe drove the wagon filled with loot after loading food and cooking supplies from the chuck wagon in it. They started the slow journey to take the surviving women back home. Tess insisted on getting the other women home before she and Rafe went back to her ranch.

Chapter Thirty-nine

Five days later, Tess and Rafe approached her ranch. They’d spent those days getting the women they rescued back to their families and visiting the families of the two who were killed. Rafe didn’t think he’d ever gone through such an emotional time.

Before they got to the ranch, he asked her, “How does it feel to get back home after what you’ve been through?”

Tess thought about that before answering. “I really don’t know. Maybe if I knew there was someone there who really wanted me back, it would be different. But I’ve got conflicting feelings about it.” She took a great breath, let it out like a sigh. “I want to be back home, but I don’t want Edward to be there.” She turned to meet his eyes as he rode beside her. “Does that make me terrible?”

“Nope. I understand why you feel that way.” He smiled, a grim showing of his teeth that had no humor in it. “I wanted to take him out behind the barn in a real bad way when I found out he wasn’t even looking for you.”

She reached over and grasped his hand in a tight embrace.

When they came in sight of the ranch, Tess stopped her horse. There were buggies and wagons in the ranch yard and horses tied under the cottonwood trees behind the barn.

“Did all these people come to see me?” She stared at the gathering around the front porch. “Did you let everybody know I was coming home?” She started patting at her hair and smoothing down the front of her dress.

“Nope, wasn’t me.” Rafe shook his head, also staring at the people. “Don’t know why there’s so many there.”

They touched their heels to the horses, walked them on to the ranch. The closer they got to the main house, the less Tess thought the people were there to welcome her home. People were walking into the house and barn, carrying things out in their hands.

“What’s going on here?” she asked Rafe, without turning her head from watching the people.

“Don’t know,” he replied. “But it don’t look right.”

Before they could go any farther, a man dressed in black from head to toe stepped to the road in front of them. He stopped in the middle of the road they traveled, the one that ran right in front of the main house. His posture shouted ‘gunslinger’, down to the twin Colts he wore in tied-down holsters.

“Mr. McCaslin only wants those he invited to th’ sale.” The man looked them both up and down. “An’ you two don’t look like you got invited.”

Rafe recognized the man from things he’d heard about him. Rod Morgan, gun fighter. At least in his own eyes. Said to have killed seven men. He doubted that, unless the men were looking away from him.

“Mr. McCaslin said that, did he?” Rafe leaned forward, his arms crossed on the saddle horn. “You know who this is with me?”

Morgan glanced over at Tess, who wore a too-large dress she’d gotten from one of the families of the women they brought home. “What I see is a saddle tramp and some worn-out woman ridin’ with him. Prob’ly lookin’ for a hand-out.” He settled back with his hands hovering over the pistols he wore. “Now ride on back the way you came. Nobody wants you here.”

“Whether Edward wants me here or not, here I am.” With that, Tess heeled her horse

into a fast walk up to the house.

As she passed by Morgan, who had to jump to one side to get out of the way, the gunslinger said, “Why, you …” And he started to draw one pistol.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you,” Rafe said quietly, holding his own .45 loosely in his hand.

Morgan swallowed, stared wide-eyed at Rafe. Slowly, he raised his hands away from his guns and stepped back some more.

“Now, I’d appreciate it if you just back off a ways an’ stay there.” Rafe smiled as he said this. Then he walked his horse after Tess, not taking his eyes off Morgan.

By the time Rafe got to where Tess pulled her horse to a stop in front of the porch, Edward leaned against one of the posts holding up the porch roof, his mouth open, eyes wide.

“Hello, Edward. Glad to see me?” Tess’s words were silky, sweet, and sharp enough to cut leather. “What’s going on here?”

“Why, why, Tess. I thought you were dead!” He started to come down off the porch.

“Just stay where you are!” Tess made sure he, and everyone else, heard what she said. Obviously, everyone did because they all froze where they were. Including Edward. “It looks like you’re having a sale of some kind, Edward,” she went on in a slightly softer voice. “In fact, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were selling out.” She glanced around at the people standing there. “But I know that can’t be it because none of this belongs to you.”

“Now, Tess, let me explain.” Edward again started to climb down off the porch.

“You don’t need to explain anything, Edward. I can see what’s going on.”

“Tess, I was trying to raise enough money to come rescue you.”

“I’ll bet you were,” she interrupted. “More than a week after I was taken you decide to come find me? If it hadn’t been for Rafe here I’d be in Mexico by now, going through who knows what.”

“I tried to keep ‘em out, Mr. McCaslin.”

This came from Morgan who strutted up a few feet away. Rafe turned and slipped the thong off his pistol as he did so.

“I thought I suggested you stay where you were?” He faced Morgan as he said this.

“No saddle tramp tells me what to do!” Morgan made the mistake of going for his .45.

Rafe shot him, twice.

Morgan backed up, surprise clear on his face for an instant. He collapsed to the ground and didn’t move.

“And now, Edward, get your personal stuff and get off my property!” Tess made sure once again that everyone around her heard what she said.

Edward glared at her and Rafe, then disappeared into the house. In a few minutes, he re-emerged carrying a carpetbag stuffed with clothes. He eased down the steps in front of Tess, mounted his horse that was tied there, and rode away.

The next morning, Tess and Rafe finished breakfast. “You don’t have to leave, you know. There’s always a place here for you.”

“Now, Tess, I wouldn’t be any good for anything if I stay here. You got all the good hands you need. I wouldn’t have a thing to do. I’d get fat and lazy.”

She ducked her head for a moment, then raised it again and smiled at him. “You can

come back any time you want, Rafe. You know that, I hope.”

“Sure do, Tess. An’ I’ll be back. You’ll prob’ly get tired of seein’ me.” With that, he stood, gave her a hug and kiss on the cheek, then walked out the door.

“Where are you headed?” Tess followed him to the porch.

Rafe mounted the buckskin, settled into the saddle. “Think I’ll head up to Wyoming an’ see what’s going on with Frank. You remember my older brother? He was th’ one always teasin’ all you girls.”

She smiled at the memory. “Sure, I remember him. Last I heard, his wife was real sick.”

“Yeah. Thought I’d go check on him an’ see how she’s doin’.” With a wave and a nod, Rafe turned the buckskin west.

She stood on the porch, waving, as he rode away.