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hands. He walked roughly toward Tess. Seeing his face, she almost

panicked.

She almost ran.

"Try it. I'd love it if you did!" he told her, his eyes narrowing. He

meant it. He liked the chase, he liked the fight and he even liked the

smell of blood.

She held out her hands mutely. David looped the rope around them

tightly, tugging hard on the knot. Then he caught her arm and dragged

her past the horses to the center of the little clearing where they had

paused. He shoved her down to her knees and warned her, "Sit! Just sit?

He looked over to Jeremiah.

"There's a creek down past the scrub bush over there. Nothing much. But

you can go get rid of that paint. Then I'll decide if I trust you to

keep an eye on her so I can do the same!"

Jeremiah hesitated.

"Don't you go getting' no ideas, now, David Birch."

"I ain't going to get any ideas! I want to get this blasted paint off,

and that's all!"

Jeremiah walked to the bundles and picked up a satchel of clothing.

He stared at David, then walked toward the brush.

Tess kept her eyes on David. He smiled as he watched her in turn.

"You think you're going to get around Jeremiah, don't you? Well, you're

not going to. I'm going to see to that.

You're going to reach old Chief Nalte, and then you won't have to worry

about writing those rabble-rousing pieces in that newspaper of yours

anymore, ever again.

You'll have lots of other things to think about." He cackled with

laughter.

"Lots and lots of other things. Like raising a whole little troop of

papooses, yeah." ,. Tess edge~l-around in the dirt, turning her back on

him.

He laughed all the harder, then he came forward and jerked her head back

so her eyes watered as they met his.

"I'm going to enjoy knowing where you are. Just like I enjoyed hearing

Slater's skull crush this morning. I really got a kick out of that."

She forced herself to smile.

"Maybe his skull didn't crush," she said very softly.

David gritted his teeth and yanked harder on her hair. "He's gone, lady.

Dead and gone. And you don't need to worry about that no more, either."

He walked away, leaving her in peace at last. In time, Jeremiah

returned, and he became her silent guard.

She hadn't the energy to say anything to him. They sat in silence while

the darkness fell upon them. When David re.

turned, the two men made a fire. There was cold chicken to eat and water

from canteens, but they wouldn't untie Tess's hands, and the effort to

eat suddenly seemed too great. She left the food, sipped some water and

lay down in the dirt.

She tried to tell herself that Jamie was alive. Any minute now he would

come rushing out from the bushes and kill the two men and take her away.

But he did not come. She closed her eyes in misery and tried to forget

the nightmare visions of the day.

Jeremiah came over and tossed a blanket around her shoulders and shoved

a pack beneath her head for a pillow.

"Don't think about going nowhere," he warned her. David obviously didn't

think the warning was enough. He stood and walked to the piles by the

packhorse and came back with a good length of rope. She tried to inch

away from him, but he tied one end of the rope around her ankle.

Pinching her cheek, he spoke directly into her face.

"If you move, I'll feel it. If you run, I'll make you pay for it." He

walked away with the other end of the rope in his hand.

It didn't really matter. If she had been threatened by evexy demon in

hell, she couldn't have run that night. She was too weary. Tears stung

her eyes.

When she closed them, she saw Jamie again, fighting, then falling. And

she heard his whisper.

I think I'm falling in love with you. It hurt to close her eyes; it hurt

to open them. She prayed for sleep against the nightmare images. She

tried to tell herself that he was still alive. But he would have come

for her if he was alive. He would have come.

And if he was not alive, well, then, she didn't want to live, either.

Jamie was alive, if only just barely.

Jori found him around midnight, when the moon was full and high. The

wagon had come home without Jamie or Tess, but very late. Jon had to try

and track them from town in the darkness, and even when he had found

signs that the wagon had stopped and the two of them had walked toward

the river, it still took him time to find Jamie's still, crumpled body.

He drew off his buckskin jacket and wrapped it around his friend. He

touched the wound at Jamie's temple where the blood had dried. Carefully

moving his fingers over the skull, he decided that it was not cracked or

crushed. He took his kerchief to the river and soaked it and brought it

back to Jamie, cleansing the bloo~way. Jamie's body was icy cold.

He needed warmth, and quickly.

Jon rose carefully and lifted his friend's body into his arms. He called

to his pinto and the animal obediently trotted over to him. Bracing

Jamie's weight with his hand upon the pommel, he managed to somehow

swing up with Jamie in his arms. Then he made a clucking sound and the

animal took off at a smooth lope.

At the ranch, Dolly, Hank and Jane were waiting with anxious concern.

When Jori burst in with Jamie's half naked body, Jane gasped and turned

white.

"Don't you dare faint on me, young lady!" Dolly ordered her.

"Bring him right to the sofa, Jori. Jane, you run upstairs and get

blankets, lots of them. And you, Hank, I'm going to need a sewing kit

for that wound.

Some water and ~ome alcohol to clean him up, and maybe a little for the

lieutenant to sip. My, that's a mean and nasty bash!" Hank was on his

way out. Jane was still staring in horror. "Move!" Dolly commanded her.

In a moment the young woman was back with blankets. Jon draped them

around Jamie and rubbed his feet. Hank ~turned with water and a sewing

kit, and Dolly began to clean the wound. A long gash ran into the left

side of Jamie's temple.

"It's amazing he's still breathing!" Dolly murmured. "He's Missouri

tough," Jon told her.

"He'll make it, you'll see."

"I intend to do my best to see that he does," Dolly assured Jon. She

looked at him anxiously.

"What about Tess.9" Jon shook his head.

"I don't know. I had' to get him back here before he died. I'm going

back out to see what I can find." He liftext his hat to Dolly and left.

At the door he paused and looked back.

"Now, don't you let him die."

"I'm just going to sew him up. And I'm going to pray." Jon hurried out.

But when he returned to the river, he discovered that whoever had

attacked Jamie and Tess had made an escape through the water. He would

need daylight to track them. There was nothing he could do that night.

But maybe there was. It was late, but saloons had a tendency to cater to

the late crowd. Maybe he could find out more from casual conversation

over a poker game than he could from a broken branch.

He turned the pinto toward town.

Jamie's d~s were occasionally dark and occasionally erotic, but always

fevered.

He fought giants with buffalo headdresses. Then the battle would fade

away, the powder would dissipate, the roar of the guns would cease. He

wasn't fighting Yankees anymore, he tried to tell himself in his dream

world. He was a Yankee, dressed in blue. He was a specialist in Indian

affairs, a linguist. And he knew Indians. He hadn't needed Jon Red

Feather to tell him that the Apache didn't like scalping. It was a

contaminating thing to them, and it had to be done with 191 careful