Isabella frowned, then nodded. She still didn't believe the tale she'd just heard, but short of waiting for Stone's return, she had no way oflearning the truth. Until then, she'd just keep Cat O'Conner closeby.

There was more to Stone's actions than he was telling. But then there always was. Meanwhile she had the very real problem of keeping theSpanish captain from discovering the truth--no easy task since he wasthe second-highest-ranking officer at the fort. But she'd alwaysmanaged to outwit any man--except Stone.

Isabella thought of Stone and allowed a sigh of regret to escape herlips. Stone, the one man in all her life that she truly loved, wouldnever belong to her. But for now, she was certain that he didn'tbelong to anyone else, either. And it just might be that, one way oranother, she had something he wanted.

Even if it was a saucy hazel-eyed minx who called herself Cat.

"Why did you collapse tonight, Mona? That was not a part of thereenactment."

"I don't know. I felt very strange. I told you that I was not anactor. While you and your members of our family were learning how toperform on the stage, I was learning to open my mind to the spiritworld."

"Ah, Mona, there are more spirits in the world that we are aware of.

On the island where I come from, there are people who are believed tobe the living dead. " Mona shivered. Ever since he'd come back, since she'd seen him soclearly in a vision, she'd both feared and waited for him to send forher. She'd thought she was prepared, until they met on the green moundof earth in their old village. From that moment she'd become caught upin his spell so completely that he never disappeared from her mindagain.

But recreating the coming of the Sun King was a thing she didn'tunderstand. She pulled on her loose- fitting Indian tunic and turnedto go.

"Wait, why do you flee?""I must. I am needed.""How do you know?""The Great Spirit has called. There is a man who is hurt, and I must heal him."

"What about me?"

"I don't know the answer to that yet, Simicco."

She felt her bones quiver as he placed both hands on her shoulder

blades and held her motionless."Come to me, Mona. Come lie with me.""We cannot mate," she protested."It is forbidden. We both belong to the royal family.""Yes, I know. And I ask you to come to me, not as my wife, but as my honored concubine."

"No," she snapped.

"I will be your equal or I will be nothing."

"So be it," he answered and watched her go.

The pirogue slid through the dark water of the bayou like a shadow.

Night animals sang their song of life undisturbed by the intruders.

Jillico poled the craft without a ripple of water to announce their

presence. Patrick lay against the bow of the boat and wished that he'd

stayed behind.Once he'd recovered from the wound he received escaping from prison,he'd started a search for Captain Hector Lopaz, the man who'd nearlyended his life. Lopaz's superior, the official who'd ordered Patrick'sarrest and confiscated the Savannah Lady, had never expected hisactions to be questioned. But according to sources, they had been.

Afterward, the official had sold his military commission and returned to Spain. Lopaz had been demoted and reassigned, and told to consider himself lucky that he wasn't thrown in his own jail.

Now he was back, and he was charged with arresting the pirate, Stone.

Patrick sighed. The means had finally come for him to even the score.

But he didn't delude himself. He was in a country under foreign ruleand he had little clout.

Refusing to face Lopaz went against everything Patrick knew. The man had been within his reach, and Patrick had turned away, to protectthose he cared about.

Somehow it wasn't the turning away that was keeping his pulse racing,it was the caring and the responsibility it brought. Responsibiity forhis ship and his crew was the kind of duty he understood. Men had shared a common bond that made them stand together. But women? His point of reference here was nonexistant.

Except for that one brief moment when he'd believed Catherine was inhis arms and he'd felt his heart surge with strength.

Catherine, so alive, so positive. She'd never cared where he came from, or why. It didn't matter that his background was as poor as themost worthless of those people sent from English jails to settle thecolony called Georgia. She made him feel good. She'd trusted him to return, and trust was a thing he'd known little of in his life.

Dear God, he hadn't trusted that kind of devotion, hadn't allowed it ofhimself. He'd thought that Catherine's obsession was temporary, thatof a child for a new toy. A girl like Catherine wouldn't want him, notwhen she got over her infatuation and realized what he was.

Yet in the privacy of the night, in his most secret dreams, he'dallowed himself to get caught up in a dream. Because he'd wanted her--so much.

Like tonight, when he'd felt that Catherine was in his arms, he'dallowed himself to believe. But, even in his dream, she couldn'tremain there. Day would break and she'd be gone. But for now he held her, closing his eyes so that he could recapture that energy, thatstrong belief she'd had that they were meant to be together. The nightsky disappeared into darkness and finally he slept.

Once Jillico reached the safety of one of his frequently traveledwaterways, away from the big river, he made the sound of a bird andlistened to hear it repeated along the route.

By sunrise he and Patrick were so deep in the swamp nobody could havefound them. And yet their route had simply paralleled the river, nevercarrying them more than shouting distance from the great body of watercalled the Mississippi. Reaching solid land now, Jillico beached theboat carved from the trunk of a great cypress tree and signaled theirarrival again.

Silently men appeared from the shadows and lifted the protesting Stone,carrying him to the crude shack being used for shelter while theplantation house was being built.

"Is he hurt bad?" one of the slaves asked.

"No, I'm all right," Stone kept protesting, "it's just this ache in myhead."

Jillico ignored him, giving the men instructions to be careful ofStone's head wound.

"I don't think so. He managed to slip out of Isabella's place and makeit to the river. His head is too hard to break. He just cracked it alittle the night of the storm."

The slave examined Stone's head, then lifted his face in question.

"Jillico?"

"The medicine woman, Mona, comes," Jillico answered and turned to greetthe Indian woman already entering the hut.

"Greetings, Mona."

"Why have you sent for me?"

Stone tried to study her. There was something familiar about her dark,expressionless face. She waited in the shadows, showing neitherconcern nor curiosity. Yet Stone couldn't escape the strangeconviction that she'd been expecting them, nor could he get past thefeeling that he'd seen her before, and not long ago.

Finally she stepped forward and touched his head. Then he knew. She was the shadow woman in his dreams, the strange new presence who seemedto stand in Catherine's shadow.

"What do you want?" he tried to ask. But if he did, she didn't answer.

Her examination of his wound was followed by a discussion between herand Jillico. It was obvious that Mona's way prevailed.

Patrick was taken to bed, stripped of his clothing except for his pantsand bathed in a cool, odd-smelling water. A cup of even strongerliquid was foisted upon him, after which he slept briefly.

Throughout the morning, between times of sleep, he studied Mona. He couldn't fix her age. She might have been a mature girl, or a very young woman. He only knew that, although she sighed frequently, sheseemed intent on accomplishing her purpose. But he'd bet she regrettedher mission.

At all times he could feel her eyes on him, her will imposing itself onhis. And he fought her control.

By noontime Patrick was sitting up, drinking more of Mona'sbitter-tasting concoctions and swearing oaths that would haveembarrassed the most seasoned sailor.

When Jillico next joined his friend, he did so with timidity.

"Are you better?"

"Better than what? Of course I'm better. If you'll just get thiswitch out of here with her poisons and bring me a pint of ale."

"Then the bad dreams are gone?" .

Patrick caught back the orders he'd been about to deliver and studiedhis young Natchez friend.

"What bad dreams?"

"About the woman in the river, the woman called Catherine? You talked about her in the boat, calling her name repeatedly. I feared she'd stolen your mind."

Until then Stone hadn't been certain. He remembered the storm,remembered diving into the water and reaching the runaway pirogue. He had vague recollections of the girl's continued presence.

"And her name was Catherine?" Jillico prompted.

"No. Catherine is someone I once knew. I don't know who the wench I rescued was. Just someone who was about to die."

"Do you know that you took a chance with your life, going toIsabella?

It is no longer safe for you there. Captain Hector Lopaz has beentransferred to the fort-to find you. "

At last the man he'd been waiting for had returned.

"Does he know about me?"

"No," Jillico said softly, wondering if he was doing the right thing,"I do not think he knows about Patrick McLendon. But he brags that hewill find Stone and that the governor will reward him by restoring himto his place of authority and allowing him to return to the city."

"Where has he been?"

"He was sent to the outpost at Pensacola."

"And now, Lopaz is here, at my mercy. First he imprisoned Patrick. Nowhe wants Stone. And, my friend, were it not for you, he might havecaptured him."

"Were it not for you, I would be dead."

Patrick considered their situation. Jillico and Pharoah had become the family he'd never had. They'd looked after one another. But this association with Stone could bring ruin to his friends.

"You must go, Jillico, else you place your people in danger."

Jillico made a crude sound and slapped his thigh.

"For nearly a hundred years the Natchez have fought to occupy the landat the head of the deep water. First came the fort, then settlers andfinally a town. Governments and people like Lopaz change, but ourpeople go on losing the most in this battle we fight for wealth andpossession."

"I am sorry, my friend. I wish I could change what has happened."

"It cannot be changed. After the last great war between the Natchezand the French, we fled into the swamps like dogs."

Like me, Patrick thought. But the time had come for him to fightback.

"Tell me, Jillico, why didn't your people retake Natchez after theFrench left?"

Jillico looked startled at his friend's question.

"My father asked the same question. He was told that the remainingwise men of our tribe met and decided that the strangers broughtnothing but greed, illness and death. When our Sun King was takenprisoner, it was agreed that the Natchez would forever removethemselves from danger. Some joined other tribes. Some of us learned their languages and how to live among the intruders. We survive and we wait."

"Your Sun King?"

"It is not your concern," Mona said.

"You cared for Jillico and now we give you our protection."

"But I bring new danger to you. Captain Lopaz will try to hunt me downfrom his base at Natchez-under the-Hill."

"Perhaps," Jillico said, "but he must survive the swamp."

Patrick thought about the snakes, the alligators, the moving earth thatwas firm one moment and a quagmire the next, and nodded.

"There's another man with Lopaz, an American who claims his woman ranaway with you. Stone. He's offered a large reward. I think that it isn't safe for us to ride the river for a while."

"Reward?" Patrick was puzzled.

"The girl in the boat, the one I saved?

She must be the one the American is seeking, and, bloody hell, I tookher right to him. "

"No. Isabella has her. She'll be safe. At least for now."

Stone looked out the window at the fields knee high with indigo. The plants were heavy with leaves from which the blue dye would be made andbean pods containing the seed for next year's crop. With little effort, Patrick McLendon had become not only a river pirate, but aplanter as well.

Now he'd come full circle. Traveling the river was never his choice; it had only been the means to reclaim that which was stolen from himwhile he awaited the chance to find Captain Lopaz and force him toadmit the truth. But Lopaz had disappeared, until now, and Patrick hadneeded a home base. It had seemed a fair exchange to use Spanish coins to buy land the Spanish had stolen from the Indians.

The planter who'd sold him the plantation had already sown the indigoseeds. Indigo was one of the few products for which there was a marketin the Old World. But for Patrick, the crop of his dreams was cotton,and one day, when his name was clear, he'd set about growing it.