The Clash Between the Minds

by Nann Dunne

Chapter One

1870—-Missouri

The back door burst open and slammed shut with a thud that shook the house. Even Sarah-Bren Coulter's less-than-perfect hearing couldn't miss it. She set down the loaf of rye bread she was slicing and dusted her hands against her pant legs. Her partner, Faith Pruitt, came charging across the kitchen, waving a folded newspaper. Faith's long, nut-brown dress swayed to her brisk movements and seemed to dance across the random-width pine planks of the floor.

"What's up, redhead?" Sarah said.

"Take a look at this!" Fire flamed in Faith's green eyes. "When will the law do something about these atrocities?" She slapped the newspaper down onto the table, and her red curls bounced around her face and neck as she stepped toward Sarah. She opened her mouth to say more, but Sarah pulled her close and kissed her.

Faith managed to end the kiss before it had barely started. "Sarah, stop it." She tried to wriggle away, but Sarah held her fast and kissed her again.

Sarah stood two inches taller than Faith's five-foot-seven-inch height, but Faith's large-boned frame gave her power that nearly matched Sarah's wiry strength. Holding onto her was a struggle. It didn't help that a laugh kept trying to bubble up from Sarah's belly.

Faith pushed against the long arms that encircled her waist.

"I just want to show you—" Undeterred, Sarah kissed her once more. This time, after a slight hesitation, Faith slipped her arms around Sarah's neck and returned the kiss, her mouth opening to accept the questing tongue.

Sarah's laugh became a moan, and her legs went weak. She dropped into a rush-bottomed chair and pulled Faith onto her lap as the kiss deepened.

Faith slipped a hand under Sarah's amber-colored tunic, which she'd made to match Sarah's eyes. She walked her fingers up warm skin and around a breast. Sarah gasped, and this time she was the one who pulled away. Resting her cheek alongside Faith's, she murmured into her ear, "I think we better slow down. Benjamin will be coming in from the barn any minute now."

"Not quite so soon, I think," Faith said. "Unhooking the wagon and caring for Drummer should take him awhile." But she withdrew her hand and gave Sarah's long, chestnut-brown hair a tug. "I'm not complaining, sweetheart, but why are you so amorous all of a sudden?"

"You came striding across the kitchen all lit up like a woman on a mission. Your eyes sparkled, your hair bounced, and your hips swished." Sarah grinned in remembrance. She warmed all over whenever Faith's long red curls danced about her face and neck. "You looked so beautiful. I just had to pull you to me and absorb some of that passion." She pressed her lips to the rounded dip where Faith's neck and shoulder met, savoring the mild saltiness of her skin and a light scent of lavender. "I love you, Faith Pruitt. I thank God every morning that I wake up and you're beside me."

Faith brushed her hand across the burn scars that marred the right side of Sarah's upper face and forehead, then she buried her fingers in the white blaze that slashed through Sarah's hair. "I love you, too," she said in a voice resonant with emotion.

Sarah raised her head as the door opened a second time. Benjamin came into the house, swinging his schoolbooks from a leather belt buckled around them. His eyes met Sarah's, and she said, "Your mama's pretty excited about something." She pulled on one ear lobe.

"She sure is." Benjamin set his books on a chair. "Ever since we picked up the newspaper." He pulled both his earlobes, bringing Sarah's pent-up laughter to the surface. Just turned fourteen, Benjamin was almost as tall as his mother and still growing. He had inherited Faith's build, but his curly dark hair and large brown eyes were a legacy from his Confederate-soldier father who'd been killed in the war.

Faith looked over her shoulder. "What are you two up to?" Sarah's laugh rumbled through her chest. "Nothing to worry about. We were just practicing our mind reading. Soup's all ready for supper, Benjamin. We'll eat as soon as you wash up."

"I need to wash up, too." Faith lifted Sarah's arms from around her waist and rose. She picked up the newspaper, turned, and tapped it against Sarah's shoulder. "And I'm not going to show you what's in here until after we eat."

When the supper dishes were dried and put away, Faith fetched the paper. She settled on the sofa next to Sarah and waited until Sarah lifted her spectacles from the hardwood side table. The burning coal oil lamp that sat there cast a wide, yellow glow, and a light stream of smoke lifted through its glass chimney toward the exposed-beam ceiling.

Benjamin sat in the oak rocking chair on the other side of the table, studying a schoolbook. When Faith entered the room, he glanced up and appeared to be listening.

"Here's what I was so upset about." Faith held the paper so Sarah could see it as she read the headline aloud, '"Is The Ku Klux Klan Here?' It goes on to tell about several night raids and the damage they've done. Not just to property. They've beaten people and killed some of them. Why don't the authorities stop them?"

"Does it say anything about what's behind the raids?" Sarah said.

Faith's eyes lit up. She often became impassioned about injustices suffered, even by people she didn’t know. "Have you been following the articles about this Ku Klux Klan organization?"

"Not with great diligence. I've read it's a secret group that started in the South right after the war. They wear white hoods and sometimes white robes to disguise themselves. What more do you know about it?"

"At first, they accused colored men of trying to violate the widows of Confederate soldiers. They horsewhipped them and even hung them." Faith refolded the paper, rolled it between her hands, and twisted it. "Now, their hatred and bigotry has spread to include anyone who's different from them in some way. They scare me. They've murdered people just because they didn't like them."

Sarah put her arm around Faith's shoulders. "The world's a difficult place. A lot of groups are up to no good."

"But this group's in our backyard." Faith laid the mangled paper down. She placed her hand on Sarah's thigh and rubbed the coarse pant leg. "Don't you see, Sarah? You and I are different. Some people think we're evil. For all we know, the Klan might attack us."

"No!" Benjamin's book thudded to the floor as he leaped to his feet. "I won't let anyone hurt you, Mama." He curled his hands into fists. "Or Aunt Sarah, either. Why can't people just leave us alone?"

Sarah looked at him intently. "Have you heard anyone talking about us, Benjamin?"

Benjamin's flush showed through his tan complexion. "Some of the boys at school."

"What did they say?" Sarah asked.

Benjamin looked to his mother to the window to the floor.

Sarah stood and walked over to him. She put a finger under his jaw and raised his head until his eyes met hers. "This isn't the time to be embarrassed. We know the words aren't yours. Tell us what you've heard."

"Some say you're strange for wearing trousers. And they say Mama's strange, too, for acting like you're her husband."

"What makes them think your mama acts like I'm her husband?"

Benjamin stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets. "Because of the way she looks at you, I guess. And the way you look at her." He hesitated. "Like you care about each other."

Sarah took a quick glance toward Faith. "And that's a bad thing? To care about someone?"

He pushed up one shoulder. "I told them it isn't. But some of them are really dumb."

Sarah put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. "Thank you for trying to make them understand. But we have to accept that some people never will. Even grown-ups. How about going outside, before it gets real dark, and doing the evening walk-around to check the house?"

"Yes, ma'am." Benjamin looked relieved to leave.

Sarah returned to her seat. She placed her spectacles back on the side table and reached an arm around Faith. "So you think we should be worried?"

Faith snuggled closer and laid her hand on Sarah's waist. "I don't know, but we should at least be aware. You keep your ears open whenever you're in town, and I'll keep mine open at school. Sometimes children hear things at home and gossip about them."

"Who are we hurting, Faith?"

Faith patted Sarah's stomach. "No one, but that doesn't matter to bigots. Anyone who doesn't fit their mold is automatically wrong. We can try to be even more discreet, but I doubt that will make any difference. Let's just hope they leave us alone."

"Maybe we can learn some more about the Klan at the town council meeting next week. Perhaps find out if there are plans to put a stop to any activities around here."

"Good idea." Faith lifted her head, and when Sarah gave her a light kiss, she smiled. "I love that you're so predictable."

"Don't expect me to be so predictable at the council meeting."

Sarah stepped inside Putnam's Market on Saturday morning and heard several thumps and a voice yelling, "I’ll teach you about stealing, you nigger." She hurried past a row of shelves toward the sounds, and when she reached the end of the aisle, she saw Ed Putnam, the shopkeeper, in the same dirty apron he'd probably worn all week. He had a colored man backed into a corner and was beating him with a broom handle. Ed raised the broom to strike the man again, and Sarah stepped forward and grabbed his arm, hard. He swung his head toward her. "Let go of me."

"What's going on, Ed?" she asked.

"You keep out of this, Miss Sarah. It ain't no business of yours." He seized the broom with his other hand, turned back toward the cornered man, and pushed the end of the handle against his chest, preventing his attempt to scoot away.

Sarah tipped her brown slouch hat back with her thumb. "I'm making it my business. I'm not standing here and watching you beat this man. What's he done?" She released her hold on Putnam's arm and took a closer look at the colored man. His skin was as dark brown as the rich earth of Faith's vegetable garden. Half a head taller than his attacker, he was large-boned but too thin for his build, almost scrawny. A neatly patched jacket hung loosely from his broad shoulders. When his eyes met Sarah's, his face showed a hint of pain, and curiously, he seemed embarrassed.

Ed Putnam was so angry he sputtered. "D-damn nigger s-stole from me." He banged the broom handle against the side of the man's jacket. "His pockets are stuffed with food."

"Just food?" Sarah's eyes narrowed as she mulled over the situation. The man hadn't stolen money or dry goods. She looked fully at him. "If I pay for your food, would you be willing to come to my home and work off the cost?"

The man stood straighter, and hope flickered in his eyes. "Yes, ma'am, I surely would." Even those few words, spoken clearly, indicated to Sarah that he had some education. Perhaps he'd been a house servant. She reached into her left pants pocket, jingled some change, and pulled out a handful. "Is that all right with you, Ed?"

Ed gave a short nod and shoved the handle harder into the man's chest. "He snitched two rolls and a chunk of cheese. That be ten cents."

Sarah counted the proper amount and handed it over, then she reached out and pushed the broom handle toward the floor. "Stay with me," she said to the colored man. "I have a few things to pick up here, then we'll head home. What's your name?"

"Noah. And I thanks you, ma'am." Noah picked up his wide-brimmed black hat from the floor and straightened out the felt top. He brushed a hand across it and slowly lifted the hat onto his head. Sarah walked along the aisle, and he fell in behind her.

Ed shook the broom toward them. "You come in here stealing again, and I'll blow your head off, nigger."

Sarah stopped so fast that Noah almost bumped into her. She looked at Ed. "I need groceries and feed and seed. You want to sell me some or stand around ranting all day?"

Ed set the broom in the corner. He hurried past them, grumbling, and Sarah was amused. She figured a sale was more important to him than being angry was. She made her purchases, and Noah helped carry them out to her wagon. They loaded the bags in the back, then Noah put a foot on the wheel hub and a hand on the lip of the wagon side.

"What are you doing?" Sarah settled onto the seat and untied the reins from the brake pole.

"Climbing in, ma'am."

"There's room up front with me." Sarah pointed to a spot at her side.

"I can't do that, ma'am. It ain't fittin'."

"This is my wagon and I'll decide what's fitting."

Noah looked around and hunched his shoulders. "Could be dangerous, ma'am."

Sarah considered that idea. "We're in Missouri, not the deep South. The state sent more Union than Confederate soldiers to the war. Stop arguing, and sit up front."

Sarah glanced toward the store and saw Putnam standing at the door with a surly look on his face. It was no secret that he'd been a Confederate sympathizer.

Noah took a deep breath as though to speak again, but he blew it out and climbed into the front seat. "You want me to drive, ma'am?"

"No, I'll drive." Sarah jiggled the reins and started Drummer toward home. "My name's Sarah-Bren Coulter, and my home's just outside of town." She glanced toward Noah. "We're about ready to start a fall planting of alfalfa. We're only planting a few acres, just for our own needs. Could you give me a day of plowing in return for the bread and cheese?"

"I'll surely try, ma'am."

Drummer plodded on without urging. The right side of the dirt road was mostly flatland with a stand of trees here and there, but the other side was thickly forested.

"Try?" Sarah eyed Noah more closely. He was thin, almost gaunt. His dusty clothes were fashioned for a heavier man. "Are you all right?"

"I got hurt a spell back." Then he quickly said, "But I's gettin' stronger."

Sarah kept looking at him, and he said, "Tell the truth, ma'am, I maybe can't plow yet. But I can sow seed or do most any kind of light work. I just need the chance."

"Is that why you stole the food? Because you haven't been able to work?"

"We ain't had nothing for two days. Man can't let his family starve."

Sarah yanked on the reins, and Drummer halted. She spoke to Noah with some asperity. "Family? What family? Where are they?"

"They-they's in the woods. My woman and boy."

"Near here?"

"You been headin' toward where I left them." He pointed. "Down that way a piece."

"Go get them. I'll take you all home with me and give you some dinner. We have more than enough to go around." Noah looked hesitant, and she touched his arm. "You can work off their share, too. Now go."

He climbed out of the wagon and looked up at Sarah. "You trustin' me? I might just run off with the food you paid for."

Sarah wrapped the reins around the brake pole. "If you come back, I'll know I was right to trust you. And if you don't, I'll be happy I didn't take someone into my home that I couldn't trust."

Noah's face turned very solemn. "I'll be back, ma'am."

One side of Sarah's lips curved upward. "I'll be waiting." She watched Noah hurry into the woods. He held his elbows tight to his sides and leaned slightly forward. He's in pain, she thought.

Still hurting from his injury, whatever it was. Sarah suspected Faith would pull every little detail about it from him. Not many people could match her for getting to the bottom of any situation. Maybe she could find some medicine to help him.

Noah reappeared from the woods with his hand resting on the shoulder of a boy not quite Benjamin's size. To their right walked a woman whose ankle-length dark gray dress outlined a shapely body. A bulging burlap sack hung from a rope looped over her shoulder. Her long, black, tightly curled hair was tied back with a multicolored scarf, leaving some tendrils loose around her face. Skin several shades lighter than Noah's spread flawlessly across high cheekbones, wide, clearly defined lips, and a broad, well-proportioned nose. Long, curved lashes framed her deep brown eyes.

Sarah enjoyed the warmth that spread through her. My God, she's beautiful. I'll have to draw her picture. Mesmerized, she stumbled when she stepped down from the wagon. She grabbed the side board to keep from falling.

The three stopped walking, and Noah spoke. "Miss Sarah, this is my woman, Velia, and our boy, Daniel." He gave Daniel's shoulder a shake. "Take your hat off, boy." He looked back to Sarah. "I told them what happened. And about dinner."

"I'm pleased you're joining us," Sarah said and offered her hand. Velia hesitated, then stepped forward, looked Sarah in the eye, and shook her hand. The top of her head came even with Sarah's chin.

"Thank you, ma'am. I's beholden to you for helpin' us." She spoke in a soft, husky contralto. "I's thinkin' I can plow if need be. Or cook. I cooked for Massa Brent's family. And Daniel's good with horses."

"We'll figure something out," Sarah said. She looked toward the boy. "Hello, Daniel."

Daniel's eyes were as big as black walnuts, and he held his hat tight against his chest. His red plaid shirt had neat patches like Noah's jacket. "Ma'am? Is you a woman?"

Noah let go of Daniel's shoulder and cuffed him on the arm. 'Hush, boy. Ain't your business."

"No offense, Noah." Sarah removed her slouch hat and tugged on her hair. "Yes, I'm a woman." Daniel's eyes shifted to the side of her face, so she ran her fingers over the indentation on her forehead and the scars that spread next to the white shock of hair. "I was wounded, fighting in the war."

"You was in the war?" Daniel's head tilted. "Ain't no women soldiers." He pronounced it so-jers, typical of the deep South.

"Daniel." Velia took a step toward him. "Show respect."

"But there were, Daniel," Sarah said. "Both sides had women soldiers who pretended to be men. I was Union." She looked to Velia. "Don't worry. I have a boy about his age. Can't keep him quiet either. Let's get in the wagon and go home, and you can meet my family."

"You have a husband and children?" Velia asked.

"No husband. I live with another woman and her son. They're my family." Noah and Velia exchanged glances, but neither said anything. Sarah clamped her hat back on, climbed into the wagon seat, and untied the reins.

Noah looked up at her. "Miss Sarah, can Velia sit with you? Daniel and I can hop in the back." Daniel put his hat back on.

"That's fine with me." They took their places, and Sarah steered Drummer down the road.

She sneaked a peek at Velia. I can't wait to see Faith's face when she meets Velia. Just looking at this woman is a pleasure. And she cooks, too. Maybe they can stay with us for a while. This could be a lucky day for all of us.

Sarah guided the wagon into the barn, and everyone climbed out. Noah handed Daniel one of the smaller bags of seed from the wagonload, and Sarah noticed that he grimaced as he hauled out a larger one. She pulled one out, too, and set it on a shelf. As Noah set his bag next to hers, he said, "We can do the unloadin', ma'am. That's man's work."

Sarah was already lifting another one. She shifted it to her right shoulder. "Noah, I appreciate your offers of help, but I'm so used to doing the man's work around here that I just go ahead and do it." Noah and Daniel unloaded the last two bags and toted them toward the shelf.

"No," Sarah said. "Bring those two into the house." She dusted her hands on her pant legs and was amused when Daniel did the same. Sarah noted that despite Noah's consideration in unloading the wagon, he didn't offer to carry the burlap bag that hung over Velia's shoulder.

They followed Sarah into the empty kitchen, and she called, "Faith, Benjamin, we have company." She pointed to the counter between the stove and the icebox. "Put the bags there for now. And you can hang your hats on this rack." She took hers off and hung it on one of the pegs that poked out of a plank fastened to the wall by the door.

A clatter of footsteps descended the stairs, and Faith entered through the hall doorway. Two seconds later, Benjamin came in behind her. Sarah delayed the introductions a moment. Faith's gaze took in their visitors, and Sarah grinned inwardly at the faint softening in her expression when her eyes lit on Velia.

"Faith, Benjamin, this is Noah, Velia, and their boy, Daniel." Addressing the three newcomers, she purposely responded in Noah's previous words. "This is my woman, Faith, and our boy, Benjamin." If they're going to stay here at our home as I hope, she thought, they might as well understand our situation.

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am," Noah said.

Faith's gaze returned to Noah. "I'm pleased to meet you, too. Won't you all sit down? I just made fresh coffee." She gathered cups, saucers, and spoons and added them to those already on the table.

"They'll be joining us for dinner, too," Sarah said.

"I can help with the fixins," Velia said.

"No need," Sarah said. "We just set out the food and help ourselves. Put your bag in the corner and take a seat." She pulled out a chair and gestured toward it. With a pleased look, Velia put down the bag and sat in the offered chair.

Sarah took a handful of beef jerky from ajar and gave the Pieces to Benjamin and Daniel. "You boys can unhitch the wagon and take care of Drummer. By then, it will be dinnertime." After they left, Sarah joined the others at the table and wrapped her hands around the cup of coffee Faith had just poured.

"Noah and Velia have offered to trade their services for some food," Sarah said. "I had hoped Noah could help with the alfalfa planting, but he's suffered an injury, and he's not up to that just yet. Do you have any ideas?"

"How long can you stay?" Faith asked. Noah looked toward Velia, who answered.

"As long as you can use us, ma'am." She lifted her chin. "Noah and me has done a lot around a farm, and I cook pretty good."

Faith became more animated. "Wonderful! Something always needs fixing, so I'm sure we can find work for you, Noah. And we could certainly use some help with the cooking. We all share the chores, after a fashion. But Benjamin goes to school, and Sarah and I are both employed, so any help would be welcome."

"Yes, it would," Sarah said. "And we'll pay for what you do. I figure fixing the broken porch rail will settle up for the rolls and cheese." She saw Faith's questioning look. "That's how Noah and I met," she said. "He needed some rolls and cheese for his family, and I loaned him the money."

Noah spoke hurriedly. "You both work for hire, ma'am?"

"Noah, Velia," Sarah said, "let's get something straight. You're free people now, and you're just as good as the rest of us. So no more, 'ma'am,' with every other breath. And as long as you're going to be around for a while, I'm just Sarah, and Faith is just Faith. You understand that?"

They gazed at each other. "Ma'am," Noah said, "we ain't goin' to feel good about that. We been sayin' 'Miss' to women, white and colored, since we was born. Hard to stop now."

"All right," Sarah said. "Say whatever makes you comfortable. And yes, we work for hire. I write and illustrate books here at home, and Faith teaches at the school."

"Can you teach us to read?" Velia asked Faith in an eager tone. Then she looked contrite. "I's sorry, ma'am, for being so forward."

"I'd love to teach you to read. But first things first. Let's get you settled." She looked to Sarah. "Noah and Velia could have Leah's old room in the main house, and Daniel could have Amy's until we get time to open the north wing for them."

"Perfect," Sarah said. "I'll show you the way, and you can clean up for dinner. The boys should be coming in any minute now. I know I'm about to starve, and I'm sure everyone else is, too." She stood and Noah jumped up also. Velia rose and picked up some of the cups and saucers.

Faith joined in clearing the rest of the table, and the two women put the dishes and spoons in the sink. "I'll wash them up," Faith said to Velia. "You go along with Sarah."

"Miss Sarah," Noah said, "you needn't put us up in your home. We been livin' in barns for months. We got used to rough quarters."

"Well," Sarah said, "it's time to get used to some soft quarters. Although Leah's room might seem a little too frilly for you, it's plenty comfortable." She reached down and picked up Velia's bag. "Come along now."

Sarah led them into the main wing and up the stairs. Velia said something, and Sarah called back to her as they continued climbing. "You'll need to speak up, Velia. When I got wounded, my hearing was damaged, too. What did you say?"

"You said the room belonged to Miss Leah. Is she away visitin' somewhere? We don't want to be puttin' her out."

They reached the top of the stairs and continued down the hallway. "Leah's a very close friend of ours who lived with us for a while. Two years ago, she married another very close friend, Phillip Showell. They live in town. If you stay here long enough, I'm sure you'll meet them. We keep their rooms ready in case they stay overnight." Sarah gestured to the door on the right. "That was her daughter Amy's room. Daniel can use it for now. This is a big house, and if you bide awhile, we'll get some other rooms ready for you later." She opened the opposite door and walked in. "Here's where you and Noah can stay."

"It's beautiful." Velia walked to the center of the room, spread her arms, and turned in a circle, taking it all in. "Pink and white roses on the bedspread, on the curtains, and even on the vanity. I never had anythin' so—" She stopped moving and put a hand to her throat. Noah stepped forward and slipped an arm around her waist. Neither of them could speak.

Sarah dumped Velia's bag onto the bed and walked to a stand in the corner of the room. "Here's a pitcher and basin where you can wash up. The water's been sitting here awhile, but it's clean. You'll find soap and towels and washcloths in these drawers." Velia tried to say something, but Sarah waved her off. "Look things over if you want. But don't forget it's dinnertime. Come to the kitchen as soon as you're ready."

She went out the door and on down the steps, mulling over the morning's events.

Treating people like inferior beings would never happen in her home, Sarah vowed. A man's heart, or a woman's heart, meant more to her than a difference in skin color ever would. The worst deeds against her—the violation of her body and the wounds on her face—had been carried out by white scum.

Sarah's heart lurched at the memory. Her daughter Jessie had been born of that unholy union. Sarah had accepted the offer from her sister-in-law, Lindsay, and Sarah's twin brother, Scott, to raise Jessie as their own. Sarah's soul would be forever scarred, even worse than her face. Those scars would never disappear, but perhaps, over time, their ugliness would dim.

She thought now of Leah, who had come to her rescue during that terrible time, even though her own circumstances were far from ideal. Sarah, in turn, had rescued Leah from a brothel. Who could have guessed that Leah would wind up happily married to Phillip Showell, Sarah's childhood friend and admirer?

And Sarah had Faith. Once in a while, life handed you good fortune. Sarah vowed to pass some on to Noah's family.

After they had eaten, Sarah and Noah headed to the barn behind the house. "We just have the two horses," Sarah said as they entered. She walked through and opened the back door of the barn, unhooked the stall gates, and shooed Redfire and Drummer into the corral. "We muck the stalls twice a week, Wednesday and Saturday. Benjamin usually helps, but with you here, I thought I'd give him some free time." She handed Noah a shovel and grabbed a rake. She pulled a small amount of the mixture of straw and manure into a pile and indicated Noah should shovel it up.

He got the shovel under the mixture, but when he tried to lift it, he cried out. Startled, Sarah stopped raking. "Hold on a minute, Noah." She pushed him toward a bale of hay and sat him on it. "Wait right here." Sarah hurried toward the house and entered the back door. Faith had finished washing the dinner dishes, and Velia was drying them.

"Faith," Sarah said, "grab some morphine packets and the salve and come with me." Faith took one look at Sarah's face, went to a cupboard, and opened its door. She collected several packets from one jar and lifted another, while Sarah got a pint of whiskey from under the counter. Velia hadn't said a word. She just kept drying dishes.

As they walked toward the barn, Faith said, "Is it one of the horses?"

"It's Noah. He's having a hard time shoveling. I think he's been beaten, maybe whipped."

"How awful." Faith stopped for a moment with an anguished look on her face.

Sarah handed the whiskey to her and said, "I'm not going in with you. I think he's embarrassed about whatever it is. But you have a way with people, and I'm pretty sure you can talk him into letting you treat his wounds."

"I'll give it a try. Let me have your pocketknife. I might need it."

Faith continued to the barn and found Noah sitting on a bale of hay, his lips pressed together in a grimace. "Noah, Sarah said you're in pain. She asked me to help you."

"I's all right, Miss Faith. Just need to catch my breath."

Faith set the whiskey and the jar of salve on the bale. She removed the morphine packets and knife from the pocket in her skirt and laid them down, too. "I suspect it's more than that, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Please let me help you. I know how to do it. I tended to Sarah once when she was wounded."

A flicker of interest showed through the pain on Noah's face.

"You did?"

"I did. And if you'll show me where you're hurt, I'll tell you all about it."

Apparently, curiosity won him over. "It's my back, ma'am."

Faith sat behind him on the bale and pulled out the tail of his shirt before he had a chance to object. "Let me look." She sucked in a breath. Noah's back was crisscrossed with whiplashes. "You've had a bad beating. Some of these stripes are infected. Please take off your shirt, so I can treat them properly."

"Ma'am, I—"

Faith put on her sternest schoolmarm face. "I mean to help, whether you want me to or not. Now take off your shirt." Was that the hint of a grin she saw on his face?

"You sound like my mama." He undid the buttons, and Faith helped him slip his arms out. He kept hold of the shirt and twisted it in his hands.

"Sit still a minute. I'm going to need water." Faith grabbed a basin and several clean cloths from the counter in the tack area and went outside to get water from the yard pump. She returned, sat behind Noah, and carefully washed his back.

She lifted the pocketknife. "I'm going to have to open the infected spots, clean them out, and put morphine in them. It's going to hurt, but it's the best way to give them a chance to heal." Now's the time to tell him Sarah's story and keep his mind off the pain.

"When Benjamin was eight years old, he saw Sarah in our yard, slumped over on Redfire. She'd been shot in the lower part of her leg and was almost unconscious." Faith sliced open the pockets of infection and gently washed them out with the water. "She was wearing a false beard, and we thought she was a man. Benjamin ran for the doctor, who cleaned out and bandaged Sarah's wound and set the bone that the bullet had broken. We brought her into the house and laid her on my bed."

Faith lifted the bottle of whiskey. "Sorry, Noah. This is going to burn." Noah's body jerked and then stiffened as she poured whiskey onto the stripes. She made sure that the infected ones received a liberal dowsing. "The doctor wanted to amputate Sarah's leg, but she refused to let him, even though he warned her she would die."

Noah's voice had a rasp in it, and his hands were torturing his shirt. "Miss Sarah's a brave woman."

"Yes, she is." Faith smiled inwardly. And stubborn. She remembered how adamant Sarah was that her leg was not to be cut off. "You're being very brave, too. You and Sarah have a trait in common. You're both prideful people."

Noah's only answer was a loud puff of breath.

"There's nothing wrong with that," Faith said. "In fact, when Sarah isn't on the other side of an argument with me, I admire it."

Noah gave a slight nod.

"Back to Sarah's wound. My father was a doctor, and I recalled him telling me about a doctor friend of his who had used live maggots to clean dead tissue from wounds."

Noah jerked again. "You puttin' worms on my back?" He sounded horrified.

Faith chuckled. "No, your wounds are different. Bren, I mean Sarah, didn't like the idea one bit. I don't think Benjamin did either, but as young as he was, he did what was needed." With a clean cloth, she wiped the excess whiskey that ran down Noah's back. She opened the morphine packets and sprinkled them on the open cuts to lessen the pain. "But Sarah agreed to take the chance, and Benjamin and I collected maggots from the garbage outside."

Faith began to apply salve to the uninfected lashes that still looked red and sore. "And it worked. We were all thrilled and, of course, relieved that Sarah didn't lose her leg."

"That why Miss Sarah favors her left leg?"

"You noticed that?" Faith hadn't seen Sarah limping today.

"When we lifted the bags out of the wagon, Miss Sarah switched a bag from her left shoulder to her right." Noah's voice sounded stronger. "I thought she staggered, but I wasn't sure."

"The bones didn't heal well, and sometimes it bothers her." The splinted leg had been broken again when the Union soldiers dragged her away, but Noah didn't need to know about that. Faith's heart wrenched. She got a sick feeling in her stomach whenever she thought of the ordeal Sarah had suffered.

Faith patted Noah's shoulder. "That should help. Right now, your back probably feels worse, but it should be a lot better in a day or two. I'll check it again then to make sure the infection's gone. I'm not putting a bandage on. I think air might help the infection dry up more quickly." She assisted Noah in putting his shirt back on.

"Thank you, ma'am. Some feels better already."

"I'm glad to hear that, and you're very welcome." Faith dumped the water from the basin and tossed everything she'd used into it. "Let's go back to the house. You should rest awhile. Benjamin and Daniel can clean up here later."

She helped Noah stand, took his arm to steady his shaky legs, and walked out of the barn with him.

When Sarah got back to the house, Velia had closed the cupboard that Faith left open and was putting the last of the dishes away.

"Velia, what's wrong with Noah? Did someone beat him?"

Velia turned from the cupboard, her face solemn. "That be his to tell, Miss Sarah. Not mine." She stepped into the center of the kitchen and raised her chin. "You have more chores for me?"

Sarah paused, admiring Velia's stance. "How about checking the boys' rooms and making sure they didn't leave anything laying around. Maybe make the beds. I'll be in my workroom."

Sarah sat on the bench at the tilted desk in her workroom and squinted through her spectacles at the drawing she was working on. Several men in blood-covered aprons held a Union soldier down as a doctor prepared to amputate his mangled arm. Time passed as she worked on the drawing.

Faith came in and sat beside her without saying anything. Sarah appreciated that Faith tried to be considerate about not interrupting her train of thought when she was drawing or writing. Sarah smiled inwardly. At least most of the time.

She blew some charcoal dust from the picture. "What's wrong with Noah?"

"You were right. He's been beaten. Badly." Faith's voice sounded harsh, as it did when she held back on her emotions. "I'd like to strangle the men who did that to him. He has at least ten deep stripes on his back. I'm surprised he can even walk."

"Did the salve help?"

"I certainly hope so. I'd hate to wear this odor for nothing." She sniffed at one hand and lifted it to Sarah's nose.

Sarah yanked her head back and made a face. "Ugh."

"Washing didn't even weaken the smell." Faith pulled her hand away. "Some stripes are infected. I opened those up, cleaned them out with whiskey, and sprinkled morphine on them. I spread salve on the rest, and he seemed to move with less pain. But it's going to take awhile for him to heal completely."

"Bastards."

Faith leaned her head on Sarah's shoulder. "He's safe now with us. I'm so glad you brought his family here. You're a good person, my love."

Sarah touched her head to Faith's. "At least in your eyes," she said, "and that's what counts to me."

Sunday morning, Faith and Velia prepared a substantial breakfast of oatmeal, eggs, bacon, and warm bread. While everyone ate, Faith brought up the possibility of enrolling Daniel in her school. "We have room for several more children."

"That sounds good," Sarah said, "but I don't think the school trustees will let that happen. Remember, Lincoln School was built on the other side of town especially for colored children."

"Specially for coloreds?" Noah said.

"Yes. The federal government put up some of the money for it."

"Ain't that good?" Velia asked.

"Only if the schooling is as good as what the white children get." Faith made a face. "And I have doubts that it is. But I'm not sure having a separate school means no colored children can attend ours."

"You're a real optimist, sweetheart." Sarah rose and took her dishes to the counter. She gazed out the window. Dark clouds gathered and gradually dimmed the sunlight. "Looks like rain," she murmured. No wonder her damn leg hurt. It had been throbbing all morning.

"But Daniel could go back and forth to school with Benjamin and me," Faith said. "That would be a lot easier than taking him all the way across town." She directed her gaze to Noah. "It's possible some families might object to their children being in the same classroom with Daniel, but I'd like to try. What do you think?"

Noah swallowed the bite of bacon he'd been chewing and laid the fork on his plate. "Worse things been done to us than bein' told to change schools, but I ain't too sure about this. I don't want Daniel gettin' hurt." He stopped and turned his head toward Daniel. "You might get pushed around. Can you handle that without fightin' about it?"

Daniel's earnest expression left no doubt about his intentions. "I think so."

"I'll be there, too," Benjamin said.

"Velia?" Noah waited as Velia took a moment to answer.

She looked troubled, like she wouldn't agree, but at last, she nodded.

"Good," Faith said. "It's settled then."

"The bell has rung." Faith gave the roomful of children her sternest look. "Take your seats, and come to order." The different grades occupied designated benches in the same room, with the earliest grades closest to the front. Most of them sat, but no one except Benjamin took a seat next to Daniel. What had she expected? They had never shared a classroom with a colored boy, and some of them no doubt carried the same prejudices as their parents. Maybe Faith had been too bold in bringing Daniel to class with her. She had pooh-poohed Sarah's warning and ignored Velia's obvious distress. Well, she thought, no one had ever accused her of being shy.

She believed in facing problems head on and dealing with them. What better way for children to learn tolerance than to present them with a situation that called for it? She wasn't surprised that several of the older boys milled about at the back of the room near the door. "Sit down," she called to them.

"I ain't sitting in a room with no nigger." Hiram Blanton, son of the haberdashery owner, punched the arm of Roscoe Fields, who glared at him. Roscoe's father worked at the mortuary. The two boys, at sixteen, were the oldest and biggest children in the room, and Faith fought a constant battle to keep them from bullying the others.

"Me, neither," Roscoe said. He reached for the doorknob and pulled open the door. "Let's get out of here."

"Rest of you," Hiram said, "better come with us if you know what's good for you. Teacher can't do nothing. My pa will tell her what's what." This was no idle threat. Morton Blanton was head of the Bonneforte Town Council. After previous council meetings, Faith and Sarah had often discussed how stuck in a rut the man was. His ideas, and those of his cronies on the council, seemed to be the only ones that mattered, and any new ideas died for want of sufficient votes. Faith couldn't understand how he'd been elected in the first place. Were people that indifferent to who led them?

Four children followed the two, leaving nine who hadn't been intimidated. She introduced Daniel to the group and began the day's lessons.

Just before noon, the schoolroom door banged open and in walked Morton Blanton. "School's done for the day," he said as he removed his derby. "You children go on home."

"Just a minute, Mr. Blanton." Faith stood near her desk with an open book of Shakespeare's sonnets in her hands. She had been reading to the class.

"Don't you 'just a minute' me! No nigras are allowed in this school. How dare you take it upon yourself to bring one here? Get him out of here, and don't bring him back ever again."

Faith laid the book on her desk and folded her arms. "He has just as much right to an education as a white boy. The war freed the slaves."

Blanton pointed a finger at her. "You know right well that Lincoln School's been built to accommodate them, and the rules set down by the town council say that's where they'll go. According to your contract, you have to follow those rules. If not, you'll be guilty of reneging on your contract. Your work history will carry that black mark with it."

Black mark? The irony of the designation struck Faith, but she couldn't ignore the truth of Mr. Blanton's remarks. Not that she worried about her work history, but she did worry about being a quitter. Finding a replacement for her could take months, and she had made a commitment to teach these children.

She uncrossed her arms. "Very well. I'll take him over to Lincoln and get him settled there. But I'm not happy about it."

"Your happiness or unhappiness isn't an issue. You're lucky to still be teaching here after moving in with that woman who—" He stopped, slapped his hat on his head, and strode out the door.

Faith shivered.

"You were right," Faith said to Sarah that evening as Drummer pulled the wagon toward the middle of town. Oil lamps that hung from poles along the boardwalk were already aglow, but they added little to the waning twilight.

"I'm always right. Ow!" Sarah grunted when Faith punched her arm. She switched the reins to one hand and used the other to rub her muscle. "About what?"

"I shouldn't have exposed Daniel to that fiasco. I tried to explain that people being prejudiced wasn't his fault, but he's seen so much hatred against his family just because of their color, I don't think I made much headway."

Sarah patted Faith's knee. "I understand you had to try. Trouble is, you put too much faith in the goodness of people."

"Most people are good. Misdirected, maybe, but good."

Sarah rubbed a hand over the scars on her face. A picture of her being stripped and staked to the ground leaped to mind before she could repel it. "I've met a few who didn't have a good bone in their body."

Faith frowned. "I wish I could have prevented that. Maybe someday you'll be able to forgive the men who hurt you."

Sarah pulled on the reins to bring Drummer to a stop in front of the Town Hall. "They're dead now, so it doesn't matter anymore." She voiced the words, but every time she thought of the men who had brutalized her, shot her, and left her for dead, she felt pain in her heart and soreness in the pit of her stomach. As Faith said, maybe someday she could forgive them. But not yet. Maybe someday she could accept Jessica as someone she could love. But not yet.

She climbed from the wagon and lifted a hand to help Faith down. "Let's go stir up the council meeting for a change."

They nodded to some acquaintances as they found seats together in the crowded room. Sarah looked around. "More people here than usual."

"Humph." Faith gave a discreet snort. "My little altercation today with Mr. Blanton could be the reason. The news must have spread quickly."

The council members sat at a string of tables pushed together in the front of the room. Morton Blanton rapped a gavel on a round wooden disk that rested on the table he sat at and called the meeting to order. After a reading of the minutes by Secretary James Melvin and a report from Treasurer Shamus McDuff, Blanton introduced the New Business segment. He shuffled a few papers and looked out at the gathering. "Our schoolteacher, Mrs. Pruitt, seemed to misapprehend this council's rules about school attendance. She brought a nigra to school today and set him in among our own youngsters." A murmur swept through the crowd.

Blanton raised a hand to silence them. "I explained to her that Lincoln School was built for nigra children, and the boy had to go there. I believe she took him there this afternoon and got him situated. Is that right, Mrs. Pruitt?"

Faith stood. "I did take Daniel there. Whether it's right could be a matter of debate." Heads swiveled toward her, including Sarah's.

Uh-oh, Sarah thought. Keep calm, redhead.

Faith swung her gaze around, making eye contact with some of the attendees. "Our recent war freed the slaves. Why shouldn't hey attend the regular schools instead of being pushed into Huerior buildings with inferior resources? The system's not fair to them." Another murmur spread through the room, and Blanton banged his gavel.

"If that's the way you feel," he said, "perhaps you should take your ideas to a higher committee where these rules were formed. Our duty is to enforce them. And enforce them we will."

"Why doesn't the council take them to a higher committee?" Faith spread one arm out and moved it to include the whole room. "We have some freed slaves in this town. Where are they? I don't see a single one here. They deserve representation, and the council should see that they get it."

Some faces of the other council members had hardened, and most of the men averted their glances. Not one of them gave Faith's words any support.

Blanton spoke in a condescending tone. "Mrs. Pruitt, no one except the council itself is required to attend this meeting. And if the nigras choose not to come, it's not up to us to chase after them."

Faith pinned him with her gaze. "Would you let them in if they did come?"

Blanton hesitated, and several other members squirmed in their seats. "We'll have to give that some thought."

Faith wasn't about to back down. "I'd like to hear your conclusions at the council's next meeting."

"We'll see." Blanton banged the gavel again, emphasizing his words. "Let's get back to the issue at hand. According to the government rules, nigras aren't allowed to attend the white schools. If you choose to ignore the rules, you'll be required to step down as the schoolteacher." Now the murmur swelled to recognizable words, most of which sounded in favor of Faith's staying.

Faith lifted her chin. "I made a commitment to teach the children, and I'll honor that commitment unless told otherwise by the council."

"Very well, then, the matter's settled." Blanton glanced down at his papers. "Any other new business?"

As Faith sat down, Sarah rose. "I have a question."

Blanton looked up and glowered. "What is it?"

Sarah noted that he had ignored the "Miss Coulter" that would have been the polite address, but she let his arrogance run off her. "The newspaper's been reporting about a group called the Ku Klux Klan. The group's been burning property and even killing people, mostly in the states farther south, but also in some nearby areas."

Blanton's glower was replaced by a sneer. "So what's your point? Just letting us know you can read?" A few snickers died when Sarah flicked an icy stare toward the area they came from.

"I want to know," she said, "whether any provisions are in place to deal with them if they decide to cause harm around here. Other places have been caught unawares. Maybe Sheriff Schmidt should have an extra deputy or two to keep an eye out for them." Sarah saw heads nodding, but no one else spoke up.

Blanton toyed with the gavel. "I hear most of the so-called harm's been directed toward nigras who've attacked widows of fallen soldiers or broken the law in some other way. Maybe we should welcome the Ku Klux Klan and thank them for protecting us."

Sarah's hands balled into fists. "Isn't that the job of the sheriff and the courts?"

Blanton gave a sly smile. "You just suggested yourself that Sheriff Schmidt could use more help. Why not take advantage of free help instead of hiring someone we have to pay?"

Someone in the crowd yelled, "Good idea," and more heads nodded.

Blanton's glower returned. "Maybe people who harbor nigra law-breakers should be worried, but most of us aren't in that situation. Unless the Klan attacks law-abiding citizens, I see no reason to fear them."

"So, welcoming the Ku Klux Klan is your answer?" Sarah said.

"Unless someone else has a better idea than the one you've Proposed." Blanton hesitated, but no one responded. He hit the gavel on the desk. "Next order of business."

Sarah flicked the reins and hurried Drummer at a trot along the rutted road. The oil lamp that hung from a pole on the wagon swayed back and forth, spreading its glow in splotches on their path. Light and dark. Light and dark. The pleasant aroma of new-mown hay hung in the night air.

"So much for suggesting the town be prepared for any trouble," Sarah said.

"I have to admit," Faith said, "I was surprised no one seemed worried. Everyone went along with Blanton like they didn't care."

"How about his remark with regard to harboring nigra lawbreakers? You know he meant us and Noah." Sarah had explained to Faith all the circumstances of her meeting with Noah at the general store.

"Noah didn't really steal anything. You said you paid Ed for what he had in his pockets."

"I doubt Ed Putnam or Morton Blanton would make that distinction. People see what they want to see."

"Do you think we might have trouble because Noah and his family are staying with us?"

"I think we need to consider that possibility."

The women fell silent for the rest of the journey home, accompanied by the creaking of the wagon, the thudding of Drummer's hoofbeats, and the clacking of the oil lamp against the pole.

Chapter Two

The next morning, after breakfast, Sarah asked everyone to remain at the table for a few moments. As she walked past Faith's chair, she trailed her fingers across Faith's back, bringing an up-tilted face and a smile. She left the room and returned with a Spencer repeating rifle and a box of .52 caliber shells. "I want each of you to listen carefully. A group of troublemakers called the Ku Klux Klan might be in this area. It's a secret organization, so we can't be sure whether any of our neighbors belong to it or not."

"We's heard of it," Noah said. Velia took hold of his hand. "They hate the freed slaves. They've whupped some of us, even to death, and hanged others for no real reason."

Faith gasped. "Is that who...?" She touched her fist to her mouth.

"Yes, ma'am." Noah pushed his lips together.

"I'm so sorry, Noah," Faith said.

"Not your doin', ma'am."

Sarah set the box of shells in front of Benjamin. "Hand some of these to me, please. And everyone watch how I do this." She pointed to a two-inch piece of metal sunk into the butt-end of the stock. "This is the extracting handle. You turn it," she said. She moved it counterclockwise and pulled a long cylinder from the stock. "And this is the magazine that holds the shells." As Benjamin handed her the bullets, she loaded seven into the cylinder. She pushed it back into the stock and twisted the extracting handle clockwise, locking it in place.

"Here's how you ready the rifle to fire." She pulled down and forward on the trigger guard, which levered open the rifle breech. "Moving this down will eject the spent cartridge, and closing it loads a new cartridge into the barrel." She closed the breech. "Each time you want to shoot, you have to pull back on the hammer." She went through the motions of cocking the hammer without really doing so, lifted the rifle to her shoulder, and pointed it toward a window. "Aim it and squeeze the trigger. Bam," she said and lowered the rifle. "You can shoot all seven shells without reloading. You just have to work the trigger guard and pull the hammer back each time." She set the rifle in the corner of the kitchen.

"I want everyone to remember that this is loaded and ready to fire. Stay away from it unless you have serious cause to use it. I'll load the one over the mantel, too, and I'll carry one with me on Redfire. If you see anything suspicious, these guns will be handy. Don't be afraid to carry one to the door with you when a stranger comes." She hesitated. "Noah, do you know how to shoot one?"

"Yes, ma'am, we both do. Massa Brent told us not to tell anyone that he let us help him practice his skeet shootin'. We took turns with him, just like a competition. But we used a musket. I ain't never seen a rifle like that one."

Sarah retrieved the weapon. "It's called a repeater. I bought three of them last week. They work pretty much the same as a musket as far as aiming and firing." She pointed to the trigger guard and repeated the directions. "Each time you fire a round, you pull down on this guard. The breech opens up and kicks out the spent cartridge. When you close the trigger guard, a strong spring moves the new shell into place in the barrel, and you can cock the hammer and fire again. Understand?"

Noah and Velia nodded.

"I ain't never learned to shoot," Daniel said. He looked at Benjamin. "Has you?"

"Yep. Aunt Sarah taught me."

Daniel sounded excited as his gaze went to Sarah. "Will you teach me, Miss Sarah? I'm fourteen, old enough to learn."

"If it's all right with your folks." Sarah looked their way, and they both nodded. "Good. Your first lesson will be after school today. Speaking of school, you all best be on your way. I'll hitch up Drummer while you get your things together."

True to her word, Sarah spent two hours everyday for more than two weeks teaching Daniel to shoot. He soon became adept, and he and Benjamin competed against each other. The competition sharpened their skills, until both boys impressed Sarah with their abilities.

On a Wednesday, after school, she took them out to the barn. "How about some horseback riding lessons?"

Daniel clapped his hands and jiggled his body. "Yes! I helped with the farm horses but never rode any." He glanced around. "But they ain't here. They's in the corral."

"First lesson," Sarah said, "is mucking the stalls." She usually did it herself, but earlier this morning she had purposely let it go. During the summer and on Saturdays, Benjamin helped. Today, he groaned, bringing a grin to Sarah's face. "Work first," she said. "Pleasure afterward. Grab the shovels and buckets."

After the boys had cleaned the stalls, she brought Drummer inside and showed Daniel how to saddle him and shorten the stirrups. She whistled and Redfire trotted in next to her. She patted his jaw and rubbed her head against his.

"Saddle Redfire, Benjamin, while I walk Drummer around outside and let Daniel get a feel for riding." She led Drummer through the opening from the barn into the corral and showed Daniel how to mount and slip his feet into the stirrups. Drummer was broader than Redfire and had bigger hooves, better suited to the work around the property. Redfire, a thoroughbred, went through most of the war with Sarah and wound up in Faith's care for a while. Benjamin rode him almost every day and was very attached to him.

Sarah gave Drummer's reins to Daniel. "Hold onto these with one hand," she said. "Not tight, but not loose either. The horse has to know you're in control. Both horses are neck-reined. That means you just lay the rein against their necks in the direction you want them to go and give it a little tug that way." She slipped her hand into the leather halter. "Kick your heels into Drummer's sides, and he'll move for you." She guided the horse around the edge of the corral and had Daniel practice turning him. "Now, you want him to stop. You can use one hand or two, but pull back on both reins, steady and firm."

Drummer stopped and Sarah heard Daniel let out a breath. "Good job, Daniel. I think you can handle Drummer by yourself. Practice a few times around the corral until you feel comfortable."

Benjamin brought out Redfire and mounted him. He and Sarah watched as Daniel got used to riding. "All right, bring Drummer to me," she said. When he stopped in front of her, she patted the horse's neck. "Good boy, Drummer. Daniel, always get on and off a horse from the left side and keep hold of the reins. Watch Benjamin." She made an arm gesture to Benjamin, and he swung his leg over Redfire's hindquarters and dismounted. Daniel mimicked his motions, got down, and handed Drummer's reins to Sarah.

"Now you get to try Redfire."

"No!" Benjamin stepped back and pulled Redfire with him. "Redfire's mine."

Sarah cocked her head and looked at him. "What did you say?"

Benjamin stuck his bottom lip out. "Redfire's mine."

Sarah rubbed her chin. "Funny, I thought Redfire was mine."

"Mama and I saved him."

"Saved him for...?"

Benjamin's shoulders slumped. "For you."

"You get to ride him most of the time, don't you?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Today I'd like to let Daniel see what it's like to ride him. Isn't that fair?"

Daniel spoke up. "I's happy to just ride Drummer, Miss Sarah." His words said one thing, but his expression said something else.

Sarah patted his shoulder. "It's true Benjamin will usually ride Redfire. But I want you to have a chance to ride him, too. To get used to him, just in case."

Benjamin brought Redfire close to Daniel and handed him the reins. "I'm sorry," Benjamin said in a quiet voice.

Without prompting, Daniel walked to the left side and mounted as though he'd been doing it all his life. He leaned forward, rubbed Redfire's neck, and murmured to him. With a kick, he walked Redfire around the corral.

"He's good with horses." Benjamin sounded reluctant, but his words made Sarah smile.

She laid her arm around his shoulders. "So are you. I appreciate your apology. I wasn't trying to be mean to you. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, ma'am. Daniel wanted to ride Redfire, same as I used to. Still do."

Sarah gave his shoulders a squeeze then dropped her arm. "Well, after me, he's yours."

Benjamin hugged his arms close to his chest and looked content.

Each time another article about the Ku Klux Klan appeared, Faith read it aloud in the living room after supper. The latest one spoke of a group burning a cross on a yard in the next town. "This burning of a cross seems to be a sign they've adopted to prove their moral right to attack those they don't like," she said. "As if God would condone such bigotry."

"They's gettin' close." Noah twined and untwined the fingers of his large hands.

"Yes," Sarah said. "Too close."

"We should leave," Velia said. "We don't want to cause you no harm."

Faith rattled the newspaper and spoke firmly. "If anyone causes us harm, it won't be you. You're not responsible for what these hooded criminals are doing."

"Besides," Sarah said, "we'd be in danger even if you weren't here. Some people think Faith and I are breaking God's laws, or their interpretation of them, by living together. Some condemn me for dressing like a man. Either of those might be reason enough to attack us. These are hazardous times for both families."

That seemed to strike everyone dumb. Sarah looked from Velia to Noah to Faith, including the two boys in her glance. "Everyone just stay extra alert."

Early Saturday evening, while it was still light outside, Sarah sat in a soft chair in her office. Rain had pattered on the roof all night. It had stopped earlier, but it left a gloomy day that grew even gloomier as time wore on. Sarah lit the oil lamp on her desk to provide light to see by. Even the inside air had a dank smell.

The dampness made the old injury to her leg throb, and she had the leg resting on an ottoman that Leah had made when she lived there. A folder of papers lay exposed on her lap, and she wrote on one of the papers with a yellow pencil.

A knock at the door interrupted her. Before she could answer, the door flew open and Velia appeared, looking scared. Her voice shook, and her whole body trembled. "Somethin's happened to Noah."

Sarah jumped up and winced as she put weight on her sore leg. The folder slipped to the floor and papers scattered. "Is he hurt?"

"I can't find him. He ain't nowhere." In a daze, Velia bent down to pick up the papers. Sarah touched her arm.

"Leave those. Tell me what happened."

Velia pointed outside. "He was in the barn. He meant to soap the leather, he said. I went to see how he was doin', and he was gone."

The women left the house and hurried toward the barn.

Inside, flat cans of saddle soap and several rags lay tumbled about on the floor. Sarah hobbled to the open door that led into the corral and looked into the distance. Straight out, the land was flat, but to the left the forest ran on for many miles and gradually merged into low rolling mountains. Last night's rain had softened the ground in the corral, and she could see a mixture of footprints leading through the gate and disappearing into the longer grass. She pointed to them. "Someone's taken him toward the woods."

Sarah heard a noise near the wide doors at the front of the barn. A moment later, Benjamin and Daniel came in, leading Drummer and the wagon. Faith had taken the boys into town to do some clothes shopping. Sarah looked at Benjamin. "Did your mama go in the house?"

"Yes, ma'am. What's wrong?"

"Noah's missing." Sarah cringed when she saw the look on Daniel's face. Damn, she could have been more sensitive. "Daniel, unhook Drummer and put him in his stall. Benjamin, saddle Redfire and tie on the rifle scabbard. Velia, come with me."

"But where's my pa?" Daniel said.

"I don't know, but I'll sure find out. Do what I said. I'll be right back." Sarah and Velia went to the house.

"Faith," Sarah said as they entered, "Noah's missing."

Two paper bags sat on the kitchen table. Faith stopped in mid-motion of removing her raincoat. "Missing? Noah?"

"Yes." Sarah lifted a brown lightweight jacket from the rack near the door. "Some tracks going away from the barn show he was taken against his will." She shrugged on the jacket and donned her slouch hat. She picked up her rifle that stood next to the other in the corner of the room and collected a box of shells from a drawer.

Faith finished removing her coat and put a hand to her throat. "You're going after him? Shouldn't we get Sheriff Schmidt to do that?"

"Send Benjamin to get him. I can't wait. Someone needs to get after Noah right away." As she spoke, she checked the rifle load and stepped toward Faith. She leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss.

Faith held her shoulders for a moment. "Be careful, Sarah."

Sarah nodded and moved away. "Velia, I'll be back with Noah as soon as I can."

Velia's teeth were chattering as she whispered, "Thank you, Miss Sarah."

Faith watched from the front door as Sarah rode into the woods. She went back into the house and called from the kitchen, "Benjamin! Daniel! Come here." No one answered and Faith looked at Velia. "Did you see the boys?"

"They was here a minute ago."

"Look upstairs. I'll check outside." Faith went out the back door and called the boys again. Still no answer. She ran to the barn and saw that Drummer was missing. No boys and no horse. Faith gasped. Did they follow Sarah? No, she told herself. Wouldn't she have seen them from the front porch if they had? They sure picked the wrong time to go for a ride.

She hurried back inside. "I can't find the boys anywhere," she said to Velia. "Drummer's gone, so maybe they're out riding around."

"How's we goin' to get the sheriff?"

"Let's wait here. It'll be dark soon. The boys should be back before either of us could walk into town. I know that's not a satisfying answer, but it would take close to two hours to get to town on foot. Sarah will have found the kidnappers long before that." And then what?

"Might Miss Sarah get hurt, too?" Velia spoke the words Faith dare not think.

"Sarah's an excellent shot and she has a repeating rifle. She knows how to take care of herself." But Faith's knees shook so hard she had to sit at the table. "Let's hope she finds them in a hurry." Before they hurt Noah, was what she thought, but she couldn't bring herself to say that to Velia. Faith's words about Sarah being able to take care of herself were true, but she still worried. Sarah was bold enough to endanger herself without a second thought, and certainly she was outnumbered.

"You want some tea, Miss Faith?"

"No, but thank you for asking." Faith felt helpless and agitated. She jumped up and headed for the front door. "Let's sit on the porch. It's cool now that the sun's going down."

The women went outside and sat in the wicker rockers, propelling them to and fro as though their energy could hasten the safe return of their loved ones.

Sarah rode Redfire alongside the footprints into the forest.

In the dim light filtering through the trees, she couldn't see the trail from horseback, so she dismounted and led Redfire by his reins. She had made little headway when she heard a noise behind her. Her body tensed, and she slipped the rifle from its scabbard. She breathed easier when Drummer came into view. Benjamin sat in the saddle, and as he rode closer, Sarah saw Daniel perched behind him, holding on tightly with one arm. Each boy held a Spencer rifle.

"Benjamin, go home," Sarah said in a harsh voice. "This could be dangerous. I don't know what I'm going to find."

Benjamin stopped Drummer, and he and Daniel got down. "We can't do that, Aunt Sarah. We want to help."

"You were supposed to go for the sheriff."

"Mama can take care of that. You taught me it's best that every expedition should have a reserve. We're your reserve."

Sarah couldn't argue with that, but another thought occurred to her. "How's your mama supposed to get the sheriff without Drummer?" Their house was a good four miles from the center of town.

Benjamin glanced toward Daniel. Both boys looked guilty, and they shrugged. "We didn't think of that," Benjamin said.

Sarah's mind flicked to a picture of Faith's stricken face. "Did you even tell your mothers that you were leaving?"

"No'm." Daniel looked as serious as Sarah had ever seen him. "Benjamin saddled Redfire and I saddled Drummer. We hitched Redfire outside the barn, got the rifles and Drummer, and ran into the woods afore you even left. They couldn't stop us, anyways. We mean to save Pa."

She glared at them, then her expression softened. "Let's get moving. We're wasting time."

Benjamin's gaze went to the marks Sarah had been following, then back to Sarah. "Wouldn't it be faster to ride?"

"I tried that, but I can't see the trail from horseback."

"But we can," he said in a firm voice. He and Daniel jumped back on Drummer. "Follow us."

Damn, Sarah thought, I know my eyesight isn't as good as theirs. The misgivings she had about them showing up eased. She sheathed the rifle, mounted Redfire, and followed the boys.

They made good progress. Within fifteen minutes, Benjamin halted Drummer and Sarah moved alongside. He pointed forward. "I hear men's voices."

"Good," Sarah said. "Leave the horses here. We'll sneak up on foot. Follow me, and try not to tread on any fallen twigs. Make sure to hide behind a large tree when we get within eyesight."

They dismounted and Sarah pulled out her rifle. She stepped in front of the boys. "Keep your weapons pointed at the ground, don't speak, and don't shoot unless I tell you to. Understand?" The boys nodded, and with a wave of her hand, Sarah led them forward.

They came upon a grass clearing, softly lit by the waning sun. Sarah's heart clenched at the sight in front of them. Noah knelt with his face against a large maple tree, tied from one hand to the other by a rope around the trunk. A semicircle of hooded figures, wearing what looked like pillowcases on their heads and white sheets around their bodies, stood just on the near side of the tree. One man was tearing Noah's shirt from his body while another man stood ready with a whip.

Sarah grabbed Daniel who had surged forward. "Daniel," she whispered loud enough for both boys to hear, "I want you and Benjamin to each stand behind a tree and aim your rifles in the air. When I signal, shoot into the sky a couple of times. I want the group to think we have several people here. I think we can scare them off." She pushed Daniel behind one tree and made sure Benjamin had gone to another.

Just as the white-garbed man lifted the whip, Sarah signaled the boys and the three of them shot twice into the air. The group seemed stunned at first, then four of them ran off. A moment later, hoofbeats could be heard. Three of the four men remaining shot toward Sarah and the boys. Two had muskets, one a handgun. The man holding the whip, however, raised the whip again, and struck Noah's back with a loud thwack.

"Stop!" Sarah yelled. She stepped to the edge of the clearing with her rifle aimed at the men. "Or we'll shoot." The figure with the whip half turned toward her but raised the whip again. She heard a rifle crack from behind her, and the man crumpled to the ground. Two of the group grabbed his arms, and they all ran farther into the woods, dragging him with them. Sarah waited until she heard horses leaving.

She and the boys ran to Noah. As she cut the rope binding him to the tree, Sarah noted his face looked battered. He fell sideways to the ground, and Daniel put down his rifle and knelt beside him. "Pa," he said, patting the side of Noah's face, "are you all right?" Noah nodded and slowly righted himself.

"A little sore in the back," he said, frowning. "I'm beholden to you, Miss Sarah. I hardly believed it when I heard the shots." Sarah gave him a hand up, and he continued. "I saw that skunk go down. You saved me from a mean whuppin'."

Daniel jumped up, retrieved the rifle, and waved it. "I shot him, Pa."

A mixture of pride and fear crossed Noah's bruised face. "Good."

Sarah grabbed Daniel's shoulder and gave it a shake. "Daniel, no one but us can know it was you. I'm the one who shot the man, all right?"

"But—"

"No 'buts.' If anyone suspects a colored boy shot a white man, you'll be hunted down and killed and no one will lift a hand to stop it. We have to let everyone think it was me."

"Everyone?"

"Everyone. And that includes your mama and Miss Faith. They'd be in trouble, too, if it got out that they knew about it. This has to stay a secret among the four of us." She let go of Daniel and turned to Benjamin. "You got—" She stopped, startled. "What's that on your cheek?"

Benjamin raised his hand and brushed at the blood seeping from the half-inch slice just below his right eye. "A piece of bark hit me. I'm all right."

Realization struck Sarah like a blow to the head. He could have been killed. Daniel could have been killed. What was she thinking, letting them come with her? But the fact remained that the boys deserved credit for getting them there fast enough to save Noah from a severe beating, maybe from being killed. Sarah couldn't have done that by herself.

Benjamin stood there with the same stubborn look that Faith sometimes had. "I don't want to lie to Mama."

Sarah put an arm around his shoulders. "Of course you don't, and I'm not asking you to. You just keep quiet about it. I'll lie for all of us." She let out a sigh. "I don't like to lie to her, either. I never have before." Just thinking about lying to Faith made her feel queasy. "But remember, we're protecting Daniel and our women, too. If your mama were here, wouldn't she do the same thing?"

Benjamin hesitated before he gave a slow nod. Sarah released him. "You and Daniel get the horses."

The boys ran off and soon returned, Daniel on Drummer and Benjamin on Redfire. Benjamin dismounted, handed Sarah the reins, and joined Daniel on Drummer. Sarah looped the reins around the pommel and helped Noah mount Redfire. After mounting behind him, she reached past him and lifted the reins. "Just relax, Noah. Redfire will take us home."

Night had fallen before they got to the house, and Sarah could see a lantern on the front porch. She let out a holler. "We got Noah. He's all right." Someone hollered back. The women met them at the hitching post. Faith had a blanket that she wrapped around Noah, giving him a light hug at the same time.

"Thank God, you're all right."

"Thank God, everyone's all right," Noah said, pain showing in his voice. Faith spoke to the boys, who led the horses to the barn. Sarah and Velia moved onto either side of Noah. Velia stretched up and kissed his cheek before draping his arm across her shoulder. She and Sarah helped him into the house to a sofa in the living room that Faith had hurried ahead to lay a sheet over. Two oil lamps in opposite corners lit the room. Gingerly, Noah sat and the women released him.

Faith lifted the blanket and examined his back. "Some skin's broken, and you have a pretty bad welt on top of the old ones. Sarah, would you get me some water and cloths to wash the dirt away? I'll get the salve." Faith left and returned with the salve that she placed on a small table next to the water Sarah had pumped at the kitchen sink.

With Velia's help, Noah removed the blanket. Velia folded it and laid it across her arm. Faith dipped a cloth into the pot of water and sat next to Noah. "Turn your back toward me as far as you can." When Noah turned, Faith carefully washed the lash stripe then washed all of Noah's back. She dried his back with another piece of cloth that Sarah handed to her. Afterward, she gently smoothed salve over the new mark as well as the old ones. When she finished applying it, the boys came into the room.

Faith looked up at Sarah as Velia tucked the blanket back around Noah. "Exactly what happened? Was it the Klan?"

"Yes, it was." Sarah rubbed the back of her neck. Noah had told her his story on the ride home. "Four of them ambushed him in the barn. He tried to put up a fight and got in a few licks, but one bashed him in the side of his head with a rifle barrel and that took all the fight out of him. When he went down, they kicked the breath out of him, tied him over a horse, and took him to a clearing in the woods. They roped him to a tree and said they meant to whip him until he was dead. That's when we found them."

"We?" Faith looked grim. "You took the boys with you? I was worried where they were."

"No, Mama," Benjamin said. "We followed the tracks and caught up with Aunt Sarah."

"The boys hid behind some trees," Sarah said, "and when I hollered, we all shot our rifles into the air. Some of the cowards ran away right then, but a few fired back and the one with the whip struck Noah with it."

Daniel piped up. "But he didn't get to hit Pa again." His mouth worked a moment before he said his next words. "He got shot."

Faith's eyes glittered with something akin to fear as she turned toward Sarah. "You shot one of the Klan? Did they see you?"

Sarah nodded. "He would have put another slice on Noah's back like that one you just doctored."

"Oh, Sarah, they'll be wanting to pay you back for that." For the first time, Faith got a good look at Benjamin. She gasped and jumped up. "What happened to you?"

"It's nothing, Mama. A piece of bark came off the tree and grazed me."

With anger flying from her like sparks from a fire, Faith snatched up the salve and marched over to him. "You came that close to being shot?" Benjamin stood still as Faith spread some salve on the cut then put the jar back down. She turned her glare on Sarah. "How could you? You took these boys into danger."

"Mama, Aunt Sarah didn't know we would follow her. It's not her fault."

Undeterred, Faith strode to Sarah, grasped the front of her tunic in both hands, and shook her. "You should have sent them back. Endangering yourself is bad enough, Sarah, but you had no right to endanger Benjamin. Or Daniel."

Sarah gritted her teeth, and her words were low. "Boys in the war were younger than they are."

Faith's chest heaved with her anger. "Don't give me that flimsy excuse," she shouted. "Benjamin and Daniel aren't trained soldiers." Faith let go of the tunic, balled her fingers into fists, and pounded on Sarah's chest.

Sarah grabbed Faith's wrists. "Stop hitting me," she said in a hoarse voice.

"Please, Miss Faith," Daniel said, "we was on Drummer, and we found Miss Sarah walking. She couldn't see the tracks from horseback, but we could. She got on Redfire, and we took her to them. Pa might likely be killed by the time she got there herself."

"Excuse me, ma'am," Noah said, "but Daniel did right coming after me. He's family. We'd risk anything to save each other."

Velia put her hand on Faith's arm. "The boys saved Noah's life. No one else been hurt. That's a good thing."

The touch seemed to calm Faith. Sarah loosened her grasp, and Faith tugged her hands away and stepped back. Her voice sounded raspy. "No one got hurt? What about the man Sarah shot? He could be dead. He might even be someone we know." Sarah reached for her, but Faith shrugged her off and turned away. "I'm so sick and tired of violence. I thought we were through with that when the war ended."

No one said a word.

Velia broke the silence. "I'll get a shirt for Noah," she said and left the room.

Faith turned her attention to Noah. "Can you eat some soup?”

"Yes, ma'am. I'm truly hungry."

"Stay here and rest. I'll ask Velia to bring you some." She started toward the kitchen without looking back. "The rest of you, come along and eat. Velia has a pot of noodle soup keeping hot on the stove."

"Noah," Faith said, "you can sleep here in the living room if going up the stairs would be too much for you."

"Thank you, ma'am. I'll stay here then."

"Boys," Faith said, "I think you've had enough excitement. Time to get to bed."

Benjamin kissed her and Sarah on the cheek. "Good night, Mama. Good night, Aunt Sarah." He gave Sarah's arm a squeeze as he kissed her. Daniel gave his parents a hug and kiss, said good night to Faith and Sarah, and the boys went out of the room.

Sarah looked toward Faith, who studiously avoided her gaze. Faith hadn't said a word to her at suppertime. A heavy rock settled to the bottom of Sarah's stomach.

"Good night, Noah," she said. "I hope you feel better in the morning."

"Thank you, ma'am. And thank you for savin' me. I'm forever beholden to you."

Sarah gave his arm a pat and left the room. Faith's earlier words, that had seemed directed at her, filled her with foreboding. I'm so sick and tired of violence.

Sarah had dimmed the oil lamp. Now she lay in bed waiting for Faith to finish changing into her gingham nightshirt. Her attempts at conversation had elicited only one-word answers. When Faith crawled into bed, she turned her back to Sarah.

"Please talk to me," Sarah said as she touched Faith's shoulder. "I don't want to go to sleep with you still angry with me." She smoothed her hand along Faith's arm, and Faith pulled away. "What could I do? Noah needed help. I hate to think what might have happened if the boys hadn't showed up. I would never have gotten there in time. I'm glad you didn't yell at them."

Hope stirred in her as Faith turned toward her, the dim light reflecting a green glow from her eyes.

"I'm upset that the boys followed you, but I'm not angry with them. I'm just terribly disturbed. I was worried about you and Noah. That goes without saying. But I'm angry that you didn't seem to have a care about including the boys in the rescue."

"I cared," Sarah said. "I even tried to send them back, but they were right, I needed their help. I didn't have a good alternative."

"They could have been killed. Those men could have attacked you instead of running away."

Sarah shook her head no. "Men who hide behind pillowcase hoods and sheets aren't likely to attack anyone who's armed. Besides, with a repeater rifle, I would have shot all of them before they got near enough to hurt anyone."

"I'm sure you would have," Faith said in a flat voice that went right through Sarah. "I'm disturbed that there was any shooting at all. I understand it, but it still disturbs me. Wasn't there any other way?"

"What would you have done?"

"I don't know. I don't have any experience with situations like this."

"And you think I have?"

"You were in the war."

"I was a courier, not a soldier who shot at the other side."

Faith's eyebrows raised. "You hunted down and killed the men who attacked you, and you got shot once more before that."

"You know I only killed one of them, and he was trying to shoot me. The others were already dead or dying. Those men were vermin." Sarah was getting impatient with the way this conversation was going. "The Ku Klux Klan are vermin, too. The one who was whipping Noah deserved to be shot."

"All right, Noah needed to be saved, and I concede that the shooting was a necessary part of that. But the very idea of someone shooting at Benjamin and Daniel makes me shudder. Noah might believe that Daniel should act like a man, but I'd guess that Velia feels the same way I do. You don't really know fear until your child is in danger. Only a mother can understand that."

"I'm a mother."

"You gave Jessica away to Scott and Lindsay. I doubt that your feelings for her come anywhere close to mine for Benjamin."

The last remark hurt Sarah, and she pondered its truth. What feelings did she have for Jessica? She hardly knew her and had no desire to. "Maybe that's true, but don't ever doubt that I love Benjamin. I wouldn't deliberately put him in the way of harm if I thought I couldn't shield him. I'm sorry I upset you."

"I know you love him. I guess we should leave it at that. But don't you dare put him in jeopardy again. I don't know how I would..." Faith hesitated a moment. "I'm sorry I hit you. After all my protest about violence, I surprised myself by acting that way."

She cupped Sarah's cheek in her palm. "I was angry and confused, but I shouldn't have pounded on you. Please forgive me."

Sarah turned her head and kissed Faith's palm. "You know I do, redhead."

Sarah rode Redfire into the heart of town the next morning to report the kidnapping episode to Sheriff Schmidt. She was curious to see whether anyone had mentioned anything about it. She dismounted and tied Redfire to the hitching rail in front of the sheriff's office, which was connected to the jail.

As she approached the door, she noticed a few furtive glances from passersby, but no one addressed her. "Sheriff," she said after she entered, "we had some trouble last night over at my place."

"That so?" Schmidt looked up from where he sat behind a cluttered desk. A strong smell of coffee hovered in the room.

Sarah took a seat in the chair in front of the desk, even though the sheriff made no move to offer it to her. She had long become accustomed to being treated like a man.

"Yes." She tipped her hat back with her thumb. "Some Ku Klux Klansmen showed up and kidnapped Noah, the man I hired to work around my place."

Schmidt pulled a tablet toward him, picked up a pencil, and wrote on the paper. "The nigra?"

"Yes. They dragged him into the woods and tied him to a tree. I went after him, and just as I caught up to them, they started to whip him. I hollered, but the one with the whip didn't stop. He lashed Noah, and I shot at him."

"You got any witnesses to this?"

"Yes. Benjamin Pruitt and Noah's son, Daniel, were with me.

He added their names to the tablet and said, "They're just boys."

"Fourteen years old. Big enough to know what they saw."

The sheriff was a tall, heavy, bearded man, and his chair squeaked as he shifted his bulk in it. He stopped writing and looked at Sarah. "Any grown-ups see this?"

Sarah's voice got edgy. "I'm grown up. I saw Noah tied to the tree. I saw him getting whipped. He has a fresh lash stroke on his back."

"Anyone see the nigra get kidnapped?"

"There were signs in the barn that he'd been grabbed and dragged away. The boys and I found him by following the trail into the woods."

"Miss Sarah." Schmidt flipped the pencil back and forth as he spoke. "I had a report last night that your nigra had stolen some food from Ed Putnam's store. Some men here set out after him, caught up to him in the woods near your house, and meant to teach him a lesson by leaving him tied to a tree. They said you showed up all yelling and screaming and shot Ed for no reason. They ran him back here to Doc Litchfield and came to tell me about it." He laid the pencil down and nudged a coffee mug aside. He reached to the mess of papers to his right and pulled one out. "They wanted me to get Judge Abbott to make out a warrant for your arrest."

He turned the paper toward her. "I filled out a request, but you can see I haven't signed it. Told them I wanted to hear your side, first-Sarah yanked off her hat and twisted it in her hands. She wanted to strangle someone, but couldn't, so her hat took the brunt of her anger. "Are you going to sign it?"

For the first time since she entered the office, a twinkle showed in Schmidt's eyes. "Nope. I'm going to tell them there's insufficient evidence of any wrongdoing on your part. And if they want to push for a warrant, I'll mention that taking the law into their own hands is frowned on by the courts and they could be the ones in trouble." He lifted the paper, balled it up, and tossed it into the trashcan sitting in the corner.

"Can I make trouble for them?" Sarah asked.

Schmidt lowered his head and looked at her from below bushy eyebrows. "You could, Miss Sarah, but I'd advise against it. Your witnesses won't hold up, and it'll come down to your word against theirs." The chair squeaked again as he shifted. "You'd be facing up to some of our most respected citizens, and..." He let his voice trail away.

"And I don't really fit into that category," Sarah said in a bitter tone.

Schmidt turned up his palms and shrugged. He jumped as Sarah slapped her hat against the desk and stood up. "I guess they get away with it," she said. "But thanks for not just going along with their lies and putting me in jail." She shook Schmidt's hand and turned to leave.

"Miss Sarah." She looked back at Schmidt. "You've made some enemies. I can't be everywhere protecting everybody. Be careful."

"Thanks." Sarah nodded, shoved her hat back on her head, and stomped out the door into the bright sunshine.

"Sarah!"

She eagerly turned around. Leah and Phillip Showell approached along the boardwalk. The couple had blonde hair and blue-eyes, but their likeness ended there. A little on the plump side, Leah barely came above Sarah's shoulder while Phillip, at six-foot-four-inches tall, towered over the two women. He walked with a discernible limp, the result of the artificial leg he wore. As a Civil War amputee, he had been given the prosthetic leg by the War Department.

"Leah, Phillip." Sarah gave them each a hug. "Where are the children?"

"We left them home," Phillip said. "You remember Greta Fulton, our next-door neighbor? She's watching over them."

"Amy's birthday's coming soon," Leah said, "and we're hunting for presents for her."

She slipped her arm through Sarah's, and they began moving along the boardwalk, three abreast. "We just heard some news about you shooting Ed Putnam. What happened? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." Sarah patted Leah's hand that lay in the crook of her elbow. She explained the kidnapping and her run-in with the Ku Klux Klan. "I talked to Sheriff Schmidt. Putnam's friends wanted to bring charges against me, but he refused. He warned me to be careful."

"Oh, Sarah," Leah said and frowned at her, "the names of Klan members are secret. They might want to retaliate, and you don't know who they are."

"Leah's right," Phillip said. "You and your family want to stay with us until this dies down?"

"I can't put you in jeopardy. But thank you for asking." Sarah stopped, bringing them all to a halt, and removed her arm from Leah's. "Go ahead and finish your shopping. I need to get back home and tell everyone what's going on."

Phillip took Leah's hand. "All right, but you keep a watch out, you hear? If we can do anything, let us know."

"I'll do that. Thank you. Give the children hugs for me."

Chapter Three

Things stayed quiet for the next week. Sarah suspected the local Klan members were embarrassed that the run-in with her had left one of them shot and her unscathed. Nevertheless, she strapped on her holster and kept watch for anything out of the ordinary. Just when her worries eased a bit, the local newspaper announced a forthcoming parade of the Ku Klux Klan, intended to recruit new followers and give support to the current ones. The Klan encouraged anyone who sought to join them to present a good reason to be accepted.

"This could mean more trouble," Faith said. She had just come home from school, and she laid the paper on the kitchen table in front of Sarah. She hung up her coat, dropped into a seat opposite her, and pointed to the article.

Sarah picked up the paper and turned in her chair so the golden rays of afternoon sunlight could cast a glow on the report. She already had her spectacles on, and her eyes raced through the words. When she finished, she frowned and looked up at Faith. "You mean the encouragement part?"

"Yes. Ever since Noah's kidnapping, some of the older boys at school have been making insulting remarks about people who don't fit their ideas of society—or probably their parents' ideas. A couple even hinted at the evil of certain relationships, including not-so-veiled references to us." She rested an elbow on the table and spread her fingers over her forehead and into her hair. "I'm worried they might do something stupid and harmful."

The newspaper rustled as Sarah folded it and laid it aside. "Where are Benjamin and Daniel?"

Faith's head snapped up. "Daniel's in the barn with Noah and Velia. I picked him up as usual, but Benjamin stayed at school to play ball with some of the boys. Do you think...?"

Sarah grabbed her jacket from the hook by the door. When Faith rose and began to don her coat, Sarah said, "You stay here. I'm sure Drummer's been unhitched by now, and I can go faster on Redfire." Faith nodded and Sarah hurried out the door.

About two-thirds of the way to school, Sarah spied Benjamin sitting against a tree at the side of the road. She guided Redfire over, dismounted, and knelt next to him. He seemed to be sleeping, and he barely roused when Sarah touched him. One eye and one cheek were swollen and bruised, and his mouth and nose seeped blood. "Benjamin, wake up." Sarah spoke forcefully and watched his eyes slowly focus. "Can you stand?" She stood and reached toward him. He grasped her hand, and she put her other hand beneath his elbow, and he managed to rise. Sarah waited while he gathered himself.

When he looked more aware, she said, "Can you get on Redfire?" He mumbled something and nodded. She helped him mount, settled herself behind him, and held him in place with her arm. "Let's get you to your mama." She kept Redfire to a walk, and they headed home.

As soon as they were within sight of the house, Faith came running out to meet them. "Oh my God, Benjamin, are you all right?"

"He's had a good beating," Sarah said. "But I don't think it's anything you can't fix."

Faith walked alongside Redfire, her hand on Benjamin's leg, until they got to the house, where Noah, Velia, and Daniel waited for news. The adults helped Benjamin off of Redfire and into the house to his bed.

By now familiar with all the household cabinets, Velia collected towels and a basin of water while Sarah rounded up the proper medications. Faith removed Benjamin's outer clothes and pulled a sheet and blanket over him to keep him warm. Velia stopped in the kitchen to add some warm water to the basin from the kettle that always sat on the back of the stove. Noah chipped some ice from the block in the icebox and wrapped it in a towel that Daniel brought to him.

Faith cleaned Benjamin's face and propped the ice next to his cheek and eye. Then she shooed everyone out and left him alone. He could tell them the details later. For the moment, his most important need was rest.

They all settled around the kitchen table, and Velia poured coffee for them.

"Velia," Sarah said, "let's hold off on supper for about fifteen minutes. Give everyone a chance to settle down." She turned to Faith who sat next to her. "Are you all right?" she asked in a soft voice. She leaned over and put her arm around Faith as tears welled from Faith's eyes.

"I will be. Who could have done this to Benjamin? And why?" Faith sniffled, and Sarah removed a clean handkerchief from her pants pocket and handed it to her.

"I think we both know why," Sarah said. "But let's wait until Benjamin feels up to explaining. No sense in going off half cocked. Maybe there's no connection with the article."

When she saw the puzzled look that passed from Noah to Velia, she told them about the KKK article. They both looked stricken. "That settles it," Noah said. "We's goin' to leave tomorrow."

The remark startled Sarah, and Faith pulled the handkerchief away from her face. "You don't have to leave," Sarah said. "Don't let this run you off."

"Really." Faith dabbed at her eyes. "This trouble isn't because of you."

"Part of it is," Noah said. "Velia and I's been talkin' it over, we thinks you'd be safer without us here. We's mighty grateful for everythin' you've done, but we's already decided to leave. Tomorrow, we's gone."

'But—" Faith started to protest, but Sarah quieted her with a squeeze to her arm.

'They've made the decision they think is best, and we need to honor that. It's not up to us to plead for them to stay."

"Thank you, ma'am," Noah said. "Thank both of you for everythin' you done for us. We think there's a spot somewhere where people can go about their business without being afraid of every shadow. And we aims to find that spot."

"I hope you can," Faith said. "Keep in touch with us, and let us know if you ever find it."

"We'll do that, ma'am." Noah looked toward Velia, who nodded.

"We will," she said. "Thank you both. I's sorry to leave, and so is Daniel, but it's time."

"It's also time for supper," Faith said. "Let's consider this one special."

The next morning, Benjamin felt well enough to get up and everyone passed around hugs, good wishes, and promises to keep in touch. Noah's family left on foot, the same as they had arrived in the area, carrying their belongings in canvas bags that Velia and Daniel toted. Each of them wore a new coat that Sarah had insisted on buying for them soon after they had arrived.

"I'm going to miss them," Faith said with moist eyes. "They've been good friends."

"Yes, they have." Sarah looked toward the family walking down the trail away from them. "I hope they can find a place where they can live without fear. They deserve better treatment than they got here."

In a few days, Benjamin's injuries had healed. On Saturday, he and Sarah worked together mucking the stalls.

When they finished, Sarah stopped for a moment and leaned on the rake. "Benjamin, I've been thinking you need to learn to defend yourself."

Benjamin either grunted or gave a short laugh. Sarah couldn't tell which, but he answered her. "That's not news to me, Aunt Sarah. I didn't even get a good punch in."

"Who did this to you?"

"Hiram Blanton and Roscoe Fields. But please don't tell Mama. This is between them and me."

"All right." Sarah pointed to the center of the barn. "Let's clear off that spot, and I'll give a try at teaching you how to block punches and punch back."

"You know about that?"

"The men in the camps often boxed each other just for entertainment. I watched them and picked up a lot of ideas."

Sarah spent three sessions, on three separate days, showing Benjamin the rudiments of self-defense. Then she worked with him for a few days on throwing single punches and combinations. He learned quickly. One day, one of his punches landed on Sarah's eye. She grabbed it with both hands.

"Oh, Aunt Sarah, I'm sorry."

"It's all right. But I bet I'll have a colorful bruise for a while. Good punch. You really made a quick fake and follow-up, and I fell for it."

"Mama's going to kill me for hurting you."

"No she won't. I'll explain you didn't mean it."

He took hold of Sarah's arm, and she dropped her hands from her face. "Let's go in and I'll get some ice for you," he said.

Sarah let him lead her into the house. She hoped allowing him to help her would ease some of his guilt. She sat at the kitchen table. Benjamin chipped some ice from the block in the icebox, wrapped the pieces in a washrag, and handed it to her.

She closed her eyes and held the ice over the sore one. The cold compress felt good. Benjamin had really stung her. The thought brought a smile of pride in him in spite of her pain.

"What's wrong? What happened?" Faith's voice jolted Sarah, and her good eye flew open.

Benjamin answered first. "I accidentally hit Aunt Sarah in the eye."

"Accidentally?" Faith frowned. She hurried over to Sarah, gently lifted Sarah's hand, and inspected the damage. "That looks Pretty nasty. What did he hit you with?"

"Uh. His fist."

"His fist!" Faith whirled toward Benjamin. "What were you thinking? Why would you hit Aunt Sarah?"

"Wait," Sarah said. "It was my fault. I've been teaching him how to defend himself, and I didn't duck in time."

Faith reacted like a puffed up balloon that quickly deflated. She pulled out a chair and sat. She rested her elbows on the table and put her head in her hands. In a voice that sounded nearly toneless, she said, "Sarah, Sarah, Sarah, do you really think fighting is the answer to everything?"

Sarah's voice took on an edge. "When a bully beats the hell out of you, yes, I think you have to learn to fight back. That's the only language a bully understands."

Faith let go with one of her hands and, still resting her head on the other, turned toward Sarah. "If you don't fight back, a bully has nothing to brag about and eventually will stop beating on you."

"Eventually? Apparently you don't know bullies like those I've known. If you don't fight back, they think you're a coward, and they'll pick on you unmercifully. I don't want to find Benjamin bleeding alongside the road every other day or so."

Faith let out a long sigh. "I don't want that either, but I don't want him to be taught that fighting is the best option. I want these lessons to stop." She raised her head and looked directly at Sarah. "Immediately. Is that clear?"

Sarah shook her head no, but she said, "Yes."

Faith switched her gaze. "Benjamin? Do you understand you'll take no more lessons on fighting?"

Benjamin appeared to be disappointed and confused as he looked from Faith to Sarah and back to Faith, before he said, "Yes, Mama."

Sarah began taking Faith and Benjamin to school in the morning and picking them up after school in the afternoon. The next few days passed without incident for Benjamin, other than having to put up with surreptitious taunts. Sarah hoped that Faith was right about the school bullies giving up on beating him.

Meanwhile, the newspaper reported that another Klan attack occurred in the next county. Witnesses said a house was set on fire by white-robed figures. The occupants escaped, but they lost their home and possessions. Another article spoke about a proposed act to stop the violence occurring in many states as white groups persecuted colored men and those who helped them. Faith pointed it out to Sarah.

"Maybe this will stop the Klan if it passes," she said.

Sarah snorted. "I'll believe that when I see it. The other government acts haven't helped."

On the way to school, Faith was near tears when she spoke to Sarah about the first article. "Wouldn't you think the town council would halt the parade? But I'm sure they won't. The whole town's excited and abuzz with talk about it. Even the schoolchildren are bouncing up and down over it."

"Maybe," Sarah said, "the time they spend in the parade and preparing for it will keep the Klan from brutalizing innocent people for a while." She stopped at the school and helped Faith down from the wagon while Benjamin jumped down and mingled with the children playing in the schoolyard.

Faith stood there for a moment and put a hand on Sarah's arm. "I keep forgetting to ask you whether you've finished your Bull Run project."

"Not quite. I need to polish up some sketches and write the last chapter. Maybe I can finish it today."

Faith rubbed Sarah's arm and let go of it. "Good. I'll see you this afternoon."

Sarah climbed back into the wagon and watched Faith walk across the yard toward the wooden school building. The morning sun peeked through fluffy clouds and reflected from Faith's hair, making her stand out from the small children who gathered around her. The simple beauty of the scene warmed Sarah all the way home.

Sarah did manage to finish her story and fill in the accompanying sketches. She gathered the material from her drawing area, took it into the office, and inserted it into a large Manila envelope. She propped it on the desk, against the wall, with the intention of mailing it the next day.

Just in time, she thought as she looked at the clock. She washed her hands and face at the kitchen sink pump and strode outside. She hitched Drummer to the wagon and headed toward the school.

When she arrived, school had let out. On her way in, she passed the last of the children leaving the yard. She pulled on the brake, wound the reins around the brake pole, and climbed down to work the kinks out of her legs. She stepped next to Drummer to pat him on the neck. Before she touched him, something smashed into the back of her head. That was the last she remembered.

Less than a minute later, Benjamin came out the school door. "Aunt Sarah," he called and loped over to the wagon. Curious as to why Sarah wasn't there, he looked around and saw Sarah's hat lying under the wagon. He picked it up, dusted it against his leg, and set it on the wagon seat, puzzled as to how it got on the ground. Looking toward the woods, he noticed some of the brush had been knocked down. With his gaze down to read the sign, he stepped into the woods. Something struck the side of his head. Multicolored bursts streaked behind his eyes. His legs buckled, and he sank to the ground.

Faith brushed chalk dust from her hands and her dress as she went outside. She looked up and saw their wagon near the woods, but neither Sarah nor Benjamin was in it. "Sarah!" she called. "Benjamin!" When no one answered, she ran to the wagon and saw Sarah's hat on the seat. Sarah would never have left her hat behind willingly. Faith looked toward the woods. Some brush had been knocked down. Faith clapped a hand to her chest as her heart thudded in fear. Without a doubt, something bad had happened.

She scrambled into the wagon and took off the brake. Headed toward downtown, she urged Drummer at a gallop for the sheriff's office.

After pulling Drummer to a stop in front of the office, she yanked on the brake pole and swirled the reins around it. Dismissing the stares of curious passersby, she dashed into the office, only to learn that Sheriff Schmidt had been called away. Deputy Bartell, the one left in charge, seemed oblivious to Faith's distress. "I'm telling you, Mrs. Pruitt, I don't know when the sheriff will be back, and I can't leave the office until he returns." His lip curled. "Maybe your...friend...just took a walk in the woods."

"She wouldn't do that. She came to pick me up and take me and my son, Benjamin, home. Benjamin's missing, too. Isn't anyone else available?" The door between the office and the jail cells was open, and Faith could see another deputy sitting on a chair talking to a prisoner. She pointed to him. "How about Deputy Turner?"

Bartell didn't even turn around. "He's off duty."

Faith finally got the message. They weren't going to do anything to help her. She walked out of the office onto the boardwalk. She wanted to cry with frustration, but that wouldn't do any good. She stood there trying to compose herself. Who could she turn to? Her gaze fell on a sign across the street, a few doors up. Phillip Showell, Construction. She ran diagonally across the street to Phillip's office. When she reached the door, she saw the Closed placard. Her heart fell. She ran back to the wagon, climbed onto it, and released the brake. She shook the reins and guided Drummer toward Phillip and Leah's residence. About three blocks from the center of town, the white clapboard house sat on a dirt side street. The yellowing leaves of a willow tree in the short front yard swayed slightly in the breeze.

Leah answered Faith's knock on the door and pulled it wide. "Hello. Come on in." She craned her neck to look past Faith. "Sarah's not with you?"

"No, she's missing. So's Benjamin."

"Missing?" Leah looked startled, and she touched Faith's arm. "Come sit in the living room and tell me what's wrong."

Faith stepped in and followed Leah to a seat on the sofa. "Sarah came to pick us up after school. When I went outside, the wagon was there, but she and Benjamin were missing. I looked along the edge of the woods, and I could see a spot that looked beaten down, as though someone had been dragged away. I think they've been kidnapped."

Leah gasped. "Did you tell the sheriff?"

Faith was so distraught she could hardly sit still. "Sheriff Schmidt wasn't in, and that sniveling Deputy Bartell wouldn't do anything. Said he had to stay there until the sheriff got back, even though Deputy Turner was there, too. I'm at my wits' end about what to do. Is Phillip here?"

Deep concern covered Leah's expression. "No. He's about twenty miles away giving a price on some work. I can't think of anything to help you except maybe waiting for the sheriff to get back. Did the deputy say when he might be expected?"

Faith pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at her eyes. "No."

"Do you have any idea what might have happened?"

Faith twisted the handkerchief as she spoke. "I'm afraid Ku Klux Klan members from town might be behind this. Sarah and I, and even Benjamin, have had remarks made to us. Not only for helping Noah's family, but also for Sarah dressing like a man. It doesn't help that the notice about the Klan parade included a mention of performing acts that they would approve of."

Faith stood. "I have to go again and check with the sheriff. Maybe he's back by now, and if not, I'll camp there until he is."

Leah rose, too, and walked with Faith to the door. "I hope he's there for you. Please let us know what happens."

"I'll do that. Goodbye."

When Faith entered the sheriff's office once more, she breathed a huge sigh of relief when she saw Sheriff Schmidt. "Thank God, you're here."

"Just this minute got back," Schmidt said. "What can I do for you?"

Quickly, she repeated the situation.

Schmidt grabbed his hat and yelled for two of the three deputies who now were in the building to come with him. "You go on home, Mrs. Pruitt. We'll get word to you as soon as we find anything."

"Thank you, Sheriff." Faith went outside, and the sheriff and his two deputies followed right behind her. She sat in the wagon until she saw them ride toward the school. Then she went home to a very empty house.

She went inside, stirred up the coals in the stove, and added several sticks to build up the fire. After pumping water into the teakettle and setting it over the flame, she gathered the makings together. When her tea was ready, she sat at the table and sipped at it.

The homey activity helped keep her mind off the situation, but now she felt overwhelmed with worry. Where could Sarah and Benjamin be? Who had them? Was it the Klan? What would happen to them? Would they be whipped like Noah had been? Or worse? Horrible pictures tumbled over and over through her mind.

The teacup rattled as she put it down with shaking hands. She looked at the chairs around the table where Sarah and Benjamin should be sitting right now for supper.

Please, dear God, bring them home safe. She pushed the tea away, laid her head on her arms, and cried.

Chapter Four

Oh...my...God. Sarah's head was a glass ball that had broken into a million shards. And every single one of them hurt like hell. She blinked her eyes partly open. When she saw only black, she opened them the rest of the way and hoped she wasn't blind. She moved her head and immediately felt queasy. A groan escaped, and she swallowed hard.

"Aunt Sarah?"

Benjamin! To the right and behind her. Sarah tried to reach out and suddenly realized she was tied hand and foot. What was going on? "Benjamin? Where are you? Can you see me?"

"I'm here near you, Aunt Sarah, but I can't see you. We're someplace very dark."

Sarah smelled musty earth, and her hands felt dirt beneath her. "I think we're in a cave. Are you all right?"

"My head hurts a lot. Someone hit me on the side of it."

"Do you know what happened?"

"I came out of school, and you weren't there, but your hat was under the wagon." Benjamin's voice started out sounding shaky, but it firmed as he spoke. "I thought you might have been dragged into the woods, and I started to follow the trail. I took about two steps and got hit. I didn't know anything else until I woke up right before I heard you. I'm all tied up. Are you all right?"

"Like you, my head hurts and I'm tied up. Can you roll over here so your back's next to mine? Maybe I can untie you."

She heard Benjamin moving but then other noises sounded from the opposite direction. Muffled voices came toward them. "The Klan will like this," one said.

"Yeah, they'll take us in for sure," another said.

Sarah saw a light approaching. A figure dressed in a white sheet and wearing a pillowcase over his head carried an oil lamp into what Sarah could now see was a cave, as she had guessed. Another figure appeared right behind the first.

"Well, well," Sarah said. "If it isn't our big brave Ku Klux Klansmen. Picking on women and children."

The one in front walked over to her, set the oil lamp on the ground, and kicked her in the ribs. "Shut up, bitch," he said in a raspy attempt at disguising his voice. "Trying to act like a man? You ain't got no balls." He grabbed his crotch. "I'll show you how to use what you do got."

His other hand reached toward Sarah's chest.

The oil lamp soared through the air. It hit the braggart's side and fell to the ground. The chimney and font broke, spewing a burning puddle of oil. Sarah rolled quickly away. The man's white sheet burst into fire like dry tinder. He shrieked. The pillowcase on his head ignited into a torch.

Already feeling queasy from the hard blow to her head, Sarah almost vomited from the awful smell of burning hair and flesh. She blinked her eyes against the acrid smoke. The second Klansman shouted and ran out of the cave. The first man, now engulfed in flames, staggered after him, screaming.

The blazing puddle on the floor brightened the cave. Consumed by rage, it took Sarah a moment to register the horror of what had happened.

"Benjamin, are you all right?"

"I k-kicked the oil lamp. I wanted him to leave you alone. I didn't mean to—" Benjamin sobbed.

"You did the right thing. He would have hurt me, and you stopped him." Sarah's hammering heart slowed down. Almost at once, she heard more voices. Her body tensed, and her heart sped back up.

"Sheriff Schmidt," she cried when he entered the cave. "Thank God it's you."

"You're all right now, Miss Sarah." With a grunt, he picked her up and carried her outside. Deputy Turner carried Benjamin. They laid them on the ground and cut their bonds. Schmidt stayed squatting next to them. "Turner, go help Bartell."

Sarah sat up and looked toward the smell of burning flesh. The white-robed figure had turned into a blackened heap. "Is he still alive?" she asked.

"Not by much," Schmidt said.

"Who is it?"

Schmidt looked down then lifted his gaze to Sarah. He spoke in measured tones. "Hiram Blanton. We caught Roscoe Fields running out of the cave and shouting like the devil was chasing him. Then this burning, screaming torch appeared, and I have to admit that for a second he scared me. Roscoe told us you were inside."

Repulsion at what had happened constricted Sarah's throat. "They kidnapped us," she whispered. "Two schoolboys." Schmidt undipped the canteen from his belt and held it for her to take a drink. Then he handed it to Benjamin, who gulped at it, his eyes wide and shot with red streaks. Tears left tracks on his soot-stained cheeks.

After he drank, Benjamin stared toward Hiram. Deputies Turner and Bartell were loading him into a wagon next to Roscoe. Benjamin buried his head in his arms. "I kicked the oil lamp. I burned him."

Schmidt patted his shoulder. "Not your fault, son. Those two are the criminals here." He looked back to Sarah. "We'll get the whole story out of Roscoe when he calms down. Meantime, you and Benjamin have nothing to worry about."

Sarah's headache, which had disappeared during the commotion, returned. She splayed her fingers through her hair and rubbed her head with both hands. "Can someone take us home, now?"

As they approached the house, Sarah could see Faith coming down the front steps of the porch. Benjamin leaped down before the wagon came to a full stop and ran to her. She engulfed him in her arms and bent her head next to his. When the wagon stopped, Sarah got out. "Thanks, Deputy Turner." He nodded and went back the way he came.

Sarah joined Faith and Benjamin. Faith looked up, let go of Benjamin with one arm, and raised it toward her. Sarah stepped into the embrace and threw her arms around Faith and Benjamin. The three stood there clinging to each other, in various stages of crying. After a few moments, Faith sniffled and said, "Let's go inside. I want to hear what happened to you."

Sarah showed Faith her cruddy hands. "First, we have to wash up." Faith joined them, and all three cleaned up at the yard pump.

They trooped into the lamp-lit kitchen. Faith had already prepared tea and set three places. Sarah gestured toward the settings and said, "You trusted we would return."

"I had to, or I would have gone crazy. I was imagining all sorts of things."

She filled each cup and sat down between Sarah and Benjamin. "Tell me what happened." Benjamin crossed his arms on the tabletop and rested his head on them.

Sarah held one of Faith's hands while she recounted their traumatic encounter with the would-be Klansmen. She ended with the part she knew would cut Faith's heart—the identities of the two kidnappers and what had happened to Hiram Blanton.

Faith's expression crumpled, and she moved her head slowly back and forth. Her fingers tangled with Sarah's. "I can't believe two of my students would do this. They're just boys. Is Hiram dead?"

Sarah squeezed Faith's hand. "Close to it, I think. He was still alive, but he got burned badly."

"And Roscoe?"

"He's all right. Just scared nigh to death, I expect."

"Why did they do this? Do you think some real Klansmen put them up to it?"

Sarah picked up her cup of tea and wiggled it. "Do you have any headache salts down here? If Benjamin's head feels anything like mine, we both could use some."

"You should have said something right away." Faith jumped up and looked glad for something to do. She reached into the top of one cupboard and pulled down a small sack. With a clean spoon from the silverware drawer, she put two teaspoons of the salts into Sarah's and Benjamin's cups. She set the bag back into the cupboard and the spoon in the sink. "Do either of you want ice for your heads?"

"No, ma'am," Benjamin mumbled.

"Not right now," Sarah said. "Sit down with us."

Sarah drank the whole cup of tea at once. She closed her eyes briefly, willing the salts to take effect even though she knew it was too soon. "Who can say for sure why they did it? But I don't think anyone put them up to it. From the few words I overheard, I'd guess they had some idea of presenting us to the Klan to make the Klan acknowledge them."

"Like the newspaper reported," Faith said.

"Exactly."

Faith shivered and rubbed her arms. "Sarah, there'll be repercussions from this. And you'll be right in the middle of it."

"Probably."

Faith tilted her head and frowned. "That doesn't worry you?"

Sarah leaned her head on the chair back. "I can't even think straight right now. My skull feels like it's full of ten different boulders that keep slamming together. But what's the use of worrying? What's done is done. I can't undo it."

Faith's tone shifted. Her words sounded like an accusation. "You've been involved in an awful lot of violence lately. And once again children have got caught up in it."

Benjamin had emptied his teacup and rested his head again on his folded arms. Now he lifted up and looked at Faith. "I was the violent one, Mama, not Aunt Sarah." His voice shook as he continued. "I caught Hiram on fire." Tears spilled over onto his cheeks, and he tried to dry them with the palms of his hands.

Faith put her arm around him, and Sarah reached behind Faith and grabbed his shoulder. "Benjamin," Sarah said, "Hiram threatened me with something that no woman should have to suffer. If he had gone through with it..." She couldn't finish the words. "You saved me, Benjamin. I said that earlier, and I'm serious about it. Thank you." There was something that she couldn't say to Benjamin. If Hiram had succeeded, Sarah might have killed him herself. In her mind, such actions deserved killing, and the law seldom did anything about it.

Faith touched her head to Benjamin's. "You wouldn't even have been there if you hadn't followed Aunt Sarah. Hiram's injuries are not your fault."

Sarah's insides jerked. Faith had as much as said that Sarah was to blame for what happened. Her voice sounded flat and raspy. "And they're not my fault either."

"I doubt you'll get that consideration from the townspeople."

But I expected it from you. Sarah shoved back the chair and stood. "The hell with the townspeople." She threw together an ice compress and held it to her head. She strode from the room and went to bed. When Faith joined her later, they lay back to back. Neither made any overtures to change that.

Phillip and Leah stopped at Sarah's home for a short visit and expressed their gratitude that Sarah and Benjamin had returned safely.

Leah said, "Did those boys blacken your eye?"

"No, Benjamin and I were boxing, and I forgot to duck." Sarah touched the bruise. "Seems like a month since that happened, but it was only a couple of days ago."

"You've had a lot going on since then," Phillip said. He told Sarah and Faith that a few people spoke harshly of Sarah's part in Hiram Blanton's injuries. "Doesn't seem to matter to them that the boys kidnapped you and Benjamin. They say that a woman who dresses like a man confuses a boy like Hiram, and you were asking for trouble."

Sarah bristled. "I never did one thing to hurt anyone here. I never even ever spoke to Hiram. Why can't they just leave me alone?"

Leah snorted. "Some so-called proper folks don't like anyone who's different. I can vouch for that. Back in Cranston, some people crossed the street when they saw me coming."

"I never did," Faith said.

"You sure didn't, and I know women that you helped with your doctoring of them. God bless you for that."

"Thank you." Faith looked toward Phillip. "I don't think too many people object to Sarah's outfit, although they probably use that as an excuse. I suspect they're more appalled by all the violence that's been going on, with Sarah in the thick of it."

Sarah glanced sideways at Faith. "I didn't ask to be in the middle of it."

"I know that," Faith said, her tone sharp, "but it seems to be following you, whether you want it to or not."

Sarah got up and walked out of the room.

Leah followed her out onto the porch. "Sarah..."

Sarah swung around to face her. She lifted her arms and let them drop. "Why is she blaming me for everything? I didn't start any of this."

"Yes, you did, even though you didn't mean to. When you befriended Noah's family, the bigots here took a greater disliking to you. I'm saying 'greater,' because they already were leery of you dressing like a man."

Sarah shoved her hands in her pockets. "That's none of their business."

Leah tapped her shoulder. "That's never stopped gossips before. And they had the additional reason to criticize you because your lover teaches their children."

Sarah grinned wryly. "So Faith's partly to blame, too."

"Nice try, darlin'." Leah stepped forward and wrapped her fingers around Sarah's arm. "Faith's been hit hard by finding that two of her students tried to hurt you. And Benjamin got caught up in it, too." Leah muttered almost as an aside, "I can't believe I'm sticking up for her." The words brought a puff of laughter from Sarah. "Anyway," Leah said, "try to understand how distraught she must be. You know she has a temper. She's going to say and do things she wouldn't otherwise."

Sarah turned and put her hands on the porch rail. "I have a temper, too," she said in a rough voice.

Leah stepped alongside her and slipped an arm around her waist. "I know you do, but Faith isn't the one who's been in danger. You and Benjamin have been. The two people she loves most. And she can't protect you. That's tearing her up." Leah gave Sarah a squeeze. "Try to be mindful of that when she snarls at you.

"Snarls is a good word for Faith's temper."

"I know. I've heard her a few times. Wanted to smack her butt, but she's bigger than I am."

Sarah's mood lightened at the picture Leah's words brought to mind. She put her arm over Leah's shoulder, bent down, and kissed her cheek. "Thank you. I love you, you know."

"I love you, too, darlin'." She looked up at Sarah. "Ready to go back inside?"

"Do I have to?" Sarah said in a teasing voice.

"Sooner or later. Besides, Phillip might need rescuing."

"Guess it better be sooner."

Hiram lasted three days in a coma and died on the third night with his parents by his side. The whole town of Bonneforte seemed to be in mourning. School had been closed as soon as Hiram had been put in the hospital, and it remained closed for a week. Sarah and Faith were barely speaking to each other.

No one in their household went near town until Faith and Benjamin had to return to school. Sarah continued to avoid entering town. Two weeks after Hiram's funeral, a messenger came with a request that Faith appear at the next public meeting of the town council. She showed the letter to Sarah, but neither one commented on it.

Morton Blanton called the meeting to order.

Sarah sized him up. He looked older, almost wizened. Even his rapping of the gavel seemed muted. She and Faith sat side by side, but to Sarah, a ravine separated them. She was angry with Faith for not supporting her in her claim of innocence in Hiram's death, and Faith was angry with Sarah, for what? The violence she kept harping on? In spite of what Leah had said, was any of that really Sarah's fault? Maybe Faith just needed someone to blame for her constant worrying about Benjamin. If so, Sarah would just wait her out. Eventually, Faith's sense of fairness should show itself. But what if it didn't? Sarah pushed that thought away. She couldn't cope with it right now.

The council finished all the regular business. Morton Blanton banged the gavel and said, "A major activity on the agenda has to do with the schoolteacher." Sarah snapped her mind back to attention. She felt rather than saw Faith stir.

"After much discussion," Blanton said, "the council has decided to propose a rule that any unmarried teacher in this school district must live in the house provided for her or him, and only close family members can live there, too. Therefore, I'll entertain a motion that such a rule be passed."

"I make the motion," one man said.

"I second the motion," another one said.

"All in favor say 'aye.'" After a slight hesitation, the ayes sounded.

"All opposed, say 'nay.'" Only a few nays were heard.

Blanton slammed the gavel. "The ayes have it."

He stopped and looked everywhere but directly at Faith. "Since Mrs. Pruitt is our current schoolteacher, the council grants her two days to move into the schoolteacher's abode, with only her son, or her contract will be rescinded. If she decides not to fulfill this obligation, school will close until another teacher can be found."

He put a finger on some notes lying in front of him. "Furthermore, we'd like to point out that the teacher's contract states that a teacher is expected to act in a way that brings no scandal upon her or the school. That includes not consorting with individuals who have been engaged in unlawful activities or any that might border on being unlawful, such as shooting a neighbor, harboring a fugitive, and," Blanton's voice quivered as he said, "causing grievous harm."

He rapped the gavel with more strength, quieting the murmur that arose. "Next order of business."

Sarah left the room and heard Faith trailing behind her. The townspeople's stares followed them out. When Sarah reached the outer door of the building, she realized Faith wasn't with her. She looked down the corridor and saw her involved in a discussion with Joel Litchfield, the town doctor. Sarah continued on out to the wagon to wait. She took a sulfur match from her pocket, struck it with her thumbnail, and lit the oil lamp that dangled from the side of the wagon.

"Faith," Joel said, "it sounds as though you're being told to stay away from Miss Sarah altogether."

Faith stared at him. "I care for Sarah. She and I are making a life together."

"Perhaps you need to rethink that," Joel said. "Some people in this town have a grudge against her. They might cause trouble for her, and if you and Benjamin continue to stay close to her, you both could get hurt, too."

"You've heard talk about Sarah?"

"Yes. She's getting blamed for Hiram Blanton's death."

"Hiram Blanton started all that. Sarah's not to blame." Faith turned away to walk toward the door.

Joel slipped his arm in hers and walked with her. "There's no convincing them, and I'll bet money they mean to harm her."

"I'll tell her that. She should be warned."

"Faith, wait." Outside, Joel tried to hold Faith back, but she pulled him along with her.

Sarah heard them coming. Doc Litchfield let go of Faith's arm and held her hand as she got into the wagon. He tipped his hat. "Remember what I said. Good night, Faith, Miss Sarah."

Sarah nodded and Faith said, "Good night."

Sarah clucked to Drummer and they started home. "Did the doctor have anything important to say?" She kicked herself for not being able to pretend she had ignored Faith and the doctor talking.

Faith turned in the wagon seat and looked directly at Sarah. We’s afraid some people are after you."

"For what?"

"Because of Hiram. They blame you for that."

"Do you?"

In the dim light, Sarah could see that Faith looked disturbed, but all she said was, "Of course not."

"Then don't let it bother you. I doubt anyone will do me bodily harm. I'm more upset by this separation the council's trying to force on us."

Faith wrung her hands. "Let's talk about that later." Feeling snubbed, Sarah didn't say anything else on the journey home.

After she unhitched Drummer and took care of his needs, she blew out the oil lamp. She left the barn and entered the back door. Faith sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea. "May I join you?" Sarah asked. After the mood Faith had been in for what seemed forever, Sarah didn't want to take anything for granted. But they needed to talk about the town council meeting. Thank goodness Benjamin was already in bed.

Faith stood up. "Of course." She collected another cup and saucer and silverware and set them on the table across from her seat. She poured Sarah a cup of tea and laid a napkin next to the spoon. "Do you want something to eat?"

"No, thanks. I don't feel very hungry." She fixed her tea and took a deep breath. "Will you talk to me now about what the town council decided?"

Faith nodded. Sarah saw her fingers curl into a tight fist, and her heart plummeted. "What," Sarah said, "do you intend to do about this...edict?"

"I've been giving it a lot of thought for the last few days."

Sarah's eyes widened. "You knew about it?"

"Joel has a close friend on the council, and he warned me that it was under discussion."

"Oh, it's 'Joel' now, is it?" Sarah asked in a gruff voice. She took a gulp of tea, consuming half of it, and slammed the cup into the saucer.

Faith huffed a breath. "We're just friends, Sarah. Nothing more."

"And you didn't see fit to tell me what was going on about this ruling?"

"I didn't see any need to worry you about it until it was decided one way or the other."

Sarah stared at Faith until she saw a red blush rising from Faith's neck to her cheeks. "You've already decided. Without even talking to me about it." Iron claws dug into Sarah's heart and twisted it. "You're leaving me."

Faith grabbed Sarah's hand and clung to it when Sarah tried to snatch it away. "I'm not leaving you. We're talking about Benjamin and me moving back into the schoolteacher's house. It's only for the rest of the school year, sweetheart."

Sarah squeezed Faith's hand hard. She knew it had to hurt. "You call me 'sweetheart' with your mouth, but your actions say otherwise. The rest of the school year is eight more months. You say it like it's a week or two. How can you walk out and leave me for eight months, as if my feelings don't matter?"

"Of course your feelings matter. I love you."

"Your actions don't show it." A hard knot formed in Sarah's stomach. She tried to think of Leah's words to her about Faith's worries, but she was too hurt and angry to allow them to sway her.

Faith put her other hand over top of Sarah's and rubbed it gently. Sarah loosened her squeeze but still held tight.

"I do love you, Sarah, and I always will. But until these Ku Klux Klan attacks stop, I'm frightened to death for you, for me, and especially for Benjamin. Two of his classmates, my students, became involved, and that has me petrified with fear. I have to suppose that our relationship was behind this attack. Even before the council meeting, Joel suggested that I move away from you until school's out. We can make plans to leave Bonneforte after that. I think he's right. We'll all be safer if we stay apart."

Sarah untangled their hands and stood and paced. "That's eight damn months." She couldn't imagine living that long without Faith by her side. "We can move right now if you want to."

"I signed a contract. I have a commitment to these children. I can't renege on that."

"I thought you had a commitment to me." Sarah's words sounded totter even to her. They tasted bitter, too, like wine gone bad.

Faith rose, walked to Sarah, and put her arms around Sarah's neck. Sarah didn't return the embrace. She stood as still and stiff as a post.

"I do have a commitment to you," Faith said, "but I can't let Benjamin be a target because of our needs. I don't think you want that, either." She kissed Sarah's cheek. "Moving out of here is only a temporary arrangement." She moved a hand to each side of Sarah's face and caressed her lips with her thumbs. "Please understand why I have to go."

Sarah's chest heaved. She did understand. She hated it like hell, but she understood. She lifted her arms and slid them around Faith's waist. After a slow nod, she pulled Faith close and kissed her, gently at first, then with passion. Faith's arms encircled Sarah's neck, and she melted against her. Desire flamed through Sarah like a brush fire. When they stopped for a breath, Sarah leaned away and slowly moved her hand over Faith's breast and down her side to her hip.

Faith pulled them together and ground her body against Sarah. Her whisper filled every nook and cranny of Sarah's being. "Let's not waste the time we still have."

That night proved to be a short respite from their cares. The next day, Sarah helped Faith and Benjamin pack their belongings in the wagon, then she took them to the new house. She was in a bad mood, and finding Joel Litchfield waiting at the house didn't improve it.

He lent a hand unloading, and when they were finished, he looked from Faith to Sarah. "I think you should stay away from each other for the time being. A certain element in town is fomenting trouble for you, Miss Sarah. I don't know exactly what, but you should stay alert. Meantime, I know you don't want to endanger Faith and Benjamin by being anywhere near them."

Sarah gave him a hard look. "Keeping me out of the way would suit you fine in your plans to get closer to Faith, wouldn't it?"

Faith gasped. Joel flexed his hands and took a step toward Sarah. "I think you better leave, Miss Sarah. You've walked into a quagmire, and you don't seem to worry that you could pull Faith and Benjamin in with you."

Sarah was seething. "What do you know about it? Mind your own business." She moved forward, and Faith slid in between them and put a hand on their arms.

"Stop it, both of you." Faith gave Sarah a little shove. "I think you should say goodbye to Benjamin and go home before there's more violence."

The reference to violence hit Sarah like a slap in the face. She spun on her heel and walked to Benjamin, who had been standing silently next to the wagon. They hugged, murmured a few words, and said goodbye to each other. Sarah climbed onto the wagon and left.

Sarah answered the knock on the door. "Leah, hello. Come on in." She held the door wide. Leah entered, and immediately after Sarah closed the door, Leah stood on her tiptoes and threw her arms around Sarah's neck.

They stood a moment, just holding each other, until Sarah stepped back. She crooked a finger at Leah and led her into the kitchen where they sat down at the table.

"How are you?" Leah asked.

"You want something to eat or drink?" Sarah asked. Faith always took care of making such offers to visitors. Had it been anyone but Leah, Sarah would have felt uncomfortable. But she and Leah had known each other even before Sarah met Faith, and they had lived together in this same house as friends.

Leah patted Sarah's arm. "No, but thanks for offering. If you want something, I'd be glad to fix it for you."

That brought the hint of a smile to Sarah's face. "Still watching out for me, huh?"

"I think we'll always watch out for each other. Now tell me how you are."

Sarah gave a weak shrug. "Lonely. But otherwise all right."

"You know, Sarah, just because Faith isn't here doesn't mean you're out of danger. Some people are really angry with you. You take in a slave family, shoot Ed Putnam, then Hiram Blanton gets killed. Those who blame you might think they have the right to make you pay. A kind of retribution."

"Good word, retribution." Several years ago, Sarah had embarked on a project of expanding Leah's vocabulary, and she had found an apt pupil. Ever since then, Leah had continued learning on her own.

"Stop changing the subject," Leah said. "You drive me crazy when you do that."

Sarah grinned. "Sorry." She pointed to the rifle sitting in the corner. "I keep that loaded and ready all the time. I wear my sidearm when I go out anywhere. And I've been sleeping in the living room so I can be quick to act if I hear anything."

"You trust your hearing?"

"You have a point there. It's sure not what it should be. But it's not terrible either. I heard your buggy coming."

"Umm." Leah didn't seem convinced. She looked thoughtful for a moment then snapped her fingers. "You should get a dog."

Sarah chortled. "A dog?"

"Sure. They hear and smell things way before people do."

"I'll think about it."

Leah stood and picked her pocketbook up from the table. "Come on. My next door neighbor's Irish setter had pups awhile back. Seems the papa was a beagle, so there's a real mixture of choices. They should be more than ready to leave their mama." She started across the room, and when she reached the door, she looked back over her shoulder. "Come on," she urged with a wave of her hand.

Sarah shuffled to her feet and joined Leah. "You're a pushy wench," she grumbled.

Leah's eyes twinkled. "But you love me anyway." She opened the door and started out with Sarah following her.

Sarah flicked her hand against Leah's backside. "Yes, ma'am, I surely do."

Chapter Five

Back at the house, Leah fixed a saucer of milk for the pup and Sarah set the small red creature next to it. The pup sniffed at it for a moment, then lapped at it without stopping. Sarah had chosen a red, short-haired male with a beagle face.

Leah giggled, and Sarah said, "What's so funny?"

"I was just wondering what it is with you and red hair. You have a redheaded partner, a red horse, and now a red dog. Any special reason why?"

Sarah gave that a moment of thought. "Not that I know of. I guess I just like red hair."

Leah's eyes sparkled, and she had a mischievous grin. "I bet you're partial to red, bouncy curls, too, hmmm? Especially at night, when they're dancing along your—"

Sarah felt a blush rise on her face as she stuck her elbow into Leah's side. "Stop it! I miss Faith enough without your teasing me about her."

"All right, I'll be good."

"Humph. That'll never happen."

"Would you want it to?"

Sarah gave her a quick hug. "Never. I love you just the way you are."

"That's good. I reckon I've changed about as much as I ever will. Have you decided what to call the puppy?"

"I think I'll call him Hope. Hope that things will get better."

Leah stuck her hands on her hips and batted her eyes. "You want to call me Charity to fill out the trio?" She lowered her hands and said, "Faith might not agree with you on that name." She and Sarah sat down at the table and watched the little mutt.

"Won't be the first thing she hasn't agreed with me on. But I was only kidding. I'll call him Paddy, an Irish name in honor of his mother. At least he'll be some company for me."

Leah laid her hand on Sarah's arm. "I understand you well enough to know you're really upset about Faith moving out. Do you want to talk about it?"

Sarah just kept staring at Paddy, and Leah continued. "I know it's hard to pick up and leave your home, but why don't you all just move away?"

"Faith doesn't want to renege on her contract. She's afraid they wouldn't find another teacher right away and the kids would suffer. She'd feel guilty about that."

"Are they looking for one?"

Sarah shrugged. "She told the council to look for one, but she made the mistake of saying she would serve the rest of the school year or until they found a replacement."

"Sounds like your girl was too upset to think straight. I'll bet she kicked herself when she realized it."

"Maybe. She's really committed to those kids."

Leah shook Sarah's forearm then moved her hand away. "She's committed to you, too. I'm sure her worry about Benjamin is behind this separation. She has to be sick about him being mixed up in Hiram Blanton's death. He might even have gotten some threats."

Sarah lifted her gaze to Leah and had to force her words past her lips. "I never gave that a thought—that Benjamin could have been threatened." She doubled her hands into fists. "If anyone harms him..."

"I think you should be more worried about yourself. Most of the people don't blame you, but a few do. The wrong few. Morton Blanton's been spouting off, and he has some cronies who always seem to gather around him like sheep. I don't trust them."

Sarah nodded toward the rifle in the corner. "Between my rifle and my Colt, I'll take care of anyone who means to harm me."

Leah stood. "I have to pick up Brendan from Greta Fulton before Amy gets out of school, and Phillip will be finished work soon. He always brings a big appetite home with him."

Sarah stood up and laughed. "Big man, big appetite." Paddy came over and nuzzled Sarah's boot. She reached down, picked him up, and settled him into the crook of her arm. Paddy licked at her fingers. "Thanks for the watchdog."

Leah scratched the pup's head. "You're very welcome. I feel better knowing you have him. He's little yet, but he can still bark at strangers." They walked to the door. Sarah leaned down and they kissed each other's cheek.

"Give Phillip and the children my love."

"I'll do that. You be careful, please."

"I will. I promise."

Sarah purposely waited until 10 p.m. before starting out on Redfire. Dark clouds, heavy with the promise of rain, obscured the moon and stars. She took a deep breath before entering the woods, recognizing the familiar scent of newly mown hay and a tinge of wood smoke. After reaching her destination, she dismounted, tied Redfire to a branch, and crept to the edge of the trees. She tripped over a raised root, and pain surged through her leg from foot to knee. She gasped and smacked a fist into her thigh. "Damn!"

The appearance of a lit window through the dimness lessened her pain. Would she be brave enough to knock on the back door this time? She had come to the schoolteacher's house twice before, but not sure of the reception she would get from Faith, she had hesitated and eventually returned home. She hadn't seen Faith privately for two weeks, and welcomed or rejected, she couldn't stand it anymore.

She crossed the thirty feet of open space and limped toward the house. She tapped on the door, and after a few moments, it opened a crack.

"Sarah!" Faith flung the door wide, grabbed the front of Sarah's jacket, and yanked her inside the kitchen. Without letting go, she stuck her head outside and looked around. "Did anyone see you?" She shut the door and turned her attention to Sarah. With one quick motion, she pulled Sarah close and kissed her.

Sarah embraced Faith and joined in the kiss. After a long moment, Faith broke off, wrapped her arms around Sarah's neck, and lowered her head into it. "I've missed you so much."

"Me, too," Sarah murmured into her hair. She closed her eyes and relaxed for a moment, basking in the relief that suffused her.

Faith leaned into her then stepped back. "Sit down. I have some hot tea on the stove." Sarah hung her jacket on the back of a chair and sat while Faith got cups and spoons and poured the tea. "I haven't seen you for two weeks, not even in town. I had to ask Phillip if you were all right. Why didn't you come over sooner?" She got sugar from the cupboard and a pitcher of milk from the icebox and put them on the table.

"I was afraid."

Faith stopped in the middle of opening a clown-faced earthenware cookie jar. "Afraid? Of what?"

Sarah rubbed her neck. "That you were still angry with me."

Faith removed some sugar cookies from the jar and closed it. She placed the cookies on a cake plate and set it on the table. Sitting cattycorner, she stroked Sarah's arm with her fingers. "Yes, I was angry. You were mixed up in a lot of turmoil, and you got Benjamin involved in it. That really upset me. It still does. But when have I ever stayed angry at you for long?"

Sarah looked down at the table and answered in a low voice. "Never, until this past time." And that had hurt more than Sarah cared to admit—or even think about. "Then you left."

Faith took Sarah's hand in both of hers. "I didn't leave because I was angry. You know that, don't you?" When Sarah didn't answer, Faith loosened one hand and laid her palm against Sarah's cheek. Sarah leaned into the touch then lifted her chin and gazed into Faith's eyes.

Faith said, "I'm worried, sweetheart. Benjamin's upstairs asleep right now, and that's about the only time I feel any relief from worrying about him. I'm afraid for you, too. And I'm afraid for me. Please don't hate me for that."

Sarah stood and moved next to Faith. She took Faith's hands, pulled her up, and they melted together. "I don't hate you," Sarah said. "I love you. I want to kiss your worries away. I want to hold you and make love to you and make all of us safe. Being separated from you and Benjamin is killing me."

"I feel the same—"

Someone knocked on the door. Hard. Faith stepped away from Sarah and moved to answer the knock. Sarah raised a hand then dropped it.

Faith pulled the door open. "Hello, Joel."

Joel Litchfield stepped in without waiting for an invitation, and Faith closed the door. He looked as he almost always did, dressed in a dark brown suit, white dress shirt, and dark green bow tie. He removed his white Stetson, baring a thick head of wavy, light brown hair. Sarah had to admit he was a handsome man and had always seemed pleasant. But that made his presence here all the more disturbing.

He looked directly at her. "I don't think your visiting Faith in the schoolteacher's house was intended by the town council's ruling. In fact, I'm sure they would frown on it."

"How did you even know I was here?" Sarah asked. "Have you been spying on Faith?"

"I drive by on some nights to make sure everything's all right. I was coming down the lane in my buggy, and I heard a horse whinny. That seemed unusual to me, so I got out and looked around. I found your horse tied in the woods. It didn't take much to realize you were here with Faith."

"And you just had to save her," Sarah said with a sneer.

He frowned and his voice sounded earnest. "I think I have saved her. If anyone else had come by and found you, she would probably be dismissed out of hand." He turned and looked at Faith. "And you don't want that to happen, do you?"

Faith covered her mouth with her fingers and shook her head no.

"Very well." Joel looked back to Sarah. "I'm not your enemy, Miss Sarah. If you leave now and give me your word you won't return, I'll keep quiet about this."

Sarah stepped toward Faith. Anger made her voice shake. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No." Faith's eyes looked troubled, and she sounded anguished. "But I don't think we have a choice."

With a scowl at Joel, Sarah said, "Give us a moment alone."

He looked at Faith, who said, "Please."

"All right. Two minutes." He opened the door and went out.

Sarah's rage overflowed. It coursed through her like lava from a volcano and seared her to the ends of her fingers and the tips of her toes. How dare he? "So he comes by here every night? And what do you do? Did I interrupt your plans?"

"He doesn't come every night. And nothing happens. We have tea and talk, that's all." Faith reached out, but Sarah pushed Faith's hand to the side and backed away.

"Talk about what?"

Faith clasped her hands in front of her waist. She squeezed them together so hard, her knuckles turned white. Her voice sounded harsh. "He's trying to convince me that we should stay apart. Forever, not just now. He says that our relationship, yours and mine, is against nature. 'An abomination,' he claims. He brought a Bible and read it to me."

Sarah was stunned. "And you...you believe him?"

Faith unclasped her hands. She grabbed both sides of her head and threaded her fingers into her hair. "I'm so mixed up, I don't know what to believe."

Sarah felt her face harden; her forehead, cheeks, and chin turned to stone. Her voice grated. "Do you want to leave me, permanently?"

Faith reached out again, and Sarah backed farther away. Faith dropped her arms to her sides. "I love you, Sarah. But right now, our being together puts all of us in danger. I can't get that out of my mind."

"Then come away with me."

"We already talked about this. I gave my word. I need to stay here."

"Well, I don't." Sarah grabbed her jacket and hat, strode to the door, and yanked it open. "Tell Benjamin I love him." She stepped onto the porch and slammed the door as hard as she could.

She shoved the hat onto her head, donned the jacket, and stomped down the three steps to the ground where Joel waited.

She grabbed Joel's arm. "You're leaving, too. It's not proper for a decent woman to have a gentleman caller so late in the evening." She steered a foot-dragging Joel toward his buggy. She heard Faith open the door and saw the rectangle of light on the ground widen.

Sarah gave Joel's arm a shake. "Say good night."

"Good night, Faith," he called. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Good night," Faith answered.

Sarah wanted to slam him to the ground when she heard his remark, but she restrained herself.

She let go of his arm, and he straightened his coat. "I understand that you're upset, but you better not stop by again or even talk to Faith in town. You can only cause trouble for her and Benjamin."

"Don't worry. I can wait until the school year is over. You just take care of your own business, and I'll take care of mine."

"Fair enough, as long as you leave Faith alone." Joel climbed into his buggy and just sat there.

Sarah walked into the woods to get Redfire. Leave Faith alone, leave Faith alone, leave Faith alone drummed into her mind. What right did Joel Litchfield, or anyone in town, have to demand that from her? She and Faith were good people. The unfairness of it weighed heavily on her.

She mounted and rode back toward the schoolteacher's house. She couldn't think of it as Faith's house and vowed that she never would. When she got back to where Joel waited, he nodded to her and they both left. Sarah looked back and saw Faith still standing on the porch. Faith waved, but Sarah didn't. She dug her heels into Redfire's flanks and cantered toward home, confused and heartsore.

Halfway there, she recalled Leah's advice. In spite of Sarah's good intentions, her temper had overcome her. She had tried to make allowances for Faith's worries, but Joel Litchfield's recurring appearance put a different slant on things. Sarah was quickly learning to hate him.

Sarah hung her hat and jacket on the wall peg and scooped up Paddy. She had heard him bark as soon as she rode into the yard. After putting Redfire in the barn and unsaddling him, she again heard Paddy bark before she unlocked the door and entered the kitchen. "Good boy." She patted him and set him back on the floor, where the pup jumped around her feet. She took a sulfur match from her pocket, scratched it against her pants, and lit the hurricane lamp that rested on the kitchen table. She checked to make sure Paddy still had food and water in his bowls. When she sat at the table, Paddy calmed down and lay next to her feet.

Sarah put her elbows on the tabletop and pounded her palms on the sides of her head. What the hell was going on with Faith and Joel Litchfield? Was he trying to steal Faith from her? Was Faith being persuaded that their love for each other was wrong? Was it? After a moment, Sarah sat up straight and pondered that.

No, she decided. True love between two grown women who love each other as much as she and Faith did couldn't be wrong. They weren't hurting anyone or two-timing anyone.

She turned in her chair, straightened one leg, and dug a folded piece of leather from her pocket. She hunkered back to the table and laid the leather object on it. Gently, she turned back the overlapped pieces of leather to reveal a folded handkerchief. She opened the handkerchief and spread it wide, laying bare its contents. With the hint of a smile, she recalled the day she had received this.

She had been sitting at the writing desk in her workroom with her pencil poised over the half-written page. She gazed off into space. Her writing hadn't been going well that day; she couldn't find the right phrasing for what she wanted to say. Just as she became aware of the warmth behind her, Faith's hands closed on the back of her neck and began a light massage.

"Having trouble?" Faith asked.

"Um-hmm. The words just won't come."

"It's Saturday, sweetheart. Why don't you take the day off?" Faith moved her hands up and down on Sarah's back.

"We didn't have anything planned. I thought it was a good time to put some more work in on the story."

Faith ended the massage and seated herself backwards on the workbench, facing Sarah. "Benjamin went to the Hurley's for the day, remember? Betty Hurley invited him to stay for dinner." She laid one hand on Sarah's thigh and, with the other, untied the tunic cords at her neck. "Someday," she said, "I'm going to buy you a buttoned shirt. More anticipation, more fun." She gazed at Sarah, and the green in her eyes deepened. "What were you saying about nothing being planned for today?"

Sarah turned and gathered Faith into her arms. Faith's hand slipped between Sarah's thighs and moved farther toward her body. They kissed and Sarah groaned as the hand reached its goal. She stopped the kiss for a moment and whispered, "I think we've found a plan."

Somehow, during their lovemaking, they had wound up in bed. Now they basked in the afterglow, naked and tangled together. Faith lay with her head just under Sarah's chin with strands of her hair strewn across one of Sarah's breasts. Sarah picked up a handful of the strands and held them to her lips. "I love your hair. It's so beautiful."

"Mmm. I love all of you. You're beautiful, too," Faith murmured against her breast.

Sarah grabbed her and rolled over, so she was on top. "I meant that, too, you wench," she said, huffing a laugh. She bent to kiss Faith, and the fire reignited.

Later, after supper, Faith said, "I have something for you." She left the room, returned, and presented Sarah with one of the handkerchiefs she had embroidered. It was folded so that one corner showed the initials, FPC.

"FPC," Sarah read aloud and looked up into Faith's eyes, one eyebrow lifted in question.

"Faith Pruitt Coulter," Faith said without hesitation. "I've put that on all my handkerchiefs."

Sarah's eyes moistened. "I didn't know that. Thank you."

"There's something in the handkerchief. Open it up."

Sarah picked up the edges of the fold, one by one, and gave a huge smile when she saw what the handkerchief contained. She lifted a long lock of curly red hair that had been compressed into a small bundle. Still smiling, she held it to her cheek and looked up at Faith. "Where did you cut this from? I can't even tell."

Faith shook her head so that curls spilled everywhere around her face and shoulders. "I have so many, I can't tell either. Do you like it?"

"I love it." Sarah's voice grew husky, and she reached for Faith. "I'll keep it with me forever."

And she had done just that. She wrapped it in leather to protect it and always carried it in her pants pocket. The curl lay on the table, and she touched it almost reverently then kissed it. "Never thought this would be the closest I could get to you, sweetheart." Her voice hitched as she said this aloud. She rewrapped the lock of hair and put it back in her pocket.

She got up to get ready for bed, and as she carried the hurricane lamp past the calendar, a big black X on one date caught her eye. Damn. That idiotic Klan parade was this coming weekend. How would the town react to that? She rubbed her neck. The hell with it. She had other more pressing issues to think about.

Upstairs, Paddy followed her down the hall, and after Sarah finished washing and changing into her nightshirt, they went back downstairs to the living room. Sarah set the lamp on the table. She'd been sleeping on the sofa ever since Faith left, and she kept a pillow and quilt on it. She patted the oval rug on the floor in front of the sofa, and Paddy lay on it almost as though he'd been trained.

Sarah scratched his ears. "Good boy. And smart. Good night, Paddy." She put a hand behind the hurricane lamp's chimney, blew out the fire, and settled onto the sofa.

When she slid under the quilt, she ran her hand over some of its squares. She and Faith had made this quilt together. Sarah drew two designs, one of interconnecting rings and another of interconnecting hearts. Using white material purchased especially for this purpose, they cut matching squares. Sarah stippled the ring design on half the squares of material and hearts on the other half. Faith embroidered the designs in various colors. Afterward, they sewed the squares together over cotton batting to make a blanket they called their Love Quilt.

Sarah's throat felt tight, and she fought against her tears. No, their love wasn't wrong. The Ten Commandants said nothing against it, and neither had Christ. She firmly believed that God didn't condemn them for it.

But down deep in Faith's heart, what did she believe?

Joel Litchfield called at Faith's house the very next evening in a light but steady rain. She let him in and hung his damp hat on the wobbly clothes rack resting in the corner. They sat in the living room. "Would you care for some tea?"

"No, I'll only be a minute. I came to warn you." Faith cocked her head. "Warn me? Of what?" Joel grimaced. "I overheard some men who have terrible plans."

This can't be good, Faith thought. "About what?"

"They said you were married before, so it must be Sarah Coulter's influence that's led you astray."

Faith raised her eyebrows. "Led me astray? In what way?"

"In your relationship with her. She dresses like a man. She acts like a man. Shooting people. Giving children wrong thoughts and getting one of them killed. People consider her to be evil, and they don't want the teacher of their children to be involved with an evil person."

Agitated, Faith stood and paced, wringing her hands. "But Sarah's not evil. Why would anyone think that?"

"Because the Bible calls your relationship an abomination. I read you that chapter." Shortly after Faith had moved to the schoolteacher's house, Joel had shown up carrying a Bible. He had seemed so sincere when he read her the passage that supposedly referred to the sinfulness of homosexuality. He urged her to think about the words with an open mind. That suggestion sounded strange to Faith under the circumstances. Wasn't Joel the one with the closed mind?

Now she swung around to face him. "Regardless of what people's opinions are about Bible interpretations, and that's all it is, a matter of opinion about what could be faulty explanations, Sarah's not evil and neither am I."

"You can say that all you want, but it doesn't change how people perceive the situation." Joel hesitated. "You know...if Sarah wore a dress, she could have avoided this persecution and kept you and Benjamin out of danger." He shook his head. "But she's too foolish to do that. She thinks of herself as equal to a man."

"She's better than most of the men I know."

Joel gave her a condescending look. "Maybe you don't know the right men. A strong man could make you very happy."

"I'm quite happy without a man in my life." Faith knew Joel meant himself. She took pity on him and didn't make a smart remark. She believed his intentions were good.

"The right man could protect you, if you'd let him. The Bible says women should be subservient to men."

"That's another matter of opinion."

Obviously agitated, Joel stood and slowly hit his fist into his palm. "I didn't come here to discuss religion. I came here to warn you. Those people I overheard plan to kill Sarah if she doesn't stay away from you."

Faith felt the blood drain from her face, and she almost fell into a chair. "Kill her? Kill her?" Faith couldn't wrap her mind around that idea. "Someone wants to kill Sarah because of our relationship?"

Joel looked grim. "More than one person, I'm afraid."

"Who are they? How can we stop them?"

"I have no idea who they are. I merely heard them talking. I didn't recognize any voice." Joel touched Faith's arm. "How to stop them? I can only suggest that you make sure Sarah knows to stay completely away from you. Send her a message through the Showells. They're friendly with her."

Faith wanted to cry. Joel put his arm around her shoulder and tried to draw her into an embrace, but she slipped out of it. "I can't do that. Sarah's stubborn enough to do the exact opposite. She's fearless."

"Then you'll have to convince her in some other way that you don't want her near you."

"You're asking me to push her away." Faith said it flatly, as a statement, not a question.

A look of annoyance flickered across Joel's expression, but his voice stayed smooth. "If you want to keep her alive, yes. At least until the school year's out and you can make other plans."

Faith's mind raced, searching for a solution. "Have you told the sheriff about this?"

Joel lifted his hands and dropped them. "What can I tell him? I have no names, no proof. I'd look foolish, and a town doctor can't afford to look foolish." He walked to the door and took his hat from the rack. "I have to go. You remember what I told you. Sarah has to stay away from you." Faith didn't answer him, and he opened the door and left.

She put her face in her hands. Joel had mentioned about Sarah wearing a dress. Was that the solution? Surely Sarah would see that it was an easy answer to the objections swirling around her. Or would she? Faith made one decision. She would act coolly toward Sarah and discourage her from visiting until the school year ended.

But could she keep up the act, when she yearned to be in Sarah's arms? Oh, Sarah, what a mess we've gotten into.

Chapter Six

Sarah stood on the boardwalk and watched the Ku Klux Klan parade down Main Street. She hadn't expected to see so many men in the column—at least a hundred. She wondered how many were from Bonneforte. Most had sheets covering their bodies, and they all had pillowcases with eye and mouth cutouts over their heads, concealing their faces.

The men carried rifles loosely in their hands and marched to a cadence set by three drummers who walked directly behind a single Klansman who apparently was the leader.

Just as the leader neared her, someone gave Sarah a shove from behind that caused her to lurch into the street and collide with him. The drummers stopped, and the column threatened to pile up behind them. Apparently the leader thought he was being attacked. He swung a fist that connected with Sarah's jaw and split her lip. Her hat flew off as, stunned, she fell to the ground.

Joel had invited Faith to watch the parade with him. They both saw Sarah stumble into the leader.

"Oh!" Faith gasped and started toward her. Joel grabbed her arm. "Let go of me, Joel, Sarah needs help."

"I'll help her. You stay here. You don't want to get involved with the Ku Klux Klan." Without waiting for an answer, Joel began pushing his way through the crowd.

The unspoken threat of the Ku Klux Klan made Faith hesitate just long enough for Joel to get halfway to Sarah. Faith stood on tiptoes to watch his progress with her peripheral vision as she kept her gaze on Sarah. She winced when Sarah got kicked. She took a step forward and then stopped as Joel approached the Klan leader. Thank goodness, Joel was there. He would take care of it.

Before Sarah could move, the leader drew back a pointed-toe boot and kicked her in the ribs. She lost her breath. He drew back the boot again, but a man ran between Sarah and the Klansman. "Stop. That's enough." Joel Litchfield grabbed her arm and dragged her to her feet. She clutched one hand to her stomach and doubled over from the pain in her side. Joel swiped her hat from the ground and handed it to her then grasped her elbow and urged her away from the marchers. Sarah glanced into the parade watchers and saw Faith looking at her with her bottom lip captured between her teeth. Joel hurried her to a different spot before leading her back onto the boardwalk.

Sarah blinked and tried to straighten up. She replaced her hat, fumbled in her pocket for a handkerchief, and dabbed the white cotton square at the blood seeping from her lip.

"Are you all right?" Joel asked.

She felt along her ribcage. "I think so. Just a cut lip and a sore side. Thank you for helping me."

Joel nodded curtly and strode away. Sarah was tall enough to see over most of the crowd. She saw Joel meet Faith farther along the boardwalk. When Faith took a step in Sarah's direction, Joel grabbed her arm, tucked it in his, and walked her toward the door to his office. Sarah had wondered why Joel came to her rescue. And so quickly. Of course, Faith must have sent him. Now he probably looked like a hero in her eyes.

Sarah swallowed the bitter reality that he could walk arm in arm with Faith without being challenged, and she couldn't. But she should be grateful for his intervention. Another kick or two from that boot might have broken some ribs. She sighed. More violence not of her doing.

People quickly moved aside as she turned and shuffled away, still dabbing at her lip. She had recognized those hand-tooled boots. People treated her like an outcast while they admired their Town Council President Morton Blanton, who was leading a parade of Ku Klux Klansmen. She wondered how many other townspeople were hiding under those pillowcases.

This episode had shaken her up. Had it been planned? What else might these idiots have in store for her? If Faith had been with her, would she have been pushed, too?

She was thankful that Faith hadn't been involved. But, God, how she missed her.

Loud barking woke Sarah. Flickering light showed on the walls and ceiling. She threw off the quilt and jumped from the sofa. Yapping and growling, Paddy clawed the door in the foyer. Sarah grabbed the rifle from the corner. She eased back the edge of a curtain and peered outside. The earlier rain had stopped, and a man stood just beyond the porch, holding a burning torch that lit the whole scene. Five men were trying to pound a large wooden cross into the softened ground with their fists, probably to avoid the noise of using a sledgehammer.

Sarah raised the window and stuck the rifle through it. Aiming at the center of the cross where the horizontal bar lay over the vertical one, she took a breath, held it, and squeezed the trigger. The crash of splintering wood shattered the silence. Four men ran off, leaving the one holding the torch and one other.

Sarah took a bead just below the fiery tip and fired again. The torch went flying. The other man had drawn his pistol, but the torchbearer yelled, "Run, you fool!" and they both took off.

Paddy soon stopped barking. Sarah sat down on the floor and laid the rifle next to her. Paddy, whining softly, pushed a cold nose against her arm. Sarah picked him up with one hand and held him against her chest until the puppy calmed down. "Good job, Paddy." She kissed his small red head and set him back on the floor. Sarah pushed him down next to her and stroked his back until he lay still. After waiting close to an hour, she got up, took the rifle, and went back to the sofa.

Paddy awoke, trotted after her, and settled on what was fast becoming his usual night spot on the rug. Sarah glanced down at him and grinned. Leah had been right. Even though he was just a pup, Paddy was a great watchdog.

She slid under the quilt and squirmed against the cushioned back of the sofa. With a huge leap of imagination, she pretended the softness she snuggled against was Faith. She felt wretched. Not only did she miss Faith, but she also wondered whether Joel had made any progress in turning Faith against her. This latest encounter could add fuel to the fire of Faith's anger.

Damn it, she wasn't asking for this violence to follow her, but she was helpless to stop it.

"How many were there?" Sheriff Schmidt asked. He pushed the ubiquitous folders out of the way and pulled a tablet closer.

Sarah sat down at the desk. "Six. Five trying to pound the cross into the ground and one holding a torch."

Schmidt wrote that down. "What happened?"

"I shot the middle of the cross, blew it apart, and four of them ran. The one with the torch froze in place, and the other one pulled his gun. I shot the torch, and one of them yelled, 'Run, you fool,' and they bolted."

"You shot the torch?" Sarah wasn't sure whether Schmidt sounded impressed or skeptical.

"I've had a lot of target practice. Hard to miss at that range."

"Mmm." Schmidt gave her a quick smile. "Did you recognize any of them?"

Sarah considered that for a moment. "The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but I can't place it."

Schmidt twiddled the pencil he held. In his large hands, it looked like a sulfur match. "Not much to go on. I'll come out and check the site, but I don't hold much hope."

"Don't waste your time, Sheriff. There's nothing there, just some bits of lumber and pitch that could come from anywhere. No distinguishing boot prints. I just want to let you know what's going on. I think someone's trying to run me out of town."

Schmidt laid down the pencil, sat back, and rested his elbows °n the chair arms. "I'd say you're right. I hear things."

Sarah flicked her fingers against the front of her hat and tipped it back. She raised her eyebrows. "What kind of things?"

"Nothing I can act on, but a couple of people in this town are talking against you. They want to punish you for Hiram's death."

"Hiram's death was his own fault." Sarah drummed her fingers on the desk. "Ed getting shot was his own fault, too."

"Yes, but they'd rather blame you."

"Do all the men in these parts belong to the Klan? Except you and Doc Litchfield, I mean."

Schmidt fingered his chin. "I'd guess the six you saw at your place are just about the only active ones. Maybe one or two more. Enough to cause more than just mischief, if they decide to."

"Have they attacked anyone else?"

"Nope. Not hereabouts, anyway. Just you and your nigra."

"Noah's not my nigra. He's a free man."

"Going to take awhile for everyone to accept that." Schmidt hiked his belt and shifted in his chair. "I saw what happened at the parade. Doc jumped in before I could get there. You okay?"

Sarah gave a short nod. "Just some bruising. I got shoved into the leader by someone behind me."

"Yeah, a couple of people told me that, but they either didn't know or wouldn't let on who did it. Scared, maybe. Seems kind of personal against you, huh?"

"Sure does." Sarah sneered. "The Klan leader's Morton Blanton. I recognized those fancy boots he wears."

"I figured that was him. You want me to have a word with him?"

"No, never mind. I'm leaving town, but not because of him. I need to find a new place to live. Somewhere people will let Faith and me be who we are."

Schmidt took a deep breath and let it out. "Don't know as such a place exists. People can be mighty mean to anyone they think is different."

"I aim to look, anyway." Sarah hesitated. "I'll be putting my property up for sale. You know anyone who's interested, tell them I'll see them when I get back."

She stood up and so did Schmidt. Sarah reached forward and shook his hand. "Thanks, Sheriff. And thanks for not judging Faith and me."

"Good luck, Miss Sarah."

When Faith got to school and heard about the Klan attack on their—Sarah's—home, she shook with fear and frustration. She had felt in her heart that the Klan would cause more trouble for them. And now they had. The news Joel had given her about some townspeople wanting Sarah dead made this latest development even more distressing. She wanted so badly to protect Sarah, but she felt helpless to do anything. She couldn't even go to Sarah and let her know of her support.

She didn't remember getting through the school day. By the time she got home, she was so disturbed that she stomped back and forth through the house, trying to rid herself of the excess energy that her rage built in her.

Benjamin came in and watched her for about half a minute. "Mama, are you all right?"

"No," she snapped and immediately regretted it. "I'm sorry. I'm just so worried about Aunt Sarah, and I don't know how to help her." She stopped and sat down at the table. "Everything seems to be piling up against her."

Benjamin sat next to her, and they hugged. When they moved away, Benjamin said, "I'm worried about her, too. I want to help protect her."

Faith had been so engrossed with her own feelings the past two days that she hadn't given much thought to Benjamin's. Should she tell him Joel's news? Perhaps she should, so he would understand why Faith had to keep Sarah away. "Benjamin, I have something I want to tell you, but you must not tell anyone else."

"I promise, Mama."

She looked into his trusting eyes. "Dr. Litchfield overheard some men planning to kill Aunt Sarah if she doesn't stay away from me. They think she's an evil influence on their schoolteacher."

His face paled. "Oh, Mama." The fear and frustration that crossed his expression mirrored Faith's feelings. "You'll have to make Aunt Sarah stay away."

"I don't know whether I can do that."

His shaky voice conveyed his disturbance. "But you have to, Mama, even if it hurts her feelings. I don't want Aunt Sarah to die."

"I'll try my best to keep that from happening."

Benjamin reached out, gave her another hug, and clung to her.

Faith thanked God that she had Benjamin at her side. But who did Sarah have? That question made her heart hurt even more.

Late that afternoon, Sarah rode to Leah and Phillip's home. She dismounted and wrapped Redfire's reins around a hitching post standing near the porch steps. She walked up the steps and knocked on the door.

"Welcome, Sarah. Come on in," Phillip said as he opened it. He gave her a hug and escorted her into the kitchen.

"Hi, Leah, Amy."

Supper was finished and Amy was washing the dishes, but Leah had already set Sarah a place at the table and was preparing a serving of food. Amy waved a soapy hand. "Hi, Aunt Sarah."

Sarah hadn't come here to eat, but the kitchen smells made her mouth water. Leah had a definite knack for cooking, no doubt about it. Sarah hadn't eaten well since Faith left. She just had no desire to go to the effort of making a hearty meal for herself.

"Hi, Sarah. Sit and have something to eat." Leah's tone left no room for arguing. She set a plate of sliced roast beef, green beans, mashed potatoes, and gravy into the stove to heat.

Sarah and Phillip sat down. "Are you all right?" Phillip asked. She grinned wryly. Phillip's question pointed up the troublesome events she was involved in.

She placed her hands on the table and drummed her fingers. "Yes, I am. I suppose you heard about the Klan attack last night."

Leah poured Sarah a cup of coffee and returned the pot to the stove. She sat next to Sarah and touched her hand, quieting it-"We did. Phillip heard some gossip about it. Your voice sounds calm, but your fingers give you away. Tell us what happened."

Sarah recounted the events. "Thank you for insisting I get a dog. I might not have heard them if Paddy hadn't wakened me."

"I thought as much." Leah turned toward Amy who had finished doing the dishes. "Go ahead and leave, Amy. I'll clean up the rest."

Amy went to Sarah, dipped her head, and kissed Sarah's cheek. "We love you, Aunt Sarah. Please be careful."

Sarah tapped her fingers on Amy's arm. "Thank you. Don't you worry your head about it. I'll be all right. You go on, now." Amy, who was the picture of her mother, left the room. What was she now, ten? She looked after her little brother, Brendan, like a second mother. Amy had Leah's big heart, too.

Leah retrieved the plate from the stove oven, put it in front of Sarah, and sat back down. "Thank goodness they didn't hurt you."

"Yes, or my property. Between the attempted burning of the cross and the parade fiasco, I think someone's intent on driving me away, rather than seriously harming me." Sarah sliced the roast beef into bite-size pieces and gulped several of them.

Phillip looked uncomfortable. "I saw what happened at the parade, but I was too far away to help you. By the time I pushed a little way through the crowd, Doc Litchfield was there. Do you have any idea who's after you?"

Sarah swallowed the beef and ate a quick forkful of beans mixed with mashed potatoes. "Morton Blanton was leading the Klan parade. I recognized his hand-tooled boots when he kicked me."

Phillip balled his hands into fists. "Just give me the word, and I'll make him sorry he picked on you." He waited while Sarah grabbed some more food.

She gave him a serious look. "Thanks, Phillip, but please stay out of it. It's bad enough he's turned a bunch of people against We. I don't want to be the cause of that happening to you or your family."

"You have something in mind," Leah said. "I can tell. What is it?"

"Yes, I have. I'm putting my house up for sale and leaving town. Now. First I'm going to visit Scott and Lindsay—and maybe Mother and Father—then I'm going to scout for another place to live."

Both Leah and Phillip looked dumbfounded. Silence reigned while Sarah cleaned up her plate and drank some coffee.

At last, Leah managed to speak. "I thought you were going to wait until Faith finished teaching."

"That's what we had planned. But this spate of violence made me change my mind. I don't see any way of stopping it without causing more." Sarah finished her coffee and shook her head no when Leah nodded toward her empty cup. "You know how Faith hates violence. The more it chases after me, the farther it pushes her away. I don't want to lose her, but I can't see a way to redeem myself in her eyes. My best bet seems to be to get away before it tears us apart."

Leah looked stricken. "Do you really think it could?"

Sarah rubbed the back of her neck. "It wouldn't even enter my mind except Joel Litchfield has been urging her to rethink our relationship. She has a tender spot in her heart for doctors. Her father was one."

"You're right about the tender spot," Phillip said. "I remember how her voice grew softer when she spoke of her father to me."

"Joel Litchfield's a handsome man, and I'll bet he can be pretty persuasive," Leah said. She rose, put Sarah's dirty dishes in the sink, and sat back down. "He's turned the head of every woman I know."

"Really?" Phillip's jaw was set.

Leah laughed and waggled a finger at him. "Not me, darlin'. You're my one-and-only man forever." She sobered. "You know there's one big thing we're overlooking." When Sarah and Phillip gave her questioning looks, she said, "Faith was married to a man, so the idea's not foreign to her. I have to admit, it does cause fewer social problems. No doubt the dear doctor has pointed that out to her." She gazed at Sarah. "I guess I'm not doing much to set your mind at ease, am I?"

Sarah grimaced. "You're not telling me anything I don't already know. I believe in Faith, but I can't seem to stop being jealous of Litchfield. Seeing him sniff around Faith...I can't stay and watch that without the danger of more violence happening. Only this time I would be to blame."

The three of them sat silently looking at each other.

Sarah slapped her hand on the table. "So, I'm leaving tomorrow. I want to ask a couple of favors."

"Anything," Leah and Phillip said together.

"First, I want you to look after the horses and watch Paddy for me until I get back."

"Of course we will," Leah said as Phillip nodded.

"Second, I'm going to put my house up for sale, and I wondered whether you two would keep an eye on it and show it to prospective buyers."

Another silence ensued while Leah and Phillip looked at each other. Phillip cleared his throat, and with a last glance at Leah, he said, "If you really mean to sell, we'd like to buy it."

It was Sarah's turn to be dumbfounded. "I...I...Wonderful! I'd love to have you living there."

"I'm so glad." Leah clapped her hands. "Phillip and I have talked about building a place like yours, but this is even better. I have lots of good memories from that house."

"So have I," Sarah said wistfully. "I'll bring a signed deed over tomorrow on my way to the train station." She was surprised when Leah jumped up, came over to her, and sat on her lap. Leah wound her arms around Sarah's neck and kissed her cheek.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you. You've done so many good things for me. I'll never be able to repay you. I still say Faith is foolish for not appreciating you." She kissed Sarah's cheek again, got up, and switched to Phillip's lap. "And thank you, too, sweetie." She kissed him on the mouth, and Phillip returned it with obvious enjoyment.

Recovering, he said to Sarah, "We'll need to work out a price and a payment plan."

"You figure out what you can live with, and we'll talk about that when I get back. Meantime, the house is yours. Use whatever furnishings you need for the moment, and pack the rest away. We'll take care of that later, too."

Leah grinned endearingly. "I hate to see you leave, Sarah, but I'm already planning on what will go where."

Sarah chuckled. "You'll let me stay with you when I get back, right?"

"Forever," Phillip said before Leah could get a word out.

Sarah rose. "That's settled then." Phillip and Leah stood, too. "I'll stop by here tomorrow with the puppy and the deed right before I leave town."

"Does Faith know you're going?" Leah asked.

"Not yet. Tomorrow's Saturday, no school. I'll tell her in the morning."

Phillip frowned. "How do you think she'll react?"

"Phillip," Sarah said with a droll smile, "I never know how that redhead is going to react. She sure keeps life interesting." Sarah hesitated. "But I won't be talked into changing my plans."

She left, and Leah and Phillip stood on the porch watching Redfire trot away.

"Sarah could be making some life-changing decisions," Leah said. "I hope she's not headed down the wrong path."

"Me, too." Phillip put an arm around Leah's shoulders and pulled her into a hug. "But Sarah's a remarkable woman. We're both living proof that she has a way of changing wrong paths into right ones."

The next morning, Sarah put on her work clothes and filled Paddy's food and water bowls. She went to the barn and mucked the stalls and fed and watered the horses. Then she returned to the house, disrobed, and washed up. Clean again, she brushed her hair until it shone.

She donned the trousers of her best navy blue suit and slipped on Faith's favorite tunic, the amber one that matched her eyes. After she tied her hair back with a piece of natural-colored rawhide, she shrugged into the suit jacket and debated whether to wear a coat. Faith had made her a hip-length, dark-brown canvas one with a lining of lamb's wool and lamb's wool trim, even on the four pockets.

The weather had been cooling its way toward winter, but today's bright sunlight lessened the chill. Disdaining the heavier outerwear for the moment, she decided she would wear it later, to Leah's.

She hadn't been able to eat. The qualms that arose about a possible confrontation with Faith made eating unthinkable. Rejecting the idea again, she squared her shoulders, put on her slouch hat, and left.

She arrived at the schoolteacher's house, dismounted, and tied Redfire to the hitching post. As she turned toward the door, Benjamin came out. When he spied her, he hopped down the couple of steps and ran to her. "Aunt Sarah." He hugged her and in a voice muffled by her shoulder said, "I've missed you so much."

Sarah's voice caught in her throat. "I've missed you, too." She took hold of his upper arms and backed him away from her. "Benjamin, I have something to tell you."

He fixed his large brown eyes on her and cocked his head, as Faith often did. "Something bad?"

She dropped her hands from his shoulders. "No, not bad, just...I'm selling the house and going away for a while."

"You're going away? And selling our house?" His face crumpled. Sarah could tell he was fighting against crying, and her heart went out to him.

"I'm going to visit your Uncle Scott and Aunt Lindsay, and my mother and father. Then I'm going to look around west of here. Aunt Leah and Uncle Phillip are buying the house, so you can visit it whenever you want to."

"But you won't be there."

"No, but I'll be back by the time school's out. Some people here have turned against us, and I want to locate a place where you and your mama and I can live together in peace."

His face cleared a bit. "Do you know where to look?"

"Not yet, but I'm sure I can find a good one. In the meantime, I want you to take care of Redfire for me, all right? I'm going by train, and I can hire a horse or get another one when I need to."

Benjamin shook his head no. "Aunt Sarah, Redfire brought you through the war. He's like a part of you. I'd feel a heap better if you had him with you. Please take him."

Benjamin's reaction, and his argument, caught Sarah by surprise. She knew how much he loved Redfire, and she hadn't given a second thought to leaving Redfire with him. But what he said made sense. After she visited her family, she would be traversing a lot of unfamiliar territory, and having a horse she could rely on would make everything easier and safer.

She nodded. "Maybe you should be a lawyer some day. You make a good argument. I will take Redfire with me. Thank you. One other thing. I have a new puppy named Paddy." Benjamin's face lit with interest. "He's staying with Aunt Leah and Uncle Phillip."

"What kind is he? What's he look like? Can I keep him here?"

"Whoa," Sara said with a laugh, "slow down. You can find all those answers by visiting him. I'd love to have you keep him, but that's between your mama and Aunt Leah." A curtain twitched at one of the windows, and Sarah's heart twitched along with it.

She pushed her knuckles against Benjamin's shoulder. "Now, let's say goodbye. I'm leaving later today, and I'd like some private time with your mama."

Benjamin stepped closer, and they embraced again. "Goodbye, Aunt Sarah. I love you."

"Goodbye. I love you, too." Sarah gave him an extra squeeze and stepped back.

As Benjamin loped away from the house, she stepped up to the front door and knocked. Moments later, the door opened and Faith beckoned her in. Sarah removed her hat, and they stood awkwardly in the living room.

"I need to talk with you," Sarah said. Faith gestured toward the sofa. Sarah sat and Faith chose a chair facing her. Faith had yet to say a word, and Sarah couldn't help contrasting this reception to the late-night one when Faith had jerked her through the back door into the kitchen and kissed her. Parts of her body grew warm just recollecting that.

But Faith's unreadable expression made the warmth short-lived. Her anger must still be simmering.

Sarah started twisting the brim of her hat that she held in her hands. Exasperated with her show of nervousness, she set the hat on the sofa.

"I came to tell you I've sold the house, and I'm leaving town. I'm going to visit Scott and Lindsay, and maybe Mother and Father, then I'm going to head west and look around."

Faith looked surprised and her chin lifted. "You've sold our house. Without saying a word to me about it."

Her statements sounded like accusations. Funny how she had always been able to do that.

"You knew we had to sell the house. Besides, as long as we kept it, it would be a target for the Klan. Leah and Phillip bought it yesterday."

"Leah and Phillip?" Faith cocked her head. "At least it's good to know that friends will be living there." She didn't pursue the subject.

"And I'm leaving town," Sarah said, "so you and Benjamin will be safer. As you pointed out, violence seems to be following me."

An odd expression crossed Faith's face, puzzling Sarah. "You're leaving us all alone?"

Sarah bolted up from her seat. "Dammit, Faith. Someone's trying to drive me out of town. Why, I can't say for sure. Maybe Morton Blanton is the cause and maybe not." She started to pace. "But these attacks are real, and I need to put a stop to them. What other answer is there, besides leaving?" She looked toward Faith. "Do you have any suggestions?"

Faith's expression changed slightly, and her voice sounded tentative. "Maybe if you went back to dressing like a woman, the attacks would stop."

Sarah came to a dead halt. Her eyes widened, and her heart hammered against her chest. "Do you really mean that?" She hesitated, then a thought struck her. Her voice took on a sneering tone. "Or are you quoting the good Dr. Litchfield?"

Faith reddened. "He did talk about it, but wearing a dress makes sense. Much of this uproar seems to have developed from what you wear. No one could accuse us of an unnatural relationship if they just thought of us as two women living together. And if you wore a dress, they wouldn't reproach you for trying to act like a man."

Sarah sank into one of the chairs and combed her fingers through the front of her hair. "If I wore a dress, it wouldn't change how I feel about you."

Now Faith got up and started pacing. "It wouldn't change how I feel about you, either. But it seems a small concession to other people's beliefs. I don't understand why you object."

Sarah bent her head and kneaded her scalp with both hands. After a moment, she stopped and looked up at Faith. "It would change how I feel about myself. I don't know how to explain it. Try turning it around. Would you dress like a man just because some people in town wanted you to?"

Faith halted her pacing and put her hands on her hips. "That's a silly question. No one would insist that a woman dress like a man. And they wouldn't insist that a man dress like a woman."

"And they wouldn't have any right to, or the opposite either. In my mind, they don't possess the right to insist that I dress like a man or to insist that I dress like a woman. I should be able to choose my own mode of dress, within the bounds of decency."

Faith shook her head as though disbelieving what Sarah was saying. "So, wearing what you choose to is more important than saving our relationship?"

If there had been a hole in the floor that went to the center of the earth, that's where Sarah's heart would have gone. Getting her next words out was a terrible struggle. Her voice sounded raspy. "Is our relationship in need of saving?"

Faith looked taken aback. She settled in the chair next to Sarah's. Her voice was quiet, but firm. "I'm not sure, Sarah. I've been frightened out of my wits. You shot Ed Putnam. You've been attacked. Benjamin's been attacked. So much has happened so quickly that my mind feels numb."

Sarah had heard this before, even from Leah, and she was impatient with it. She stood and picked her hat up from the sofa. "Well, you'll have plenty of time to think while I'm gone."

Faith looked up. That same odd expression that had puzzled Sarah earlier crossed her face. Was it relief? That possibility chilled Sarah. Did Faith want her out of the way because of Litchfield?

"Maybe," Faith said, "it's good that you're going away. Things might quiet down. Besides, I need time to sort things out. When are you leaving?"

"Now."

Faith rose and made a sharp intake of breath. "Now? Right now? I—"

Sarah grabbed her and kissed her, hard. Faith tried to pull away, but Sarah held her and kissed her until Faith began to respond.

Breathing heavily, Sarah broke off the kiss and muttered into Faith's ear, "When Joel Litchfield whispers into your ear, remember that you promised yourself to me, forever."

She shoved Faith away, slammed her hat onto her head, and stormed out.

Just as she passed the edge of town, her anger, frustration, and just plain hurt had built to the breaking point. She let out a ragged scream that set birds flying and dogs barking. Redfire missed a step. "Sorry, boy." Sarah slapped his shoulder affectionately and swiped her fingers across the tears that spilled down her cheeks. Then she just let them come.

Sarah unpacked the clothing and necessities she had put in a trunk and transferred them to saddlebags and a bedroll. She changed into workaday pants and boots, kept her tunic on, and added her suit to one of the bags. She took the saddlebags and bedroll outside and hefted them onto Redfire, giving him a bump with her shoulder when she finished. She planned to have him transported on the train for the largest part of her traveling.

She went back inside and took a last walk through the house, saying goodbye to it. In the bedroom, she ran her hand over the Love Quilt, but didn't stay any longer; it hurt her heart to remember the sweet times she and Faith had spent there. Were those times gone forever? Sarah couldn't accept that. She pushed the possibility away and continued through the house.

She lingered in her workroom and gazed at her drawing board and Benjamin's smaller one set up in the corner. She recalled preparing it especially for him when he and Faith had come to live with her. Some of his drawings were taped to the wall around his desk, and Sarah examined them with a critical eye. His work had progressed to the point where she deemed it to be of professional caliber. Maybe she would use some of his drawings in her next book. She smiled at that thought and held it to her as at least one positive notion she could hang onto.

Finished with her goodbyes, she put on her coat and hat. She crammed Paddy's bag of food into her pocket and scooped him up. "Time to go for a ride, Paddy." She nuzzled him for a moment and stuffed him into the front of her coat with his head sticking out. He leaned his head back and licked her chin, giving her a welcome chance to laugh. She opened another button, pushed him just a little lower, and walked outside. After locking the door, she mounted Redfire and headed toward the Showell home.

Phillip answered her knock. "So this is Paddy?" He scratched under Paddy's chin, and Sarah unbuttoned her coat and let the pup fall into his hands. "Is it safe to let him roam the house?"

"Yes, he knows to use the outside when he needs to go. He was pretty well trained when I got him."

Phillip set Paddy on the floor and watched as he began to nose around. "That's the best way to get a pet," he said with a laugh. Sarah handed him the bag of dog food and hung her coat in the closet. Just then Leah poked her head into the entryway.

"Come on in here," she said.

"Just let me put the dog food in the kitchen," Phillip said, "and I'll join you."

Leah and Sarah settled in the living room.

"Where are the kids?"

"Amy's next door at Greta's with Brendan. She didn't have the heart to watch you leave. She told me to tell you goodbye and good luck."

"Thank her for me. Poor kid, she worries too much about me.

"You're one of her nearest and dearest friends. All this trouble that's circulated about you has really disturbed her."

Phillip came in and sat in an overstuffed chair.

Sarah reached into her pants pocket and pulled out the deed for her house. She handed it to Phillip. "Here's the deed, all signed over to you and Leah. You can move in whenever you want, and I'd like you to put my things in storage, please."

"Sarah," Phillip said. Mutely, he waved a hand.

"Your home," Leah said, "is a big item to put on the list of things we'll never be able to thank you for. Don't you want a deposit?"

"No. Like I said, we can settle up when I get back."

Leah pursed her lips. "How did things go with Faith?"

Sarah stiffened. "Not so well. I think Joel Litchfield's having too much influence on her."

"I do see him with her pretty often in town," Phillip said.

"Yet I can't go near her for any length of time. How fortunate for him. His latest tack is that I've brought all this trouble upon us because of the way I dress. He says I should dress like a woman."

"What?" Leah looked ready for a fight. "He can't tell you how to dress. You didn't agree with that, did you?"

"No." Sarah fidgeted in her chair. "I think he realized I wouldn't, and he wanted to drive another wedge between Faith and me."

"I know you're upset," Leah said, "but dwelling on it won't change anything. You'll just have to trust in Faith's love for you."

"That's not very comforting when we fight every time we see each other."

Paddy wandered in and played with Leah's feet. She picked him up and settled him on her lap. "Paddy likes his new home just fine," she said as she stroked his back.

She looked toward Sarah. "Fighting's not that terrible. Faith has pretty strong opinions, and so do you." She glanced at Phillip who had given a small snort. "You know that as well as anyone, my love," she said to him.

Phillip grinned. "You're a strong-minded woman yourself."

Leah smacked his thigh. "Be that as it may, Sarah and Faith are the focus here. Sarah, how do you feel about Faith's reactions? Do you think she's turned away from you?"

Sarah answered slowly. "I think she still loves me. At least she says she does. I want to get started as soon as possible on our life away from here. That's one reason why I want to search out some likely areas for us to settle. That way, as soon as school's out, we'll already have some places to consider."

"Sounds like a good idea to me," Phillip said. "What are you going to do about money? You don't want to keep a lot of cash on you."

"That's not a problem. Scott puts my share of earnings from the Coulter Foundry in a fund for Jessica, but he can easily divert some to me if I need any. We can get that set up when I visit. If I run low, I can just wire him for more."

"Wire us, too, occasionally," Phillip said. "Or send us some letters. We need to know that you're safe."

"Maybe this separation will be good," Leah said. "You've been together for four years, but if Faith doesn't want to stay with you, it's better to find out now."

Sarah didn't want to think about that possibility. She stood up abruptly. "I should get going."

Phillip stood, too. "I'll get the buggy and meet you at your place as soon as you drop off Redfire."

"Oh, I forgot. Benjamin said he'd be happier if I kept Redfire with me. Said I'd be safer. After I thought about it, I agreed. So I won't need you to take me to the train station, but thank you for offering."

"You know," Phillip said, "I'll do whatever I can for you. Benjamin's a bright young man. I'd be proud to have him for a son."

Leah put her arms around Paddy and arose. "Just think, Phillip, you almost did. Then Sarah entered the picture and freed you up for me to catch."

"That's right. See, Sarah, you've been in the middle of some good things, too."

"I have. I'll keep those in mind when I'm feeling low." She gave Phillip a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Goodbye. I'll miss you."

"Goodbye, Sarah."

Leah stepped forward and lifted Paddy toward Sarah. "Tell Paddy goodbye, too. We'll take good care of him, and once we move into your house, it'll be easy to watch over Drummer."

Sarah leaned down to Paddy. She gave him a kiss on the head and scratched behind his ears as he licked at her face. "Goodbye, Paddy. I'm leaving you in good hands. Oh, that reminds me." She straightened up. "I told Benjamin about Paddy, and he asked if he could take him. I told him to get that settled between you and Faith. I hope you don't mind."

"If he wants Paddy," Leah said, "and Faith allows it, I'll be glad to have him raise the pup. Boys and dogs go together. Besides, he deserves it for giving up Redfire." Leah set Paddy on the floor and raised up to give Sarah a hug and kiss. "Please take care of yourself." Tears glistened in her eyes. "You're part of our family, you know."

"Your family's part of my family, too. Please look after Faith and Benjamin for me."

"We'll do that. Goodbye, darlin'."

Chapter Seven

1870—West Virginia

Sarah recognized that the train was approaching Wheeling, West Virginia, which lay between the Ohio River and the mountains. Wheeling had originally been part of Virginia, but the area it resided in, and a large portion of land south of it, had become the separate free state of West Virginia during the War Between the States. Sarah's old home was in Fairmont, several hours' train ride below Wheeling.

She leaned her head against the cushioned back of the train seat. Excitement fluttered through her at the prospect of seeing her brother, Scott, and sister-in-law, Lindsay. She hadn't seen them or the children for nearly two years. Prescott Coulter, III, would be eight now, and Jessica would be five. Jessica. A child conceived in violence.

Sarah tried to switch her thoughts to other avenues, but it wasn't working. Every time Jessica came to mind, the terrible ordeal Sarah had suffered replayed in her memory. She felt again the repugnance, the horror, the pain of the assault by three Union soldiers who had their way with her, shot her in the head, and left her for dead. How could she ever get beyond that? How could she ever forget that the innocent child she bore was a result of that depravity?

She recalled how appalled she had been when Lindsay and Scott wanted to adopt the baby and raise her as their own. She understood their thinking. Jessica, after all, was family, but Sarah, for a long while, could barely stand to look at her. Jessica's very existence hammered Sarah with memories she longed to forget. People said time is a great healer. That hadn't been the case with Sarah so far.

She turned her thoughts to pleasanter memories. She looked forward to seeing her twin brother, Scott. They had grown up with the Showell brothers, Phillip and his older brother, Theo. Now Theo was the manager at Coulter Foundry, the business started by Prescott Coulter, Sr., and handed over to Scott and Sarah on their twenty-first birthday. Theo had been the colonel in charge of Sarah's work as a Union spy, and they enjoyed a mutual respect and admiration.

Sarah was excited about seeing Lindsay, Scott's wife, a charming black-haired, blue-eyed woman who came just to Sarah's shoulder. A special part of Sarah's heart had been owned by Lindsay almost from the moment they first met. Lindsay was truly a sister in every good meaning of the word. Sarah would welcome the opportunity to talk with her about Faith.

Sarah looked down at her attire. One thing she wasn't sure of was what acceptance she would get from her family when they saw her dressed in men's clothing. She was pretty sure Lindsay would take her as she was, but Scott was a different story. Sarah gave a self-deprecatory grin. Scott would probably throw a fit, try to tell her what to do, then settle huffily for whatever Sarah told him. He never had been able to bend her to his will; she was the one who bent him.

When the conductor came through, Sarah asked him to let her know when they reached Fairmont. He agreed, and she emptied her mind of its activities, closed her eyes, and slept.

Sarah threw her saddlebags over her shoulder and stepped down onto the nearly empty station platform. Immediately, she saw Lindsay waving at her. She strode forward, dropped the bags, and tapped her arms around Lindsay's tiny waist. With a jerk, Sarah lifted her into the air and kissed her cheek. Lindsay had tilted her head back, or Sarah would have gotten a face full of bonnet.

Giggling, Lindsay kissed Sarah in return. "Why, Miss Sarah, you do have a way of sweeping a girl off her feet."

"I wish." Sarah laughed along with her. She set Lindsay back down. "It's so good to see you. It seems like forever since we've been together."

"It does, doesn't it? Come along, the carriage is over there." Lindsay pointed.

"I brought Redfire. I might visit Mother and Father next, and you know they're not close to a train station. I'll have to ride from the nearest station to their house."

"I should have realized you had Redfire when I saw the saddlebags."

Sarah picked up her bags and looked down the platform. "He's being unloaded now." She and Lindsay walked to the ramp, and Sarah showed her ticket and was given Redfire's reins. She led him to the waiting carriage and tied him to the back.

The carriage driver tipped his hat. He pulled down an attached folding step and assisted Lindsay into the passenger area. He stowed the saddlebags in the back, and Sarah climbed in. They settled down as the carriage started to move.

"We get to enjoy the luxury of a rented driver?" she said to Lindsay. "Scott couldn't come?"

"I told him I wanted to meet you, so he stayed home with the children."

"How is everyone?"

"Scott's been fighting a cold, but otherwise, we're all fine. You haven't mentioned Faith or Benjamin," Lindsay said. "Is everything all right?"

Sarah cleared her throat. "That's a long story. One I'd like to discuss with you after I've settled in and we have some time alone."

Lindsay gave her a questioning look. "I can't wait to hear it."

The carriage stopped at the Coulter residence. The driver put down the step and gave Lindsay a hand out. As Sarah exited, he retrieved her bags from the back.

Sarah reached in her pocket, but Lindsay touched her arm. "It's already taken care of. I paid him ahead of time."

"I'll take your bags to the door, sir," the man said and proceeded to do that. He laid them on the cement entryway.

Sarah pointed down the street. "Will you take my horse to the livery stable, too? His name's Redfire."

His face lit up when Sarah handed him a silver dollar. "Thank you, sir. I'll take good care of him." He tipped his hat and returned to the carriage.

Sarah grinned inwardly as Lindsay removed the house key from her purse and handed it over. But before Sarah could use it, Lindsay stayed her arm.

She made a gesture toward Sarah's trousers. "You always dress as a man, now?"

"It's who I am, Lindsay. I know very well that I'm a woman, but I choose to dress like a man. Does that bother you?"

Lindsay grinned. "Not a bit. You seem perfectly natural to me. But Scott might have something to say about it."

"He can say what he pleases. He won't change my mind." Lindsay let go of Sarah's arm, and she raised the key and unlocked the door. They entered the house, removed their coats and hats, and hung them in the closet. "Scott?" Lindsay called.

"I'm in here." His voice came from the drawing room. Lindsay and Sarah followed the sound.

Scott was sitting on the sofa with a newspaper laid out on the table in front of him. He rose as they entered the room and walked toward Sarah. "Sarah, I'm so glad to see you. I've missed you." He embraced her, and they gave each other a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"I missed you, too," Sarah said. She stepped back a little and half-circled his upper arms with her hands. "I heard you weren't feeling well, Scott, but you look good. A little trimmer than last time, but that suits you."

Scott lifted her hands from his arms and moved back. He turned his head, quickly pulled a handkerchief from his trousers Pocket, and coughed into it. "Sorry about that. I'm having the devil of a time getting rid of this cough." His gaze traveled up and down Sarah's form as he replaced the handkerchief. "You're dressing like a man, I see. Isn't it enough to be living in sin with a woman without publicly flaunting your difference from polite society?"

"Scott!" Lindsay said. "Sarah's our guest."

"Let him go," Sarah said with a slight shrug. "He feels a need to judge, I suppose."

Scott snorted. "Society's the one judging you, no matter how you try to ignore it."

Sarah made a show of gazing around the room. "I don't see any society here." She looked back to Scott. "Have you nominated yourself as their spokesman?"

Scott's face reddened. "I'm just trying to get my sister to act like a sister, not a brother. Take a look at yourself. You're ridiculous."

Sarah gave him a shove and was surprised when he staggered backward onto the sofa. Her voice filled with sarcasm. "If you can open your mind for a moment, let me ask you to imagine something. Suppose for some unnamed reason, you decided to put on a dress. Would that make you a woman?"

Lindsay, her hand to her mouth, gazed from one to the other as they spoke.

Scott waved a hand in dismissal. "Of course not."

"Wearing trousers doesn't make me a man, either. I'm just a woman who likes to wear trousers. You know I always preferred them to dresses. And I always will, no matter what you say or think. So you can continue to harp on it while I'm here, or let it go, and we can enjoy each other's company. Which will it be?"

Scott huffed a breath. "It's your reputation at stake here, not mine. Do as you please." He stood and said, "The children have been wanting to see you." He went through the kitchen to the back door, and Sarah heard him call out. Moments later, Pres and Jessica came running in, with Scott following them. They stopped just short of Sarah.

"Hello, Aunt Sarah," Pres said in a serious tone. He had the same chestnut brown hair and amber eyes that Scott and Sarah had. Jessica looked like the twins, but she had black hair and blue eyes. She peered at Sarah with an uncertain expression. Of course, Jessica probably didn't even remember Sarah. Sarah had last visited when she was three. Faith and Benjamin had been with her then, and Pres and Jessica had followed Benjamin around like little puppy dogs. To Benjamin's credit, he never complained. In fact, he played tag and ball with the two younger children and helped to keep them occupied.

Sarah knelt on one knee. "Don't I get a hug?"

Pres grinned broadly and threw his arms around her neck. Sarah wrapped one arm around him and squeezed. She extended the other arm toward Jessica. "Pres, tell your sister I'm friendly, will you?"

Pres looked back and laughed. "Come on, Jessie. It's Aunt Sarah, Papa's sister."

Jessica moved a little closer. Sarah captured her hand and tugged gently until she could put an arm around her. She hugged them both then let them go. "Do you two remember Benjamin?"

"I do," Pres said quickly and Jessica nodded.

"He asked me to say hello to you. He couldn't come this time because of school."

"I have school, too," Jessica said.

Sarah looked at Lindsay, who said, "She and Pres have been playing school for a couple of years, so I took her for a test, and they put her in first grade."

"Can you read?" Sarah asked.

"Yes, sir."

Sarah's mouth turned up on one side, and Pres said, "Jessie, you mean 'yes, ma'am.' Aunt Sarah's a girl, like you and Mama."

Sarah pulled her tied-back hair around to the front. "See. I'm a girl who wears trousers."

Jessica giggled. "Yes, ma'am." Jessie touched the scars on Sarah's face and leaned closer, studying them. "Why is your skin wrinkled?"

"I got burned a long time ago. Before you were born." Sarah touched the blaze in her hair. "It made my hair white, too."

Jessica looked at her with wide eyes. "I'm sorry."

Sarah swallowed audibly, but she couldn't overcome the spasming of her throat.

"Children," Lindsay said, "go back outside now, and I'll call you for supper." The two hurried out.

Sarah struggled to stand, and Lindsay put a hand under her elbow and helped her up. "Your leg still bothers you, I see."

"Sometimes. Sitting on a train for almost two days didn't help. It stiffened up."

"Speaking of sitting on a train, you probably want to wash up before dinner. You have your old room, as usual."

"Thanks." Sarah picked up the saddlebags and went upstairs. The recollection that Faith had been with her last time she visited hung heavy on her heart. But she was determined to enjoy this brief time with Scott and Lindsay. Especially Lindsay.

The next morning, Scott went off to work and the children to school. Sarah helped Lindsay clean the kitchen after breakfast, and now they sat at the table drinking coffee.

"So," Lindsay said with no introduction, "what's going on with Faith?"

"Let me start at the beginning." Sarah told the whole story, going back to when she met Noah and offered him and his family work and a place to live. She explained all their problems with the Ku Klux Klan and the shooting of one of them, who turned out to be the storekeeper. She told of Faith's anger at her for putting Benjamin at risk while saving Noah.

Lindsay's face turned ashen when Sarah told of the two boys who kidnapped her and Benjamin and what had become of Hiram Blanton.

"He died?" Lindsay gasped. "How terrible."

"Yes, it was." Sarah could still smell the horrific odor of burning flesh. "That drove a wedge between Faith and me. She abhors violence, and I always seemed to be in the thick of it."

Sarah went on to tell of Dr. Litchfield's attempts to turn Faith against her, and her anxiety that he might have made some inroads.

Lindsay smoothed her hand along Sarah's forearm. "I know you're hurting, and I hate Joel Litchfield for any part he plays in it."

Sarah felt a lopsided grin making its way up her cheek. "That makes three of us."

"Three? You and I and..."

"Leah. And she's a pretty good judge of character."

"And Faith isn't?"

"You know Faith. She always sees some good in everyone. And Litchfield treats her well. He's handsome and charming, and he's a doctor. What wouldn't she like?"

"That he's trying to push you out of her life. Can't she see that?"

Sarah sighed. "Apparently not. I'm scared to death that his influence will turn her away from me."

"Is it wise to leave her alone with him?"

"I can't stay so close to her and not be with her. It's driving me crazy. And I can't force her to choose me over Litchfield. That's something Faith has to decide on her own." Sarah buried her head in her hands. "Something that really troubles me is that she seemed relieved that I was leaving, almost like she wanted me out of the way. I don't even want to speculate on why that might be."

Lindsay got up, moved behind her, and kneaded her shoulders and neck. "Let's hope you misunderstood her reaction. That's enough about Faith for now. Let's eat some dinner and take a buggy ride. It's beautiful outside."

"That sounds good to me."

Late that afternoon, the adults sat in the living room while the children played on the floor. Pres had toy lead soldiers and horses lined up on opposing sides and was making battle sounds as he moved them closer toward each other. Jessie lay on her stomach, drawing with crayons on the blank page of a book.

Scott waved for Sarah's attention and pointed toward Jessie's drawing. Sarah leaned forward in her chair, donned her spectacles, and tilted her head for a better view. When she saw the drawing more clearly, she slipped from the chair and lay on the carpet next to Jessie. Engrossed in her work, Jessie made no notice of Sarah until Sarah put a finger on one of the three figures Jessie had drawn. "Is that me?" Sarah asked.

"Yes, ma'am." Jessie had portrayed Scott and Lindsay on the sofa and Sarah in the chair. Sarah and Scott looked almost alike, but were identifiable by the colors of what they wore. Under Scott and Lindsay, she had printed "Papa" and "Mama," but nothing was printed under Sarah.

Jessie looked sideways at Sarah. Sarah caught her breath, struck by the look she had seen in her own mirror on occasion. Jessie examined Sarah's face. "Wait, I have to fix this," she said and then drew spectacles on Sarah's picture. "If you'll spell your name for me, I'll put it right here." She pointed to the empty space below the figure.

"All right." Sarah propped her arms up and rested her chin on her hands. "It starts with 'S.'"

Jessie pressed her lips together and shook her head. "Aunt doesn't start with 'S.'"

Sarah heard a soft chuckle from Scott, and she tried valiantly to smother her own. "You're right. The first letter is 'A.'" She continued itemizing the letters until Jessie finished. Sarah marveled at the detail in a five-year-old's drawing. "How did you color your Papa's and my eyes?"

Jessie picked two crayons from the cigar box they were stored in. She waved one of them. "First I colored them brown." She put down that crayon and waved the second one. "Then I colored them yellow." She laid the yellow crayon next to the brown. "It looks pretty good." She glanced at Sarah. "Doesn't it?"

"Yes, it does. The whole drawing looks good."

Scott spoke up. "I told her she takes after you, and I'm glad she does. I remember how upset I used to get that you could draw better than I could."

Sarah put her arms down and glanced back at him. "And I recall that you scribbled over a couple of mine once."

Scott rubbed one ear. "Yes, and you hit me in the side of the head so hard I saw stars. I never scribbled over another one."

Pres stopped his army battle and looked at his father. "Aunt Sarah hit you? Did you hit her back?"

"I have to admit Aunt Sarah only hit me when I deserved it. And no, I never hit her back. Boys don't hit girls, no matter what. You know that."

Pres picked up a horse and turned back to his army game. Sarah almost missed his mumbled remark. "Sometimes girls deserve it, too."

Sarah's gaze met Scott's. He nodded his head and mouthed the words, "I agree." She reached to the side and yanked on his pant leg. They both grinned broadly at each other. Sarah looked at Lindsay, and she was grinning, too.

Jessie tugged Sarah's sleeve. "Draw something, Aunt Sarah." She turned to a fresh page in the book and scooted it and the cigar box over in front of Sarah.

"What do you want me to draw?"

Lindsay said, "Draw Jessie."

"Yes, draw me. Make me come to life."

For a moment, Sarah was taken aback. When she drew something that really pleased her, she used to say that she had made the scene come to life. No doubt Scott had told Jessie the same. But the double meaning that phrase had for her and Jessie struck her dumb.

Jessie sat up, moved to a spot in front of Sarah, and crossed her legs beneath her. "Please," she said when Sarah hesitated.

Sarah forced a grin. "All right." She searched the box and pulled out a charcoal pencil. "I'll draw you, then I'll draw Pres, and you can color the drawings in."

Pres crawled closer. "I want to color my own."

Sarah smiled inwardly, recognizing the sibling rivalry. "You can do that," she said as she put charcoal to paper.

Lindsay sat on the edge of the bed while Sarah finished packing her saddlebags. "Must you leave so soon? We've barely had time to talk, and you never did get a chance to visit Theo's family."

"I'm sorry, Lindsay. I'm just too fidgety to stay longer. Please Wake my excuses to them."

"Will you be going down to see Mother and Father Coulter?"

Sarah stuck the last item in the bag and sighed. "I've given it a lot of thought, but I don't think so. Not this time around. I expect Mother would raise Cain about my trousers. Scott's reaction drove that home to me, and I've had about all the rejection I can handle right now."

"I understand, and my heart goes out to you, Sarah."

Lindsay stood and gave her a hug. "I'll pray that things work out between you and Faith. You're a good person, Sarah. You don't deserve all this commotion."

Sarah hugged her back. "Keep saying that in your prayers, please. I think a reminder's in order."

Lindsay chuckled and stepped away. "Be careful on your journey."

"I will." Sarah shouldered her saddlebags and walked away with Lindsay following her. When she reached the front door, she turned and gave Lindsay another hug. "Say goodbye to Scott and the children for me."

"God bless you, Sarah."

Sarah waved and headed for the livery stable.

Chapter Eight

1871—Wyoming Territory and Missouri

Christmas passed and so did New Year's. Sarah had been gone for two months. Seemed like two years. She tugged and shrugged the poncho into a new position, but nothing helped. She'd been riding Redfire across the plains for seven hours, accompanied by ever-increasing ice-cold rain, blown in her face by a strong wind. Low-hanging clouds dimmed the late afternoon and gave the rippling grassland the appearance of ghostly shrouds sweeping back and forth.

Mountains rose ahead of her, and a yearning for their shelter filled her. A downpour had developed an hour ago, and water streamed from her hat brim. Her hair and clothing were soaked. Even her boots were soaked, and her feet felt damp.

Lights appeared through the gloom ahead of her, and she sighed with as close to gratitude as she could muster in her condition. Soon she arrived in the muddy streets of a small town, its tents and buildings huddled together at the foot of a mountain. When she got close to two store windows, she saw that one displayed work Pants, shirts, and clodhoppers and the other displayed shovels, Picks, sledgehammers, and gold pans. A mining town, maybe?

Just as she drew even with a livery stable, she saw a sign over a large, stone building that said "Kuster Hotel." A little beyond that was a tent that she saw men going into and coming out of. Probably a bar. Just what she needed. She pulled Redfire up at the stable and dismounted. After making arrangements for him to be taken care of, bedroll and all, she threw the wet saddlebags over her shoulder and headed for the tent.

When she got inside, the first thing she saw and felt was a huge Franklin fireplace blazing away. Drawn like a moth, she walked toward the warmth. She stopped at a three-foot-square table next to the fireplace and looped her saddlebags over the back of one of four chairs that stood at the table. She peeled off her hat and her poncho and laid the poncho across another chair. After giving her hat a hard shake, she put it back on her head, took off her wet coat, hung it on a chair back, and looked around. Near her sat six similar tables, four occupied by men playing cards. Just past them, a bar that ran the length of the tent had a diverse group of twelve men leaning against it. A short, muscular man with a long mustache tended the bar. A sandwich menu was pinned to the wall behind him, next to two shelves of booze. Eight oil lamps hanging around the tent frame threw just enough light to scatter the dimness beyond the fireplace.

The bartender and the others turned her way and watched as she approached the bar. "Hello there," the bartender said. "I see you got caught in one of our rare rainstorms." He set a bottle of rye whiskey and a glass on the bar. "Five dollars."

Sarah turned the scarred side of her face toward him. She pitched her voice to a guttural tone. "Two dollars," she said, "and I want a couple of beef sandwiches included."

He hesitated, then grinned and nodded. "Make it three, and you got a deal." Sarah pulled a bag of coins from her pocket, picked out three silver dollars, and threw them on the bar. She put the bag away, picked up the bottle and glass, and headed back to her table. She stopped a moment and turned halfway around. "What is this place?" she said in the same hard tone. "And where is it?"

"Laramie," the bartender said.

"Wyoming Territory," another man answered.

"Much obliged." Sarah sat at the table and poured herself half a glassful of liquor. She drank that down without stopping-then poured another glassful and sipped at it. The liquor spread its warmth within her, and after eating the two sandwiches delivered to her by the bartender, she began to feel passably comfortable.

Two months since she had seen Faith and the others. A lot of her traveling had been away from towns or settlements, and particularly away from Indian country. She sent a telegram to Leah and Phillip when she could, letting them know she was all right. She continued her habit of writing once a month to her parents and to Scott and Lindsay. Occasionally, she sent a letter to Faith with tales of her wanderings and likely places for them to settle. She hoped the letters would encourage Faith to keep Joel Litchfield at a distance.

Sarah kept sipping at the liquor. Every time she thought of Litchfield being near Faith, her insides hurt. She couldn't forget that Faith had been married to a man, and that she very nearly married Phillip. What if Litchfield convinced her that she'd be happier and safer—and more moral—married once again to a man? Sarah was sure Litchfield was using Benjamin's safety and lack of a father as arguing points. Damn him and his sweet-talking ways.

She scowled and reached unsteadily for the bottle to pour another drink. Her arm hit the nearly empty bottle, and it rocked back and forth. Just before it toppled, one of the card players who had left the game caught the bottle as it fell from the table. "Whoa," he said. "Don't want to waste good liquor."

Sarah felt dizzy, and she watched him with bleary eyes.

He looked at the bottle and set it back on the table. "Not much left to waste," he said and sat down across from her. "My name's Mel Gunther." He looked intently at her. "You don't look too good."

Sarah's head lurched down, and she yanked it back up. She tried to stand and would have fallen if Gunther hadn't grabbed her. "You need some sobering up, friend," he said. "Let's get out of here."

Sarah couldn't get her arms and legs to cooperate with her wishes. Numbly, she let Gunther grab her belongings and lead her outside. At least the rain had stopped. "You got a horse?" he asked.

She pointed a shaky hand toward the livery stable. "Redfire," she said. Her lips moved all over the place, and she couldn't get anything else out.

"My rig's in there, too," Gunther said. He half-carried Sarah into the stable and helped her into the back of his wagon among some bags. He laid her coat over her and tossed Redfire's saddlebags and her poncho in next to her. He put a dry blanket over her. "I'll get your horse and take you both home with me. You're too damn drunk to stay here alone." He talked to the stableman, who put the bridle on Redfire and fetched the saddle and blanket. With those added to the wagon's cargo, Gunther tied Redfire's reins to the back of his wagon, got on the wagon seat, and started off.

Sarah didn't remember much of the journey after that except the one time she dragged herself to the top of the wagon side and vomited until she thought her toes would come up, too. Could have used some of that rain now, she thought as she tried to spit the foul taste out of her mouth. She did the best she could, then fell back and passed out.

Mel's sister, Rusty, had been asleep on the sofa. As soon as she heard the wagon pull in, she donned a coat and went outside to help unload the staples Mel had purchased.

"I got a little more than you reckoned for, sis," he said. He indicated the back of the wagon with his thumb and led Rusty behind it. She gaped at the body lying there.

"Who's that?"

"Some fella traveling through." While Mel explained, he and Rusty got the man out of the wagon. With one on each side of him, they walked him into the house. "He came into the bar soaking wet and sat at a table all by hisself, drinking. He got so drunk he couldn't even stand up."

"Set him on the sofa," Rusty said, "and we can take those muddy boots off. Lots of drunks around. Why'd you bring this one home?" She removed her coat and the visitor's hat, accepted Mel's coat and hat, and hung them on pegs next to the door. Mel unhooked the man's holster belt and handed it to Rusty to hang there, too.

"He flashed a bag of money, when he bought a bottle. I figured I'd better get him out of there before someone stole it from him."

Rusty gave her brother a smile. "That was good of you."

When they finished with the boots, Rusty said, "Put him in my bed, and get these damp clothes off of him." She helped steer the man into her room. With one hand she pulled off the quilt, and they laid him on the bed.

"There you go, fella," Mel said.

"I'll get some extra blankets out of the loft." Rusty left and climbed the ladder to the storage loft in the top of the cabin. Halfway down the ladder, blankets in her arm, she heard Mel give a shout.

"Rusty, come here! We got a surprise."

She hurried into the room and gave a gasp. "A woman?" She dropped the two blankets at the foot of the bed and rushed to cover the woman with the quilt. Mel lifted the heap of damp clothes and set them in a corner. Rusty glanced toward him and narrowed her eyes. "Did you know she was a woman?"

"No! I should have guessed when he...she...didn't show any whiskers, but I didn't notice. And she's a lot bigger than you. Bigger than me, too. I never thought of her maybe being a woman." He studied their guest. "Look past those scars, and she's kind of pretty." He gave his sister an impudent smile. "This could be interesting. Don't say I never brought you nothing."

Rusty mock-glared at him. "Stop that. I'll find my own woman."

Mel snickered. "Good luck. There sure ain't many to choose from around here. For either of us."

Rusty's gaze locked on the woman's face. And there ain't many who look so good, she thought. Rusty knew of a couple of women who wore men's clothes, but none of them could hold a candle to this one. She lifted the quilt a mite and touched the woman's bare arm. "She feels warm now." She shook out one of the blankets and laid it on top of the quilt. "Let her sleep. She should be sober in the morning."

"I have to get the rig into the barn and take care of Brownie," Mel said. "Her horse, too. I picked it up from the livery stable. She said he's called Redfire."

Rusty gathered the damp clothes, and on their way out of the room, Mel poked her shoulder. "Dark-brown hair mixed with gold. I didn't get a good look at her eyes. Too dim in the bar. Gives you something to look forward to."

Rusty stuck her tongue out at him. She was used to Mel's tormenting. Typical brother stuff. But he was always good to her. A good man all around. How many people would have taken this woman home to protect her money?

"Maybe she won't stay long," Rusty said. "Maybe she'll get sweet on you, instead of me. Maybe she won't get sweet on either of us. And maybe we won't even like her. Don't jump to conclusions." But Rusty was already jumping.

Early Saturday evening, Faith answered the knock on the door. "Hello, Joel, please come in." He entered and Faith hung his hat and coat on the clothes rack. They walked into the living room. Faith had been reading in the chair next to the lamp table. She picked the book up from the seat, laid it on the table, and sat. Joel took the chair opposite her.

He looked around. "Benjamin's out?"

"He's staying overnight with the Hurley family."

"Umm, yes, Charles is a good man." He spoke as though Faith needed his approval of the Hurleys. As much as Faith liked Joel, she found his occasional touch of arrogance somewhat annoying. But he was charming in many other ways, and so far, she'd been able to ignore her discomfort with it.

Joel put his elbows on the arms of the chair and steepled his fingers under his chin. "I've kept to your wishes about calling on you only once or twice a week to take you to dinner or just to visit, but I have to tell you, I'm a lonely man the other nights." He put his arms down and leaned forward. "Don't you get lonely, too?" The question caught Faith off guard, and she answered without thinking. "Yes, I do." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to recall them. She realized her answer had nothing to do with Joel, and she didn't mean to mislead him. The mention of loneliness cut her to the core, but she was lonely for Sarah.

Joel stood and stepped toward her. He reached for her hands, and when she placed them in his, he pulled her to her feet. Still holding her hands, he said, "I want to marry you, Faith. I can take care of you and Benjamin and keep you safe. As my wife, you'd be completely accepted and no one would dare speak against you."

"I'm very honored, Joel, but marrying anyone hadn't crossed my mind. I need to think about this."

He dropped Faith's hands, embraced her, and kissed her. Faith closed her eyes and tried to respond, but Sarah's face and the feel of her body against Faith's came to mind. She opened her eyes and gently, but firmly, pushed Joel away. "I'm sorry, Joel. I'm not ready for this yet. I need more time."

Faith thought she saw a flicker of anger cross his face, but he said, "I'm disappointed, to say the least, but I'll grant your request."

"Thank you. Perhaps you should go now." Faith walked to the clothes rack and handed him his coat. Joel shrugged into it, and Faith gave him his hat. He donned it and gazed into her eyes. "Remember what I said. I mean to marry you when you come to your senses." Faith opened the door and he left.

She leaned back against the wall and felt almost giddy. When I come to my senses? I didn't know I'd misplaced them. Then she grew more sober. But of course I have. My mind feels like a whirling dervish, and I don't know how to stop it.

When Sarah woke, she didn't want to open her eyes. Her head hurt. It more than hurt; it pounded so hard she thought her eyeballs would burst out of their sockets. Her leg throbbed, too, but the pain in her head overshadowed it by far.

She felt along her body. Only her long underpants. Everything else was gone. A couple of blankets covered her, and her head lay °n a pillow. She remembered the storm and being in a bar and drinking from a bottle of liquor. The way she felt, she must have drunk the whole blasted bottle.

A man had sat down at her table. Said his name. She couldn't recall it. He helped her into a wagon and tied Redfire to the back.

She remembered being awfully sick, but that was the last she could bring to mind. Where the hell was she? Where had he taken her?

She edged her eyes partway open. Hazy daylight. So wherever she was, she most likely had been here the balance of the night. She noticed a small window across from the side of the bed and groaned at what she glimpsed through it. Snow. Heavy snow. Wherever she was, if that kept up, she wasn't likely to leave soon.

A tap sounded at the door, and Sarah grunted an attempt at a word. The door opened, and a woman entered. Sarah squinted. She looked to be in her early twenties. She was slim, and her light-brown, not quite blonde, hair had a reddish tint. When she got closer, Sarah noted her hazel eyes held a friendly glint.

"Hi," the woman said, in a soft tone. "My name's Rusty Gunther."

Sarah cleared her throat, but her voice still came out sounding husky. "I'm Sarah-Bren Coulter. Call me Sarah. Where on earth am I, and how did I get here?"

"You're in the Medicine Bow Mountains, Snowy Range, in Wyoming Territory, about thirty miles from Laramie. My brother brought you home from the Big Tent in Laramie last night. You'd had too much to drink, and he was worried someone might steal your money."

Sarah's lips twitched in a small grin at the hurried flow of the literal answer she'd received. She squeezed her eyes closed and opened them wider, but that didn't help her headache. "That was kind of him."

"He's a kind man. I'll bring you some headache salts. Can I get you anything else? You're welcome to stay in bed and rest if you want to."

Rusty was staring at her. It didn't make Sarah uncomfortable, but she wondered what caused it. Seeing a woman who had been dressed like a man? Or did the scars intrigue her? "Could you bring me my saddlebags? I have clean clothes in them."

"I'll do that." Rusty wheeled about and left the room. Soon she returned with a small packet of headache salts and a glass of water. Sarah made short work of both as Rusty left again. On her next trip, she put a pitcher of water, a washbowl, and a rag on the bureau. "This water's heated." She went out once more and came back with Sarah's saddlebags and a basket that she set on the bureau. "These are the things from your pockets. I'll wash your other clothes for you. Just leave your underpants on the bed, and I'll wash them, too." She laid the saddlebags on the bed within Sarah's reach.

"Thank you for everything." Sarah closed her eyes again, and when she opened them, Rusty was gone. She threw off the cover, sat up, and swung her legs off the side of the bed. Dizziness overcame her for a moment. She shivered in the room's cold. She pulled her clothes from the saddlebag and even that small exertion made her queasy. With the help of the bedpost, she rose, removed her underpants, and tossed them on the bed. She used a chamber pot that rested next to the bed.

She shuffled three unsteady steps to the bureau and, while she washed, examined the contents of the basket Rusty had brought in. Coin bag, spectacle case, pen knife, clean handkerchief, wooden comb, rawhide, and leather packet were all there. After washing, she returned to the bedside and slowly dressed in clean underpants, an undershirt, denim trousers, her amber tunic, and knee-length black socks. Her boots were nowhere to be seen.

Back at the bureau, she tied her hair back with the rawhide, noticing in the mirror that hung against the wall that her hair had grown a lot longer. Faith always wanted her to let it grow, but she had shied away from doing so. Long hair took a lot of care. Now here she was, nowhere near Faith, and she'd let her hair grow. Was that an unconscious move to please Faith?

Sarah snorted at that thought. She scooped up her other belongings from the basket and distributed them in her trouser pockets. The coin bag she left where it was. On second thought, she took the leather packet back out of her pocket and laid it on the bureau. She untied the string and opened it and the handkerchief it held. For a moment she stood there, running her fingers over the red lock of hair. She had touched this hair every night since she'd been away. All except last night, but she had a legitimate excuse for missing the ritual last night. Sorry, Faith. Touching the hair brought a familiar yearning, and tears prickled her eyes. With a gulp, she swallowed her sadness and returned the leather packet to her pocket.

She opened the door, stepped out, and looked around the one large room. To her right, a deep fireplace covered most of one wall, its fire spreading welcome warmth. A black kettle hung from a swinging arm above it. Wood was stacked on the left side of its hearth and a poker and shovel hung on a rod to the right. A sofa, two chairs, and a small table were placed at angles to the fireplace.

Directly opposite her sat a four-burner stove and a wooden counter with drawers and cabinets built in beneath it. On the floor to the left of the stove sat a coal scuttle full of trimmed and cut logs. Shelves above the counter held dishes. Beyond the counter was the sink with a small hand pump. Several pots hung from the corner beam near the sink. In front of this area rested a table and four chairs, leaving a narrow path between them and the sofa. A brown and white rag rug covered this path.

Immediately to her left was a doorway. She guessed it went into another bedroom. Beyond that was the front door. The cabin must be L-shaped with the bedrooms on the short leg of the L and the rest of the cabin on the long leg. A rack for coats, hats, and boots flanked one side of the front door, and next to that was a small window. Everything was well organized, Sarah noted.

Her boots, cleaned and polished, stood to the side of the bedroom door. She tried unsuccessfully to pick them up. Excruciating pain shot through her head when she attempted to lean that far. She groaned, and Rusty immediately came to her aid.

Rusty grabbed one arm and put it across her shoulders. She barely came to Sarah's chin—about Leah's height, only a lot slimmer. "Come over here to the table. I'll bring your boots to you." She walked Sarah to a seat and brought her boots. "Want any help to put them on?"

Sarah grabbed her head with both hands. "Not right now, thanks. I don't feel up to it." Her voice still sounded gravelly. Maybe vomiting had strained a vocal cord. Heaven knows it was violent enough to. She winced inwardly at the word "violent." Faith had chiseled it onto her conscience.

"I made some coffee and porridge, if you want some. We have our own milk."

Sarah's stomach flipped, but she knew she needed nourishment. "I'll give it a try."

Rusty set the food in front of Sarah, poured herself a fresh cup of coffee, and sat in the opposite chair at the table.

Sarah drank the coffee and ate the porridge. She appreciated that Rusty didn't say a word until she finished. She was beginning to feel half human. The headache salts seemed to be making a dent in her pain.

"You up to answering questions?" Rusty asked. "I'm mighty curious."

"Go ahead." Sarah carefully picked up one boot and was glad to see she could bend over without her head coming apart. Rusty waited while she tugged it on, pulled on the second boot, and stamped her feet to settle them.

"Where are you from?"

"I was born in Fairmont in western Virginia. During the war, it became West Virginia. Now I live in Bonneforte, Missouri."

"If you don't mind me asking, what are you doing way out here and in this weather?"

"I've been searching for a likely place to settle for me and my family. I haven't found the perfect spot yet, so I'm still looking."

"Your family? Are you married, then?"

"No, I'm not." She didn't explain, and Rusty didn't pursue it. "My turn for questions now?"

Rusty grinned. "Sure." She poured more coffee for them both and sat back down.

"What are you doing here?"

"Mel and me came out here to Laramie three years ago with our pa for him and Mel to work for the railroad. Ma died when we was kids. Pa took sick and died last year. Mel got the notion to stake a mining claim, but an old geezer named Vollmer took a shine to him and sold him his claim. His wife had died, and he said he'd rather live in town in his old age." She stopped to take a sip of coffee. "When we saw what a nice setup he had built, we registered the claim in our name and moved up here. Mel's been working the mine since, whenever he's not working for the railroad, and I try to make a home for us."

"No man in the picture for you?"

"Not interested. Nothing much but railroad workers and a few hardscrabble miners around here for a long while, anyway, though Laramie's growing pretty good now. And there were some crooks. Most of them were run out of Laramie a couple of years back, but some miners have been robbed and even killed."

That news surprised Sarah. "Sounds dangerous."

Rusty waved toward the corner closest to the cabin door. "We keep a loaded shotgun handy all the time. Do you know how to shoot one?"

"Yes, and I have a Spencer repeating rifle and a Colt revolver with me. What makes you trust me? I could be after your gold, for all you know."

"Mel's a good judge of people. He wouldn't have brought you here if he didn't think you was all right. Besides, I saw your face when I told you about the robbers. You was surprised."

Sarah chuckled. "Yes, I was. I hadn't given a thought to claims around here being valuable enough to steal from."

"Most ain't. We're all hunting for gold, but as far as I know, no one's found much to speak of yet."

"How about yours?"

Rusty frowned. "You don't never ask that."

Abashed at breaking some unspoken rule, Sarah said, "Sorry. Please forget I said anything."

"That's all right. I was just warning you. Some folks might take offense, but not me. We ain't found a whole lot, but it's enough to live on. Mel's extra work for the railroad helps us get by pretty well."

Sarah pointed to the window. "Storm looks bad."

"It sure does. We're in a canyon here and the house and barn are built partly into a natural cave in the mountain, so that shelters us from the worst of the wind and cold. But all around here might get hit plenty hard. Hope you don't have to be anywhere soon. We could be snowed in for quite a spell."

Sarah rubbed her neck. "I don't have to be anywhere right now. But I want to keep searching for a likely place." Who was she kidding? She didn't even know if Faith was waiting for her. The thought of going home and finding out for sure made her nervous.

"There are some really pretty spots near here. You might not want to live so far up in the mountains, but there are plenty of beautiful valleys all around. And of course miles and miles of plains down below." Rusty's eyes brightened. "One thing you might be interested in. Over a year ago, Wyoming Territory passed a law that any woman will have the same rights as a man, voting and holding office, and everything."

"That's wonderful. I haven't heard of women being given those rights anyplace else I've traveled."

"Everyone said this was a first."

The idea intrigued Sarah. What a huge step in the right direction. Maybe some of the states would take a lesson from Wyoming. Maybe—

Rusty's voice encroached on her thoughts. "What're you looking for? Do you run cattle or sheep, or maybe you want a farm?"

"No, I'm a writer and an artist, so I work at home. But I want a place that's near a school."

"Once the railroad got this far, Laramie started getting settled pretty fast. They already have a school, and so do some of the forts nearby."

"That's good to know. Where's Mel now?"

"He's in the mine. Whenever we get snowed in, he works the claim every day except Saturday and Sunday. On Saturday we cut wood, and Sunday we rest. When he can get out of here, he does railroad work, and on his days off, he hunts or fishes or we cut wood or we smoke or salt whatever he's caught. When we need it, I churn butter."

Rusty sure did like to talk, Sarah mused. "Where do you keep the smoked meat and fish and the milk and butter?"

"Right here." Rusty jumped up and strode to the center of the room. With a flourish, she lifted the rag rug to reveal a trap door. "All our food's in the cellar. Smoked, canned, salted, dried, and sometimes fresh. We have oats, flax seed, potatoes, onions, turnips, flour, sugar, salt, whatever's handy at the market. Everything stays cold without freezing, and the varmints can't get to it." She replaced the rug and walked to the table.

"I see you're pretty self-sufficient." Sarah stood and went to the window. Snow as far as she could see, which was only about forty feet in the heavy, wind-driven snowfall. "If I'm going to be here for a while, I can give Mel a hand with the mining and the wood cutting. Or any other work. I want to be useful."

"Maybe so." Rusty cleared off the table and added the crockery to the pots in the sink. "He takes a sandwich and a jug of milk with him so he can stop work for dinner whenever he feels like taking a break, but he'll be in for supper. You can ask him then."

Sarah turned to look at her. "I seem to remember Mel bringing my horse along. Where is he?"

Rusty pushed the dishes and pots aside and put a rubber stopper in the sink. "In the barn with the other animals. We have two horses and a cow. I'll show you when we finish here." She put a bar of soap in the sink and poured in some hot water from the pot atop the stove. Working the small pump next to the sink, she added cold water, sloshing the mixture around with her free hand. She stopped pumping, washed the dishes and pots, and set them on the counter next to the sink.

"Dish towel?" Sarah asked, and Rusty pointed to a clean cloth hanging from a hook on the side of the counter. Sarah picked it up, dried the dishes, and set them in order on the open shelving. She hung the dry pots on the hooks fastened to a ceiling beam in the corner of the room.

Rusty went to the rack near the door and picked up her coat. "Your stuff is here, too," she said with a gesture as she placed a wide-brimmed hat on her head. Sarah lifted her coat and put it on then donned her slouch hat. She noticed her gun belt hanging from one of the pegs, but she left it there.

"My coat's dry," she said, "and warm."

"Mel hung it in front of the fireplace all night. And your gloves and hat. And boots."

"I thank him for that."

Rusty went out the door with Sarah following her. Mel must have cleared snow from the door when he went out, Sarah thought, or they would have had more trouble opening it. Bent over against the wind, they walked around the house through the heavy storm that had already deposited more than a foot of snow. Rusty pointed off to the side to a barely visible building. "That there's the outhouse. But in this weather, we use the slop jars and dump them in there each morning."

Slop jars? It wasn't much of a leap to realize that's what Rusty called the chamber pots.

Rusty glanced at Sarah. "Each of us takes care of our own."

"Sounds reasonable," Sarah said.

Rusty led her to a weathered-looking barn that had a snow-filled corral that angled off to the side and out past the front. Looking up at the barn roof, Sarah could see that it had been connected to part of the mountain. Clever. She helped Rusty open one of the double doors then close it. The interior wasn't as cold as she had expected. She supposed the animal heat kept it a little warmer than the outside, though it was still cold, just not freezing. Getting out of the wind helped, too. Three horses were stabled in stalls on one side, and a black cow lay on the ground in a fourth stall.

Two horses nickered when they entered. One was a plain brown mare. Sarah patted the animal's nose as she went by and strode quickly to Redfire, who was stabled in the third stall. "What are your horses named?" she said over her shoulder.

"The first one's my horse, Painter," Rusty answered, "because that's what she is, a paint. The second one's Brownie, because she's brown all over."

"I see you have a cow." Blackie? Sarah made a quick guess.

"That's Blackie." Sarah couldn't help but chuckle, and Rusty grinned. "Yep, because she's black all over. We have fresh milk every day, and we have fresh butter, too. Do you know how to milk a cow? Or churn butter?"

"No, but I can learn."

"I'll do the milking this morning. You go ahead and take care of your horse."

Sarah threw her arms around Redfire's neck and hugged him. "Hi, boy." She saw that Redfire had already been fed and watered, but he looked bedraggled after having been out in the storm for so long.

She looked around for a brush and currycomb and saw them hanging on the wall next to the long table that held the saddles and assorted jars, cans, and rags. Tack hung above the table. Against the back wall, on either side of open double doors, hay bales were stacked four deep to the ceiling with pitchforks hung on the wall nearby. A shorter stack in front showed where the latest bales had been pulled down to feed the horses. The Gunthers' wagon filled the rest of the barn floor.

Rusty picked up a pail and stool, sat down next to the cow, and milked it.

Sarah grabbed the grooming instruments and combed and brushed Redfire's hair until it had a sheen. Afterward, she combed and brushed his forelock and tail. "There you go, boy. Bet that feels better."

"Sure looks better," Rusty said.

Sarah jumped. She'd been so engrossed, she'd forgotten Rusty was there.

"Thanks," Sarah said.

"He's a really pretty horse." Rusty came to stand beside Sarah. "He a thoroughbred?" She scratched Redfire's head between his ears.

"Yes. I meant him to be just for riding, but he went through the war with me."

Rusty looked up at Sarah. "You fought in the war?" She sounded surprised. "I heard some women did, but I never knew one for real."

"I was a scout. I didn't have to fight, although I was in a couple of battles."

Rusty reached up and gently touched Sarah's scars a moment before Sarah pulled away. "You got those in the war?"

"Yes."

"And your leg got hurt, too? I saw you limp for a second or two after you slipped on the snow."

"Yes. I got shot in the leg, and it didn't heal right."

Rusty shivered. "I seen a lot of men come back with a leg or arm missing."

"I was lucky. A woman who knew doctoring saved mine for me." Visions of Faith kept rising in Sarah's mind even when she tried to block them. Thoughts of her made Sarah ache with loneliness—and anxiety.

"You look sad," Rusty said. "Was she someone special to you?"

Sarah grabbed a can of saddle soap and a rag and began rubbing the soap into Redfire's saddle that lay on the table. "She was. She is." Conflicting emotions ran through Sarah; she felt happy and sad, trusting and doubtful, hopeful and despairing.

She looked up at Rusty, who was staring at her again. Rusty blinked twice and gestured toward the saddle soap. "Put that aside a minute, and we can turn the horses and cow out into the back corral."

Sarah raised her brows in surprise. A back corral? Where? Mimicking Rusty's actions with Painter and Brownie, she tied a lead to Redfire. When Rusty took the horses through the double doors in the back of the barn, Sarah did the same. She stepped past the opening and stopped in amazement.

A huge natural cave spread in front of her. A wide fissure to the right of the dome allowed light through. The large damp patch below it attested to the snow that filtered down and melted. A fenced area strewn with straw filled about two-thirds of the area to the left. Heaped in a near corner of the corral, a short mound of manure added its pungent odor to the animal smell that permeated the area. Just outside the corral stood a hand-operated water pump, complete with a trough and buckets. The trough went under the fence into the corral. A pail was turned upside down over the top of the pump. A black hole loomed straight ahead, and to the right of the hole sat an assortment of boxes, some obviously empty, others closed.

"This is incredible," she said. "Did all this come with the deed?"

Rusty opened the corral gate, and they turned the horses loose. "Yep, it did. We sure was surprised to see all this." Rusty closed the gate and fastened it.

"Now I see why you couldn't pass it up. You have your own nook here. Doesn't even feel terribly cold in here."

Sarah's gaze went to the black hole. "Is that the mine?"

"Yep. It goes a ways back into the mountain. Mel must not have heard us or he would've been out here."

Sarah took a step toward the hole.

Rusty took her arm and halted her. "No, you don't. If you show up in there, he'll put you to work, and you're not up to that yet. The mine ain't going anywhere. It can wait another day."

That made sense to Sarah. The worst pain had passed, but her head still throbbed. "All right." She picked up the saddle soap and rag and returned to cleaning the saddle.

After Rusty led the cow into the corral, she motioned toward the house and said, "Come on in when you're finished. I'll make us some tea." She picked up the pail of milk and left.

Darkness came quickly on the snowy day. Sarah helped Rusty fill five hurricane lamps with oil, and Rusty lit two of them with a sulfur match. She put one on the table by the sofa and chairs and one on the table they ate from. Sarah added more logs to the fire, and that provided additional light.

Rusty brought a cast-iron pot from the cellar. "Bean soup," she said when Sarah lifted an eyebrow in inquiry. "It's already made. Just have to heat it up. Fire's all ready." Sarah took the heavy pot from her and set it on the box stove. Rusty used a lid-lifter to remove the cast iron lid of a front burner, and Sarah moved the pot there.

"This is a nice stove."

"Thanks. Mr. Vollmer told Mel someone tossed it out of their wagon on the way over here from the East. Too much weight, I guess. He put it in his wagon and kept it. Same thing with the sofa and chairs. I really like the stove. It saves having to bend over the fireplace all the time. Every place we ever lived before only had a fireplace."

A half-hour later, Rusty stirred the soup and said, "Almost done. Needs more wood on the fire, though." She set down the spoon and replaced the pot's lid.

"Let me fix the fire," Sarah said.

Sarah moved the bean soup to the back of the stove. From the coal scuttle, she picked four split-log pieces and loaded them into the open burner one by one. A small poker hung from the decorative top of the stove. Sarah used it to mix the wood with the hot coals left from the earlier fire. When finished, she pulled the soup pot forward once more onto the front burner.

Meantime, Rusty took a loaf of bread and a few extra pieces from the breadbox. She lifted a long knife from a silverware tray on the counter, sliced the bread and put it in a basket that she set on the table. Sugar, salt and pepper shakers, and a crock full of butter were already there. Sarah set three bowls around, and Rusty added the knives and spoons.

Rusty grinned at her. "We work well together."

Sarah returned the grin. "I'm used to fixing meals. I did the weekdays, and Faith—" She stopped abruptly and didn't finish. There was that same odd stare from Rusty. Sarah ignored it. "When does Mel usually come for supper?" Just as she finished the sentence, she heard a scraping at the door. It burst open, and a snow-covered Mel entered, stomping his feet.

"Snowing like hell out there," he said. "Though I doubt it snows in hell." He stood still while Rusty brushed him off with the broom that had been leaning in one corner. "I tried to run, but the footing was bad. Must've started with sleet." He took off his mittens, coat, and hat and hung them on the rack. Then he made a beeline for the sink, washed his hands and face under the pump, and dried them.

"Mel," Rusty said, "this is Sarah-Bren Coulter. She goes by Sarah."

Sarah was standing at the table, and Mel walked over to her. He had the same coloring as Rusty, but was square and muscular. Sarah topped him by at least three inches.

"Hi, Sarah. Glad to meet you." Sarah stuck out her hand, and he shook it. "Damn, you're tall," he said with a gleam in his eye, "and beautiful."

"Thank you, and thanks for looking out for me." Sarah grimaced. "I don't usually drink so much."

"I don't blame you, after going through that rainstorm. You were soaked."

"And freezing," Sarah said. "I needed to get warm. Just overdid it some. A lot," she amended. "Thanks to you, I still have my money, too."

"Glad to help."

"Hey, you two, the soup's hot," Rusty said. "Let's sit down and eat." She dished out the bean soup, and they sat down. Mel said grace and they ate.

Afterwards, as they drank coffee, Sarah said, "Rusty tells me you're working a claim. I'd like to help with that, if you'll let me. I've swung a pick or two."

Mel gave Rusty a glare. "Now why'd you go and tell her that?"

Rusty glared back. "Because she's bound to be here awhile with the blizzard we're getting, and with you going to the mine each day, she could figure it out herself." Rusty smiled sweetly. "Besides, you brought her here. You wouldn't have done that if you didn't think she was all right."

Mel gave a short laugh. "You trust my judgment too much. I never guessed she was a woman." He turned toward Sarah. "Come out with me tomorrow, and after we take care of the horses, I'll put you to work."

"Good," Sarah said. "I want to do my share, not live off of you for nothing."

"Glad to hear it." Mel snared a hard piece of bread from the plate, broke it up, and dropped each piece into his coffee. He ate it with a spoon and drank the coffee that was left. He saw Sarah watching him. "Good way to soften stale bread and tastes good, too. Never tried that before?"

"No, but I'm always willing to learn."

"Fair enough," Mel said, with a wink. "I'll teach you what I can, and you teach me what you can."

"Me, too, Sarah," Rusty said in a rushed tone that made both Mel and Sarah glance at her. Rusty blushed and looked away.

Chapter Nine

"Dinner," Faith called. She stood at the partially open door and watched Benjamin and Paddy come hurtling toward her through the snow. The decision to allow Benjamin to bring the puppy home from Leah and Phillip's house had turned out to be a good one. Benjamin took diligent care of Paddy and loved to spend time frolicking with him outside. From the vigor with which Paddy joined in playing with Benjamin, he obviously loved those times, too.

They ran into the house, and Faith gave a little shiver and closed the door. She'd be glad when warm weather returned. This winter seemed colder than ever to her. That thought gave her pause. She acknowledged that a big part of that cold was the absence of Sarah, not only from her bed, but also from her company. As reserved as Sarah tended to be with most other people, she always exuded a warmth toward her that Faith basked in.

Paddy shook himself, showering the area with bits of snow. Faith grabbed the broom and swept the snow onto a dustpan as Benjamin doffed his coat, hat, and scarf and toweled Paddy dry. He washed his hands at the sink pump and sat at the table where Faith had set out bowls of soup and bread. She had given Paddy the soup bone with bits of meat still clinging to it. He discovered it almost at once, and he was doing his best to chomp it clean. Faith tossed the snow outside and joined Benjamin at the table.

"I'm sorry Paddy made a mess, Mama."

"Maybe you can teach him to lick up the snow."

Benjamin grinned. "That sounds like something Aunt Sarah would say." His grin immediately disappeared, replaced by a thoughtful expression. He buttered a piece of bread, dipped it into his soup, and ate some.

"Mama, when is Aunt Sarah coming back?"

Faith dabbed at a drop of soup on her lips with a cotton napkin. "I think she plans to come back when school's out."

"Can she move back in with us?"

"No, she can't. I explained the rule to you. We have to live here by ourselves." Faith had finished about half of her soup. She laid her spoon down and pushed the bowl away. Benjamin's words raised questions that had plagued her for a long time. How would Sarah feel when she returned? She had carried a lot of anger with her when she left. Her emotionless letters, which only described where she'd been, hadn't given Faith a clue about whether that had changed. Faith wasn't even sure that Sarah would return. What if she didn't?

Benjamin finished his soup, and Faith rose to get him a glass of milk. "Where will we live when she comes back?" he asked. "Will we all go back home?"

Faith poured the milk and put the jug back in the icebox. Back home? Would Phillip and Leah really relinquish the house? She and Benjamin couldn't live here in Bonneforte with Sarah unless Faith stopped teaching. She couldn't see herself doing that. Besides, why should she give it up? Sarah wouldn't even agree to stop dressing like a man. "I don't know." She put the glass on the table and sat back down. "We can decide that when Aunt Sarah returns."

Benjamin circled the glass with both hands and sat brooding. Faith got up and cleared the table. "Mama," he said, "Dr. Litchfield comes over here a lot."

"Once a week. Sometimes twice. Does that bother you?"

Benjamin shrugged. "I don't know."

Faith read the shrug to mean it did bother him. "Do you like him?" Joel had gone out of his way to get close to Benjamin. Once he learned that Benjamin was interested in the practice of medicine, they usually spent several minutes talking about the types of cases Joel handled. He even seemed to enjoy playing with Paddy, tossing a ball or a stick for Paddy to fetch.

"He's all right, I guess." Benjamin got up and put his empty glass on the counter.

"What would you think..." Should she even ask him this? Yes, she might as well find out his thoughts. "What would you think about me marrying him?"

Benjamin turned toward her, looking shocked. "Marrying him? But what about Aunt Sarah?"

"It's just a thought. He's asked me to marry him, but I haven't given him an answer." She laid her hand on Benjamin's arm as he walked by her chair. "Don't you think life would be a lot easier for both of us if I did marry him? We'd fit in with everybody else, and you'd have a man to look up to like a father."

Benjamin jerked his arm away. "No! I don't need a father, and I don't care about fitting in with anyone. Aunt Sarah treats me better than lots of fathers treat their kids."

That was true, Faith conceded. "Please don't get upset. Nothing's settled."

Benjamin got his coat, and Paddy jumped up and joined him. "I'm going to ride Drummer for a while."

He put on his coat and scarf and reached for his hat. "Mama, don't marry Dr. Litchfield. You don't care for him like you do Aunt Sarah."

His remark surprised Faith. "You can't know how I feel about him."

"I know you don't look at him the way you look at Aunt Sarah. And you know what? He doesn't look at you like Aunt Sarah does."

"I'll think about what you’ve said, Benjamin. Like I mentioned, nothing's decided yet." Faith reached down and gave Paddy a pat. "You're a pretty boy, Paddy." She straightened up and saw a brief grin on Benjamin's face. "I'm glad you're smiling," she said.

"I was thinking about something Aunt Leah said about Paddy."

"What was that?"

"She said she suspected Aunt Sarah picked Paddy because his coat almost matched the color of your hair."

Faith sighed inwardly. Sarah always had loved her hair. She leaned over and pulled one of her curls down next to Paddy, who was jumping against her. She laughed. "We really are a close match, aren't we, boy?" She straightened up. "Be back by sundown, Benjamin, as usual."

"I will, Mama." When Benjamin and Paddy went out, some cold air came in. Faith shivered again. She recalled her thoughts about Sarah warming a room just with her presence. Did Joel warm a room with his?

Evening approached in the Wyoming hills, and they sat around the fireplace talking. "Rusty, where did you get your name?" Sarah asked.

Rusty lifted a hand from her knitting and pointed her thumb toward Mel. "From my brother. My name's really Ruth. When we were kids, Mel said I must be full of scrap iron. He said I was rusting, and it showed in my hair. He started calling me Rusty just to torment me, but I kind of liked it, and it stuck." She cocked her head, just as Faith often did, and Sarah's heart lurched. "What about your name? You said something more than just Sarah."

"Sarah-Bren. I was named for my grandmother, Sarah, and my grandfather, Brendan, on my father's side."

"What name did you use in the war? Couldn't be Sarah."

"I went by Bren Cordell. No one ever questioned it."

"You were in the war?" Mel looked at her curiously.

"I was a scout."

"Which side?"

"I worked for the Union." No sense in saying she was a spy attached to the Confederate Army, Sarah thought. Some people didn't take too well to spies.

"Bluebelly, huh?" He chuckled. "That's what the Rebs called us. I was Union, too. Ohio." He hesitated. "That where you got the scars?"

"Yes."

Mel examined her with a thoughtful expression. "Looks like a point-blank shot to me. You was damned lucky."

Sarah just nodded, and the conversation died. She wished Mel hadn't asked her about the scars. Usually, she could divorce herself from the answers to such questions, but lately, for some reason, she hadn't been able to. Too much emotional upheaval going on in her life right now, maybe. Her thoughts hurtled back to that terrible day. Staked to the ground. Stripped. Viciously assaulted. Shot and left for dead. Staggering to Leah for help. Horrifying visions tumbled through her head, over and over.

She jerked in startlement when Mel rose and stretched. "Time for rest, ladies."

"Rusty," Sarah said, recovering, "I'll take your place out here on the sofa. I don't want to push you out of your own bed."

"No, no," Rusty said. "You're too tall for the sofa. You take the bed, and I'll sleep here."

"That's kind of you, but I'd feel really uncomfortable doing that. I've slept in a lot worse places than the sofa."

"You're both women," Mel said. "Why not share the bed?"

Sarah switched her gaze from him to Rusty, who looked as shocked as Sarah felt. "I don't think so," she said. "I don't share a bed with strangers, and I'd advise Rusty not to either."

"Sorry," Mel said, but from the smile on his face, he didn't look sorry. "I just know it gets mighty cold at night. A warm body would sure come in handy to keep the chill away." He gave Sarah a mischievous grin. "I'd be willing to share my bed."

Sarah laughed. "Best look elsewhere, Mel. I'm grateful for your help, but not that grateful."

"Behave yourself, Mel Gunther." Rusty stood and glanced at Sarah. "I'll get bedclothes for you."

"No need," Sarah said. "I can use my bedroll. I have a nightshirt and blankets in it."

"All right. I'll get you a pillow." She went into her bedroom and returned with a pillow and two blankets. "Mel, hang these blankets in the corner." She put the pillow on one end of the sofa and pointed to a spot next to the fireplace. "Sarah can use it to change clothes, and I'll put the extra slop jar in there, too."

Sarah touched her fingers to her forehead in a salute of thanks.

"All the comforts of home. I appreciate it."

Mel screwed several hooks into the ceiling and attached the blankets to them. Rusty went to a small wall closet and brought out a chamber pot and a stack of catalog paper that she put inside the nook the blankets fashioned.

"I'll see you ladies in the morning," Mel said and went into his room.

"Good night," both women said.

"And good night to you, Sarah." Rusty moved toward her room. "We eat breakfast at first light."

"Fine. Good night." Sarah fetched her bedroll from where it leaned against the wall. She opened it and laid two blankets on the sofa. Before changing her clothes, she performed the ritual of caressing the lock of Faith's hair she carried. She changed into her nightshirt in the nook and removed the rawhide tie from her hair and stuck it into one of the pockets of the trousers she had just removed. She turned down the oil lamp on the nearby table and slipped under the covers. She lay there awhile thinking of Faith, as she did every night, wondering what she was doing. Several times she had wavered over whether she should go back and find out exactly how Faith felt. Now that decision had been taken out of her hands. According to Mel, they could be snowed in for months.

She hoped with all her heart that Faith was alone and as lonesome as she was. To consider anything else was unbearable.

Benjamin set a short log on the stump, lifted the ax, and slammed it through the log. As he reached for another, Faith gathered the chunks. She settled them onto the pile that had lowered precipitously through the cold months. They had alternated the chopping for three hours, and the log pile now stood shoulder high.

"I think that should be enough for a while," Faith said.

"Put the next ones in the basket, Mama, and I'll carry them inside."

Faith stood up straight and moved her shoulders before resuming her task. "I didn't realize chopping logs was so hard or took so much time."

"Aunt Sarah did most of the chopping. She's a lot faster than we are." They worked silently for a time. "Mama," Benjamin said, "how did you get Aunt Sarah to leave? Was she upset about it?"

"Yes, she was upset, but the idea was her own. She thought we'd be safer if she left. I think she plans to come back when school's out. She's hunting for a spot we might like to live in."

"Do you want to leave here, Mama?"

"Not really. I like it here. I enjoy teaching at the school. Next year, you'll be in high school, and the one in Cape Girardeau has a good reputation."

"I wish we could stay, too." Benjamin sounded wistful. "I wish the Ku Klux Klan had never showed up here."

"I do, too. You know the bill that's before Congress about civil rights?" Faith had been teaching about it in school.

"Yes, ma'am." Benjamin put another log on the stump.

"I just read in the newspaper that some people are calling it the Ku Klux Klan Act. They think it will get rid of the Klan."

"I hope it will." Benjamin struck the log with a thunk that accompanied his emphasis on the word "hope."

"Unfortunately, that won't change what's already happened— Aunt Sarah shooting Ed Putnam and the boys kidnapping you two."

Benjamin finished chopping and helped Faith gather the last chunks. "Mama, I have something to tell you."

His voice sounded strange, and Faith stopped with the last chunk in her hand. "What?" She looked at him, but he turned his gaze away.

"Aunt Sarah and I didn't tell you the whole truth about Mr. Putnam."

Faith bristled. "What do you mean, 'the whole truth'?"

Benjamin looked back at her and squared his shoulders. "Aunt Sarah didn't shoot Mr. Putnam. Daniel did."

Faith hurled the last chunk at the basket so hard that it bounced out. "She lied to me? Sarah lied to me?"

Benjamin's words came in a rush. "She didn't want to. She said she'd never lied to you before, and I could tell she felt bad about it. But if people knew that Daniel had hurt Mr. Putnam, they'd hunt him down and kill him. Maybe kill the whole family. But they're gone now, so I think it's all right to tell you." His voice caught as he took a breath. "Aunt Sarah said she would let everyone think she did it, and she made us promise not to tell anyone anything different. Even you and Daniel's mama, because if people found out about it, you could get hurt, too. I didn't want you to get hurt, Mama. Please don't be mad."

Benjamin looked so forlorn. Faith thought about what he had said, and her anger cooled. She put her arms around him. "I'm not mad. I understand. Aunt Sarah did the right thing."

She also understood she'd been blaming Sarah for something she didn't do. Faith had added her condemnation to everyone else's.

Oh, Sarah, no wonder you were so angry. I should have stood beside you even though we disagreed.

After a breakfast of smoked venison strips, porridge, and coffee, Mel and Sarah bundled up. "Here," Rusty said. She lifted a long piece of cotton material from one of the hooks. "Working the mine is dusty. You'll need to put this scarf across your nose and mouth."

"Thanks." Sarah bent her head and let Rusty loop the material around her neck and tuck it into her coat.

"There you go." Rusty gave her chest a pat and blushed when she looked up and her gaze met Sarah's. For once, Rusty said nothing, just stepped back and let Sarah pass her.

When the front door wouldn't budge, Mel and Sarah crawled out the window. Drifts of thigh-high snow covered everything. They stood for a moment, just looking around. Most of the horizon was obscured by what looked like a mixture of blue spruce and pine trees.

Sarah took a deep breath of fresh air. "At least the snow stopped."

"For now." Mel pointed to the heavy sky. "There's more to come."

Sarah shaded her eyes with her hand and gazed at the dark gray clouds. "Sure looks that way." She found the absolute quiet unusual. They were surrounded by a pine forest, but it was different from the woods she was used to.

"I left a shovel near the door." Mel struggled confidently to the depression that marked the door and pulled the shovel out of the mound covering it.

"Should've set two out, and we both could shovel," Sarah said.

"We'll take turns." Mel started clearing snow from the door. "It'll go faster that way. One shovels, one rests."

"Quiet here," Sarah said. "No animals, no gurgling streams, not even birds."

"The blizzard did that. The animals and birds will be moving around soon." Mel stopped shoveling and stood up straight. "See that depression over there? A small river flows through this canyon. It's a feeder to the Platte, but it doesn't gurgle when it's frozen. We cut our ice from it."

Sarah estimated the river was about a hundred yards away. "You fish it?"

"Yep. Got a bunch of smoked pike and buffalo fish laid away."

"We had venison for breakfast. What other animals do you hunt?"

"Bear, elk, antelope, rabbit up here in the mountains. Plenty of buffalo on the plains, but I usually only take one a year. Have to haul it back here, butcher it, smoke the meat, and tan the hide. I'm mostly happy with what I can hunt up here." Mel went back to shoveling. He had cleared the door and began to extend the path toward the barn.

"Once the snow starts," he said, "it pretty much keeps coming through the winter. We don't have as much here in the canyon, but out past here, there's more than we can get through. We'll be snowed in for months."

Sarah waved toward the horizon. "Can't get out with snowshoes?"

Mel barked a laugh. "Maybe, but it's a far piece to travel, and risky. Probably take several days, maybe a week, and there's always the danger of getting caught in a blizzard or even avalanches."

"So you don't recommend it?"

Mel seemed to mull that over, then shook his head no. "Not for one person, traveling alone. Especially with a bum leg. You'd most likely never make it."

Well, it didn't take long for Rusty to fill him in about her leg. She wondered what else they said about her.

"We've stocked up on everything we need. Best to stay right here until the spring thaw."

"And when does that come?"

"April, usually. Not much more snow, and what's here starts to melt. Even the trees perk up."

After shoveling more than halfway to the barn, he straightened up and wiped his brow with his coat sleeve. "Time to switch." He handed the shovel to Sarah, and she began shoveling at a regular pace.

The activity warmed her, and before long, she was sweating. Eventually she got to the barn. She widened the path to make room for the door to open and set the shovel against the barn wall.

Mel grabbed the door handle and opened it. "Step inside and take a rest."

They entered the barn, and his mischievous grin showed again. "I'll give you a choice. You want to muck the stalls or shovel a path to the outhouse?"

Sarah weighed the outside cold against the smelly mucking. "Not a hard decision. I'll shovel snow."

"Smart as well as beautiful. Good combination."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Save your sweet talk, Mel."

He stopped where he stood. "You're a good-looking woman. You must be used to men flirting with you."

Sarah walked past him. "Let's get the animals fed and watered."

Mel followed and tapped her on the shoulder. Sarah stopped and turned toward him. "What?"

"Did I bother you?" he said. "I didn't mean to."

"I'm...committed to someone," Sarah said. She hoped with all her heart that Faith still felt committed to her.

Mel made an amusing face. "Damn, just when I had dreams of a warm bed."

Sarah laughed. "You can always sleep with Brownie."

They turned and walked through the doorway into the cave. Sarah lifted the pail off of the pump. She noted it had a piece of blanket stuffed in it as insulation. She set the pail down and pumped fresh water into the trough.

Mel grabbed a pitchfork and dumped a bale of hay into the corral. He unhooked the gate, walked inside, and forked the bale into clumps of hay. The horses and cow gathered to chomp on it.

"How about milking the cow?" Sarah said.

"Rusty does that. Soon as you finish shoveling a path to the outhouse, come back and I'll put you to work in the mine. Tomorrow we clean the corral." Mel traded the fork for a flat shovel. He and Sarah walked back into the barn, and he started to muck the stalls. "Snow sure is lighter than this stuff," he grumbled good-naturedly.

Sarah looked back over her shoulder and wrinkled her nose as she headed outside. "Smells a lot better, too."

Just as she finished shoveling the path to the outhouse and set the shovel against the small building, Rusty appeared carrying a chamber pot.

"I'll get that," Sarah said and took the pot from her.

"Thanks. Dump it in the right side hole," Rusty said. "And grab the brush that's hanging in there."

Sarah dumped the pot and came back outside with it and the brush. She set the pot down, and Rusty scooped snow into it. "How about you clean that one out, and I'll get the rest of them?"

"I thought we each did our own?"

"I just said that so you wouldn't think I would wait on you. No maids around here."

"Fine with me." Sarah set to work with the brush, and soon Rusty brought the second one. They took care of all three pots. Rusty carried the last one back to the house while Sarah grabbed the shovel, returned to the barn, and leaned the shovel against its side.

When she entered the cave, she saw Mel had finished mucking the stalls and was removing his coat.

He looked up. "You might want to shuck your coat, too. It's not all that cold in the mine, and the digging keeps you warm." He picked up a lantern and lit it. Then he wrapped a bit of material over the lower half of his face.

Sarah took off her hat and coat and followed him into the mine as she wrapped the cotton scarf Rusty had given her over her mouth and nose. The mine looked to be about seven feet wide. The shaft was shored up on both sides and across the ceiling with four-by-eight-inch slabs of wood about ten feet apart. She had to duck, not only under the low-slung beams, but also under the rock ceiling. Vollmer must have been short.

She figured they had traversed more than a hundred feet when Mel stopped and hung the lantern on one of the side beams. Directly past him was the area he was currently digging. Two wooden wheelbarrows sat to one side, next to a pick and a shovel.

"Here we are," he said. He handed Sarah the shovel and got the pick for himself. He pointed to a dully gleaming stripe in the rock face. "This is the gold ore. The rest is plain rock. We put the ore in one barrow and the rock in the other. I'll pick for a while, you shovel, then we'll change. All right?"

Sarah nodded and stepped back so Mel could swing the pick. She leaned partly on the shovel and partly on the wall while she watched him. He picked awhile at the stripe then stopped. Sarah stepped forward and shoveled the ore into the first wheelbarrow. Then Mel picked the rock away to clear more of the stripe and stopped while Sarah shoveled that rubble into the second barrow. When the rubble barrow was full, they pushed both out of the shaft into the cave and dumped the barrows into separate boxes.

"I keep the good stuff in here," Mel said. "The rock gets dumped outside, but I do that after I'm finished for the day."

He waved a hand toward the cow. "Rusty's been here and gone. She always does the morning milking. Sometimes I do the evening milking for her, just to give her a break."

They took the wheelbarrows back into the shaft, and this time Sarah worked the pick. Because of her height, she had a difficult time. Bent over, she couldn't get much leverage and couldn't swing the pick full-force. After fifteen minutes, Mel said, "This ain't going to work. You'll kill your back. Let me handle the pick, and you do the shovel."

Sarah was glad to switch, and they worked that way until the rubble barrow was again full. After they pushed them back to the cave and emptied them, Mel loosened his scarf, retrieved a sack, and sat on the coat he had removed earlier. "Time for dinner."

Sarah loosened her scarf, too, and sat next to him on her coat. Mel opened the sack and handed her a sandwich that Sarah examined. Thinly sliced smoked beef, onion, and cheese, slathered with ketchup on seasoned bread. She took a bite and closed her eyes in appreciation. Ummm.

"Good, huh? Sometimes I get meat and sauerkraut." Mel set a stoppered jug next to her. "Milk. Help yourself," he said. "Rusty's good with food, I'll give her that. How about you? Are you a good cook?"

"Passable. Nothing to brag about. This tastes wonderful."

"Yep. I can't cook either. I guess I'm best at plodding along just doing what needs to be done. What are you best at?"

"Plodders are good, and necessary." She ate more of her sandwich and thought for a moment. "I'm good at writing and drawing, but those talents aren't all that useful here. I'm good at hunting, and I can do heavier work than most women." Sarah finished the sandwich and took a swig from the jug of milk.

"So I noticed. Rusty tried working in the mine, but she didn't have the strength. I could pretty near do as much alone as we did together. Besides that, she sneezes her head off from the dust, even with a scarf. You've helped a lot."

"Thanks. That dust's pretty nasty. How do you handle it every day?"

"Guess I'm used to it. Once in a while I get a really bad chest cold, and I'm not good for much of anything. Days like that, no mining gets done. I stay in the house, and Rusty clucks over me like a mother hen." Mel hesitated. "I have to say, you're really quiet next to her. She loves to talk."

"I've never been much of a talker," Sarah said.

Mel chuckled. "Thank goodness. I'm used to my sister, and I don't mind her talking, but I'm not sure I could take two women talkers in the same house."

They finished their meal, and Mel stood up. "Back to work."

Sarah joined him as they donned their scarves and went back into the mine.

When Mel called it a day, they pushed the final barrows into the cave and loosened their scarves. Sarah dumped the ore into a box.

"Time to dump the rock," Mel said. He motioned for Sarah to help him dump a box of rubble into the barrow she had. He donned his hat, coat, and gloves and Sarah did likewise. Mel pushed a barrow of rock out of the cave, through the barn, and on outside. Following him with her barrow, Sarah wondered where he would empty it.

"More shoveling to do first." Mel left the barrow and grabbed the shovel that Sarah had leaned against the outside of the barn. He pointed off to the right. "Have to go over there." He started shoveling. Sarah walked behind him with a barrow of rubble, until he stopped and handed her the shovel. "Your turn."

She shoveled until Mel hollered, "Whoa! That's far enough. Give me the shovel."

Sarah gave it to him. She straightened up and looked ahead at a depression that she hadn't noticed earlier. "A ravine?"

"Yep. This one ain't a straight down drop-off like some, but it's deep enough to hold the dumpings." He dug a bit farther then stopped and set the shovel in the snow to the side of him. He went back for Sarah's barrow, pushed it forward, and tipped it, allowing the rock to roll into the ravine.

"It only went partway down," Sarah said.

"That's good enough for now. It'll go the rest of the way come spring when the snow melts."

They went back after the other boxes of rocks and dumped them, too.

"We did a good day's work," Mel said. He thumped Sarah on the back. "We got an extra box of ore, thanks to you."

One more thump, and she would have fallen over, Sarah thought. She hadn't done so much physical work in one day for a long time, and she'd be glad to get inside and rest.

"Oh, God, that feels good," Sarah said. The three had eaten supper and were now sitting in front of the fire. Sarah was on the sofa, and Rusty stood behind her, massaging her neck and shoulders.

"I do this for all the miners," Rusty said with a giggle. "Don't I, Mel?"

"Yep," Mel replied from the chair he sat in. "One of the best rewards for working hard. Rusty has magic hands." He waggled a finger. "Don't go skipping me, sis."

"You know I won't, but guests first."

"Maybe you better massage Mel's neck before I wear you out," Sarah said. "I could sit here forever enjoying this." The enjoyment was bittersweet. Sarah was pretending that Faith's hands were rubbing her neck so lovingly as she often had in the past.

Rusty's fingers gradually slowed, and Sarah asked, "Who rubs your neck for you?"

"I've tried," Mel said, "but I'm too clumsy."

"You mean well," Rusty said. "You just don't have the touch."

Sarah looked from one to the other as Rusty switched to massaging the tops of Mel's shoulders. "All right. Tomorrow, if I can move, I'll rub your neck for you."

Rusty's face lit up. "Wonderful! I'll hold you to that." She hesitated. "What do you mean, if you can move?"

"Remember my saying I'm a writer and an artist? I haven't worked this hard since...I can't remember when."

"Damn," Mel said. "I didn't give that a thought. You take tomorrow off."

Sarah opened her mouth to protest, but he raised a hand to forestall her. "No arguments. You got your own work that needs to be done, right?"

Sarah nodded. "I have book contracts to fulfill, but nothing pressing."

"Suppose you work two days a week with me in the mine and you can help cut wood on Saturdays. The other days you can do your own work. Except Sunday. On Sunday, we rest."

"All right. That sounds more than generous." Sarah was greatly relieved. Maybe she could work more than two days a week after she got used to it, but right now, her muscles felt like ropes of sausage that had been tromped on. She could hardly wait until Mel announced the end of the day, which she assumed he always did. Sure enough, he finally stood and said, "Time for rest."

"Good night." Sarah lurched to her feet and rooted in her bedroll for her nightshirt. Rusty touched her arm.

"Good night, Sarah. I'm looking forward to that massage. Maybe after dinner tomorrow?" She reached up, untied the rawhide that held Sarah's hair, and handed her the strip. "You have lovely hair."

"Thanks. After dinner is fine. Good night, Rusty." Sarah would have promised anything. All she wanted was sleep. She opened the leather packet and stroked the red curl, but she hoped she was too tired to dream of Faith.

Sarah spent the morning at the kitchen table, writing on her current story. It was one-third done and her publisher didn't expect it until autumn, so she had plenty of time to finish it. She needed to embellish it with a few drawings, too, but both times she'd decided to draw, she wound up drawing Faith or Benjamin. After pulling off her spectacles, she put them in their case and rubbed her knuckles into her eyes.

After dinner, she prepared to give Rusty the massage she had promised. Rusty preferred to sit in a kitchen chair. Sarah began a light rub on her shoulders.

"Wait," Rusty said. "Let me loosen my dress so you can work right on my skin." She unbuttoned the top few buttons of her dress and pushed it back to bare her shoulders.

"Do you have any scented oil?" Sarah asked. "It's really good for a massage." She smiled to herself, remembering that Leah had taught her the delights of a sensual massage with oil.

"No." Rusty sounded disappointed.

"That's all right. We don't need it." Sarah worked her fingers in from Rusty's shoulders to her neck and back again. Once more, she followed the same trail, only with increasing pressure.

Rusty's head lolled from side to side. "Oh, you must be an angel. That feels like heaven."

"No one's ever accused me of being an angel." Sarah's thoughts weren't exactly angelic either. She hadn't touched a woman for a long time. This wasn't Faith, but the contact was still warming her body.

Rusty giggled. "Well, I think you are." Sarah slowed, thinking she should end the massage. "Please," Rusty said, "just once more."

Even the words warmed her. How many times had she or Faith said that to each other? She pulled her thoughts up short. "Not this time. I don't want to spoil you," she said in a light tone she somehow managed to force from herself.

Rusty turned in the chair and grabbed the hand that still lay on her shoulder. She stroked Sarah's hand. "You have beautiful hands, so strong looking, yet so gentle." She kissed Sarah's hand then pulled it to her bare chest. "That was wonderful. Can you do it again soon?" She looked up at Sarah.

Sarah nodded. She could feel the blush rising on her cheeks. Rusty let go of her hand and stood. "Sarah..." Sarah couldn't stop herself from staring as Rusty buttoned her dress. "Mel said you told him you're committed." She hesitated, and Sarah met her gaze. "Are you committed to a woman?"

Sarah blinked. She really didn't want to say so, but she couldn't lie. "Yes."

"A woman named Faith?"

"Yes."

"I thought so." Rusty smiled. "I love women, too."

Sarah needed to get her mind together. Why hadn't she recognized that Rusty was flirting with her? Maybe because her mind was so full of Faith that no other woman stood a chance with her? She walked over to the sink, pumped a glass half-full of water and drank it. When she turned around, Rusty hadn't moved.

Rusty lifted her hands and let them drop. "I just wanted to let you know. I'm not cozying up to you, unless you want me to."

"Please, no." Sarah recognized the plea in her own voice.

Rusty clapped her hands together twice. "All right, that's that. We'll just be friends."

"I'll be happy to be that." Relief flooded Sarah. Maybe Rusty could keep her emotions in check, even if Sarah's slipped once in a while.

"But," Rusty said with that same mischievous grin her brother sported, "I still want those massages."

The corner of Sarah's lips turned up. "That's a promise."

Several days later, the animals had been taken care of, and Mel was out working the mine as usual. Earlier, Rusty had shown Sarah how to milk a cow. Now they were in the cellar, where they had brought the milk, and Rusty was about to show her how to churn butter. "I let the cream rise to the top of the milk, then scoop it out and put it in a crock." She pointed to one of the crocks. "I let it sit in the cellar for two weeks and age. That one's ready." She dipped a bowl of cream from the crock, and the two women returned to the kitchen. Rusty poured the cream into a wooden cylinder that had a pole sticking out of the lid.

"This is the butter churn," Rusty said. "The bottom of the pole is star-shaped and pushing the pole up and down mixes up the cream and makes butter. What ain't turned into butter, we call clabber. Some people call it buttermilk."

"I like buttermilk," Sarah said.

She worked the pole until Rusty said it was enough. Rusty lifted the lid of the churn and scooped the butter out into a fresh bowl. She poured cold water onto it, mashed the butter and water together, and poured off the excess. She repeated this step until the water ran clear. Afterward, she added salt to the butter and mixed it thoroughly with a large spoon. She picked up a glob on the end of her finger and held it out to Sarah. "Taste it."

Sarah reached for it, but Rusty pulled her finger back. "Goodness gracious, just open your mouth."

She stuck the glob in Sarah's mouth, and Sarah was practically forced to lick it off Rusty's finger.

"How's it taste?" Rusty asked innocently.

Sarah licked her lips. "Tastes really good."

"The butter or my finger?" Rusty said. She grinned when Sarah rolled her eyes. "All right, I'm sorry. I just love to tease."

"Last thing I need is someone teasing me. I haven't seen Faith for a long time. That's teasing enough."

"And you really miss her?"

"Yes, very much. And our son, Benjamin."

With Sarah helping, Rusty poured the clabber out of the churn into a clean pitcher and covered it with a cloth. She dipped some hot water from the pot hanging in the fireplace and put it in the churn. She added a sliver of soap to the water. "You have a son?"

"Faith is his birth mother. But I think of him as my son, too." Sarah grabbed a long brush hanging near the sink, stepped to the churn, and started cleaning it.

"How old is Benjamin? Does he look like Faith? Is he why you wanted to be near a school?"

Sarah laughed. "Slow down, woman. Let me answer one at a time." Why was she even answering Rusty's questions? Personal questions usually annoyed Sarah. But, to be fair, it was lonely here and Rusty had to be lonely, too. Besides, she and Mel had accepted Sarah into their home with few questions in the beginning. Sarah guessed it was only fair to answer some now.

She picked up the churn and dumped the soapy water in the sink. Rusty took it from her, rinsed it with clean water, and turned it upside down in the sink to drain.

"Benjamin's fourteen," Sarah said, "and a young man to be proud of. He looks like Faith and is tall like her, but he has his father's coloring, dark hair and brown eyes. Faith has red, curly hair and green eyes. Before you ask, his father was killed in the war before Faith and I ever met." A picture of Faith flitted across Sarah's mind and made her pause. "I want to be near a school because Faith's an elementary schoolteacher. Benjamin will soon be in high school."

"Laramie and some of the forts around here have schools, and there's talk of a high school in Cheyenne." Rusty cocked her head. "You never say 'ain't' like Mel and me do. And you write. I can't even read much, just some signs mostly and stuff in the stores."

Sarah's interest was piqued. "Would you want to learn? I could teach you."

"Would you? Oh, please. I see other people reading newspapers, and I have to ask them what's going on. I want to be able to read the news by myself. Maybe even some books."

Sarah smiled at her. "We can do that."

The joy in Rusty's face dimmed. "But we don't have no books. Not even newspapers."

Sarah pursed her lips and tapped them with a forefinger. "I have an idea. I have plenty of notepaper with me. You can tell me the story of your life from as far back as you remember, and I'll write it down. That way I can teach you from your own words."

"Wonderful. I'll work hard and be the best student you ever had."

No, Sarah thought, that title belongs to Leah. But she'd teach Rusty as much as she could.

"I've seen you drawing, too. Will you show me some?"

"I'd be happy to." Sarah rose to retrieve her sketchbook from a saddlebag hanging with the coats and hats near the door.

"Wait," Rusty said, "let me put the butter and clabber away first. The clabber tastes better when it's cold." Sarah detoured to lift the trapdoor for her and take the clabber pitcher from her. She and Rusty took the two items into the cellar and returned. While Sarah went to get the sketchbook, Rusty closed the door and set the rug back over it.

They sat at the table. Sarah pulled her spectacles case from her pocket and put them on. She opened the sketchbook and placed it in front of Rusty.

"Oh, my," Rusty said, "these are so good. They look real." She slowly leafed through it.

"Ah," she said and pointed to a picture, "that's got to be Faith."

Just looking at the picture brought a lump to Sarah's throat. Unable to speak, she nodded.

"No wonder you won't cheat on her. She's a fine looking woman." Rusty turned a page and let out a little squeal. "And here's Benjamin! What a charmer he is. Fourteen's a fun age for boys. I remember Mel when he was fourteen." She laughed. "We lived in town, and he about drove my pa crazy, always running around, hanging with the wrong kids, throwing crabapples on neighbors' porches at night."

"Benjamin hasn't done that yet, but we don't live that close to the center of town, more on the outskirts." It was hard to imagine Benjamin being wild. It was hard to imagine Mel being wild either. He certainly outgrew it.

Rusty echoed her thoughts. "Mel's such a good man now, I can hardly believe how he carried on."

And he had a father, Sarah thought. Benjamin seemed to be doing very well without one.

Chapter Ten

With some trepidation, Faith knocked on the door of her former home. Leah answered the door, with, as Faith noted, the barest hint of a flinch.

"Faith." Leah's tone was noncommittal. "Come in, please." She led Faith into the living room.

Faith looked around. "You haven't changed anything?"

"And we haven't sold our house in town. Phillip and I decided to leave this house as it is until Sarah comes home. She made her decision in a hurry, and she was upset at the time. We want to give her a chance to change her mind."

"That's very kind of you."

"Sit down, please. I'll bring some refreshments." Faith sat in a chair, and Leah went into the kitchen. In a few minutes, she returned with a tray that held a tea set and cookies.

"You and Sarah gave us this tea set for our wedding." Leah set the tray on the small table in front of the sofa and sat down.

"I recall that. Sarah said pink and white roses are your favorite." Of course, Faith thought. Her bedroom here had pink and white roses in the wallpaper.

"They are. I was pleased that she remembered. You take sugar in your tea, right?"

"Yes, please."

Faith accepted the cup of tea Leah handed her. She took a sip and replaced the flowered cup in its matching saucer. She hesitated.

"I haven't heard from Sarah for more than three months. She was writing me every so often, but her last letter was in December, around Christmas. Have you heard from her?"

Faith felt uncomfortable asking Leah for information about Sarah. Truth be told, she had always been a little jealous of their close relationship. But she had nowhere else to turn.

"No, we haven't heard anything, either. I've been worried about her. Hearing that you haven't had word from her makes me worry more." Leah's expression reflected her sincerity.

"Maybe the winter weather has something to do with it," Faith said. "Maybe she's somewhere that she can't mail her letters."

"I hope that's so. None of us knows where to reach her to even inquire." Leah drank some of her tea.

"Or answer her letters." Faith twisted her fingers together. "I hate the thought that she might be sick. Or hurt."

"She was pretty disturbed when she left. Maybe her anger caught up with her."

Faith winced at Leah's accusing tone. "I know she was angry with me. But that doesn't explain her not writing to you."

"I have to say, Faith, that I don't blame her for being angry. I think you treated her pretty shabbily."

The words hurt, and Faith wanted to explain. "Granted, I moved into the teacher's house. All the trouble that had been stirred up because of Sarah worried me sick. But I didn't know she would just up and leave."

Leah snorted a sharp breath. "What did you expect her to do? Hang around and watch you cozy up to Doc Litchfield?"

Faith's voice lifted. "I'm not cozying up to Joel. He's a friend who's trying to look out for me, that's all. Don't tell me Sarah used that as an excuse. She always runs from difficult situations. She ran before, when she thought I was going to marry Phillip-She didn't even talk to me about it, she just ran."

"That's not fair, and you know it," Leah said sternly. "Sarah told me she didn't want her feelings for you to cause a rift between you and Phillip. She thought it best to leave and let you go on with your plans. How could she know you loved her?"

"You're right," Faith said softly. "She didn't. I didn't know it myself until I saw her again and recognized who she was." Then she left, Faith thought, and a part of my heart went with her. Faith looked down at her entwined fingers then back at Leah. "Do you really think she ran this time because of Joel?"

"Partly that, and partly because of your attitude."

"My attitude?"

"You said it yourself, earlier. 'All the trouble that had been stirred up because of Sarah.' All Sarah did was try to help a colored man and his family. When you blamed her for the trouble that brought on, that hurt her. A lot."

Faith's hands curled into fists. "I know she didn't start the trouble, but when it turned violent, she seemed to be right in the thick of it. And Benjamin got dragged into it, too. Sarah knows how to take care of herself, but I couldn't stand the thought that Benjamin might get hurt. The Ku Klux Klan is a very real, very scary group. They kill people. I had to get him away from that danger." The emotion in Faith's voice intensified. "Just imagine, Leah, that Amy was in danger because of Phillip, and the only way to keep her safe was to leave him for eight months. Wouldn't you do it? Don't you understand?"

"I do understand that part. What I don't understand is why you laid all the blame on Sarah. You talk about being scared for Benjamin. Can't you see that Sarah feels responsible for you both? She was worried for Benjamin and you, and instead of supporting her, you got angry. Then you turned to Doc Litchfield."

"Joel's been trying to help."

Leah waved her hand. "Everything that happened seemed to be sucking all three of you into more violence. Then you turned your back on her and compounded her misery. By my guess, Sarah ran away because you're part of the problem. She needs your approval and support, and when you got angry with her, she was confused about how to handle it."

"You don't understand. No one understands." Faith felt like a fly caught in a sticky web with no way out.

"Understand what?"

"I was told some men planned to kill Sarah if she didn't stay away from me."

Leah looked startled. "What?"

"Yes, and between worrying about that, and worrying about Benjamin, and yes, worrying about myself, I was overwhelmed. I wasn't sure what to do. When Sarah said she was leaving, I was torn between wanting her to stay and wanting her to be safe."

"Why didn't you tell her that?"

"You know Sarah. She might have stayed just to show she wasn't afraid of anyone. I had to let her leave and pretend I didn't care." Faith hunched over and rubbed her face. After a moment, she sat up. "I honestly didn't think about how my actions looked to her. She must have believed I was truly leaving her."

"Are you?"

The question jolted Faith, and her own words startled her even further. "I don't know."

Once Rusty embraced the idea of learning to read, she went at it like a crow pecking seed in a cornfield. Sarah made a chart of all the letters, both printed and cursive, and their sounds, and they went over and over it until Rusty had memorized them all. Then Rusty sat shoulder to shoulder with Sarah as she related her tales of her early life, watched Sarah write the words, and repeated them as Sarah read them aloud.

This system worked well, and within a month, Rusty could read the familiar stories on her own. She insisted on reading them aloud to Mel. He was very supportive, even being receptive to the idea that Rusty could teach him to read after Sarah left.

"Do you have a post office box?" Sarah asked. She and Rusty had just finished another session and were sitting on the sofa together.

"No," Rusty said, "but we can get one."

"Do that, and I can send you some mail once in a while, and you can write back."

Rusty jumped up and danced excitedly. "That would be so nice. I ain't never got mail before."

In a surprise move, she plopped herself down in Sarah's lap and threw her arms about Sarah's neck. "You been so good to me, Sarah," she said softly. "I really want to do something to thank you." She pulled Sarah's head down, kissed her, and pushed her tongue past Sarah's lips.

Oh, God. Sarah's whole body ached with desire, and she gave in to the kiss and returned it. Rusty thrust her breasts against Sarah's and moved one arm to reach beneath Sarah's tunic. As soon as Rusty's hand touched her bare skin, Sarah broke off the kiss and pushed her away.

"Stop," she said in a hoarse voice. "I can't do this."

"Sure you can," Rusty said in a wheedling tone. "No one's here but you and me."

"I made a vow to Faith."

"But she's not here." Rusty ran a hand up Sarah's thigh. "She'll never know."

Sarah shoved Rusty's hand away and bolted up from the sofa. "But I'll know. I'm sorry, Rusty. You're a very attractive woman, and I like you a lot." Sarah broke out in a sweat, almost like with a sickness, but she didn't stray from what she knew was right. "But I love Faith, and I can't cheat on her."

"You're worried about her." Rusty's discerning remark startled Sarah.

"Yes, I am. We had a fight, and I stormed out and just kept going. I don't know how she feels about me now."

"If you care that much about her, you shouldn't be leaving her alone to wonder how you feel, just like you're wondering about her feelings. You should get yourself back there as soon as you can, sweep her off her feet, and tell her you love her. I like a woman of action, and I'll bet your Faith does, too. Whatever happens, you can't settle any argument when you're here and she's there."

Sarah rubbed the nape of her neck. She could see how her actions looked to Rusty, probably like a spoiled kid who ran off when she didn't get her way. Maybe Faith thought the same thing. Would Sarah's stubbornness push Faith toward Joel? Sarah's guts twisted. She had to get back before it was too late. "You're right. As soon as we can get out of here, I'll get on the train with Redfire and head home. I'm sorry I couldn't be the right one for you."

Rusty made a wry face. "I'm the one who should apologize. I told you I wouldn't cozy up to you unless you wanted me to, but you're so beautiful. With you right here in front of me all the time, I couldn't keep myself from trying. Please don't hate me for that."

Sarah reached for Rusty's hand and pulled her up off the sofa. She wrapped her arms around her and kissed her on the forehead. "I could never hate you. Let's just be good friends, all right?"

When Sarah heard Mel come in from outside, she let go of Rusty and stepped back.

"I guess I'll have to settle for that." Rusty gave a mock sigh.

"Settle for what?" Mel said.

"Settle for living with a pesky brother for the rest of my life."

Mel peered from one woman to the other. "You'll find someone else to live with, sis. I'm guessing you just accepted the fact that Sarah isn't the one."

"Yep. I offered her the world, and she said she already had the one she wanted."

Mel frowned and looked at Sarah. "You told us right from the beginning that you were promised to someone." Then he looked at Rusty. "But you didn't pay any attention to that? Shame on you then. You ain't getting any sympathy from me."

Sarah decided they needed a change of subject. "How much longer until we can get out of here?" Now that she'd decided to return home, the spring thaw couldn't come too soon for her. Her nerves had already started to jump.

Leah set her teacup on its saucer on the table. Her tone sharpened. "What does that mean, you 'don't know'?"

"Joel's asked me to marry him."

Leah drew in a sharp breath. "Are you going to?"

"I haven't answered him yet."

"So that line about him just being a friend who was trying to help you wasn't the whole truth?"

Faith answered reluctantly. "No. He's trying to persuade me that life with him would be safer and more acceptable than life with Sarah. Besides that, he says Sarah and I are living in sin."

"Ha! That's a good one. I'll bet he's committed more sins than either you or Sarah. Most of the men I've known sure have. So, would you settle on 'safer and more acceptable' in place of Sarah?"

"It's not that I want to replace Sarah. I have to think of Benjamin. Joel pointed out that, except for two train robberies, the Klan's only caused two more incidents in this area since Sarah left."

"I think I know the two he's referring to. The cowards set a flaming cross in Ezekial Perlmann's yard one time and busted the windows out of his tailor shop another time. The Perlmanns are one of the friendliest families in Bonneforte. They have a huge party planned for the whole town to celebrate their elder son's graduation from medical school. What have they done to provoke the Klan? Been born Jewish?"

"I have no idea what they might have done."

Leah waved her hand. "But the Perlmann attacks didn't have anything to do with Sarah. What does Benjamin think about you marrying Joel? Have you said anything to him about it?"

Faith's tone softened. "He doesn't like the idea. He loves Sarah." She stuck out her chin. "But it's not up to him. I'm the parent, and he'll do as I say."

"So Mama is God?"

Faith stiffened. "You don't like me much, do you?"

Leah lifted her arms, palms up, and dropped them. "Sarah loves you, and I love Sarah. Whatever choice she makes, I'll go along with. That includes you. But I find it difficult to like anyone who's hurting her."

"I'm not purposely hurting her."

"I'll try to accept that. As far as Doc Litchfield's concerned, please don't make any life-changing decisions until Sarah comes back. She deserves that consideration."

Faith felt a hint of sadness. "How do I even know she'll come back?"

Leah rose and went over to her. She gave Faith's shoulder a pat. "Sarah always keeps her word. Unless she's run into some kind of trouble that keeps her away, she'll be back. I know that."

Faith barely nodded.

At last, April brought spring to Wyoming. The middle of April to be exact. Snow was melting, streams were running deeper and wider, and the trees looked livelier as new growth became apparent. Squirrels, rabbits, and other small animals could be seen in the woods, and birds returned in droves, adding to the few that had stayed through the winter.

Mel and Sarah stood just outside the barn, enjoying the fresh air after a hard day's work. "Listen to the birds," Sarah said. "It's good to hear something break this eternal silence. I'm so glad spring's here."

Mel reached over and thumped Sarah's back. "Just think, no more snow shoveling." Sarah had seen his arm move and braced herself for the thump, an action Mel seemed to favor. She surreptitiously raised her own arm and gave him a thump that almost knocked him over. She'd reveled in doing that to other "thumpers" a time or two in the past.

"Right," she said and grinned when he made an obscene gesture toward her. "And no more cleaning the cave corral every week. The animals can be outside now. How soon do you think we can leave here?"

"Two weeks, maybe. I guess you're in a hurry, huh?"

"I have family and friends who have to be wondering where I am. I need to let them know I'm all right."

"I know it wasn't in your plans, but it's been good having you here," Mel said. "Not to mention how I've enjoyed just looking at you, even if I didn't stand a chance with you."

Sarah unconsciously raised a hand to her face, and Mel brushed it away. "Forget about those scars," he said. "In a way, they just make the rest of your face look prettier."

How kind of him to say that. How kind he had been right from the start, bringing her here to save her from being robbed. Though a funny thing had happened. One day she had noticed her bag of silver dollars had been moved. Out of curiosity, she counted the coins and discovered nine were missing. That surprised her. Why would Rusty or Mel take only nine coins? And which one took them? She decided not to push the issue with the Gunthers. They had given her so much that she felt they were welcome to the coins. In fact, she planned to leave most of them here when she left. She always carried a few extra in a sack in her saddlebags. She just wished whichever one took them had asked.

Sarah gave Mel a gentler thump on his back this time. "You're great for a girl's morale, Mel. You and Rusty both."

"I apologize for Rusty pushing at you the way she did. It's mighty lonesome for her up here."

"Forget it, Mel. I've been lonesome, too, so I know what she's going through. She's an attractive girl, and the way she can cook, she shouldn't have a problem finding the right person. She just has to keep looking." Sarah poked him with her elbow. "You, too. You're a good man. The woman who gets you will be lucky."

Mel blushed furiously. "I want Rusty settled first." He cleared his throat. "Tomorrow, we have to be getting the gold loaded on the wagon. As soon as the roads are clear, I can take it to town and get it smelted down." He took off his hat, ran his hand through his hair, and replaced the hat. "Thieves like to watch the roads coming down from the mountains. Do you think you can ride shotgun for me?"

Sarah grinned. "How about if I ride Spencer repeating rifle, instead?" She hesitated. "How come you don't take the gold down in a month or so? Wouldn't the thieves have stopped watching the roads by then?"

"They've been known to come right to a miner's cabin, rob him, and leave him dead. I don't want to put Rusty in danger like that, let alone myself. If people know I've cashed in my gold and the money's in the bank, we'll be a lot safer."

"All right, tomorrow we load the wagon."

"Right. Let's go eat."

After supper had been eaten and the kitchen area cleared, Sarah sat down next to Mel on the couch. Rusty headed toward her bedroom. "Aren't you joining us, Rusty?" Sarah asked.

"In a minute," Rusty said over her shoulder. She went into the bedroom and came out holding a large box with a ribbon tied around it and a fancy bow on top. She stopped in front of Sarah.

"I know we'll be going down the mountain soon, and I wanted to give you this." She handed the box to Sarah who was bewildered and curious.

Sarah untied the ribbon and opened the box. Inside, was a brown leather vest. "Oh," was all Sarah managed to say. She lifted the vest and examined it. Leather fringe ran across the back and the front, about breast high, and two pockets were set low in the front. Nine silver dollars had been pierced and sewed to the vest, one on each pocket, two on each side of the front just above the fringe, and three across the back. So that's where the coins went. Sarah looked up at Rusty. "This is gorgeous. And I'm sure it took a long time to make. I really appreciate it."

"Stand up and try it on," Rusty said.

Sarah stood. Rusty held the vest as Sarah put her arms through it and shrugged it on. "Perfect. It fits just right," Sarah said. "How did you put the holes in the dollars?"

"Banged them in with an awl when you were in the mine." Rusty blushed. "Those dollars are yours. I sneaked them out of your coin bag. I'm glad you didn't notice, because I wanted to surprise you."

Sarah threw her arms around Rusty's waist, lifted her up, and swung her around. Rusty squealed until Sarah put her back down. "I am surprised. Thank you. Every time I wear this vest, I'll think of you and Mel and how good you've been to me." Sarah let go of Rusty and made a small salute to Mel. "As far as sneaking the coins goes, I probably wouldn't have any at all if Mel hadn't rescued me."

Mel stood and smacked Sarah's shoulder. "All in a day's work," he said. "That's a mighty handsome vest, sis. I wouldn't mind having one myself after we trade in our gold. Think you could make me one?"

"I'd love to." Rusty smiled and clapped her hands. "Yours can remind us of Sarah. We'll all have a connection to one another."

"Connections are good," Sarah said. "I've enjoyed my time here with you two, but I have to admit, I'm getting excited about going back home."

"We'll miss you," Rusty said.

Sarah put one hand on the silver dollar on her left pocket. "I'll miss you, too, but I'll wear my vest a lot, so I'll be thinking of you often."

Sarah rode Redfire through the woods to the left of the gold-ore-laden wagon that Mel drove. The snow remaining on the ground muffled Redfire's steps. The Spencer rifle lay in the crook of her left arm, ready for use at a moment's notice. She couldn't see Rusty, who rode Painter on the opposite side of the trail. That was good. Keeping out of sight was the right idea.

Sarah wasn't able to make out the path down the mountain, but Mel had no difficulty, no doubt from having ridden it for two years. Something that she didn't consciously understand made her raise the Spencer and aim it forward.

Two dark forms on horseback appeared through the trees ahead of her. Their attention was focused on Mel and the wagon. She advanced a bit closer, lifted the rifle to her cheek, and thumbed back the hammer. One of the men, half-hidden by the second man, had his rifle braced against a tree and was taking aim on Mel. The second man turned toward Sarah and let out a yell. With a squeeze of the trigger, Sarah sent him flopping to the ground. As she worked the trigger guard, raising a second shot into the barrel, the other man moved his rifle from the tree and fired toward her. Sarah heard the whistle of the shell passing to her left. She thumbed back the hammer, took careful aim, and fired again. The man slumped to the side, slid from his horse, and fell to the ground.

Mel stopped the wagon and jumped down. Sarah rode quickly to meet him. "Mel," she whispered hoarsely, "I shot two. Go check them. Be careful. There might be more. I'll find Rusty." Mel ran into the forest, and she spurred Redfire across the trail. A shotgun blasted. A rifle fired almost at the same time. Sarah hurried toward the sounds, her eyes peeled for any movement. A standing horse, its saddle empty, appeared to the right of her. At the same moment, she spied a man standing behind a tree. He was aiming a rifle away from her.

She couldn't shoot him in the back. "Drop it," she called.

Instead, he jumped behind another tree and brought the rifle to bear on her. Where was Rusty? Shooting the high-velocity Spencer in her direction could be dangerous if she missed the man. She needed to get closer and use her revolver. Sarah dropped her Spencer to the ground and bolted off of Redfire. She lunged for a wide tree and shifted her Colt smoothly from her holster. The man shot, but missed, and she breathed a little easier.

His next bullet chipped some bark from the tree she hid behind. Pretty good aim. Did he have a repeating rifle? Dare she chance that he didn't? She recalled the shotgun had gone off first, then the rifle right behind it. Rusty must have missed. She could be lying somewhere, hurt or worse. She had to move.

She ducked her head out from behind the tree and quickly pulled back. The man took a shot at her. After he did, she ran zigzag toward him until she could see him clearly. As she had hoped, he was still loading his rifle. She stopped, aimed her pistol, and fired just as he raised the rifle toward her. He went down like a felled tree.

"Rusty," Sarah yelled, "are you all right? Where are you?"

Nothing stirred for a moment, and Sarah's heart beat like a trip-hammer. "Rusty?"

She heard a faint answer. "Over here."

Sarah ran toward her. She found her on one knee behind a stout tree trunk. Painter stood nearby, nibbling at a bush. Rusty had the shotgun pointed in Sarah's direction and never lowered it. Sarah knelt beside her. "Are you all right?"

Rusty looked at Sarah with wide eyes. "I heard some shots. Then I saw a man. I shot him." She pointed to her right. "Over there. We fired at the same time, but his bullet hit a tree." She took a deep breath. "I hit him. I jumped off of Painter and got behind the tree. I was afraid he might not be alone, and he wasn't. I saw another man take off in the direction you just came from. I thought sure he'd come back after me. Did you get him?"

Sarah put a hand on Rusty's shoulder. "I did. And two others on the other side of the trail. You can relax now."

"Those shots I heard...is Mel all right?"

"Mel's fine. Come on, let's go see him."

Rusty stood up stiffly, her face ashen. She thrust the shotgun toward Sarah, and Sarah lifted it from her hands.

"Is this the first time you've shot anyone?" Sarah asked.

Rusty nodded and shivered. "No matter what he's done, I hope he's not dead. I don't even like to shoot animals. Mel does all the hunting." Sarah put her arms around Rusty and hugged her. Even with a heavy coat on, Rusty felt almost insubstantial. Not like Faith. Faith was an armful. Sarah stifled a wry grin. And a handful, in every sense of the word. The thought made her arms yearn to hold Faith.

She released Rusty and stepped away. "Stay here. I'll check on him." Sarah came right back, leaving a spotted trail of blood as she dragged a man behind her. "He's alive, but unconscious. We need to get them all in the wagon and take them to the sheriff. I didn't see his horse." Rusty grabbed Painter's trailing reins and held the mare still while Sarah loaded the man across Painter's rump.

Sarah led the horse toward the wagon, with Rusty walking alongside. On the way, they passed the other man Sarah had shot. She stopped and checked him, only to find he was dead. "We'll come back for him," she said. She picked up Redfire's reins, and she and Rusty continued walking until they arrived at the wagon.

Mel had retrieved the first two. Their bodies lay on top of the boxes of gold ore and their horses were tied to the back of the wagon. "Thank God, you're both all right. I heard shots and was just ready to come after you." Rusty ran toward him and they hugged. "I'm glad you're all right, sis." Mel patted her back then they let go.

"I see you got another one," he said to Sarah.

"This one's Rusty's. He's alive," Sarah said. "Couldn't find his horse. There's another one back there, dead. And another horse." She helped Rusty climb onto the wagon seat and tied Painter with the other horses.

"These two are dead, too." Mel and Sarah loaded the wounded man onto the wagon. "I'll help you get the other man."

"No need. I'll toss him onto his horse. Just try to calm Rusty. She's pretty upset at shooting a man."

"Yep. I remember the first time I ever shot one. Up close anyways."

"So do I. I guess most people never forget that." A picture of a young officer, bright red blood gushing from his eye, leaped into her mind. She switched her thoughts to rid herself of the horrible sight. "I'll get Redfire and the dead man and be right back." And my rifle. Don't want to leave that behind. Who knows when I might need it again? Never, if I had my way. But life holds few guarantees. Of anything.

Chapter Eleven

Mel steered the wagon through the streets of Laramie. A number of people, mostly men, walked about. Pieces of discarded paper and other debris mixed with the dust being blown about by the light breeze. It felt ten degrees warmer here than on the mountain, Sarah surmised. As they passed a tent advertising food, she smelled what could be sausage and heard the deep laughter of men. Farther down the street, which was lined with tents, wood-frame buildings, and an occasional brick one, they came to a doctor's office. Mel pulled the wagon to the side, got down, and tied it to the hitching rail.

Sarah rode Redfire to the side where Rusty sat. "You all right, now?"

"I think so. I almost threw up on the way down the mountain, but I feel pretty good now."

Sarah chuckled. "Wouldn't be the first time someone got sick in this wagon. When Mel first brought me home, I think I left half my innards along the trail." Not a great topic of conversation, Sarah thought, but maybe it would take Rusty's mind off the shooting.

Mel came out of the office with a man behind him. "This here's Doc Tobin. He says to bring everyone inside, even the dead ones. He's the coroner, too." Mel reached for the wounded man. Sarah dismounted, tied Redfire to the back of the wagon, and hurried to help him. They carried the man into the doctor's office and laid him on a table.

"We'll tie their horses to the hitching rail," Sarah said as the sheriff came in the door. She nodded to him. "One horse got away."

"Sheriff Boswell," the doctor said by way of introduction. "I think you know Mel Gunther and this here's his partner."

"Coulter," Sarah said.

The sheriff shook hands with Mel and Sarah. "What happened? Try to ambush you?"

"Mel," Sarah said, "suppose you tell him about it, and I'll go back outside with Rusty. I don't like leaving her alone with the wagon." Mel nodded and Sarah went out. She untied the extra horses from the back of the wagon and hooked their reins to the hitching rail.

Soon the sheriff and Mel returned, and with Sarah's help, they carried the dead men into the doctor's office. "Far as I'm concerned," Boswell said, "you're free to go. Just stop back when you've finished your business, and we'll sort through all this and get you to sign some papers."

Sarah frowned. "Does that mean me, too?"

"Did you kill any of these men?"

Sarah tugged at the neck of her tunic. "Uh...all of them."

"Then it means you, too."

Sarah had mixed feelings about the killings. The thieves had taken a chance and put themselves in danger. They probably would have killed Mel and Rusty without second thoughts. Sarah didn't enjoy taking anyone's life, but in this case, she hadn't had much choice. Having to shoot hurriedly and from a distance didn't allow time to try for a nonfatal spot. She just aimed at their chests, the widest area.

What would Faith think? That question made her really uncomfortable. Again, Sarah hadn't asked for the violence, it had just happened. Was she a magnet for it? She sighed. As far as she was concerned, she'd had enough violence to last her the rest of her life.

"We'll do that, Sheriff. Thanks," Mel said. They went back to the wagon. "Sarah, do you want to do your telegraphing while we go to the smelter?" Mel climbed onto the wagon seat and gave Rusty a slight bump with his shoulder.

Sarah untied Redfire and mounted. "No, I'm going with you to the smelter. I'm not leaving you until I know you and your gold are safe."

"My gold? Part of it's yours, too."

"Oh no. Keep that part as room and board. That's only fair."

"No, it ain't. You worked hard for it. It's only fitting that you should have a share."

Sarah rode Redfire up next to him and tugged on his arm. "Mel, I insist. I don't need the gold. I won't tell you my address unless you promise to keep every bit of it."

Mel opened his mouth, but Rusty beat him to it. "For gosh sakes, Mel, promise her. You know Sarah by now. What she says, she means. She won't take the gold. I want her address so I can write to her. She said I could, and I want to." Rusty turned on her most charming smile. "Besides, you know I'll pester you to death, if you don't."

Mel threw up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "All right, all right. God knows I can't win an argument with one woman, let alone two."

Sarah winked at Mel. "I guess Rusty's feeling better. She's got her tongue back."

Mel hooted and Rusty punched his arm. "I'd smack you, too, Sarah, if I could reach you."

Sarah leered at her. "Unlucky me."

Mel snickered. "All right, you two. Let's go get our ore smelted." He shook the reins, clucked to Brownie, and started off.

When the ore had been unloaded, Sarah left Mel and Rusty to take care of the buying and selling details. She stopped in one of the stores. While there, she got directions to the telegraph office from the shopkeeper. She continued on to the telegraph office and sent a message to Faith and the same one to Leah and Phillip. "Snowed in for the past three months. Coming home. Love, Sarah." She didn't put a time to expect her. She knew any unforeseen delays would only worry them more. She sent wires to her parents and Scott and Lindsay that she was all right and was on her way home to Bonneforte.

When she went to the Union Pacific train station, Sarah was surprised to see the ticket seller was a woman. She assumed that was because of Wyoming Territory's new law allowing women to be equal to men in voting and holding office. That probably had filtered down to civilian jobs. "I need a ticket on the next train for Missouri, Bonneforte, Missouri."

The woman checked a schedule. "That leaves at 6:30 tonight."

When Sarah gave her name to be added to the passenger list, the woman behind the counter peered at her. "I don't mean to offend you, but are you a man or a woman?"

Sarah paid her more attention. She was a nice-looking woman, medium size, dark hair, eyes the color of the center of that flower, Black-Eyed Susans. Near Rusty's age. A smile twitched at Sarah's lips. "No offense taken. I'm a woman, Miss...?"

"Miss Elgin." A grin creased the woman's face. "I thought so, judging from your name. Not often we see a woman in men's clothing. I like the idea. Maybe the time will come when all women can dress however they want to."

"Maybe so. Pants are sure more practical than dresses. For most things."

Miss Elgin laughed aloud. "Too bad you're leaving town, Miss Coulter. I like your sense of humor." She twirled the pen she held, and her tone deepened. "Can I do anything else for you?"

Sarah groaned inwardly. Not that she would ever cheat on Faith, she didn't even want to, but where were these attractive women when she was single? "I'm taking my horse with me."

Miss Elgin wrote something next to Sarah's name on the list. "That will be six dollars. Three for you and three for your horse."

Sarah counted out the coins from what was left in her bag. She'd dumped most of them into a kitchen drawer at the Gunthers' house. She put the bag away.

Miss Elgin stamped the ticket and passed it to her. Sarah slipped it into her hip pocket.

"Will you be coming back to Laramie?"

"I'm not sure. But I do have someone I'd like you to meet."

"Oh?"

Now Sarah pitched her voice lower. "I think you two might have a lot in common."

Sarah and Miss Elgin looked at each other silently, until Miss Elgin said, "When will I meet this...person?"

"She'll be with me when I return to the station. She and her brother."

Miss Elgin's lips curved upward slightly. "I look forward to meeting her."

Sarah left and met up again with Mel and Rusty. "I got a train ticket for tonight, 6:30."

Rusty looked sad. "So you really are leaving."

"Yes. But let's get things straightened out with the sheriff first." They went to the sheriff's office and left the wagon and Redfire tied to the hitching rail. Rusty walked behind the wagon and gave Painter a pat. "I haven't deserted you, girl. But the wagon's more comfortable." She rejoined Sarah and Mel and the three of them entered the office.

They described in detail everything that happened during the attempted robbery and signed the written version the sheriff provided. Afterward, they walked to the train station with Sarah leading Redfire. Before they got to the station, Sarah stopped near a bench and tied Redfire to it. "Wait here a minute. I have something for you." Mel and Rusty looked at her quizzically and sat on the bench Sarah had waved them toward.

She entered the store and returned carrying two oblong packages. "These are for you." She handed one to each of them.

"What is it?" Rusty asked even as she tore off the paper. "Sarah!" She looked toward Mel and waited until he opened his package. They smiled at each other then at Sarah.

"This is really nice, Sarah," Mel said.

"Nice?" Rusty said. "They're beautiful." She blushed. "If you can call a drawing of yourself beautiful." She leaned toward Mel. "Yours is beautiful, too."

"It sure is," he agreed. "Thank you, Sarah. This means a lot to me."

"You're welcome. I'm glad you like it."

Rusty laid her framed portrait carefully on the bench and leaped up. She threw her arms around Sarah's neck and stood on tiptoes to kiss her cheek. "Glad? I'll treasure this, and I know Mel will, too. Thank you so much."

Sarah hugged her back then stepped away. "You made me the vest to remember you by, and now you have something to remember me by."

Rusty picked her picture up. "As though teaching me to read wasn't enough. I'll never forget you. I hope you decide to live here, and we'll be neighbors."

Mel rose. "You were a big help with the mining and cutting the wood, too. You don't owe us anything. Rusty's got it right. We owe you. Thanks again." He held his portrait so he could see it, and his mischievous grin appeared. "And thanks for making me look so good."

Sarah thumped him on the back one last time. "You do look good." She started walking. "But we better get to the station so I can make sure Redfire is loaded all right. Also," she said as they came to each side of her, "there's someone at the station I want Rusty to meet. The ticket person's a woman."

Mel lifted his eyebrows in question, and Rusty said with mocking scorn, "What do you mean? Are you trying to fix me up with someone?"

Sarah raised her hands shoulder high. "That's not up to me. I'm just introducing you to her." Rusty opened her mouth, but Sarah spoke ahead of her. "Wait until you meet her and then argue with me if you want to."

She tugged on Mel's sleeve and said in a loud whisper, "I don't think she'll argue."

Chapter Twelve

1871—Missouri

Clack, clack, clack, clack. Sarah tried to sleep in her compartment, but the monotonous noise generated by the train wheels seeped into her whole body. She received some respite when the train stopped to pick up passengers at other stations. Uncharacteristically impatient, she wasn't sure which bothered her more, the incessant clacking or the numerous stops and starts. She had to keep reminding herself that every clack, every stop brought her closer to home. Closer to Faith.

She imagined several scenarios. What should she say to Faith? Would saying "I'm sorry" be the right approach? Would Faith even speak to her? She recalled that Rusty said to sweep Faith off her feet, but Rusty didn't know her redhead. Faith could just as easily knock Sarah on her ass.

Going around and around with confused thoughts eventually wore her out enough to suppress the effects of the noisy, jerky train trip.

Each night, she managed some fitful sleep, but not enough. Early on the morning they were due to arrive at Bonneforte, the train came to a sudden stop, unlike the slowing down done at a station. Passengers looked around at each other as though one of them would explain what was happening.

Sarah lifted a window and looked toward the front of the train. She blinked against the soot and ash emitted by the smokestack and put her hand over her nose to avoid the strong odor. The edges of some kind of debris stuck out from the track just ahead of the engine. No trees were near enough to have fallen on the track. Robbers. A chill went up her spine. Maybe she really did attract violence.

The back door of the passenger compartment banged open. Four men rushed in. Pillowcases covered their heads, and sheets draped their bodies. Sarah hadn't heard of the Ku Klux Klan robbing trains. Or was their apparel meant to be misleading?

Two men carried shotguns. The other two held pistols. All were aimed at the passengers. One shouted in a disguised voice, "Put your hands in the air and stand up. No tricks and you ain't going to be hurt."

The passengers stood and one of the intruders went seat by seat, collecting the guns and putting them in a burlap bag. "Empty your pockets and purses. Put your money and jewelry on the seat," the apparent leader said. "Everything that's worth anything."

As another man collected the discarded items, the leader stopped next to Sarah, who was standing near the aisle. He peered at her, then pushed her hat off with the tip of the gun's barrel. The hat fell onto the floor. She didn't move. The man looked down at the contents of Sarah's pockets that she had put on the seat. He pushed the coins and comb and spectacle case out of the way and laid bare the folded and tied piece of leather. "What's this?"

"Nothing of value to you," Sarah said.

He stuck the pistol in his belt and picked the leather up. He untied it, opened it, and barked a short laugh. "Hah. A lock of your sweetheart's hair?" He scraped the hair loose with his fingernails and tossed it into the air. The hair fell in a clump at his feet, and he ground it into the floor of the passenger car. Sarah noted that his boots were plain with nothing distinguishing about them. He ground his foot against the red hair once more, and Sarah made a motion as if to step forward. He grabbed the neck of her shirt and laid his gun barrel alongside her face. His voice sounded guttural. "You want to start something? You want more scars like you already got?"

Sarah smelled the mixture of metal and oil and another substance as the cold barrel pushed against her cheek. Calm down, she told herself. She could get another lock of hair. "No," she said in a steady voice. "No trouble."

"Bitch," he said in a low growl. He shoved her down onto the empty seat next to the window and smacked her across the head with the side of the gun. That was the last she remembered until she came to.

A woman held a cloth against her head. "Are they gone?" Sarah whispered.

"Yes, thank goodness. They took all our belongings and left. Some of the men are clearing the track so we can continue."

"Did the robbers hurt anyone else?"

"No, just you, Mr....?"

"Coulter," Sarah said. She didn't feel a need to explain she was a woman. There'd been enough stir already. She put her hand on the cloth. "I can hold this now. Thank you for your help, Miss...?"

"Schumacher. You're welcome. I hope your head doesn't hurt too much." She pointed to Sarah's suit jacket. "I cleaned your face, but you bled some on your clothes."

Sarah smiled wryly. "My favorite suit."

Miss Schumacher touched her own right ring finger. "They took my favorite ring. It was a cameo with a woman's head in profile on a rose-colored background. My mother gave it to me before she died." Tears spilled slowly down her cheeks. She tugged an embroidered handkerchief from her sleeve and patted her face dry.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Sarah said. "Maybe the sheriff can catch the thieves and get it back for you." On the seat next to her, she saw the piece of leather and handkerchief that had held Faith's hair. She picked them up, refolded, and pocketed them, wondering when, and if, Faith would give her another lock.

By the time they reached Bonneforte that afternoon, Sarah's nerves were frazzled. All the passengers were held on the train until the sheriff could be fetched to question them. When Sheriff Schmidt arrived, he set up a table on the platform. The conductor directed the passengers to form a line in front of the table. Sarah got permission to get Redfire first.

She paced up and down the platform, waiting for him to be unloaded. As soon as she saw him being walked down the ramp, saddled and ready to go, she hurried to him. The man leading Redfire handed her the reins, and Redfire banged his head into Sarah's arm. She slapped his shoulder. "Hi, Red. Bet you're anxious to get moving." He whickered as though agreeing with her.

Sarah opened the saddlebag, retrieved a sack that held a few coins, and gave the man a silver dollar. "Thank you for caring for him." After leading Redfire off the platform, she hitched him to a rail and pulled another Colt from the saddlebag to replace the stolen one. She slipped the pistol into her holster and joined the tail end of the line of passengers.

When Sarah got to the table, Sheriff Schmidt said, "Miss Sarah, glad to see you again. Wish the circumstances were different, though."

Sarah added her twenty-dollar loss to the list the sheriff was accumulating and straightened up. "Me, too, Sheriff. I didn't expect a train to be robbed so close to home. The thieves were dressed like members of the Ku Klux Klan."

"So I heard. I had suspected as much."

"Has this happened before?"

"Twice. Shortly after you left and again about two months ago. Never found enough clues to be much help. One of the passengers told me you got hit in the head. Are you all right?"

Sarah removed her hat, tilted her head to the side, and pointed to the laceration. "He whacked me here, for no real reason. Just plain cussedness, I guess."

"You ought to get Doc Litchfield to take a look at that."

"No, I'm all right." Doc Litchfield was the last person she wanted to see, ever.

Schmidt pointed his pencil toward her holster. "They didn't take your gun?"

Sarah patted the Colt. "They did. I just grabbed this one from my saddlebag. I don't like to be traveling without one."

"Don't blame you. Always good to be prepared. Tell me anything you remember. Don't worry about repeating what I already know."

"The train stopped short. I stuck my head out a window and saw debris on the track. I had just shut the window when four men came in the back of the coach. Two had shotguns and two had pistols. We didn't have a chance to resist." Sarah paused to bring the scene to mind. "The leader wasn't dressed in a way to make him stand out. No one was. All had pillowcases over their heads and sheets draped around their bodies. Nothing notable about any boots I saw."

She explained about the lock of hair she carried and what the leader had done. "I did notice one thing. When he scraped the hair out of the cloth, I saw he had clean fingernails."

Schmidt paused in his note-taking and looked at his fingernails. He grimaced. "Not a working man, huh?"

"Hard to say. He could be a shopkeeper. Or a professional man. Maybe a lawyer."

"Could be. Or a doctor," Schmidt said. Sarah raised her eyebrows, and Schmidt looked up and grinned. "No love lost between you and the doc, is there?"

Sarah just snorted.

"Anything else you noticed?"

"When he put his gun up against my cheek, I smelled something besides metal and oil. Something I smelled before, but I can't think what it could be."

Schmidt stopped writing. "If you figure it out, be sure to tell me."

"I will." Sarah stuck out her hand, and Schmidt rose and shook it. "See you around, Sheriff."

As she walked away, something kept nagging at her mind, as though she'd forgotten to tell Schmidt everything. Maybe she'd recall it later.

She hurried to Redfire, mounted, leaned forward, and patted his neck. She walked him toward her former home, giving his muscles time to loosen after five days cooped up on a train.

As much as she wanted to see Faith, she realized the better plan would be to stop at the house, clean up a bit, and rest. And eat. She almost foamed at the mouth thinking of eating food prepared by Leah. Sarah doubted she would ever become attached to train food. At least not until it improved.

In due time, she nudged Redfire into a trot and heaved a sigh of relief when the house came into view. As soon as she tied Redfire to the hitching post, she heard the door open and Leah came hurrying across the porch toward her.

"Sarah, how wonderful to see you." She met Sarah at the top of the porch steps, and they embraced. "Welcome home, darlin'. We didn't know when you might arrive." She leaned and looked more closely at Sarah. "What happened to you?" She took Sarah's hat off her head. "Bang your head on something? It looks pretty fresh."

"I'll tell you everything when we get inside."

"All right." She took Sarah's hand. "Come in and tell me all about your travels. I'm so glad you're home." Leah kept talking as she led Sarah inside and hung her hat on the rack in the entry hall.

Sarah followed her into the kitchen, happy to let Leah take charge. Leah and Faith were about the only two people Sarah would let boss her around without incident. And Lindsay. Sarah gave a fleeting thought to her sister-in-law and the talks they had.

"Sit," Leah said. "I was just having coffee. I'll get you something to eat. Are you hungry?"

Sarah sat with her back to the warm fireplace. "Starved."

Leah grinned. "For a minute there, I thought you'd lost your voice."

"For a minute there, I thought I'd never get a chance to talk."

Leah smacked Sarah's shoulder. She let out a giggle when Sarah grabbed her around the waist and pulled her onto her lap-Sarah squeezed her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "You have no idea how much I've missed your nagging," she said with a puff of laughter. She let go of Leah, who stood up, straightened her dress, and leaned over and kissed Sarah's cheek.

"And I've missed your ornery hide, too." She poured Sarah some coffee and sat down. "Tell me what happened to your head."

After Sarah told the story of the train robbery, Leah looked angry. "There've been a couple of other train robberies by the Klan, but they've never beat on anyone. Why pick on you?"

"The leader messed with my belongings, and without thinking, I stepped toward him. I guess he didn't like that. But forget about that for now. Didn't you mention something to eat?"

"Oh yes. I'm sorry." Leah jumped up and busied herself gathering food. "I'm having pork roast for supper, so how about I cut a few slices and make you a pork sandwich for now? Save your big appetite for later."

"That's perfect. How are Phillip and the children?"

"They're doing well. They'll be delighted to see you. Amy's had her nose pressed to the window for the last two days. I kept telling her you couldn't get here that fast, but she paid me no mind."

"It's past school time. Where is she now?"

"She and Phillip went to town to buy him a new hat. She insisted on going with him, said his last hat was a disaster. The baby's taking his afternoon nap."

Leah set a plate holding a sandwich on the table and added silverware and napkin. She poured two cups of coffee and sat across from Sarah. "You look tired."

"I'm exhausted. You would think five days on a train would give me plenty of rest, but I didn't sleep much." She wolfed down half of the sandwich.

"Why was that? Too noisy?"

"Partly. And partly because I couldn't stop wondering about Faith." She hesitated. "I'm not sure how she'll react to my return."

"Did she know you were coming back now?"

"Yes, I wired her the same message as I did you. I'm home earlier than she first expected, though. School's not out for the year yet. I kept thinking about Joel Litchfield seeing her every day, and I couldn't stay away any longer."

"Sarah, I have some bad news about Joel Litchfield."

Sarah couldn't read Leah's expression, but the tone of her voice made Sarah's heart leap with apprehension. Had Faith already chosen him? "What? What is it? Tell me, for God's sake."

Leah patted her arm as if to calm her. "This isn't about Faith, at least not directly. Litchfield seems to have everything a woman would want in a husband, and I began to wonder why he'd never married. So the next time I saw JoBelle, one of the girls from the tavern, I had a talk with her."

Sarah didn't need Leah to spell out that she'd explained some of her past to the girl in order to get information from her. A feeling of warm gratitude spread through her. Leah had worked hard to leave her past behind her and build a new life. To jeopardize her current reputation for Sarah's sake touched her deeply.

"So," Leah said, "I asked her if the doc ever visited her or the other girls, in a non-medical way. She said no, but I should check Calleton, two towns away. One of the girls there was a friend of hers and told her they often had customers from Bonneforte. She gave me the girl's name and how to contact her. So I did."

Leah stopped to refresh their cups of coffee. Sarah was on tenterhooks. She could barely restrain herself from yelling at Leah. She felt like saying, "To hell with the coffee. Talk!"

Before she burst with curiosity, Leah sat back down and continued. "First, I went to the newspaper office. I told them I was considering a piece on doctors in the county and asked if they had pictures of any of them. One of those was a good, clear picture of Litchfield. I took that with me when I went to Calleton and showed it to JoBelle's friend, Trudy. She recognized him right away. He started coming there a couple of years ago, but under a different name."

Sarah could feel a sneer growing on her face, but she kept quiet and listened as Leah went on.

"Trudy said he had a long history at the Crossroads Tavern, both for visiting the girls and for gambling. She said he did all right gambling until eight or nine months ago, then he started losing. But he never seemed to run out of money. In fact, lately he'd been giving some of the girls presents, and you know they all liked that."

Something niggled at the back of Sarah's mind, but she ignored it. "So why the hell is he after Faith?"

"Maybe he's looking to settle down and raise a family."

With a snort, Sarah jumped up and started pacing. "Not with my woman. I'll skin him alive if he even touches her." Had he touched her? Just the idea made Sarah want to throw up. A sudden question occurred to her. "Did you tell Faith about him?"

Leah raised her hands, palms up. "I learned all this just after I got your telegram. I figured I'd let you tell her."

"Good. I'm looking forward to that." Sarah stood up. "I'm going to go see her now."

Leah reached again for her hand and pulled her down. "No, you're not. You've had a long trip, and you said yourself, you're exhausted. Stay here. Take a bath. Have supper with us. Then get a good night's rest here in your own bedroom. Tomorrow's Saturday. You'll have plenty of time to see Faith. You'll look better, and you'll be in a lot better shape to face down Litchfield if you have to."

Every particle in Sarah's body ached to see Faith, but she realized Leah's words made sense. And after five days on the train, she certainly needed a bath. She wanted to look her best for Faith. She suddenly felt too tired to move.

Leah must have sensed it. "You stay right here. I'll fill the bathtub and lay out a towel and clean clothes for you. Phillip can take care of Redfire when he gets home."

Sarah used the table to push herself to her feet. "I'll fill the tub. I can still stagger that far." It helped that a tub was in the washroom right next to the kitchen. Sarah had carried many a bucket of hot water from the pot hanging over the fireplace to the washroom. The familiarity of it flowed over her. She was really home. No, her heart told her. It didn't feel like home when Faith wasn't here.

Sarah couldn't generate any energy. "Leah," she called up the stairs. "Don't bother laying out any clothes, just bring me a nightshirt, please. I need to go to bed."

Exhaustion brought one good result. Sarah slept soundly all night. She woke early in the morning feeling refreshed for the first time in days. She opened her eyes and looked around the room. Sunlight coming through the eight-paned window painted small blocks of gold across the bed. She threw back the heart-covered quilt and rose. She had opened the window before getting in bed yesterday, and she stood a moment breathing in the air. The sweet smell of lilac wafted in, and she could picture the flower bushes Faith had planted at the side of the house, some white, some light violet.

Nothing in her room had been moved. Her brush and comb lay on the same bureau, her underclothes and socks were in the drawers, and the closet held her shirts, jackets, pants, and boots. She supposed Phillip and Leah hadn't reached her room yet to box up her belongings.

She was surprised to see a letter addressed to her and Faith, lying on the bureau. She didn't recognize the Oklahoma return address. Curious, she opened it and looked at the printed signature. It was from Velia.

Dear Miss Sarah and Miss Faith,

Noah got a job on a big ranch here. He works with steers. I get to cook. Daniel is done skool and helps cleen barns. We is fine. Hope you ar to. Com see us somday.

Velia

Her heart lifted as she read, happy that her friends had found a spot to live a decent life.

Her stomach growled as the scrumptious smell of sausage and eggs rose from the kitchen. She could hear the rumble of Phillip's deep voice interspersed with the lighter tones of Leah and Amy. She laid the letter down. Splashing water from the pitcher that sat on the bureau, she washed her face and hands and dampened her hair. She dried her hands and combed through her hair.

Pleasantly surprised, she saw her vest, the gift from Rusty, hanging on the back of the straight-backed bedroom chair. Leah must have checked her saddlebags while she slept. Sarah donned her best navy blue pants and a pale yellow tunic and shrugged on the vest. She brushed her hair until it shone and tied it back. After slipping the letter into a pants pocket, she hustled down the steps.

"Good morning," the Showell family said in chorus. Phillip stood and came forward with his arms open wide. Amy jumped up, too, but politely waited her turn.

"Welcome home, Sarah." Like a friendly bear, Phillip enveloped her in his arms and gave her a hug. "Good to see you back all in one piece."

"Hello, Phillip," Sarah said, her voice muffled against his chest. Phillip was the only one of her friends who topped her height. She stepped back and gave him a friendly shove. "What do you mean, 'all in one piece'? Did you have any doubt that I could take care of myself?"

Sarah bent down to hug Amy. 'Hi, sweetheart. I'm sorry I didn't see you yesterday. I was too tired to wait up. But it's wonderful to see you now."

"Hi, Aunt Sarah. I'm just glad you're home. Come sit down. Mama cooked a special breakfast for us to celebrate that you're back." She took Sarah's hand, led her to a seat, and sat next to her. Sarah gave Leah's arm a pat as she passed her.

"To answer your question," Phillip said, "I have no doubt you can take care of yourself, Lady Blue."

"Ah, my old password. I haven't heard that since I left military service. I'd almost forgotten."

"I don't think I'll ever forget," Phillip said with a chuckle. "Theo told me many a tale of the questions, some ribald, his men asked him about the soldier who used a woman's title as a password."

Leah poured Sarah's coffee. "Ribald? Now there's a new word I'll be looking up."

"Knowing your brother," Sarah said, "half the stories he tells are probably fictitious." As soon as Leah sat back down, Sarah dug into her breakfast of sausage, eggs, biscuits, and fried potatoes. A plate full of frosted cupcakes sat to one side. "The food is wonderful, Leah. As usual." She glanced toward Phillip.

"How is Theo, by the way?"

"As a matter of fact, Scott's giving him more and more responsibility at the foundry. Says Scott's grooming him to take full charge of the mill and the office."

Sarah paused in her eating. "That's interesting. I never thought my brother would hand off his responsibilities to anyone outside of our family, although you and Theo both are practically family to us." She raised her eyebrows. "Is there any problem?"

Phillip swallowed a mouthful of biscuit. "Not that I know of. Leah, have you heard anything from Lindsay?"

Leah and Amy had finished their breakfast, obviously getting a start before Sarah came downstairs. Leah set her coffee cup in its saucer. "Lindsay did say that Scott hadn't been feeling well, but she didn't say anything specific about it. I hope it's nothing serious."

"I hope so, too," Sarah said. "Although I think Lindsay would say if it was."

"Now that you're home," Leah said, "maybe they could come and visit you."

"And where would I put them? Here?" Sarah finished eating one of the cupcakes.

"Of course, here. This is your home, isn't it?"

"No. It's your home now." Sarah looked from Leah to Phillip. "You did get the deed recorded?"

A slow smile grew on Phillip's face. "No, we were waiting for you to get back. Shortly after we moved in here, we decided that your decision to sell was made under a kind of threat. To you and Faith and Benjamin. You might have noticed that we left everything just as it was. We want to give you time to make the decision in a calmer atmosphere."

"In the meantime," Leah said, "the house is still yours."

Sarah was caught unawares. "I-I don't know what to say. You are two crazy, wonderful friends, and I thank you. I just...I can't come back here without Faith and Benjamin." She stood. "I need to go see Faith." Everyone at the table rose when she did. Amy began to clear the dishes. Leah came over and slipped her arm through Sarah's.

"Phillip and I already talked about it, and he'll stay with the children. I want to come with you." She held up her hand to stop Sarah's answer. "Not to come in with you. I just want to be available in case things don't work out the way you want them to."

It made sense. Leah had stood by Sarah in one of the worst times of her life. She would welcome having her support if this should turn out to be another worst time. Oh, God, please not. "I'll be grateful to have you along."

"Thank you. We'll take the buggy and hitch Redfire to the back. That way, if things turn out all right, I can come back home in the buggy. Phillip, will you please get them ready for us?"

"Right away." Phillip grabbed a hat and jacket and slipped out of the room.

"I have to change my clothes," Leah said. "I won't take long." She walked across the room to head for the stairs.

Amy had started to wash the dishes, and Sarah picked up a dish towel. "I'll help, Amy." She gazed at the towel decorated with yellow roses then waved it in the air. "I thought you didn't change anything," she said with a laugh.

Leah peeked back over her shoulder. "Well," she said, in a mock huff, "I had to put my mark on something." She continued on up the stairs.

"Aunt Sarah," Amy said, "are you here to stay?"

"I'm not sure. A lot depends on what Aunt Faith says. If she wants to keep teaching next year, it will have to be somewhere else and we'll have to move." Then what? Sarah wondered. Everything was up in the air until she and Faith came to some agreement about their future.

Amy dried her hands and put her arms around Sarah's waist. "I want you to stay."

"Don't you like living in this house?"

"I love this house, and so does Mama. But I want you to have it. You and Aunt Faith and Benjamin. I want things to be the way they were."

"So do I, sweetheart. So do I." Would they ever be the same? She gave Amy another hug then stepped back. "I have to get ready to leave now."

"Wait, I almost forgot. I have a surprise for you. Wait right here." Amy ran off and returned soon with a round, brown box tied with a big yellow ribbon. She handed it to Sarah. "Welcome home, Aunt Sarah."

Sarah untied the ribbon and lifted the box lid. Inside lay a deerskin cowboy hat with a wide brim and a rounded, shaped top. It had an earthy smell, like it had just come from the forest. "Amy, this is beautiful." She took it out, put it on, and walked over to look in the mirror that hung on the back of the door to the living room.

Amy walked beside her, clapping her hands. When they reached the mirror, she pointed to Sarah's image. "That looks a lot nicer than your old hat."

"It surely does." She picked Amy up, twirled her around and set her back down. "Thank you so much." She gave Amy a kiss on the cheek and let go of her just as Leah entered the kitchen. "Did you see what your lovely daughter gave me?"

"She showed it to me last night when she and Phillip got back from shopping. He told me Amy thought you needed a new hat worse than he did." Leah laughed. "She was right, so Phillip bought one for himself and let her pick out this one to give you. She made a fine choice." Leah had changed into a bright blue dress striped lengthwise with silver that flattered her ample figure.

"That she did," Sarah said. "I love it. Thank you all for thinking of me. Ready to go?" Sarah donned a brown, lightweight jacket, held Leah's navy blue coat for her to slip into, and they went outside. New hat, new vest, good pants. Sarah figured she was ready for anything and hoped for the best.

Sarah stopped the buggy at the schoolteacher's house. She sat for a minute and took a deep breath. Buck up, you ninny. It's now or never.

Leah touched her shoulder. "Good luck."

"Thanks." Sarah climbed down, hitched Drummer's reins to the rail, and walked toward the house. At the door, she took another deep breath and knocked. Nothing. Not even a dog bark.

Sarah knocked again, harder. But no one came. She walked back to the buggy, untied Drummer's reins, and climbed onto the seat beside Leah. "She's not home. Looks like Benjamin isn't there either. I didn't hear Paddy bark." Sarah had been emotionally prepared to face Faith, and that hadn't happened. Her shoulders slumped.

Leah prodded her, hard, with a finger to the ribs. "Don't go giving up." Prod. "The Sarah-Bren Coulter I know is a fighter." Prod. "Faith's probably in town. We'll go there." Prod.

"All right, all right." Sarah couldn't help giggling. She rubbed her side. "Your finger's a dangerous weapon, woman."

"So are your eyes."

Startled, Sarah looked right at her and raised her eyebrows.

"You heard me," Leah said. "You could lure any woman you wanted, with one loving look. Give Faith a dose of those eyes, and she won't stand a chance."

Sarah flicked the reins and clucked to Drummer. "I think you overestimate my powers." She turned Drummer toward the town.

"Oh, no, I don't. I'm in love with Phillip, but sometimes when you look at me, I have to catch my breath. I wonder...never mind what I wonder. Just remember what I said."

Sarah knew Leah was trying to bolster her courage. She could use all the bolstering she could get. How could she be so brave in other situations and so scared in this one? Admit it, she was scared. What was it she used to tell Scott when they were children? Act brave, and the enemy will think you are. Was Faith her enemy? She might be. Who knew what effect Joel's powers of persuasion might have had on her? That's what was scaring the hell out of Sarah.

Her mind shifted to Joel Litchfield. Something had been skittering around the back of her mind for a while now, ever since the train robbery. She jerked Drummer's reins and halted the buggy, and Leah gave a yelp.

"What's going on?"

"Hang on a minute. I need some time to think about something."

"Think about something? What on earth—"

Sarah waved a hand, and Leah quieted. Sarah let her thoughts dwell on the train robbery. A few things had slipped into the back of her mind, and she needed to bring them forward.

She recalled that when the thief grabbed the neck of her tunic and laid a gun next to her head, she had smelled a mixture of metal and oil and another substance. What was it? She had smelled it before, but where? She sniffed, trying to remember. On Faith's hand! Rosewater. She had asked Faith what it was, and she said Litchfield had patted her hand and must have transferred the scent to her. She explained that doctors use a mixture of glycerin and rosewater to keep their hands from drying out and from picking up odors.

All right, that was one memory. What was the other? This one took more effort, but she eventually dredged it up. The thief had called her "bitch." Everyone who didn't know her thought she was a man. So the thief knew her. It had to be Litchfield.

Sarah was getting excited. "Leah, when Trudy said Litchfield gave the girls presents, did she mention anything specific?"

"No. I didn't think to ask her about that."

"Can you go with me now to Calleton?"

"Sure, but why?"

Sarah shook the reins and started the buggy. "I need to talk with Trudy. I'll explain on the way."

"We'll probably have to drag her out of bed at this time of the day." Leah chuckled. "Catching up on her sleep, I mean, but I'm game."

Sarah could hardly contain herself on the way back from Calleton. Not only had Trudy verified that Litchfield gave the girls jewelry, but wonder of wonders, he had visited Trudy the night before and had given her a ring that sounded just like the cameo stolen from the lady on the train yesterday. She had no doubt that other jewelry could be tied to Litchfield, also. When Sarah had explained the train robbery circumstances, Trudy had agreed to appear in court and testify.

They had almost reached Bonneforte when Leah patted Sarah's thigh. "This might not bring Faith back, but it sure will keep her from making a huge mistake."

"I know. I can't wait to tell Sheriff Schmidt. I'd like to see that bastard's face when the sheriff takes him into custody." The thought gave her pause.

"What's wrong?" Leah asked.

"I'm being petty."

"That needn't keep you from telling me what you're thinking. We're all petty sometimes."

Sarah fought to keep her hand from shaking as she rubbed the back of her neck. "If Litchfield is out of the running, and Faith turns to me, how will I know I wasn't second choice?"

Leah gave a snort. "That's not being petty. It sounds to me like a reasonable question. But I can't help you with that, darlin'. Only Faith can." Leah gave Sarah a quick hug, bringing her some solace.

They rode along sun-flooded Main Street into the center of town and got down from the buggy. Sarah tied Drummer to the hitching rail, and they walked across the boardwalk toward the sheriff's office. Leah put her arm through Sarah's, and Sarah squeezed it against her side.

On such a lovely day, the stores were doing good business, and the streets were well populated. Men tipped their hats as they walked by, and Sarah nodded to them. Some she recognized and was gratified to see that they didn't seem to have any bad feelings about her. At least they weren't showing any publicly.

She and Leah went into the office.

"Ladies." Schmidt stood and waved toward the chairs. "What can I do for you?"

"Sheriff," Sarah said, "we're here to do something for you." She gave him all the information she and Leah had gathered.

The more she talked, the wider Schmidt's smile got. When she finished, Schmidt said, "I never have felt comfortable about Doc Litchfield. Too damn smooth. Guess my instincts were right." He reached into the desk drawer. "Just sign this paper, and I'll go pick him up. I can fill in the details later. And if you'll excuse me for a few minutes, ladies," Schmidt said with a red flush creeping up his face, "I have to make a trip out back before I can act on this." Sarah and Leah signed the paper.

"We'll wait for you outside," Sarah said.

When they got outside, Leah chuckled. "I guess even lawmen have to use the outhouse once in a while."

"I guess so," Sarah said. "We can walk toward Litchfield's office while we're waiting."

Chapter Thirteen

The hem of Faith's long green dress brushed the brown carpet as she moved across the empty waiting room. She knocked on the doctor's office door, and Joel opened it and smiled.

"Good." He took her hand and squeezed it. "I was hoping you could join me for dinner."

"I could hardly ignore a written invitation."

Joel turned away and walked to the counter behind him. "When Benjamin answered the door and you weren't home, I figured a written invitation was better than a spoken one. In my experience, youngsters often get engrossed in other activities and forget to pass along the message." From behind him, Faith saw him take the bottle of glycerin and rosewater from the shelf above the counter, pour some onto his hands, and set the bottle back.

He turned around. "You look lovely today." He rubbed his hands together and gave an almost wolfish grin. "As you always do."

Faith inclined her head. "Thank you."

He started to speak but hesitated. "Didn't...did Miss Sarah come home yet? I thought you expected her yesterday."

"I haven't seen her. Maybe she'll be in today."

"You will remember, won't you, not to frequent her company until the school year is over?"

Faith sighed. "I remember. That doesn't mean I can't say hello to her when she arrives."

Joel pursed his lips. "If you're wise, you'll stay away from her altogether. You don't want to give anyone fodder to cause trouble for you and Benjamin. Or for her." He reached for the doorknob, took hold of Faith's arm, and led her outside. "I thought we'd have dinner at the hotel."

Joel moved his empty plate away and leaned back in his chair. "Faith, we need to talk."

Faith looked up from pushing her sausage around with her fork. She hadn't had much appetite. Why had she agreed to come to dinner with Joel anyway? From the moment she had learned that Sarah was coming home, Joel had seemed more and more unattractive to her. In fact, his charming ways had struck a false note with her lately, and he was becoming disgustingly smug.

As if awakening from a bad dream, Faith realized that she couldn't protect Benjamin and Sarah and herself from all the dangers in the world. Neither could Joel. But she knew Sarah would try with all her might to protect them from whatever they might face. So would she, and together they made a formidable team. Sarah was the one she loved and wanted, not Joel. If she had to wait a bit more time to be free to get back with her, so be it.

"You," Joel said, "must get it through your mind that you need to ignore Sarah Coulter."

"I can't do that." Faith laid down her fork and blotted her lips with the linen napkin. Joel's cheeks had reddened, and he looked stern.

"Well, you have to. If you keep company with her, you stand the chance not only of losing your position at the school, but also in bringing trouble on yourself and Miss Sarah from the Ku Klux Klan."

"What do you know of the Ku Klux Klan? Why do they want to harm us?" Faith had a pretty good idea of what Joel would say, but she wanted to hear it from him.

"The Klan fights against people who are perverted. And Sarah Coulter, dressing like a man—trying to act like a man—is perverted. She's a woman and should dress and act like a woman." Joel plunged his forefinger against the table in staccato movements as though trying to drive his point home. "She's a disgrace."

"A disgrace to whom?" Faith felt her temper rising. "She's never hurt anyone in this town. In fact, she's helped more than a few. And she hasn't tried to make anyone else dress as she does. She feels comfortable that way. How is that hurting anyone?"

"If you continue to defend her, you'll be saddled with the same contempt that she's earned."

"I will always defend her. She hasn't earned any contempt. She's a better person than many of your prejudiced friends."

"Be careful. If you persist, I'll have to withdraw my offer of marriage."

Faith considered the smirk Joel wore. He must think that was the last thing she would want. Every word he said drove her farther from him and nearer to Sarah—if Sarah would still have her. Faith had treated her miserably, and she regretted it deeply. She stood up. "I do persist."

Joel stood, too, and threw his napkin on the table. His face contorted, and he hissed his words. "You won't get a second chance, you foolish woman. This is it."

"The only second chance I want is with Sarah. I love her. I know now that I've never stopped loving her. As soon as the school year's finished, I'm rejoining her." She turned and strode out of the room, not looking back, heedless of whether or not any other patrons had heard her heated remarks.

Joel bolted after her. "Wait. Perhaps I've been too hasty." He caught up with Faith as she stepped out through the door.

Sarah and Leah were about to cross Main Street. Leah tugged Sarah's arm and discreetly pointed. "There's Doc Litchfield, across the street. He just came out of the hotel, and Faith's with him."

Sarah squinted toward where Leah gestured. She moved to cross the street, and Leah restrained her. "Stay here, Sarah," she said in an urgent tone. "Let her come to you." Leah held onto her arm with two hands and pulled her along.

They walked a few more steps, before Sarah halted and refused to budge. Leah let out a pronounced sigh. Sarah looked down at her and spoke in a measured tone. "I understand what you're thinking, but the last time I ran from Faith, she came after me. Now it's my turn to go after her. Please don't try to stop me. Besides, I want to get her away from Litchfield before the sheriff shows up to arrest him."

Leah stood on tiptoes and kissed Sarah's cheek. "I hope you know best." She let go, and Sarah strode diagonally across the street, headed toward Faith and Litchfield.

She saw Faith look her way then turn back toward Litchfield. Sarah almost paused, but decided to carry on. "Bastard," she mumbled.

Faith stepped outside with Joel right behind her. "Hello, Mrs. Pruitt." Eric Stoudemeyer, the father of one of Faith's students, tipped his hat as he passed. "Nice day."

"Hello, Mr. Stoudemeyer. Yes, it is." Truly, it was. Soft clouds moved slowly across a sky as blue as bachelor buttons. Sunshine bathed the street and boardwalk except where porch roofs shadowed portions of the walk. An early shower had settled most of the street dust, keeping the town air clearer than usual. Too nice a day for so much stress.

Joel grabbed Faith's arm. She tried to shake him off and looked around to see whether anyone noticed. She gasped and put her free hand to her neck. "There's Sarah." All at once, the day looked even brighter and sunnier. "She's home."

She thought Sarah had seen her, but her happiness dimmed ever so slightly when Sarah dipped her head toward the woman who clung to her arm. Leah. She went to see Leah first. That fact hurt, even though Faith realized it made sense. After all, Leah and her family were living in Sarah's former home. And mine, Faith thought with a pang of regret.

She took a step in Sarah's direction, but Joel pulled against her arm, preventing her from going farther. "Stop, Faith. You're not going to make a fool of me by greeting that woman in view of everyone."

Faith looked up at Joel. His face had hardened, and his jaw was clamped shut as though expecting an argument.

Faith's temper stirred a little higher, but she tried to stay calm. "I just told you I love 'that woman,' as you call her. We haven't seen each other for months, and I refuse to ignore her." She pulled her arm from his and took another step toward Sarah. Her heartbeat quickened as she saw Sarah coming up the street, her lengthy strides rapidly shortening the distance. Her movements looked so forceful and elegant. Her hair was longer. And she had a new hat.

Joel grasped Faith's elbow once more and swung her around to face him. "You will not acknowledge her. Come with me." He tugged hard on Faith's arm, and she grimaced. She noticed passersby giving them startled looks and moving away from them.

"Let me go, Joel."

He yanked her so hard, she lost her balance.

From behind, a hand steadied her then nudged her aside. Another reached past her and closed on Joel's arm. Sarah had arrived.

Sarah dug her fingers into the muscle of Litchfield's upper arm. Her low-pitched voice sounded almost like a growl. "You heard Faith. Let her go."

Litchfield sneered. "Or what?" He pole-axed Sarah's arm with his other forearm. He looked surprised when she didn't budge. She made a fist and cocked her arm for a blow, but Faith grabbed her wrist.

"Sarah, please, no violence. We can settle this with talk."

Sarah stiffened. She glanced quickly at Faith then swiveled her hard gaze back to Litchfield. "We can talk when he lets go of you."

"Both of you," Faith said, "let go of each other. Right now." She drew her elbow from Litchfield's grasp and pushed Sarah's arm down. "I said now."

She could hear Sarah breathing hard and knew she was in a dangerous mood. But Sarah would never hurt her; Joel was the one in peril. Faith felt relieved when Sarah's fingers loosened and she released Joel's arm.

"Please give us a minute, Joel."

"Why? School's not out. She shouldn't even be here." Joel's eyes narrowed as he glared at Sarah. "Go back where you came from. Things were fine here without you around. You're nothing but trouble."

Sarah's face looked meaner than Faith had ever seen it. Her words were daggers. "I don't know what delusion you're suffering from. I don't have to listen to anything from you. Do as the lady said, and get away from her."

From the corner of her eye, Faith saw townspeople scurrying out of the street. Women screamed and a man yelled, "He's got a gun!" Almost at once, a shot sounded, and she jumped in startlement. A piece of wood flew from a nearby post.

"There's the bitch who killed my boy," Morton Blanton shouted. Obviously drunk, he staggered up the middle of Main Street waving his gun. People darted out of the street. Some ducked into doorways. "I'll give her what she deserves."

Sarah immediately stepped in front of Faith and reached for her Colt. But it never cleared the holster before another shot rang out. Faith heard a thud. Sarah slammed backwards into her. The new hat tumbled to the ground. Grabbing her under the arms, Faith barely kept from falling. She screamed, "Sarah!" as she lowered Sarah's collapsed body to the boardwalk.

Oh, God. Sarah's face was as white as a sheet. She wasn't breathing. She had a discolored gash on her forehead, but she'd been shot in the chest. The hole in her coat was over her heart. For Faith, the next few moments went by like a stereopticon slide show in slow motion. Blanton yelled and fired again. He was coming closer. Faith wrapped her arms around Sarah's shoulders. She pulled her into her lap and tried to shield Sarah's body with her own. She flinched as another shot sounded from close behind her. Something hit the ground. People came out of hiding and began to assemble around them. Leah plopped to her knees next to Sarah. Tears streamed down her face as she grabbed Sarah's arm.

"Sarah, Sarah! Oh, my God." Leah looked up at Faith. "Is she...?"

Faith gazed at her blankly. What a ridiculous question. The bullet had entered Sarah's heart. No one survived that. She managed to get the words past numb lips. "She's been shot in the heart."

"No!" Leah screamed. "No, no, no." She pulled Sarah's hand to her cheek. "Please don't leave us, Sarah. Please."

Sheriff Schmidt squatted next to them. "I shot Blanton. Doc's checking him now." He nodded toward Sarah. "How is she?" He gazed at Sarah and shook his head. His rough voice softened. "I'll send Doc right back for her."

The sheriff's words snapped Faith out of her funk. Sarah might be dead, but she deserved the respect of at least examining her. Faith would rather do that than leave it to Joel. "Leah," she said in little more than a whisper, "help me get her jacket off." She laid Sarah gently on the boardwalk, and they removed her jacket.

Leah shrieked and reached toward Sarah's chest. "Oh my God. Oh my God."

Muttering broke the silence of the nearest people gathered around.

Faith took one look and started crying. She lifted Sarah's head and shoulders back into her lap. She bent her head over Sarah's and her cascade of red ringlets veiled them both from the gazes of the spectators. She couldn't hold back the tears, and they poured from her eyes.

In spite of the streaming moisture, she saw Sarah's mouth drop open. A whistling sound happened as she sucked air into her lungs. After several jerky tries, she took one long, slow breath then gulped more and more air. Color came back into her cheeks, and her eyes opened. Faith lifted her head, blinked to clear her vision, and looked directly into Sarah's eyes. Faith about died of happiness.

Sarah touched her own chest and groaned. She raised her hand and stared at it. "What happened?"

Faith opened her mouth, but she couldn't speak. Tears still streamed down her cheeks.

Leah held up a bent silver dollar with the bullet stuck in it. She was crying, but now from joy. "Morton Blanton shot you in the heart. I mean he would have, but he hit this dollar and it saved your life. God bless the gal who made this vest for you." Leah pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and made an attempt to dry her own face.

Sarah rubbed the sore spot. "Rusty Gunther. Rusty made it for me." She reached up and wiped Faith's cheek. "Don't cry. I'm all right."

At last, Faith could talk. Her voice sounded forced. "You were dead. I was so sure you were dead." She shook her head. "It's a miracle you're not. I almost can't believe it. Oh, God, Sarah, I thought I'd lost you." She took a handkerchief from her pocket and dried Sarah's face of the tears that had fallen onto her. Then she dabbed at her own cheeks.

"Help me up, please." Sarah stood up with Faith and Leah supporting her. She wobbled a moment. "Thanks. I can manage now." They both hung onto her until she moved their hands aside. "I'm fine, honest."

"You're all right?" Sheriff Schmidt's surprise showed on his face as he approached through the crowd. He had Joel Litchfield in tow.

"Sure am." Sarah pointed her thumb at one of the silver dollars remaining on her vest. "The bullet hit one of these and got stopped. Good thing Blanton was pretty far away."

Litchfield gave her a flat look. "Lucky you."

Sarah gave him one back. "I won't need your help, so I guess we're both lucky."

Still holding Joel, Sheriff Schmidt tapped a fist on Sarah's arm. "For a minute there, you looked like you were dead. I'm glad to see you're not."

"Thanks, Sheriff."

Faith looked toward where Morton Blanton had fallen. Several men were carrying him off. "How is Mr. Blanton?"

"He's dead," Schmidt said.

Faith felt sympathy for his family. But he had tried to kill Sarah, and she felt none for him. Maybe the Ku Klux Klan attacks would fall off without him to lead them.

Faith picked up Sarah's jacket and hat and handed them to her. "Please come over later. We need to talk."

Joel took Faith's arm, and his annoyance showed on his face.

"She shouldn't be visiting you. Everyone in town is watching you right now. You'll be jeopardizing your position and, possibly, your safety."

Sarah took a step forward, but Leah quickly inserted herself between Sarah and Joel. "Perhaps you can visit Phillip and me, Faith. Bring Benjamin and join us for supper." She didn't even look at Joel. "No one can object to that."

Faith raised her voice. "Take your hand off me, Joel. I told you we're finished. I can't believe I ever listened to your self-serving gibberish."

"You're coming with me, Litchfield." Sheriff Schmidt pulled a set of Adams handcuffs from his pocket and fastened one around Joel's wrist. Joel looked dumbfounded. "What's going on? I haven't done anything."

"You'll hear all about it once I get you in a cell." Schmidt tugged on the cuffs and led Joel away as he loudly continued his objections.

"What's going on?" Faith looked at Sarah then at Leah.

"Get Benjamin and come on over to the house. We'll explain everything," Sarah said.

Faith yearned to put her arms around Sarah and kiss her, and of course she couldn't do that here in the street. She didn't even know whether Sarah wanted her to.

Later that afternoon, Benjamin steered the buggy toward the house that used to be theirs. Faith sat next to him, twisting her handkerchief around her fingers. They both had been silent for most of the journey, until Benjamin said, "Mama, I feel really bad about what happened to Aunt Sarah."

"So do I, Benjamin. Thank God she's all right."

"But it was my fault."

"What? Why do you say that?"

"I'm the one who killed Hiram Blanton, not Aunt Sarah." Benjamin sounded and looked miserable. He lifted a jacket-covered arm from the reins and wiped it against his cheek, giving Faith the first clue that he was crying. Society considered fourteen-year-old males to be young men, but there was still a lot of boy in them.

"Honey, Sheriff Schmidt didn't even give a second thought to accusing you of killing Hiram. He knew the Ku Klux Klan killed him. If they hadn't stirred up Hiram's hate, he wouldn't have kidnapped Aunt Sarah with the intention of hurting her. None of you would have been in that cave. You got accidentally caught up in his evil deed. It wasn't your fault."

Benjamin sniffled. "I keep telling myself that, but I still feel awful about it. Because of me, Mr. Blanton almost killed Aunt Sarah."

Faith didn't know what else to say to make him feel better. Then she had a thought. "I think you need to talk to Aunt Sarah about all this."

"Yes, ma'am," he mumbled.

"I need to tell you about something else that happened today."

Benjamin wiped his face again. Then he said, "What's that?" in an almost normal voice.

"I won't be keeping company with Dr. Litchfield anymore."

Benjamin jerked the horse to a stop and turned to Faith. In a split second, his expression went from mournful to being lit up like the sunrise. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

Benjamin wrapped the reins around the brake pole, put his palms together, and lifted his gaze to heaven. "Thank you, God." Then he turned to Faith with an ornery grin. "I knew he couldn't beat out Aunt Sarah."

Faith studied him for a moment. "You've never been pleased that I was seeing him, have you?"

"Nope." He took Faith's hand between both of his and shook it up and down, all the while looking at her with a sober demeanor. "Mama, I wouldn't trade one second of being with Aunt Sarah for years with Dr. Litchfield." He hunched his shoulders. "Can we please go back to Aunt Sarah?"

"The sooner you start this buggy, the sooner I can find out whether Aunt Sarah will have us back."

"Hooray!" Benjamin flipped the reins off of the brake pole and jiggled them against the horse's rump. "Let's go, boy. We have important business to tend to."

Benjamin drove the buggy into the barn and helped Faith down. She took his arm, and they walked toward the house. When they crossed the porch, Leah met them at the door. "Come in. I'm glad you could make it." They greeted each other, and as they entered, she looked at Benjamin. "Where's Paddy?"

Benjamin grinned. "He's in our barn. I didn't think he was invited."

"Young man." Leah wagged a finger as though admonishing him. "Paddy's always welcome...in any house of mine." The twinkle in her eyes belied any notion of scolding.

Faith noted the hesitation and wondered what it meant. Had Leah and Phillip talked to Sarah about the house? "Thank you for the invitation, Leah." She looked around. "Where is everybody?"

"Phillip's on the back porch, Amy's trying to put Bren to sleep, and Sarah's in her workroom." Leah waved to the studio door.

Benjamin reached it first and knocked.

"Come in."

He opened the door and hurried in, with Faith and Leah right behind him.

Sarah hadn't heard their arrival, but at the knock on the door, she rose from her desk chair. Benjamin came charging in and grabbed her in a strong embrace. "Aunt Sarah, I'm so glad you're home."

"Me, too, Benjamin. Me, too." She blinked her eyes several times as she let go of him. "I think you've grown a couple of inches since I last saw you." Benjamin was as tall as his mother and obviously still growing.

"Yes, ma'am. Wait 'til you see Paddy. He's bigger, too."

"I'll bet he is." Her gaze slid past him and settled on Faith.

"Benjamin," Leah said, "come taste my fresh chocolate chip cookies."

He looked confused. Sarah glanced at him and touched his shoulder. "You and I will talk later, all right? Right now, I need to talk with your mama."

His expression cleared. "Yes, ma'am." He turned toward Leah. "Chocolate chip's my all-time favorite cookie."

"I remember," Leah said. "I made extra, just for you." She put her arm through Benjamin's and chattered on as they left the room together.

Faith reached back and hooked the lock on the door.

Sarah raised an eyebrow, and Faith blushed. "So we can speak privately," she said. Sarah stood there aching all over for Faith's touch. But she still didn't know Faith's thoughts. If Joel Litchfield had turned her mind, Sarah might be better off if she had been killed.

"Sarah, I'm terribly sorry I've hurt you."

Sarah spun around and faced away from Faith. "And a few words are supposed to take care of everything?" Sarah admonished herself inwardly: You know you'll forgive her anything, and here you go acting like you're all tough and mean. Maybe you can be that way with other people, but you can't with Faith. At least not for long.

"I know I deserve it," Faith said, "but please...don't...don't turn your back on me."

Sarah clamped her teeth together and slowly turned around.

Faith licked her lips, and Sarah nearly lost the thread of control that enabled her to stand her ground. "I've been such a fool," Faith said. "After all the terror and confusion I felt, Joel's charm and attention seemed attractive to me. I finally realized I could never care for him the way he wanted me to. Just before I saw you in town, I told him I've always loved you, and as soon as the school year's over, we would be getting back together." When Sarah didn't move, Faith's voice faltered. "That's if you still want me."

Sweep her off her feet. Rusty's advice rang once more in Sarah's head. Her two strides closed the distance between them. She flung her arms around Faith and kissed her. Her heart lifted into the clouds when Faith returned the kiss. When the kiss ended, Sarah leaned back and gazed into Faith's eyes. Tears were running down Faith's cheeks. "I've missed you so much," Sarah said in a raspy voice. She dipped her head for another kiss and groaned inside when Faith's fingers worked loose the top buttons of her shirt.

"Damn buttons," Faith murmured when the kiss ended.

Sarah softly hooted. "You're the one who said I should get a shirt with buttons on it."

"So how often do you do what I tell you?"

"Always, sweetheart."

Faith snorted.

Sarah stepped back and pulled the shirt and undershirt over her head, delighted to hear Faith gasp. Then she saw what caused the gasp. A huge bruise, as wide as her fist, spread from just below her neck to the bottom of her breasts.

Faith touched it gingerly. "That must hurt."

"Not enough to slow me down. But I suspect I can use some help with my boots." She sat on the bench at her writing desk, and Faith pulled off the boots and stockings.

"Your leg's swollen a bit." Faith touched the weak spot on Sarah's shinbone.

"Yes. Seems like I had a pressing reason to stomp up Main Street today, and I was determined not to limp."

"I thought you looked elegant." Faith leaned down and kissed the spot. As she straightened up, Sarah gave her hair a short tug, bringing a grin from Faith.

She unlaced her own shoes and kicked them off then pulled off her stockings and flung them toward her shoes.

Sarah stood back up and undid the buttons on Faith's dress. Faith loosened Sarah's belt and unbuttoned her trousers. Then they switched. Sarah slipped off her trousers and underpants while Faith divested herself of her dress and underclothes.

Sarah's whole being shook as they came together, body to body, skin to skin, both moaning.

"Leah expects us for supper," Faith managed to say.

Sarah let go of her embrace long enough to lead Faith to the sofa. "Don't worry," she murmured and kissed the side of Faith's forehead. "She'll know we're having supper in here."

Chapter Fourteen

Sarah lay on her back with Faith in her arms, savoring the joy and satisfaction of their joining. Faith's head lay between her breasts, and warm breath tickled her skin. Just enough fading daylight came through the windows for her to see Faith's curls spread across her chest.

"Your heart is thumping like a scared rabbit," Faith murmured.

"Shows what you do to me," Sarah said with a chuckle. During their lovemaking, they had wound up on the rug before deciding that the sofa was a better choice. "I'm surprised I lived through it." She felt Faith jerk and heard her gasp. Uh-oh, bad choice of words.

Faith sobbed, and Sarah stroked her hair. "Don't cry, sweetheart."

"I almost lost you." Faith lifted her head and gazed into Sarah's eyes. "I thought you were dead. I couldn't believe it. I had so much to say to you. Suddenly, I thought I'd never get the chance to talk to you ever again."

"I'm alive. I'm here. Tell me what you wanted to say."

Faith rested her chin on the bruise between Sarah's breasts. It hurt, but Sarah gritted her teeth in an effort not to distress Faith any further.

"I wanted to tell you that I had broken away from Joel. How I was such a fool to think he could ever take your place." Faith sniffled and Sarah wiped her cheeks with one hand. Faith turned her head and kissed Sarah's palm. "I love when you clear my tears away. Your touch always makes me feel better."

"Good. Please don't cry anymore."

Faith smiled and sniffled once more. "All right." She lay her head again on Sarah's chest and snuggled against her. For several moments neither of them spoke. Then Faith said, "It's so good to be home."

"Uh, sweetheart, I'm the one who's been away."

"I mean here, in your arms. That's home to me."

Sarah tightened her embrace, and for a moment, her throat closed and she couldn't speak. Then she said, "Faith, we need to talk. We know our bodies are compatible, but we have to find out whether our minds are flowing in the same channel." She held her breath, waiting for Faith's answer.

Faith slid her hand up Sarah's ribs and cupped her breast. "Can we please talk later? Right now my mind's preoccupied." She turned her head, licked Sarah's nipple, and kissed it.

Sarah's breath burst out of her. "Mm-mm-mm." She laid her hand alongside Faith's cheek and pressed her head even closer. "Not giving up the hunt yet?"

She heard a deep chuckle. "Not when the prey is so delectable." Faith's other hand moved lower and joined in the chase.

Sarah sucked in a gulp of air and spoke as she released it. "Talking can wait."

Afterward, they lay panting, and Sarah was close to exhaustion. But it was a satisfied exhaustion. Her body felt alive in ways it hadn't been for the seven months she and Faith had been separated. Gradually, their breathing calmed.

Faith began to shake. At first, Sarah thought she was crying again, but when Faith raised her head, she was chuckling. "Your stomach's rumbling. And to tell you the truth, I'm hungry, too."

"Stay here. I'll get us something to eat."

Faith lifted up and rolled against the back of the sofa, and Sarah slid out from under her. In spite of their extended lovemaking, the movement of skin against skin excited Sarah. She hesitated, tempted to stay awhile longer, but her stomach rumbled again. She pulled on her trousers, donned her shirt, and padded barefoot to the door. When she opened it, the lit wall sconce revealed a pleasant surprise. She bent down, picked up one item, and walked back into the room.

"Look what Leah left for us." She set the covered platter on the table in front of the sofa. "Let me light the lamp, and we'll see what it is." Sarah opened the table drawer, pulled out a sulfur match, and struck it.

Faith quickly sat up and scooted toward the table. Just as Sarah turned up the wick and lifted the lamp's chimney, Faith snatched the cover off the platter.

Sarah lit the lamp and replaced the chimney. "Hey, you were supposed to wait." She stood for a moment and filled her eyes with the vision of Faith. The lamplight glistened off her body, highlighting some alluring places and casting shadows in others.

"When have you ever seen me wait for food when I didn't have to?" Faith eyed the sliced ham, potato salad, and coleslaw that filled the platter. Two knives and forks lay beside them.

"Oh, my impetuous love," Sarah said in a teasing voice, "don't you know the value of anticipation?"

"I've had loads of satisfied anticipation tonight. You wore me out. Now I need sustenance. But first..." Faith lifted her hands and looked around.

"Wait." Sarah hurried to the door, stepped past it, and came back with a bowl of water and a towel. "Leah left us some water. She knows you always insist on washing your hands before you eat." Sarah sat down on the sofa.

Faith looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "You're going to stay dressed while I sit here naked? Not fair."

Sarah bolted up, shucked her clothes, and tossed them. She sat down as close to Faith as she could get. "Umm, you're right, this is a lot better."

She and Faith washed and dried their hands and pushed the bowl of water aside. Faith wriggled her hip against Sarah's. "I hope you're still a fast eater."

The next morning, Leah turned from the stove and greeted them with a wink when they entered the kitchen. "Just in time for breakfast. Have a seat." Faith said hello to Phillip and Amy and gave Benjamin a quick kiss. She poured coffee for herself and Sarah and sat across the table from Benjamin.

"Good morning," Sarah called to those at the table. She walked up behind Leah and put her arms around Leah's waist. She gave her a quick hug and kissed her offered cheek. "Thanks for the food and water last night. It was well appreciated."

"You're welcome, honey. Now sit down and eat and visit with us for a while before Faith and Benjamin have to go home." Leah grasped the frying pan's handle with a hot pad and used a flapjack turner to flip the four pancakes.

Sarah frowned, then her thoughts cleared. "Not home. You mean back to the teacher's house."

"Right. My mistake." Leah handed her the syrup. "Grab the crock of butter, and we can eat." She placed the pancakes on a platter loaded with the ones cooked earlier and set the platter on the table. She and Sarah sat and Phillip said grace. Afterward, the platter was passed, and they all began eating.

"Sarah," Faith said, "why did the sheriff arrest Joel?"

"He was the one behind the train robberies."

Faith gasped and Leah said, "He put that gash on Sarah's forehead."

"He hurt you? How? What happened?"

Sarah explained everything.

Faith looked incredulous. "I knew he had a touch of arrogance, but he never seemed criminal."

Sarah stroked her arm. "Litchfield showed you his better side."

"And to think, I assumed he was being considerate by not pushing his advances on me. All the while, he was visiting Calleton." Faith pushed her lips together and blushed. "I was so stupid. What if I'd let him persuade me to marry him?"

Sarah's lip curled. "Marry that two-timing bastard? I'd never have let that happen in a million years."

"And," Leah said, "neither would I."

"Leah," Faith said, "I'll be forever grateful for your help gathering evidence. And for that talk we had while Sarah was gone. I think I began to look at Joel a little more clearly after that. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I hoped your good sense would win out."

Phillip waved a hand over the table. "Now let's have the good sense to finish this delicious meal."

"I second that motion," Sarah said, and they turned their attention once more to eating.

Near the end of the meal, young Bren fussed from his cradle in the corner of the room. "Sit still, Leah. I'll get him," Faith said. She checked the baby's diaper and found it dry. She wrapped him in his blanket, picked him up, and returned to her seat at the table. "Hi there, big boy." Bren's fair hair, cornflower-blue eyes, and plump pink cheeks gave him a cherubic look.

"Hey." Sarah leaned over from her seat next to Faith and tapped Bren's chest. He grabbed her finger, brought it to his mouth, and sucked on it. She pulled her finger away, and he began fussing. "Uh-oh," Sarah said with a laugh, "I think he wants his mama."

Leah poured some sugar into a cloth napkin and rolled the material into a finger-shaped protrusion. She reached into her pocket, pulled out a piece of string, and tied the napkin just below the bulge. She handed it to Faith. "Here. That should keep him happy until breakfast is over."

Sure enough, Bren quieted as soon as Faith put the sugar teat in his mouth. He sucked away in apparent satisfaction.

Sarah murmured into Faith's ear. "I think I could use one of those." Faith turned several different shades of red, Leah covered her mouth, and Phillip cleared his throat. Oh my, Sarah thought, I guess my words weren't as quiet as I meant them to be. She glanced quickly toward Benjamin and Amy, but they were busy talking and apparently oblivious to the adult humor.

Faith pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. "I know, I know, redhead," Sarah said, "I'll get mine later." Leah and Phillip laughed, and this time Sarah turned red.

Around dinnertime, Sarah and Faith took a buggy ride along the path behind the house that led into the woods. Sarah stopped the buggy in a sunny glen. Faith picked up a blanket, and Sarah helped her down from the buggy. Faith spread the blanket on the ground while Sarah retrieved a basket that held a couple of sandwiches and flasks of water.

Sarah removed her hat and laid it beside her. She and Faith sat next to each other on the blanket and kissed. When they separated, Sarah pushed softly against Faith to move her away and said, "Talking time."

Faith nodded. "I know."

Neither woman spoke.

Faith gazed directly into Sarah's eyes. "Me first, I guess, though I'm not sure where to start. I told you I had refused to continue seeing Joel."

"The idea that you were seeing him at all tears me up." Sarah's teeth ground together, and she could feel that her expression had hardened. "When I left here, I knew he was hanging around you, but I never expected you to walk right into his arms."

"Sarah!" Faith punched her shoulder. "I didn't walk into his arms. He hugged me a few times, yes, but I never initiated that contact." Faith hesitated. She reached over and rubbed the spot on Sarah's arm that she had struck. "Bad reaction," she said. "I'm sorry."

"That's the second time you've hit me. Or the third, if you want to count the time you knocked me on my ass in the mud."

"That was just a push, and you deserved it. Or at least I thought you did." Faith touched Sarah's forearm. "But I've never meant to hurt you, ever. It's just...sometimes I have trouble controlling my temper."

Sarah looked down at Faith's hand lying on her arm. "I know that, and you've never hurt me physically." She looked up and put her free hand over her heart. "You've hurt me here. This whole situation has hurt me. When I was away and would think of you and Litchfield being together, I thought I'd go mad."

"We were never together, Sarah. Not in the way you mean. He never so much as touched me in an intimate way, I swear."

"He never kissed you?" Sarah found that hard to believe. If Litchfield never tried to kiss Faith, he was a bigger idiot than Sarah thought he was.

Faith's face reddened. "He kissed me once."

"And how was it?" Emotion roughened Sarah's voice.

Faith's hand closed on Sarah's forearm. "I guess it was all right. I didn't kiss him back. I got through it by pretending it was you."

"Of course."

"Sarah, I've already tried several times to tell you that my actions were driven by fear for all of us, but mostly for Benjamin. If he'd been hurt by the Klan because of us, I couldn't have borne it. Joel kept trying to persuade me that the only way to keep Benjamin—all of us—safe was to leave you and marry him. All that fright warped my thinking, and for a while, what he said made sense. I've begged you to understand. Can you forgive me?"

Sarah reached for a flask of water. She removed the stopper, took a long drink, and replaced the stopper. "What changed your mind? What made you decide you weren't going to see him anymore?"

"Yesterday morning, when I knew you were coming home, everything became clear. I realized I'd never leave you, no matter what happened. Sometimes life smacks you in the jaw and knocks you down, and we can't avoid that. But I understood that, if life knocked me down, I wanted you beside me to help me up, not Joel Litchfield. I love you, Sarah. I always have, and I always will. And I promise—on Benjamin's life—that I'll never turn away from you again."

Sarah laid the flask down and opened her arms. Faith threw herself into the embrace so hard that she almost knocked Sarah over. But Sarah recovered and said, "I love you, too, sweetheart. I don't ever want to lose you. I don't even want to come close to losing you." She pulled Faith into a sweet kiss.

After several kisses, Faith moved away a bit. "This has been all about me. But what about you? What were you up to while you were gone? Who's the woman who made the vest for you?"

Sarah grinned in remembrance and Faith said, "If your eyes don't stop sparkling about her, I might smack you again."

"No reason to. Her name's Rusty. She and her brother let me stay with them when I was snowed-in in Wyoming. Rusty took a shine to me and kept flirting, but I told her I was spoken for."

"And that was the end of it?"

"Not quite. One day, she surprised me with a kiss, but like you, I pretended the kiss was from you. That delusion lasted only a couple of seconds, then the ache for you shook me out of it. I pushed her away and told her again that I was committed. After that, she stopped flirting with me and we became friends. She made me the vest as a memento of my time with them."

"Thank God," Faith said. "I'll always be grateful to her for that."

"Me, too. I need to write her and tell her about the vest saving my life."

Faith cocked her head. "Are we all right, now?"

"Not until school's out. But then we will definitely be all right."

Faith made a face. "Did you find any likely spots for us to settle?"

"A few," Sarah said. "There are some beautiful areas in this land of ours. Hey, wait, we got a letter from Velia." Sarah retrieved the letter from her pants pocket and handed it to Faith who read it at once.

"I'm so happy they've found a place to live."

"Me, too," Sarah said. "Maybe we could check it out for us."

Faith's voice sharpened. "I wish we could stay here. I really like this area. I hate to think we're being pushed out of it by some stupid rule proposed by a vindictive, hateful man."

Sarah embraced her again. "I like it, too, but some things aren't in our control, redhead, no matter how much temper you spend on them." She released Faith with one arm and unbuttoned the top of her dress.

Faith grabbed the arm. "No, no, no," she said, adopting her prim schoolteacher voice. "First, we eat."

"That's beginning to be a mantra for you," Sarah said, feigning irritation.

They both laughed when Sarah's stomach was the one that rumbled.

Later that evening, after enjoying supper with Leah's family, Sarah steered the buggy toward the schoolteacher house. Benjamin rode Redfire so Sarah would have a way home.

"I hate to have to take you back to the teacher's house," Sarah said.

"I'm not too happy about it either. Maybe we can sneak some time together during this last month."

"I hope so." Sarah drew her hand across the back of her neck. "Benjamin didn't want to go back at all."

"Yes, I caught part of that discussion you and he had. I'm glad you convinced him he wasn't responsible for your getting shot. I heard him say he wanted to stay and protect you. How did you persuade him to come back with me?"

The buggy hit a rut in the road and jolted its occupants. Sarah switched one rein to the other hand, flung her arm around Faith, and kept it there. She eyed the swinging lanterns attached to each side of the buggy until they slowed to their normal rhythm.

"He wasn't hard to convince. He was torn about staying with each of us. He thinks we both need protection. I told him he had to be with you because I couldn't be. I have Phillip and Leah looking out for me, but you only have him."

"He's so thoughtful."

"Takes after his mama. He's a fine young man. You can be proud of your son."

Faith tucked her hand into Sarah's. "We can both be proud of our son."

Sarah thought her heart might soar out of her chest.

That overwhelmingly good feeling quickly deserted her. As she drove the buggy to the hitching post outside of the teacher's house, a slim man stepped from the shadows into the circle of the buggy's lantern. Shamus McDuff, treasurer of the town council, tipped his hat to them. Obviously ill at ease, he cleared his throat. "Mrs. Pruitt, Miss Coulter. I've been assigned to make sure that no one enters the teacher's house except Mrs. Pruitt and her son, Benjamin." As he spoke, Benjamin rode up on Redfire.

"Hello, Mr. McDuff." Benjamin dismounted and handed the reins to Sarah, who had gotten out of the buggy and helped Faith step down from it. "Can I do anything for you?"

"No, thank you, Benjamin. I'm just here to give a message to your mother."

Faith walked to Benjamin's side. "Please put the buggy away. I'll be finished here in a minute. Say good night to Aunt Sarah."

Benjamin gave Sarah a hug. "Good night, Aunt Sarah. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow." He handed one lantern to Faith and led the horse and buggy away into the barn.

"Mr. McDuff," Sarah said in a demanding tone, "do you expect to be here every evening, keeping track of Mrs. Pruitt's visitors?"

McDuff removed his hat and wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his suit jacket. "I'm afraid so, ma'am. A council member will be showing up here every day, including weekends." Sarah flexed her hands, and McDuff replaced his hat and moved a step back from her. He turned toward Faith. "No offense meant, ma'am. I'm just following orders."

"No offense taken, Mr. McDuff." Faith put her hand on Sarah's arm. "Well, Sarah, we'll have to say good night out here, I suppose."

Sarah covered Faith's hand with her own. "Mr. McDuff, I'd be pleased if you would turn your back and give us a moment of privacy." McDuff jammed his hands in his jacket pockets and turned away without a word.

Sarah dropped Redfire's reins on the ground. She drew Faith close and they kissed. "Good night, redhead. I love you," she whispered.

Faith's arms were around Sarah's neck. She pulled Sarah down and kissed her again. "Good night, sweetheart. I love you, too. Stop by tomorrow after school?"

"I'll be here."

Sarah visited each day after school and spent an hour sitting with Faith at one of the schoolyard picnic tables after all the children had gone and before a council member arrived. Two weeks later, on a Wednesday, Sarah had some news. "Sheriff Schmidt wants us to be sure to attend the Town Hall meeting tonight. He said he thinks we'll be interested in what he has to say." She looked around before stroking the back of Faith's hand. The smile it elicited was worth any disapproval Sarah might receive.

"Do you have any idea what it might be?"

"Not the slightest, but if Schmidt wants us there, I'll be there."

"Me, too, of course. We can't come together, though, and that...that..." Faith's breathing increased and her face reddened.

Sarah laid her hand overtop Faith's. "Calm down, redhead. We only have a couple more weeks until school's out, and we can be together forever after that."

It took a few moments, but Faith's breathing evened and she spoke more quietly. "You're right. I guess I can keep my composure until then."

"That's my girl."

Benjamin came running up with Paddy chasing after him. "Hi, Aunt Sarah. Mama, will dinner be ready soon?"

"In about half an hour," Faith said. She and Sarah stood.

Sarah stepped away from the table and leaned to pet Paddy who was jumping on her. "Hey, boy, how are you?" She looked up at Benjamin. "Has he been behaving himself since I last saw him?"

Benjamin's eyes crinkled. "You just saw him a couple of days ago. But look." Benjamin snapped his fingers, and Paddy ran to him. "Sit," he said. Paddy sat immediately. Benjamin reached out his hand. "Shake." Paddy lifted a paw, and Benjamin shook it.

Sarah walked over next to him and reached out her hand to Paddy. "Shake," she said, and Paddy gave her his paw to shake. Sarah laughed delightedly. "Wonderful!" She batted Benjamin's shoulder. "Good trick, Benjamin."

He beamed. "Thanks. He knows more tricks, but I'm saving up to show them to you when our family's back together again."

Sarah raised a hand to her heart and took a deep breath. "That'll be soon," she said in a shaky voice. "Right now, I have to be leaving. Your Aunt Leah will be setting dinner out soon, too."

"I'll see you later." Benjamin ran off toward the house with Paddy at his heels.

Sarah turned to Faith. "Whew. That got to me."

Faith looked at Sarah with moist eyes. "Me, too."

"Oh," Sarah said, "before I forget. I wrote to Velia and told her we were both overjoyed to hear she and her family were doing so well. I also wrote to Rusty and told her about the vest saving my life. I know she'll be glad to hear that." Sarah could picture Rusty jumping up and down and clapping her hands. The thought brought a small smile.

"I'm sure she will," Faith said. "I know I'm beholden to her for saving the woman I love. I hope I get to meet her someday." She glanced around, stepped next to Sarah, and gave her a quick hug. "I'll see you tonight."

"Okay, sweetheart." Sarah watched her walk away, her dress brushing the grass with the movement of her hips. Every swish increased the ache in Sarah's being. Soon, she told herself. Soon they wouldn't be forced to live apart.

Faith turned and waved to her before entering the house. Sarah waved back, blew her a kiss, and started home alone.

That evening, Sarah dismounted from Redfire, tied him to one of the hitching posts, and looked down the buggy-lined street. The gaslights along the sidewalk gave too dim a light for her to distinguish Faith's buggy, even though Faith had painted a schoolbook on the side panel. Sarah shrugged. Either Faith had already arrived at the Town Meeting or soon would. Sarah went inside, removed her hat, and scanned the room. Sure enough, Faith sat in the third row on the right, wearing her dark green bonnet. No one could mistake the red curls showing below it.

The room was pretty full, with people standing in the back and along the sides of the room. Sarah returned the nods of a few townspeople. She saw Leah waving, and she took a seat next to her and Phillip.

"Hi," Leah said.

Phillip leaned forward and gave her a grin. "Hello, Sarah."

"Hello." Sarah smiled at them. "Thanks for saving me a seat. Quite a crowd. I guess Sheriff Schmidt's posters asking everyone to attend worked."

"I think you're right," Phillip said. "Looks like just about everyone in town is here."

"I wonder what he has to say."

"I'm sure everyone's wondering that." Leah smirked. "Nothing like a mystery to draw a crowd." She turned to look directly at Sarah. "Did you finish the drawing you were working on when we left to do some shopping?"

"I did. That's why I'm later than I expected to be. I lost track of the time." Just as Sarah answered, the gavel rapped and the buzz of conversation quieted down.

Secretary James Melvin, temporarily acting as president of the council, spoke from one of the tables in the front of the room where the council members sat. "Good evening. Let's get the usual business taken care of, then Sheriff Schmidt has asked to speak." They proceeded to a reading of the last meeting's minutes and a treasurer's report. "Any old business?" Melvin asked. "Yes, sir?"

Henri Leveque, a farmer, had put up his hand, and now he stood. "What's being done about the Ku Klux Klan? I thought they were supposed to be a good group, but some of the things they've done without cause are frightening my family. My farm sits away from town, and I'm worried about them taking a notion to do us harm."

Melvin lifted his hand as though to stop Leveque. "Sheriff Schmidt will be speaking on this in just a minute, Henri." Leveque sat down. "Anything else?" Melvin said. No hands went up, so he rapped the gavel again. "On to new business. Your turn, Sheriff."

Sheriff Schmidt rose from his seat in the front row and laid his hat on the vacated chair. He walked to the side of the meeting table and turned to face the assembled people. "I have a few things I'd like to touch on, so please bear with me." He reached into a pocket of his leather vest and withdrew some notes.

"First, to address Mr. Leveque's question. Most of you know by now that Morton Blanton was head of the local Ku Klux Klan. He was killed after shooting Miss Coulter." Schmidt waited a moment for the buzzing this remark caused to die down. "Afterward, I made a point of visiting each man I thought might have been a part of Blanton's group. I told them Congress just passed a law that affected anyone who destroyed property, and if they committed any more crimes in my jurisdiction, I would hit them with the full punishment allowed. I got their word of honor that their Klan days were over." This caused another small buzz.

"But before that, we had another problem. A bunch, apparently Klansmen, robbed the train three different times on its way here. My deputies and I investigated, but we couldn't come up with any clues. They were in the clear until they made the mistake of robbing the train Miss Sarah Coulter was on. She noticed a couple of things that led her to believe Doc Litchfield was involved. When she told me all the suspicions she had, together with some evidence that had been collected, I arrested the doc. He's in the county prison, awaiting trial."

Sarah looked toward Leah. "Where's he going with this?" she whispered, not expecting an answer.

Schmidt continued. "When I spoke to the men Blanton had been leading, they swore up and down to a man that they hadn't robbed any trains, and I tend to believe them. If they're telling the truth, that other bunch must still be around. Let's hope that catching the doc will put a stop to the robberies."

"Good job, Sheriff!" someone called from the crowd, and applause followed.

"Thank you." Schmidt shifted his bulky body and lifted a hand in recognition of the praise. "But I can't take all the credit. Miss Coulter deserves it a lot more than I do. Not only for pointing out Litchfield was the train robber, but also for giving me a lead on some of the people in the Klan. You all saw Ed Putnam limping around awhile ago. Well, the Klan attacked Miss Coulter's hired man, and she saved him by shooting Ed Putnam in the leg. And when the Klan paraded through our town, and the leader kicked Miss Coulter, she noticed he wore the tooled boots that Morton Blanton owned."

Schmidt pulled a red bandanna from his pocket, wiped his face, and returned the bandanna to his pocket. "I didn't catch any of the Klan in their acts of violence. But now that I knew some of them, I could go after them and talk them out of any further damage. You all owe Miss Coulter a vote of thanks for that."

"Good job, Miss Coulter," the same voice called, and a smattering of applause followed this second declaration. Schmidt pointed at Sarah and waved for her to stand. Leah poked her in the side and made the same gesture.

Red-faced, Sarah stood and mumbled, "Thank you." She quickly sat back down amid a few nods and smiles.

"And that," Schmidt said, "brings me to my next piece of business." He hesitated for a moment, and everyone waited for him to continue. "Miss Coulter has helped this community in ways no one else has. And her friend, our schoolteacher, Mrs. Pruitt, has worked so hard to teach our children that they've all improved their grades. You parents out there, isn't that true?" Nods and murmurs of "yes" spread through the group.

"Good job, Mrs. Pruitt!" the same voice uttered, and the audience laughed and clapped. Schmidt gestured to Faith, and she stood, made a small bow, and sat back down. Sarah saw her hand move to her cheek as though to wipe away a tear.

"Now," Schmidt said, "here's the gist of what I'm aiming at. We have a rule on the town council's books that, in my opinion, causes unnecessary hardship on these two people who have contributed so much to our town. One says that the schoolteacher must live in the schoolteacher's house and no one except his or her immediate family can live there with her. I think that's an unreasonable rule to expect a schoolteacher to follow. Besides, it seems to me that the town can save money if the schoolteacher lives in a house of her own choosing instead of one our taxes are paying for. Wouldn't you say so?"

Nods and a chorus of yesses swept through the room.

"I thought so," Schmidt said. "I think Morton Blanton pushed this rule through to force Mrs. Pruitt to move from her chosen home, thereby hurting Miss Coulter because he blamed her for Hiram's death. And I'd also like to point out that the part of a teacher's contract about"—Schmidt read from his notes—'"not consorting with individuals who have been engaged in unlawful activities or any that might border on being unlawful, such as shooting a neighbor, harboring a fugitive, and causing grievous harm' has been misinterpreted to keep Miss Coulter and Mrs. Pruitt from even visiting each other. The fact is, that part of the contract doesn't apply to Miss Coulter at all. As sheriff, I can assure you she wasn't guilty of any of those activities, except in defense of another human being." He stopped for a moment.

"I personally have found her to be a law-abiding citizen and a fine woman." Schmidt's gaze slowly surveyed the room. "In my opinion, we haven't the right to tell anyone where they should live, who they should live with, or for that matter, judge how they should dress. I know some of you feel that Miss Coulter shouldn't dress in men's clothing, but she's not breaking any laws, either of man or of God, by dressing as she pleases. I think, as long as Miss Coulter and Mrs. Pruitt don't break any of the town's laws and can't be proven to have hurt anyone, we should leave them alone to live their lives as they see fit. We're going to lose two outstanding citizens if the rule about the schoolteacher's house isn't changed, so let's change it." He turned and faced the council members. "Right now."

"I move that the rule be stricken," Shamus McDuff said.

"I second the motion," another council member said.

Melvin said. "All in favor say 'aye.'" The ayes sounded. "All against say 'nay.'" A scattering of nays were heard, but not enough to outdo the ayes. Melvin pounded the gavel. "The ayes have it. The rule is stricken."

Schmidt looked back at the crowd. "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. You did a good thing here tonight."

"I move the meeting be adjourned," McDuff said. His motion was quickly seconded and passed, and the crowd slowly dispersed, talking animatedly as they left. Quite a few people gave Sarah a smile or tipped their hats as they left. A few turned their gazes away, but that didn't surprise her.

Leah gave Sarah a one-armed hug. "I'm so happy for you both. The folks surprised me. I didn't expect them to be so broad-minded."

"They were fair-minded," Sarah said. "The sheriff was very persuasive." She stood as Faith reached her, and they grabbed each other's hands. Faith was battling tears, and Sarah felt like she could drown in the green depths of Faith's eyes.

"The sheriff was wonderful," Faith said. "The people were wonderful. Now we don't have to move."

Sarah hadn't thought that far ahead. Her mind was on more current results. "Now I can go to your house tonight." She let go of one of Faith's hands and tugged the other. "Come on, let's go thank the sheriff." Before moving away, she turned her gaze toward Leah and Phillip. "I'll see you tomorrow, all right?"

Leah's eyes were glistening, too. She reached for Sarah's neck, pulled her head down, and kissed her cheek. "You go right ahead, darlin'. I don't care if I don't see you for a week."

Phillip reached past Leah and clapped Sarah on the shoulder. "Looks like we'll have a deed transfer to take care of. I couldn't be happier, Sarah." He looked toward Faith. "I'm happy for you, too, Faith."

"Thank you, Phillip, Leah. You keep showing me why Sarah loves you both so much."

"Come on." Sarah gave Faith's hand another tug. "I want to catch Schmidt before he leaves."

They reached the front of the room just as a group who had surrounded Schmidt had dispersed. Sarah held out her hand and Schmidt shook it. "Thanks, Sheriff. We owe you a debt of gratitude."

"I only did what I thought was right, Miss Sarah. Morton Blanton made this town turn against you, and I knew most folks wouldn't have if given the right information. We have a pretty good bunch of people in this town."

Faith shook his hand, too. "You did a wonderful job with your talk. Thank you."

"Yes," Sarah said in a teasing tone, "I've hardly heard ten words from you before. I didn't know you had it in you."

Schmidt leaned closer and dropped his voice. "I got outstanding grades in Rhetoric class at school. First time I've had a chance to use all I learned." The three of them chuckled together.

"We'll never forget this, Sheriff," Sarah said. She looked at Faith, and a silent signal passed between them. "Right now, we want to go home. Together."

"You do that." He shook hands with them once more.

"Thanks again," Faith said, and they left.

Faith moved through the door ahead of Sarah. She hung her bonnet and coat on the rack, walked to the kitchen table, and turned up the wick on the oil lamp Benjamin had left burning for her return.

"Do you want some tea?" she asked Sarah and gestured for her to sit down. "I'm parched."

"Sounds good." Sarah hung her hat and jacket next to the bonnet. She waited for Faith to wash her hands at the sink pump then took her turn. While Faith stirred the coals in the stove and filled the kettle, Sarah set out the cups, saucers, and spoons. Faith placed the kettle on the stove and collected the sugar bowl.

"Do you want anything to eat?" she asked.

"Not yet," Sarah said with a mischievous grin.

Faith poked her in the arm. "Sit down and behave yourself. Time for play later."

They sat cattycorner to each other at the small table. "Where's Paddy?" Sarah asked.

"He sleeps in Benjamin's room. I heard a short bark when I came in, but he must have recognized us and quieted down."

Sarah reached for Faith's hand and brought it to her lips. "I have to take care of the horses," she said and gave Faith's hand a squeeze.

"Go ahead. I'll fix your tea. By the time the kettle boils and the tea gets fixed, you'll be finished and can relax."

"All right, then." Sarah squeezed Faith's hand once more, stood, and left.

Ten minutes later, she was back. Faith cocked her head. "You must have set some kind of record."

"Maybe so." Sarah grinned and washed her hands once again. She tugged one of Faith's curls as she passed her on the way to sit down. "I had good reason to hurry."

They both quickly and silently drank their tea.

Afterward, Faith lifted Sarah's hand and slowly outlined it with her index finger. "I can hardly believe everything that's happened. First, it was all bad, and now it's all good." She placed Sarah's hand back on the table and looked down. "I know I caused you a lot of grief and anger. I'll always feel guilty about that."

Sarah put two fingers under Faith's chin and lifted it up. "Look at me," she said softly. When Faith's gaze met hers, Sarah lowered her hand and said, "Part of that was my own fault. It took me awhile to grasp that Benjamin's still a boy, and as his mother, you had a fierce need to protect him. You tried to tell me that, but instead of understanding, I withdrew inside myself and stomped off."

"And I got mixed up with Joel Litchfield." She rubbed Sarah's forearm and gazed into her eyes, remorse showing on her face. "I'm sorry. It took me awhile to grasp that my misplaced fondness for him couldn't come anywhere near my love for you." She hesitated. "There's something I forgot to tell you. Joel said he overheard some men threaten to kill you if you didn't stay away from me."

"And you believed him? He was probably just trying to keep us apart."

"I realize that now. At the time, all I could think of was getting you out of town."

"Ah, yes. I was puzzled—and distressed—when you looked relieved that I was leaving."

"One more way I hurt you. I truly didn't mean to."

Sarah took a deep breath then changed her mind about what she was going to say. "Let's forget about the past. It's not important anymore. What's important is now and the future." She slowed the hand that continued to rub her arm. Keeping hold of it, she said, "If we ever get sidetracked again, if our thoughts or desires veer off in different directions, let's give ourselves time to cool off and then discuss it. We're a team, a couple, and I want us to stay that way. Forever."

Looking serious, Faith nodded. Then her lips curled into a smile that made Sarah's heart lurch.

"I'm sure, of course," Faith said, "that we'll never ever clash again."

"You are so right, redhead," Sarah said in a joking tone, and they both chuckled. Sarah turned down the lamp, stood, and pulled Faith up into a kiss. When they stopped, breathless, Sarah said, "Right now, I'll settle for our desires not clashing." She loosened her embrace, guided Faith's arm into hers, and led her to the bedroom.

About the Author

A professional editor for many years, Nann Dunne began writing fiction in 1996. She has a number of published novels and short stories, her latest novel being "The Clash Between the Minds," the sequel to "The War Between the Hearts."

She publishes a free ezine on the craft of writing called "Just About Write" (JAW) at http://www.JustAboutWrite.com that includes articles on writing, editing, and promotion, as well as reviews, new releases, poetry, humor, featured authors, and publisher announcements. Because of her work with Just About Write, the Golden Crown Literary Society presented Nann with the coveted 2008 Directors' Award in recognition of her "outstanding contribution to lesbian literature."