"Malachi, please just let me—"

"No."

"You don't even know what I'm going to say!"

"Shannon, you listen. Stay here. Take care of Gabe. Wait, maybe Cole will come back, or will try to get a message through to you, or maybe Matthew will come home. Who knows, Matthew just may have some influence with these people. He fought long and hard in the Yank army. If he can get to the right authorities, maybe he can get Kristin back through legitimate means."

She gritted her teeth, staring at him. "Meanwhile they could kill, torture, rape or maim my sister."

He sighed, hands on his hips, and gritted his teeth in turn.

"Shannon, you may not come with me."

She lowered her head quickly, trying not to let him see her eyes. She was going about this all wrong. She knew Malachi. He was as stubborn as a worn-out mule. He wasn't going to say yes, and she was an idiot to argue it out.

She should let him leave and then follow his trail. He didn't ever have to know that she was near him. And if he didn't manage to get Kristin away from the band of Red Legs, she'd find a way herself.

"Well," she said, "let me go and get you a pair of Cole's breeches."

"Never mind," he told her. "I know where the room is." He turned on his heel and started out of the room.

"Captain Malachi, you'd better have some supper in you before you leave," Delilah said. "You wash up and dress and come on down, and eat something first. And I'll pack you up a little something for your saddlebag."

"Thanks, Delilah."

"He needs to hurry, Delilah," Shannon said sweetly.

Malachi's eyes met hers across the room, sharp and icy and blue, and he smiled. That chivalrous slant of a grin across his features might have been heart-stopping, she thought, if he had just been some other man.

"Oh, I think I have time to grab a bite," he said.

"Certainly. We wouldn't want you to go off hungry."

"I'm sure that you wouldn't."

He kept staring at her, so she kept smiling pleasantly. "You go on then, Malachi. I'll help Delilah see to some dinner."

"Fine," he said. "Thanks." He tipped his hat to her. The brim fell over his eyes, and she wondered once again what he was thinking. But he was quickly gone. She listened to the sound of his boots hitting the parlor floor, then moving up the stairway.

Delilah stood up quickly, eyeing Shannon warily. "What you got on your mind, missy?"

"Nothing that you  need to worry about, Delilah."

"Oh, I'm worried," Delilah assured her. "I'm plenty worried." She rolled her eyes Shannon's way.

Shannon ignored her. "Let's go see to something to eat," she said hastily.

Delilah sniffed. "There's plenty to eat out there. Cold roast, cold potatoes and cold turnip greens. Not very nice anymore, but there's plenty. I'll set a plate over the fire. You come pack up some food for Captain Malachi."

Shannon followed Delilah from the office through the elegant little parlor and past the entry to the stairway. She paused, looking up the steps. Malachi would be changing. Then he would eat and leave. She would have to follow quickly. She wouldn't have time to change her clothing. She'd have to roll up a pair of trousers and a cotton shirt, grab a hat and be on her way.

"Shannon?" Delilah looked at her from the doorway to the dining room. "You comin'?"

"I'm right behind you, Delilah," she said, and meekly walked through the dining room to the kitchen. "Is the smoked meat in the pantry?"

"Yes'm, it is," Delilah said, slicing roast beef on the counter and watching Shannon from the corner of her eye. Shannon ignored her and pulled two clean cloths from the linen drawer. She found strips of smoked beef and pork and began to wrap them carefully. Delilah had just baked bread, so there were fresh loaves to pack, too. She turned around just as she was finishing. Delilah was leaning against the door frame, watching her.

"And what are you doing?"

"Packing food."

"I can see that. You're packing up two bundles."

"Malachi is a very hungry person."

"Um. And you're going to give him both of those bundles, right?"

Shannon exhaled slowly. "Delilah—"

"Don't you wheedle me, Shannon. You've been wheedling me since you came up to my knees. You're grown now. I know what you're going to do."

"Delilah, I have to go after Kristin—"

"Malachi will go after Kristin."

"And what if he fails?"

"You think that it will help Kristin if they take you captive, too?"

"Delilah—"

Delilah threw up her hands. "Shannon McCahy, I can't stop you. You're a grown woman now."

"Thank you, Delilah."

"Anyway," Delilah said with a sly smirk, "I don't need to stop you."

"Oh?"

"No, missy, I sure don't. I don't need to at all."

"And why is that?"

"Why, darlin', he's gonna stop you, that's why."

"Don't you dare say anything to him, Delilah."

"I won't. I promise you that I won't. And I can tell you this, it ain't gonna matter none!"

Without waiting for a reply, Delilah turned her back on Shannon, and went to work making up a plate for Malachi, humming as she did so.

Shannon wrinkled her nose at Delilah's back. She knew darned well that Delilah couldn't see, but she might have done so, her next words came so quickly.

"You've got hay in your hair, Shannon McCahy. Lots of it. And hay stuffed right into your cleavage, young woman. You might want to do something about that before dinner."

Instinctively, Shannon brought her hand to her hair, and she did, indeed, pluck a piece of hay from it.

"I thought you weren't terribly partial to Captain Malachi?" Delilah said sweetly.

Shannon found the hay sticking from her bodice. She plucked that out, too, spinning on her heels and walking toward the door. "I'm not, Delilah. I'm definitely not."

"Hm."

She didn't have to defend herself to Delilah. She didn't have to defend herself to anyone.

Then why was she doing so?

"We had an accidental meeting in the stables, and that is all, Delilah. You were right—I'm not at all partial to Captain Slater."

Lifting her chin, she swept out of the kitchen. She paused, biting her lower lip as she heard Delilah's laughter following her. She shook her head and pushed away from the door. She needed to hurry.

She went up the stairs to her room. Beneath her bed she found a set of leather saddlebags. Dragging them out, she quickly stuffed one side with clean undergarments, a shirt and sturdy cotton breeches. The other side she would save for food and ammunition. She made a mental note to bring plenty of the latter, then shoved the saddlebags under the bed.

She stood quickly and hurried to her washstand, pouring clean water into the bowl. She washed her face and hands and realized that she was trembling. She dried off quickly, then moved to the mirror to repair her fallen and tumbling hair. Swearing softly, she discovered more hay. She brushed it out quickly and redid her hair in a neat golden knot at the nape of her neck.

When she was done, she stepped back. Subdued? Serene? She wondered. That was the effect she wanted. It wasn't to be. Her cheeks were very red with color, her eyes were a deep and sparkling blue, and despite herself, she felt that she looked as guilty as hell.

"I'm not guilty of anything!" she reminded herself out loud. "They've taken my sister…"

That thought was sobering. Where was Kristin now? Had they stopped to rest yet? They were heading for Kansas, she was certain. Surely they would keep her safe—until they had Cole. And Cole was no fool. When he heard that they had Kristin, he would take care, of course he would…

Her eyes gazed back at her, very wide and misty now. She blinked and stiffened. She needed to find strength. She couldn't possibly sit around and wait. She had to do something to bring Kristin home again.

There…not too bad. She folded her hands before her, and a mature young woman with wise blue eyes and a slender face and soft wisps of blond hair curling around her face gazed back at her. A serene young woman, soft and feminine—with no more hay protruding from the bodice of her elegant dinner gown. She was ready.

Shannon started to run swiftly down the stairs, then she realized that Malachi was standing at the foot of them, waiting for her. She quickly slowed her pace, and her lashes swept low over her eyes as she tried to gaze at him covertly. He had that twisted grin of his again, that cocky, knowing grin.

"Miss McCahy, I was waiting to see if you were joining me for supper. We're all set, and all alone, so it seems. Delilah has gone out back to wait for Samson."

She had come to the foot of the stairs. He was very close, watching her face. She swept by him. "Of course, Malachi."

He followed behind her and pulled out her chair. Delilah had already set their dishes on the table. When Shannon sat, Malachi pushed her chair in to the table. He hovered behind her. She wished that he would sit.

He did not. He reached over her, pouring her a glass of burgundy. She look up at him.

"What is dinner without a fine red wine?" he said lightly. Then he gazed at the bottle, and she saw his handsome features grow taut. "I haven't had any in quite some time," he murmured.

Shannon quickly looked away, feeling that she intruded on some intimate emotion. He did not seem to remember that she was there, but if he had, she thought he would not want her watching.

He poured his wine and sat across from her. He sipped it and complimented the fine bouquet. He cut off a large bite of roast beef, and chewed it hungrily and cut another.