Moving the horse closer, she held to her charge as she watched the people through the tall windows. They all smiled as if they didn’t have to worry about the weather or where they would eat tomorrow.

Allie could never remember smiling. Not in her entire life. Not in the long-ago time before her people all lay dead. Not when she was traded from tribe to tribe and tied with the dogs each night. Not when she’d finally run away and lived alone. She was not sure she could make her mouth do such a strange thing.

Just as she nudged the horse to move on, she saw him. A man inside by the window. He was all dressed up. His hair, though combed, was warm brown like the man with her, only there was no scar along his cheek. His eyes, his height, his jawline were the same. They had to be kin.

As she watched, the man inside stood and moved toward the door with a tall woman at his arm.

Allie knew this might be her only chance. She slid from the saddle and hoped her stranger could hold on a few minutes without her. Before she had time to change her mind, she darted across the street and climbed up the railing. She reached the steps just as the couple came out.

Without hesitation, she grabbed the man’s arm and pulled him toward the shadows where her horse waited.

He stumbled down a few steps, straightened and looked at her. ‘‘What’s this?’’ He appeared surprised, but not angry. ‘‘Who are you?’’

Allie didn’t answer. Pulling on his arm didn’t seem to budge him. Frustrated, she pointed into the rain. But he couldn’t see the horse or the dying man and she couldn’t find any words to tell him.

‘‘What is it?’’ The man’s voice was kind, not loud and demanding. He had the same low sound in his words as her stranger had. ‘‘Do you need a doctor?’’

Allie pulled again, now panicking that he might turn her over to the Rangers at any moment. After all, she was in a town, the very last place in the world she ever wanted to be. They might leave her stranger in the rain to die while they took her somewhere. She’d heard what folks said about her. She’d heard one say that she belonged in a cage.

Before she could turn and run, the woman stepped from behind the man. She was very tall with a dress and cape of deep blue.

‘‘Help her, Adam,’’ the woman said, her voice laced with understanding. ‘‘Can’t you see she needs you to follow her?’’

Then the woman did the strangest thing Allie had ever seen anyone do. She pulled her long cape from her shoulders and placed it over Allie’s. This lady, all clean and stately, tied her cape closed over Allie’s cold shoulders and stroked her hair back until the hood covered her wild, muddy hair.

‘‘We’ll come,’’ she whispered and smiled, as though giving away her clothing was of no concern. ‘‘My husband is a doctor. He’ll make everything better. But you’re soaked to the bone. You must cover up.’’

They followed Allie without asking any more questions. But when they were still several feet away, the doctor called Adam saw the dying man. Suddenly he was running, shouting orders as if a tornado were aground.

Then the tall woman did another strange thing. She took Allie’s blood-covered hand in her white-gloved hand and motioned with her head for Allie to follow her. Suddenly, they were rushing through the streets.

Allie glanced back. Adam was lowering the dying man to the ground. He had none of the trouble that Allie had had getting people to help. Men stepped forward to carry the wounded stranger and to hold the horse.Everyone seemed to want to help the doctor.

‘‘Hurry!’’ the lady shouted as they ran. ‘‘We have to get home and get everything ready.’’

Allie wanted to pull away. She’d done what she came to do. She’d delivered the stranger to his family. But the woman’s grip was tight around her fingers, pulling her along.

They ran past several houses then crossed through an opening between buildings to another, much quieter street.

The lady let out a long breath as she climbed the back steps to a huge house. ‘‘We’re home.’’ She held the door for Allie.

As Allie crossed into the house, the woman called,‘‘Rose! Adam’s bringing Wes and he’s hurt. We’ll need water and all the supplies ready fast.’’

The lady pulled Allie through the house before Allie had a moment to look around and swung her into a huge chair beside a fireplace.

‘‘Sit and warm yourself,’’ the woman said as she placed a blanket over Allie’s legs. ‘‘I have to get things ready, then we’ll talk.’’ She smiled again. ‘‘I’m Nichole, Adam’s wife, and of course that makes me Wes’s sister-in-law.’’

Her words made little sense to Allie. And what she did next made no sense at all.

The lovely woman leaned forward and kissed Allie on the cheek. ‘‘Thank you,’’ she whispered, tears in her eyes. ‘‘Thank you for bringing Wes to us.’’

Allie touched her cheek and leaned back into the cape as the woman moved away. She thought of all the names she’d been called in the past. Savage, wild, crazy, worthless. But none of them fit her now. This beautiful woman treated her like a treasure. Somehow in the act, Allie had gained value.

The large room came alive like a forest does when one stands perfectly still. The one called Nichole and others passed back and forth carrying water, supplies, and lamps. Allie closed around herself, making herself small inside the folds of the chair. As she’d done all her life, she shut the world out.

Closing her eyes, she let her mind wander to her dreams. In them, she was inside a room like she’d seen tonight. Her clothes were rich and flowing, with warm colors. In the dream, there was music also. Not the clangy music from the bars she’d passed riding through town, or the church music pounded from an organ, but soft music, lighter than air, floating around her. And tables of food, all kinds of food with their rich aromas blending together. And candlelight twinkling like diamonds over fine crystal and shiny table settings.

In her dream world Allie was no longer a ‘‘throwaway woman.’’ She was a treasure. As she’d been for a moment tonight in one person’s eyes.

FOUR

‘‘ISAY WE ALL GRAB HER AT ONCE AND THROW HERin the tub. She’s dirtier than any human I’ve ever come across and most animals.’’

Allie slowly opened her eyes at the sound of a highpitched woman’s voice behind her. The room before her had emptied of most people, so she felt brave enough to look around. The huge space seemed packed with items of all sizes and colors. All the lamps except the one on a desk had been turned down. Fireplace flickers danced off tall windows black with night, making the room seem alive.

She guessed the room to be the doctor’s office, but this place bore little resemblance to the tiny room the Rangers had taken her to that they’d called a doctor’s office.

‘‘You’ll do no such thing, Rose,’’ another answered from behind Allie’s chair, reminding Allie she wasn’t alone. ‘‘She may very well have saved Wes’s life. If she wants to dress in mud, it doesn’t matter to me. We’ll offer her a bath after you see if she wants anything to eat.’’

Allie gripped the cape tighter about her and peered through the small opening. She wished the room were not all in shadows, for she wasn’t sure which were spaces between bookshelves and which were doors.

She couldn’t see the opening where they’d entered hours ago. The man called Adam sat several feet away at his desk. He looked far too interested in the book in his hands to even hear the women’s voices behind Allie.

The wounded stranger, who’d helped her from the cage, lay on a high bed under one set of windows. She could see white wrappings across his ribs and the slow rise and fall of his chest. He was still alive.

‘‘Miss?’’ The high-pitched voice grew closer. ‘‘I’ve cooked you up something in case you’re hungry before your bath.’’

A woman, not much taller than Allie, appeared before the fireplace. She looked a few years older than the one called Nichole. Her cheeks had odd red full moons painted on them and her breasts seemed to form from the top of her shoulders to her waist.

‘‘Rose!’’ the woman called Nichole said softly from somewhere behind Allie. ‘‘Don’t bother our guest. Allow her to eat in peace.’’

Letting the slit in the cape widen slightly, Allie watched a tiny woman move across her line of vision. The painted lady carried a tray loaded down with a week’s supply of food. All kinds of food. Not just meat, or bread, or roots.

‘‘Here you go, sweetie.’’ The woman smiled with dark red lips as she set the tray on a footstool and stepped back. She folded her arms over her ample breasts and waited for Allie to make the next move.

For a moment, all Allie could see was the piece of meat, bread layered in butter, a baked apple still steamy from the oven. From somewhere far in her past came the memory of such foods. Then she saw it-the knife placed beside the plate.

In one lightning lunge, she raised from her coverings, grabbed the weapon, and folded back into the cave of covers.

The woman called Rose jumped back as though someone had punched her. ‘‘Did you see that?’’ she yelled toward the doctor.

‘‘See what?’’ Adam answered without lifting his stare from the book.

Rose pointed toward Allie with a shaking hand. ‘‘She stole the knife!’’

‘‘Then get her another one,’’ Adam answered without giving the matter a glance.

Rose huffed and stormed out of the room. ‘‘Well, I never in all my born days seen…’’ Words trailed after her.

Allie closed her eyes and let the knife turn over in her hand. The food looked good and the room felt wonderfully warm, but nothing compared to the feel of a weapon in her hand. She was no longer defenseless.

‘‘There!’’ Rose appeared in front of Allie once more. ‘‘I brought you another fork, too.’’ She clanked the gift down next to the plate.