"Mandy. I'm here, honey! Mandy! Mandy Nixon!"

Her words rolled, like tumbleweed, wind-driven, across the emptiness, b.u.mping against the clumpy growth and rolling up the cliff faces and into the canyons and crevices.

"I'm here, Mandy! It's Mommy! Mommy's here! Do you hear me? Mandy!"

Only silence came back. She called several times more, turning in all directions, and then waited, but only the soft ruffle of the canyon winds, stirred by the storm remnants, returned to her across the dry earth.

"Mandy."

This time she whispered the name, as though on gentler wings, not more than a shiver in the wind, her call might more readily reach the little girl.

And still, of course, there was no sound.

But the effort had done her good. Now that she had confronted the stillness and heard her voice disappear into it, she was more able to accept its incontrovertible truth: her ordeal was only beginning. What lay ahead might yet be very bad, and she would have to be ready. The fear remained-there was no way she could lose that-but the blind panic had subsided and her heart was now beating more slowly, no longer pounding in her throat. Her thoughts focused more steadily.

"Let's get that fire started," she said abruptly, for the first time wondering where Cal was.

"Right," he said.

And there he was, with an armful of wind-drift pinyon he'd already gathered. He dropped it some thirty feet away from the truck, mounded it into a rough pyramid, and set it ablaze. While he did that, Jamie collected more, enough for a bonfire, enough to make a beacon that would burn at least until first light.

He brought a sleeping bag from the truck's storage box, and a tarp, blankets, a couple of warm shirts and a handful of granola bars.

"We can start tracking her as soon as we get a little light. In about three hours," he said, looking at his watch. "The ground's damp from the rain, so she'll have left good prints. In the meantime, you need to get a little rest and have some dinner."

He handed her a granola bar.

"I know. I know, Cal. We should both get some rest.-"

He'd brought a long-handled shovel from the bed of the truck and she stopped to watch what he was doing. With a few quick moves, he flattened out the base of a low hillock, forming it deftly into a back rest. While she stripped the paper from the granola, he spread the tarp on the ground and laid the sleeping bag over that, its head against the makeshift headboard, and rolled up a blanket to form a pillow, which he tucked snugly in against the angle. Then he held the shirt for her and she slipped her arms into it. She rolled up the sleeves-they were much too long for her-and b.u.t.toned it up warmly.

"She must be so cold," Jamie said. "I'm sure she's not dressed for the night. What's she going to do?"

"She'll find some little s.p.a.ce to hunker down in. That's what animals do, and that's what even a little kid'll do when she's cold. It's instinctive. And it's not like it's winter. She's not in any danger from the cold. She'll pull herself in out of the wind, and she'll go sound asleep."

He sat down on the sleeping bag and held up a hand for her. She took his hand and sat down too, and he put his arm around her. It was wonderful, how snugly they fit into the s.p.a.ce he'd made.

"But she'll be so frightened," she said.

"She'll be okay, honey. She knows you're coming for her."

"Does she, Cal? Does she really? Are you sure?"

Even as she put those helpless questions to him, Jamie knew she was relying on him to have a power-an almost magical power-to make it all be so. And once again, Jamie realized how scared she was. She was in real trouble, a trouble so serious she could no longer be alone with it. Her head had gone all muddled. She would have to lean on someone else. And Cal's head was clear and his arm was around her and he was letting her lean on him.

And in that moment, a connection was made. In that moment, a lifetime of aloneness came to an end and Jamie knew, whatever might happen, this man had entered her life forever and made a difference. She trusted him-and that had never before happened. Her pain and terror were fully exposed before him-and that, too, had never before happened. She was flooded by an emotional force so powerful it was a physical wave throughout her body: he brought safety with him. He'd put himself in the way of serious danger, for her sake, and he'd known how to handle it. What was it Elaine French had said? A cowboy in love was like a knight in shining armor-ready to slay dragons.

She glanced sideways at him.

A cowboy in love . . .

He'd taken his hat off and put it on the ground next to him and he ran his hand through his hair, as a child might, messing it up, making the dark curls fall forward in a tangle over his forehead. The firelight muted the sharp line of his jaw and softened the deepening creases around his mouth; in its glow his face became a fine mix of moving dark shadow and golden places.

He looks different.

The change was subtle, perhaps only an effect of the breathing, warming firelight, but it seemed to her that a dark place in him had been opened and something had been dragged out of him, leaving him exposed and vulnerable. Her heart twisted in her, aching for what must have happened to him. After the turmoil of the last hour, only now did she think of the unreasoning, animal violence of his ferocious attack on Ray. Only now did she wonder what it could have meant.

"Cal, I saw what happened back there."

His hand paused.

"You mean with Ray?"

"Yes."

He took a deep breath, but didn't say anything.

"What was that all about?" she asked.

Still he was silent, frowning into the fire.

"It looked like maybe you were trying to kill him," she said. "But it wasn't that, was it? It wasn't even Ray, was it?"

"At first it was."

"I don't understand."

His answer came slowly. "I don't know how to explain it."

He was silent for a long time. In all the excitement, there hadn't been time for him to think about it, but now he realized that something important had happened back there. He was trying to figure it out, trying to find the words, but it hadn't sorted itself out yet.

"When I saw him there," he said finally, "near the plane, I knew he had to be stopped. I saw he had the phone in his hand, but he was close enough, so it was an easy shot. And then suddenly all I could think was I wanted to get my hands on him. I didn't want to use the gun. I just wanted to get my hands on him. And then he hit me once. I remember that. He hit me once and then it was like everything changed. I was. .h.i.tting him but it stopped being Ray that I was. .h.i.tting. It's like Ray was just an excuse."

He turned toward her, pulled her close in his arms and his thick shirt was warm against her face. He rubbed his cheek against her hair, as though its silkiness was a comfort to him.

"Oh, Jamie," he said. "It didn't have anything to do with Ray. You're right about that. It's something else, has nothing to do with you and Ray-except it's all about the bad things that happen to people. Who knows how long I've been fighting that battle. At least a year. Maybe it started even before that. But this whole last year, ever since the accident, ever since I wrecked my knee, it's been a G.o.dd.a.m.ned h.e.l.l. Like my life was already over, only I was still walking around, fooling the whole world. I mean, dammit, here I am, I'm strong and except for the G.o.dd.a.m.ned knee I'm healthy and I know there's lots of folks would think that's a real good deal. But Jesus! This isn't the way it's supposed to be!"

He was holding her tightly, his hand against her head, pressing her to his chest, his face against her hair. She couldn't see that his eyes were closed in pain, but she could feel that he was holding on to her for comfort. She stayed quiet and let him cling to her.

Like we're both hanging on for dear life.

"And then," he spoke softly almost to himself alone, "there was something about the dark, and the fires all around that d.a.m.ned plane, and the feeling of Ray just crumpling up as I hit him, and he seemed to change into all the G.o.dd.a.m.ned devils I've been fighting all these months, like they'd all gotten stuffed into one evil person and this was my chance to wipe them all out. And I just couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop. It felt so good!"

He paused and then took a long, slow, deep breath. "It still feels so good! Like I just got split open and cleaned out. Like finally it's all over. It's been hurting like h.e.l.l for so long, but now I'm okay." He kissed the top of her head. "Now I'm really okay."

"You mean Ray Nixon was finally good for something? In his whole rotten life, he finally was useful to someone?" She couldn't help chuckling.

Cal laughed, too. "Yeah. He made a real good punching bag. Pity you couldn't get in a few licks yourself. Would have done you good."

"Well, then I owe you for doing it for me. And you sure were doing it better than anything I could have done. It was all I could manage to hold that gun on them while you were doing it. I can tell you, I was plenty scared I was going to have to use it and you know I didn't have a clue-" She stopped abruptly and looked up at him. "You knew that, didn't you?"

"I sure did, honey." He got a kick out of remembering the sight of her with that Smith and Wesson about as big as she was. "But you looked so fierce, I knew there wasn't anyone going to try you out."

"Well, I didn't feel fierce. All I could think was that we had to get Mandy back." It brought her up short to speak Mandy's name aloud, and she could feel the quiver in her chest. She waited until it quieted. "And I sure don't feel fierce now. Now I just feel scared. I forget it for a few minutes, like when we're talking, and then I think about her, and I get scared all over again, like I've got dragons all around me."

"There isn't anyone, I guess, doesn't have a team of dragons always coming at them."

"Well, then, thank G.o.d for the dragon-slayers." She pressed more closely against his chest.

"Well, they're not in shining armor, not anymore. But fair damsels can still get some help even in these modern times." He stroked her hair tenderly and kissed her cheek. "You've helped me, Jamie, maybe even in ways we don't really understand yet." He kissed her again, and then smiled. "So now, let's just line up those dragons of yours and start knocking them off, one after the other."

"Well, next to the big one, the one that's got Mandy, the others don't seem quite so fierce as they did a few days ago. Before you came along." In the dark, she was blushing. Those last words were a huge admission, and she was glad her face could not be seen.

"As for the other ones," she said, thinking, sorting them out, "well, Ray has been taken care of. Then, there's the people in town who've had it in for me, I don't care about them so much now. I can leave, if I want, as long as I have Mandy with me. I could take her anywhere I want. Salt Lake City. California. There's nothing to keep me in Sharperville. Not even my dad."

Cal took her hand in his and kissed her fingertips.

"He's got his own dragons to slay," she said. "But I can walk away from that one; it's not after me anymore. And there's another one I never admitted to anyone before. I don't want to live so shabby anymore. I want to have a real home, with nice things in it. I want to make enough money to have pretty clothes. I want to do some kind of work where I don't have to wear a hard hat and boots. I want to have pretty hands. I want to wear nail polish and have pretty hands."

Cal laughed out loud. "Sweetheart," he said, "you've been so d.a.m.ned brave for so long. It's about time you had someone doing some of the dirty work for you so you can start tending to those hands of yours and make them just as pretty as you please." He stroked her hair and she pressed against his chest.

G.o.d, how good he feels.

"All we have to do is find Mandy," she said.

"That's right, sweetheart."

"That's the only really bad dragon now. I won't be able to stand it if anything happens to her. That's something I wouldn't be able to survive."

"Don't worry, sweetheart. In just a couple of hours from now we're going to be able to start tracking her. As soon as it's light, we'll pick up the tread from the van and find out where it stopped." He pulled the blanket up around her shoulders. "But until then, I want to see you get some rest. An hour or two would do you a lot of good. You're going to need your strength for tomorrow."

He didn't need to say it more clearly than that; she understood. What lay ahead might be much worse than anything that had come before.

"Okay," she said, and closed her eyes.

And he watched the firelight create moving shadows over her face and he stroked her hair until finally she fell into the nervous sleep of exhaustion and prolonged anxiety. She slept, but he saw that her dreams were troubled and painful.

And then he let himself doze, too, for an hour or so, holding her still in her arms.

And so they slept, while the fire burned, and the night's blackness slowly came to its end.

And because they both slept, they didn't see the dark form, big and shadowy, that had been drawn to the light and the warmth of their fire. They didn't see the cougar's tawny coat glistening silver as he materialized out of the shadows, and pa.s.sed around them. They didn't see the black-tufted ears or the golden eyes, reflecting back the fire's light, blinking once, and then again, as it paused for few silent moments to observe them. And they didn't see the wound it carried, the burn of the lightning strike, or hear it scuffing the ground with its dragging foreleg as it padded painfully past them, moving south of them, into the canyon, making a track of its own.

Chapter Twenty-four.

The thin, early song of the birds was just rising in the cool air when Cal kissed her cheek.

"I hate to get you up, sweetheart," he said, "but it's time to get going."

He had been careful to make no move to wake her until the first light of morning paled the eastern sky, but as his lips touched her, she was instantly awake, her blue eyes filled with the terrible dreams that had been with her in sleep.

She was on her feet immediately and in only minutes, Cal had covered the remaining embers of the fire, everything was packed back into the truck, and they were ready to start.

It wasn't difficult to pick up the trail of Ray's big van. The distinctive tread of its outsized tires had marked the damp ground clearly and they quickly found the place-not far from where they had built their fire in the night-where hours earlier Ray and Tina had stopped to walk around. Their shoeprints were clear and sharp in the red soil, and even the b.u.t.ts of their cigarettes were still on the ground, discolored by the rain but otherwise undisturbed.

"Cal! Look!" Jamie called to him to come and see what she had found, and Cal joined Jamie kneeling on the ground. "Look, here. These are Mandy's prints! I've found her prints!"

She was pointing to the flat depressions in the ground, the marks left by a child's short steps leading away from the place where the van had stopped. Cal was at her side in a moment, kneeling down to examine the outlines of the little shoes.

"The prints are so flat," Cal said, "and they don't show hardly any tread at all. Do you know what she'd have been wearing?"

Jamie touched her fingers to the shallow mark. The tangible evidence of Mandy's presence was a rea.s.surance even as it wrenched her heart.

"She's been wearing her tennis shoes all summer." Jamie let her eyes follow the line of steps, leading toward the hills. "She couldn't be dressed very warmly. Maybe just jeans or shorts, and little T-shirt." She stood up, needing to hurry up, needing to follow those steps immediately. She could hardly breathe.

Cal stood up too, his gaze also led southwards by the trail of baby steps.

"Looks like she was headed for the canyon. If she didn't get that far, if she stayed down on the flat, we'll be able to use the truck to follow her."

He turned and headed for the vehicle, but Jamie stopped him with one hand on his arm.

"And if not, Cal? If she didn't stay on the flat? What if she did get up into the canyon?"

"Then we'll just have to leave the truck and track her on foot."

Don't say anything to Jamie yet. One thing at a time. If the kid got into those rocks, it's going to be a lot harder to find her. There wasn't much moon last night-just occasional after the rain-and she'd have become completely disoriented moving in the dark. There are steep drops off those rocks, and deep crevices, plenty big enough for a little girl to fall into. Best not to talk to Jamie about that yet.

He scanned the terrain quickly, and then looked up to the sky, which was crystal clear. All signs of yesterday's storm had vanished. The sun, just starting to show over the far-away hills to the east, had not yet climbed high enough for the unrelenting heat to bake the desert dry, and the air was still fresh with the early morning chill.

They got into the truck and Cal drove slowly, holding the door open with one hand and leaning far out as he drove, keeping an eye on the trail made by the little tennis shoes, moving the truck slowly. On her side, Jamie peered ahead of them, watching intently for any sign.

They were nearing the rise of the cliffs when Jamie spoke suddenly.

"Look! Up ahead, on your side."

Almost hidden at the base of a clump of sage, directly in the path of the little footsteps, something small and bright red was caught in the stiff brush. Cal pulled the truck up to it and swung his long legs out. Jamie was even more quickly out of the truck and was already holding the object cupped in the palm of her hand when Cal reached her.

"It's her tennis shoe, Cal. It's one of her red shoes."

It rested in her hand like a piece of long-hidden treasure, as significant to her as if it were a talisman, rich with meaning and magical power. As though she'd found her own lost little sneaker-watched for these many years-it was like a sign-from another place and another time. But there was no other place or time for Jamie now; the little red shoe was real and palpable evidence that Mandy had pa.s.sed through this place and there was no time to explore mystical connections. Jamie's eyes followed the direction of the little footsteps as they approached the bouldered cliffs ahead and disappeared into the brush and rocky pa.s.ses.