"I know it pains you to hear me say it, an' I'm sorry, Lilli, but I'd rather have you end an old maid than hitched to that Apach' half-"

"Joss, please!"

He stopped when I turned my face away, but he didn't have to finish. I knew what he thought of Ranse, and he was right, it hurt me to hear him speak so. My only kin a near stranger to me, but his opinion mattered as if we'd never been apart a single day. Why did he dislike Ranse so much? If he only knew – Icy realization hit me right then. No one could know about how we got here, and what had happened along the way, not even Joss. Maybe his not knowing is what gave him such a dim view of Ranse.

Pulling my shawl a little tighter around me, I looked up into eyes so much like Pa's that suddenly I smiled, grabbing his hand. Pulling Joss to the bed I lay down and dragged him down next to me.

"Lilli, what are you doin'?" he protested. "This ain't fittin'! You're a growed woman now!"

"And you're my brother, not a strange man," I retorted. "Tell me the story, Joss, tell me the story and you can go."

Stopping, he looked at me, his brow furrowed for a long moment.

"You know it better'n I do, Lilli, an' it was a long time ago."

"So, tell me anyway."

"What do you wanna hear about Pa's proposal to Ma fer anyhow?"

"Because it's where we come from, Joss, and we should never ever forget that. Now tell me the story, from the beginning."

"What are you eight?" Digging my nails into his forearm in retaliation for his critical tone made him gasp, yanking free.

"No, I'm eighteen! If you don't start talkin' I'ma gonna whip you good, an' I fight to win, Josiah Stone!"

Grinning at me, he settled back, folding his arms behind his head on the pillow. We both stared up at the ceiling. His voice was wistful and smooth, with a depth to it just like Pa had and I closed my eyes. Images built in my mind as Joss spoke, hearing Ma's laugh as she accepted a man she'd only known for eleven days. I fell asleep to her laughter in my mind.

Waking slowly to the morning sun streaming in through my window, blinking, I rolled over to glance outside. The sky was a clear deep blue with no clouds, a beautiful day. Sitting up I swung my feet to the floor and then noticed the silence, and looked toward my door. It was open, the front room quiet. I didn't have to get up to see, I knew it already. Burton Mead was gone, and he'd taken Joss with him.

A small white piece of torn paper was on the table under the coffee pot and I picked it up. The writing was stiff, as through the writer struggled with each letter. Its message was brief.

Lilli,

We rekond to leeve rit off rather than wait for a long gudby. I'll writ wen I can, but don't ekspect much. I ain't gud with a pen and paper, and have littl yus for the lik. I'll cum wen I can.

Joss

Wiping tears from my eyes, I went to get dressed.

A company of nine men come into the valley the following day, and they kept me hopping. Good-natured and friendly, they were a hungry crew, packing away food like I'd never seen before. They had come a long way, from up in the high country, and were making their way down to Louisiana. Mining they said. I knew nothing of such things but let them talk, hearing much of the goings on around me. Nothing of real interest was said until one dropped a name that stopped me cold.

"I tell you it was him, I seen him with my own eyes!" an older man with a thin, drawn face was speaking earnestly at the fire one night.

"He's been in Indian country for the last year, everyone knows that!" protested his companion easily.

"I tell you it was Eli Ransom, an' he was on the trail of somebody, I could see it in his eyes!"

The coffee pot nearly slipped from my hands as I quickly spun around.

"That half-breed got hisself shot outside Fort Leavenworth nigh on two months ago. You was seein' through a fog of corn whiskey!" This was from a third party.

A few chuckles accompanied the last good-natured remark and no one got upset, though the man's statement was in question. This company had ridden together for a long time, and all knew when it was in friendly teasing.

"I would know that devil's face anywhere!" insisted the first man. "An' I tell you he was on the war path!"

"I got me a friend that was there the night Ransom bought a ticket to boot hill. He says the body was buried that night, he helped scoop dirt." The third man countered.

My knees were shaking, I sat down at the table, quietly listening. They seemed not to notice me.

"I don't care if his head was shot clean off an' was buried in a different grave, I saw him!" for the first time I noted a look of fear on the man's face. "He's a half-breed Devil, an' death ain't nothin' to the likes of him. He's probably got a pact with Satan hisself to come an' go as he pleases!"

"I hear he was down south, joined up as scout for the army in the war with Mexico. He was under General Winfield Scott last I knew."

"No better'n an Apache that one," spat the second man. "He may walk in the white man's world, but he's a red Devil through an' through."

I thought I would explode as I came out of my chair, the sudden scraping of the legs startling them. As one man they rose to their feet as I took a step forward.

"I'll have to ask you gentlemen to mind your conversation topics, I do not approve of biased talk, nor of abusing a man because he wears a different color skin! If you cannot abide by these requests, please feel free to sleep outside, the weather is quite fine enough!"

In the sudden, deep silence, we all looked up as we heard the rain begin hitting the roof in a sudden mountain shower. I looked back at every man there, briefly locking eyes with each one.

"As I said, the weather is fine for sleeping outside."

They were silent as I went to my bedroom and closed the door behind me. When they started talking again, it was of trail conditions and possible Indian threat.

Lying with my face against the softness of my pillow, I stared unblinking into the darkness of my room. My thoughts turned to the man who carried such darkness with him, and I smiled into the shadows at the memory of the bottomless black of his eyes. 'Ranse, where are you', I wondered silently, 'what did you do in the vast wilds of this untamed country alone? Were you alone? Do you ever think of me'?

Several weeks later I was hurrying back to the cabin from the stable a flicker of movement caught my eye. My rifle swung up, ready. I met the dark eyes of the Blackfoot warrior who'd said he'd come back. Wary, he stepped slowly from the brush. Though he moved carefully I doubted it was because he feared me, and kept my grip on the rifle, finger near the trigger.

Warily holding my ground, I let him approach, wishing he'd say his piece already. My leg ached in the crisp autumn air.

"What do you want?" I lifted my voice loud enough for the others to hear as I was sure he had not come alone.

If they had been watching, they'd know I was alone at present. Last year, I had spent nearly two months on my own before someone came through in a storm break. Winter was coming, and the air snapped with cold, frost everywhere, even at midday.

"I say I come back, Red Hair say I welcome to eat," he answered matter-of-factly, but I was suspicious.

"Where are your brothers? Do they wait in the cold while you enjoy a fine meal?" my breath misted from my lips with each word.

A smile flickered across his eyes at my defiant voice and he called out. Like ghosts seven braves rose from various positions around the yard, and three of them had rifles. I felt my heart skip a beat but kept a calm appearance. In this day it was rare for an Indian to have a gun unless he'd killed to get it.

"If you will tell them to leave their weapons outside, they are more than welcome at my table, this time."

"Why we give up white man's guns?" he challenged me and I lifted the Colt rifle in my hands, pointing it directly at him.

"Because you sneak in unannounced and armed, as though you would try to take what is mine." I answered firmly.

He regarded me for a moment and I got the feeling he was toying with me. There was no reason to harm me, but it was possible he only wanted to see how I would handle myself under pressure.

"Red Hair brave and speaks with no fear," he told me. "We offer peace with white woman,"

Though it was what I wanted, Ranse had told me not to fall for that. Some Indians were slicker than greased pigs, and wouldn't hesitate to take any and all advantages. I figured there were some in every culture.

"At what cost? What do you want in return for peace?"

It surprised him that I would ask, as if he thought me ignorant of his tricks, even if he was sincere. Studying me carefully now, looping around where I stood, forced me to move in a circle to keep the barrel trained on him.

"Food, two rifles, five horses, and we leave Red Hair in peace." He said finally.

Now, I knew they were well aware of exactly what I had on hand. I shook my head.

"No. I have but one horse, and I will not part with her, she was a gift. I have no weapons to give you, and would not do so. Food I have for myself, though I am willing to share a meal with you and your brothers, this one night. Beyond that, I will not do. If you try to take what is mine, I will kill you. I will fall by your brother's hands, but you," I looked directly into his eyes. "You will already be dead."

His expression darkened a little at that, but he was intrigued, now curious about me. I could tell another thought was taking shape in his mind, as any woman can when a man looks too long. A shiver of dread climbed up my spine. That's not what I wanted!

"Pe-na-koam would honor Red Hair, make her his woman, to bear his sons. Red Hair is fit for a warrior."

His blunt words caught me flat-footed and unprepared. What was it with the men in country! Did they not have enough decent women around to teach them to be subtle? Or was it just that life was difficult, and subtly wasted time? Confused, mouth dry, I stared mutely at him.

"When Red Hair my woman, always have peace with my people, always safe." Grinning suddenly, he stepped forward, grabbing the barrel of my gun to yank it away.

Terror rippled through me but I stood my ground. He was close enough I could smell the oils he used on his skin and hair, almost tasting the thick animal hides he wore against the cold. We had a silent struggle over control of the rifle.

"Pe-na-koam makes me a fine offer," I started, working hard to put my tongue around his name, "but I am not free to take another man. I...I belong to someone else."

The warrior's eyes showed doubt as he scowled at me.

"You have man, where is he? Why Red Hair always alone here?"

"My husband is an important man, a great warrior. Often he is called away by our people, but he trusts me to stay here, to care for his home while he is gone. He will be angry if I am harmed while he is away." Once I had the idea I ran with it.

"Who is Red Hair's man?" Pe-na-koam demanded, seeming suspicious of my claim. I don't know what I would have said at that moment, or what the consequences would have been, but I was spared the decision.

A clear hail echoed across the clearing from not more than one hundred yards away. We all turned to see a man step warily from the trees, rifle in hand. It was pointed at one of the braves with a gun. The distance was too far to see who it was and I didn't immediately recognize the horses, so grasped at straws.

"You see him there," I pointed. "He does not like your brothers here, threatening his woman and his home. You need to leave, or put down your weapons. My husband will kill without mercy."

"You alright?" Smoked whiskey drifted to me as he got closer and I felt a rush of warm relief.

"Sweetheart, Pe-na-koam and his braves were just leaving. They wanted a meal, but we don't have enough in the house for so many right now. I've told them they can come back another time."

At my intimate tone Cooper Todd looked sharply at me but didn't bat an eye. A fighter from the open plains, an experienced warrior of many battles, he'd dealt with his fair share of natives.

"Pe-na-koam is it?" He directed his gray eyes to the one at my side. "Kindly give my wife back her gun, and unless you're in desperate need of food, clear out." He said it so congenially that it took a moment to realize they'd been ordered to leave.

Pe-na-koam turned to look at me as Cooper warily continued his approach.

"This man your husband? You his woman?" It was clear he was doubtful.

I looked right into those gray eyes of Cooper Todd's and didn't blush.

"Yes."

"You still want peace?" he let go of the repeater rifle with a grim smile. I returned the smile warmly, hoping to reach a truce.

"Yes, I want peace with your people."

He nodded and turning, disappeared into the trees behind the corral. When I looked, all the others had likewise vanished. I turned back to watch Todd lower his rifle and approach me, a cautious grin on his face.

"Well honey, I'm home," he said softly, and I reddened furiously.

"I'm so sorry about that..." Stuttering to a stop, embarrassed at what he must think of me, I couldn't meet his eyes.

"Any woman in that position woulda done the same," he said kindly. "You need to stop acting like a blushing belle, 'cause you can bet them Indians are watching to make sure you're tellin' the truth."

My head came up, my eyes wide. I hadn't considered that.

"Really? What should we do?"

He tilted his head to look at me for a moment, his eyes smiling though his lips were not.

"A man's been away from his home for a long while, how do you think his woman greets him?"