"More than you know," she said serenely.

Michael's godfather was a judge. Rennie's, a bishop. Maggie and Skye had godparents in politics, and her own godfather was the director of one of the largest financial houses in New York. She told all this to Ryder and added, "Jay Mac wanted to see that we were all protected from some of the censure society coldly reserves for bastard children. His foresight didn't make us respectable, but it did make us respected more or less." She paused.

"Why are you smiling?"

"I'm imagining you as a child, bloodying the nose of someone who dared to whisper you were a bastard.

And God help the person who said it about one of your sisters within your hearing." He saw by Mary's pink cheeks that he had hit the mark perfectly.

"You may have tormented the other Marys, and I'm sure they tormented in turn, but I'll wager that when it came to society's cold censure, the five of you closed ranks so tightly cannonshot couldn't have breached your defenses. I should think that in time Jay Mac discovered all his protection was superfluous." Mary nodded.

"Poor Jay Mac," she said without a hint of pity in her voice.

"He loves us all to distraction."

There were two telegrams left unopened. One of them, Mary knew, had to be from her father. Her hand wavered between them. She picked the one on the left and opened it. Her sigh was audible.

"It's from Rennie and Jarret," she said, glancing at the last line first. She scanned the contents quickly, then went over it again, filling Ryder in.

"The search for us has all but been called off.

Rennie says General Gardner thinks we left the area a long time ago and isn't willing to commit so many men to our capture. Rennie is battling him on it, of course." She glanced at Ryder.

"Can't you just picture her insisting that Gardner muster all his forces for another search and all the while she knows we're somewhere east of the Mississippi?" Mary went back to reading.

"Rosario's dead," she said, her voice deep with regret.

"Apparently he tried to escape and fell into one of the vertical mine shafts." Privately Ryder wondered if there were more to the story than Jarret or Rennie cared to share. For himself, Ryder had no regrets, but he watched Mary struggle with this news.

"Do they write anything of Geronimo?" he asked. Mary inhaled deeply and let the breath out slowly, composing herself.

"Only that he still evades capture.

There have been no more raids on the mining camp." She frowned.

"This is strange.

Rennie wants to know about the map. She's interested in it and wants to survey. What's she talking about?" Ryder shrugged.

"Hell if I--" He stopped, his brows drawn together, remembering.

"When we were leaving the mine the man who stopped you, thinking you were Rennie... didn't he want a map?"

"Oh, God, yes. I forgot. I gave him one of the ones from your saddle bags." Ryder jumped off the bed and went straight to the wardrobe. He took out the saddlebags, opened them, and removed the two remaining maps.

The map that showed the largest geographical area was still there.

So was the one that charted the caves and passages of the Cavern of Lost Souls.

"You gave him Joe Panama's map of Colter Canyon. And he gave it back to your sister."

Mary was relieved.

"Well, that's not so bad. For a moment I was afraid Rennie had taken it in her head to survey the cavern. I don't think she should go around blasting a burial site, do you?"

"I was thinking the same thing." He folded the maps and put the saddlebags away.

"At least there's no harm in her having Panama's map. She's welcome to it." He gave Mary a knowing look.

"As if either one of us could stop her."

"Welcome to my family." She put aside Rennie's telegram and picked up the last one.

"Do you want to open it?" she asked hopefully.

"He's your father-in-law."

"Pass." He did walk over to Mary's side. She made room for him on the edge of the desk, and he read over her shoulder when she unfolded Jay Mac's telegram. HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND STOP ON MY WAY STOP HAVE SHOTGUN STOP "Your father does not mince words," said Ryder.

"It's succinct."

"At least he hasn't notified any authorities. He could just as easily have turned me in."

"That's not Jay Mac's way," Mary said, sighing.

"No, I'm afraid he wants to kill you himself."

"That's how I read it, too." They were silent for more than a minute, simply staring at the neatly phrased telegram, before they burst out laughing. Not that there was anything remotely funny about John MacKenzie Worth's questioning his daughter's sanity or stalking Ryder with a loaded shotgun. It was just that the tension needed a release, and Ryder and Mary could find it in the most unlikely of places. Mary replaced the telegram carefully in its envelope and wiped the tears that had gathered at the corners of her eyes.

"If Jay Mac's coming, then you can be certain he's not alone. The cavalry is coming with him." The same thought had occurred to Ryder.

It didn't matter that none of the other telegrams mentioned it, the rest of the family would be there if for no other reason than to prevent Jay Mac from committing murder.

"I suspect the Marys are about to close ranks," he said.

"Be thankful we're closing them around you." He leaned toward her and kissed her cheek.

"I give thanks every day." It wasn't until they reached Baltimore that Ryder told Mary about his uncle. He didn't expect anything to dissuade her, so he simply put off the unpleasant task until time ran out.

Mary had bought a newspaper at the Baltimore station, and she was reading it, her eyes intent. He took the paper out of her hands when calling her name had absolutely no effect on her concentration.

"What is it?" she asked. She was not successful at masking her annoyance.

"I was reading that, you know." Ryder folded the paper and tossed it on the desk. It slid across the surface, teetered on the far edge, then fell to the floor. Mary started to rise to get it, but he stopped her.

"I want to talk to you," he said. It was his grave tone more than the words themselves that had Mary sitting again. She looked at him curiously, her annoyance vanishing.

"I know you've put a lot of stock in my uncle's help," he began.