pride, and give all to this wretched rodent-all for my cause?"

"Someone should shoot you," Tess warned him. "Well, you're trying to

make me into a target, aren't you?

Ah, but then maybe, just maybe, I could die with the exquisite Miss.

Stuart's kiss still damp upon my lips."

She squirmed. She did intend to slap him. "Whoa, Miss. Stuart!" He

laughed, and his arm wound even tighter against her. They were sitting

like newlyweds, she thought disgustedly. She was halfway atop his lap

and she could barely move.

"Lieutenant, you're squashing me!"

"I'm trying to save my jaw, Miss. Stuart! Now calm down. You are

desperate, aren't you?" His eyes looked into hers, and a hard note crept

into his voice.

"You would do anything--anything at all that I asked. How very

intriguing."

"Jamie Slater" -- "Jamie!"

A sharp call from Jon caught their attention. Jamie's arm fell from

around her shoulder, and he leaned forward, reining in. Jon was riding

hard toward them. "What is it?" "Company," Jon said.

"Comanche?"

"Yep."

"How many?"

"Fifty at least. They're covering the hill over the next dune."

"Is it a war party?"

"They're out in feathers and paint, but I think it's a show. I'm pretty

sure it's Running River."

Tess watched as Jamie climbed from the wagon. She wondered if she should

be frightened, and she wondered with greater exasperation if he should

be walking away from her without a thought. He disappeared behind the

wagon, then reappeared on his roan.

"Let's go see Running River," he told Jon. "Wait a minute" -- Tess

began.

"You wanted to drive the wagon," Jamie called.

"Pick up the reins.

Drive."

Then he turned, and he and Jon raced forward. Swearing beneath her

breath, Tess picked up the reins and called to the mules. They started

plodding along.

Dolly crawled into the seat, puffing.

"Comanche! Never did trust 'em."

The mules pulled the wagon over the dune. Tess felt as if her heart

stopped, as if it caught in her throat.

The Comanche seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see.

Bare-chested, in buckskin pants, with various types of feathers banded

around their heads, they sat as still as ghosts. Many carried spears and

shields, others wore quivers at their backs and held their bows proudly.

Not one moved.

They just sat on their horses, looking down at the small party that

approached.

Tess wondered dismally if she was about to become the victim of a real

Indian. Her heart thundered, and she dropped the reins. Jon and Jamie

had pulled in before them, and they sat on their horses on the dune,

watching the Comanche.

The sky seemed afire with the morning light. Earth and horizon seemed to

stretch together in shades of dusty coral and crimson and gold. The

quiet was eerie; not even the wind whispered in the sagebrush.

Then Jamie lifted his hand in some kind of greeting. A loud, shrieking

cry sounded from atop the hill.

And then the Comanche were coming.

Tess screamed as the Indians started toward them in a blazing cloud of

dust, their whoops and cries loud. No one could ride like a Comanche.

The men lay braced against their ponies' necks, they swung beneath them,

they righted themselves again. They came closer and closer. Their cries

sounded ever louder.

Ever more deadly.

"My God, we're going to be butchered!" Tess breathed. "No, no, I don't

think so," Dolly told her calmly.

Astonished, Tess stared at the woman.

"Well, it's Running River. He and Jamie are blood brothers."

"Blood brothers," Tess repeated.

"Yes. The Comanche are warlike, of course. But not this tribe.

Running River has been peaceful since Jamie came out here. He always

deals with the lieutenant, and though there have been Comanche attacks,

they've never been perpetrated by Gray Lake Comanche."

Tess was still unconvinced. There had never been a Comanche attack on

Wiltshire--in fact some Comanche even came to town for work now and

then--but she had heard about the things that could happen, and watching

the extraordinary horsemen bear down upon them did nothing to ease her

spirit.

"My God ..." she breathed, sitting very still. The riders were circling

the wagon, shaking their spears and bows in the air. Now that they were

closer, she could see that their faces and chests were painted in

brilliant colors.

She didn't move, although she didn't know if it was courage or pure

terror that kept her still. She e0uld see Jon and Jamie, still mounted,

as they watched the thundering horses and their riders. Neither reached

for a weapon.

It would be suicide, she thought. They were drastically outnumbered.

The Indians raced by them. The whoops and the cries were suddenly

stilled, and there was silence. Only the dust remained to settle.

The Comanche were motionless again, surrounding the wagon and Jamie and

Jon.

As Tess watched, Jamie lifted his hand again. One of the Indians, his

ink-black hair falling down the length of his naked back, wearing a band

with a single dark feather, urged his mount closer. He walked his horse

straight over to Jamie. Then he reached out his hand, and Jamie clasped

it.

The Indian began to speak. Tess didn't recognize a word, but Jamie and

Jon paid rapt attention.

Then Jamie responded in the Indian's own tongue, easily, effortlessly.

Jon spoke, too, then the Comanche again.

"See," Dolly whispered.

"It was a show. It was a performance. There never was any danger."

Tess exhaled silently. One question had been answered for her. She'd

seen something like this before, but there had been differences. She'd

seen the riders--but with saddled horses, in wigs and feathers and

paint. They hadn't ridden like these Comanche. And they hadn't let out

the terrible eries.

They had been absolutely mute, carrying out their silent executions.

But she had a right to be afraid of this show. "What's going on?" she

asked Dolly.

"How should I know, dear? I don't speak that heathen gibberishl" Tess

stiffened, realizing that Jamie was gesturing to her. The Indian he was

talking to urged his pony toward her, followed closely by Jamie. Reining

to a halt in front of her, the Comanche stared at her. He started to

speak.

Tess swallowed.

He was lean, wiry, menacing in his paint, and yet when he spoke he

smiled, and his teeth were good and strong, and the smile gave some

strange appeal to his face. Tess smiled in return.

"What did he say?" she asked Jamie, between bet teeth.

"He said that he did not kill your uncle."

"Tell him I know that."

Jamie spoke, then the chief broke into a barrage of words again.

Lost, Tess kept nodding and smiling.

"What did he say now?"

"Oh. Well, I told him we were traveling to Wiltshire, and that I was

going to try to prove that the white man had been guilty. If you made it

worth my while, that is. The chief is suggesting that you make it worth

my while. He thinks that you should bargain with me."

"Oh!" Tess gasped furiously. As she frowned, the Comanche chief frowned,

too.

"Oh, my, my!" Dolly murmured beneath her breath. "Smile, Tess!" Jamie

suggested casually.

She smiled. She locked her teeth, and she smiled. The chief spoke again,

quietly.

"What did he say?" Tess demanded.

Jamie didn't answer her.

Jon did.

"He said that you were very beautiful, and that Jamie should take good

care of you."

The chief took Jamie's outstretched hand again, then lifted his spear

high and cast back his head. A loud, startling cry rent the air. Then

the riders were kicking up tremendous clouds of dust again, and racing

across the plain.

Moving like quicksilver, they touched the landscape and were gone. They

disappeared over the hill from which they had come.

Then, slowly, the dust settled again.

Jamie turned to the wagon.

"Come on, ladies. Let's make a little time here, shall we?"

Tess caught hold of the reins, called out to the mules and snapped the

leather in a smart crack. The animals started off with a jolt.

A little while later, Jon rode by the wagon. He smiled to Tess and

Dolly.

"Ladies, are you both all right?"

"Just fine, Jon," Dolly told him.

"Tess?"

She nodded gravely.

"Jon, was Jamie telling the truth?" She flushed slightly.

"Did he tell me the truth about all the chief's words?"

Jon hedged slightly.

"More or less. Running River went a little bit further than Jamie told

you."

"Oh?"

Jon shrugged.

"He said that it might have been Apache that attacked you. The Apache

have refused any treaties, they are constantly warlike, and stray bands

have been known to travel in this area frequently. The Comanche and the

Apache have often been enemies."

"Does Jamie know the Apache as well as he knows this Running River?"

"No. The Apache do not want to be known." Tess shivered, and Jori

quickly amended his statement.

"He does know a few of the warriors and chiefs. They will at least talk