Four.

The realization suddenly jarred her from drowsiness. Four will walk the streets of Kantalan. Dominic, Elspeth, herself, and now Patrick. One by one they had been pulled by the invisible threads of circumstance until they were set upon the path to Kantalan. Whites would call it coincidence, White Buffalo had called it destiny. Which was the true view?

The embers of warmth she had been feeling cooled and a shiver ran through her. “Patrick?”

“Yes.” His voice was wide awake. “Do you need something?”

“What would you do if I told you I wasn’t going to let you come with me?”

“I’d follow you.”

The threads tightened, brightened, almost revealing themselves to the naked eye. Destiny.

Patrick spoke again. “Is that all you wanted to know?”

“Yes, that’s all.”

They lay there but did not speak again.

Patrick’s thoughts were on Rising Star.

And Rising Star’s thoughts were on… shadows.

Sleep did not come to either of them for many hours.

19

The town of Rosario, Mexico, baked in the late afternoon heat. Actually, it was more village than town, consisting of several tiny stucco houses, a church, a cantina, and a blacksmith’s lean-to with a corral in the rear. Three brown-skinned women scrubbing clothes in the large chipped fountain in the center of the square stopped their work to watch Elspeth and Dominic ride down the street.

Dominic stopped before the church. “Stay here.” He swung down from his horse. “I’ll go and see if I can arrange for a bath and a place for you to sleep tonight. Father Leon is the only man in Rosario I’d trust to house you in this town.”

Elspeth looked at him in surprise. “You’ve been here before?”

“About four years ago.” He climbed the steps and opened the tall brass-studded door. “Arizona was getting a little too hot for me so I came down here. There’s no law in Rosario.”

“Then why didn’t you stay?”

He looked over his shoulder as he stepped into the dim coolness of the chapel. “I got tired of drinking tequila.” Then he was gone, and she heard the soft jingle of his spurs as he walked down the aisle of the church.

He had been homesick for Killara, Elspeth thought. Who could blame him? Even to her, the green valleys of Killara seemed like paradise after the hot, burning desert country they’d been traveling across for the past two and a half weeks.

She reached for the linen handkerchief tucked into her belt and wiped the back of her neck, thinking longingly of the dimness of the chapel. The fine dust was entering her lungs with every breath and the heat-blurred horizon was wavering before her eyes.

The women at the fountain were still staring at her. Elspeth smiled tentatively, but they did not return her smile. Their round brown faces were stolid, their dark eyes expressing no warmth only curiosity at the foreigner in their midst. She was suddenly acutely conscious of the whiteness of her skin, the fairness of her hair, and the delicate slenderness of her body. She looked quickly away from the women. No wonder Dominic had not stayed here, even though it was safer for him.

“Elspeth.” She looked up to see Dominic coming down the steps. “Father Leon will let you stay at his casa next door to the church. He begs you to forgive him for not coming to greet you, and asks that you come to him. It’s painful for him to walk.”

Elspeth got down from the mare. “Is he ill?”

Dominic shook his head. “Crippled. Before he moved to Rosario he had a brush with the soldiers at a village closer to the border. They thought he knew the hiding place of Indino, a bandit who raided the silver shipments of the great mine owners in the area. They tied the Father down spreadeagled and galloped their horses over him.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “A priest?”

Dominic nodded. “Compared to the soldiers, the bandits are gentlemen born and bred.”

Elspeth felt sick. “How terrible. They could have killed him.”

“Six months later Indino found the colonel who ordered the torture.” Dominic took the reins of the mare. “I’ll take the animals over to the corral for the night. I promised Father Leon I’d join him for dinner, but I have something to do first.”

Torres, thought Elspeth. Every evening before Dominic settled down for the night he would go back and assure himself there was no one following them. “Aren’t you going to stay with Father Leon too?”

He shook his head. “I’ll find a bed over at the cantina.” His lips twisted sardonically. “I’ll feel more comfortable there.” He started to turn away.

“Dominic.”

He paused to look at her.

“What did Indino do to that colonel?”

“I don’t think you’d want to know.” He walked away, leading their horses and burros toward the blacksmith’s corral.

Elspeth watched him for a moment before walking up the steps to the chapel. He was right. Barbarism and hardship confronted her every day; she didn’t need to expose herself to more. Every time she thought she had grown as hard and tough as Dominic, something happened to prove to her how soft and vulnerable she still was.

At least she was no longer physically soft. The first few days of the journey had been agonizing and she had thought she would collapse from sheer exhaustion. It had been a nightmare hiding her weariness from Dominic to prevent him from insisting on doing everything himself as he had that first night on the trail. But as the days had passed, Dominic’s wound had healed and she had found she, too, was becoming stronger. Her muscles were getting more supple, her endurance was increasing. The sun burned her skin in spite of the sombrero Dominic insisted she never be without, but the painful burn went away and her skin turned brown. She thought she looked like a withered hag, but she felt good. The knowledge that she was strong enough to withstand the elements and long hours on the trail, yet still have enough energy to help Dominic filled her with a serene sense of self-worth she had never before experienced.