She was grateful to have reached the fort. She was driving her mules, swearing to them beneath her breath, and wondering if the calluses would ever leave her fingers. She'd gotten them right through Uncle Joe's heavy leather gloves.

She was sweaty, salty and sticky, and her hair was coming loose from the neat braid she'd twisted at her nape. She had said that she could manage--and Lieutenant Slater had let her do just that.

His men had continued to be very kind, and she had continued to smile and be as gracious as she could in return. He had kept his distance since he had left her that night, but she had felt his eyes on her.

Always. his eyes were on her. When she drove the wagon, she would suddenly feel a warmth, and she would look around to discover that he was no longer at the head of the column, but had ridden back and was watching her. And at night, when. one of the men would bring her coffee or food, he would stare across the distance of the camp fire. And by night she heard footsteps, and she wondered if he wasn't walking by to determine if she was sleeping. If she was safe.

Or did he walk by to discover if she might still be awake?

He infuriated her, but she was also glad, and she realized that she felt safe. Not because she was surrounded by thirty or so cavalry men, but because he was walking by, because he was near.

But now they had come to the fort. He would turn her over to his commander and disappear from her life.

Someone would be a.s.signed to see her to Wiltshire, and she need never see him again. Never feel his eyes again, the touch of smoke gray and insinuation that warmed everything within her and seemed to caress her as if he saw her again as he had by the brook.

They were in front of the command post. Tess pulled hard on the reins, dropped them and started to leap from the driver's seat. She smiled, for Jon Red Feather was there to help her.

She had grown to like the man very much: his striking, st.u.r.dy appearance, his silence and his carefully chosen words. And she sensed that he believed her when others might not.

He set her upon the ground. She thanked him then looked at all the confusion around her. Wives, children and perhaps lovers had spilled from the various buildings in the compound to greet the returning men.

Monahah had called out an order dismissing them all, and the band was quickly breaking up.

Lieutenant Slater was striding up the steps to the broad porch that encircled the command post, saluting the tall, gray-haired man who awaited him. Jon indicated the steps.

"Miss. Stuart, I believe the colonel will want a statement from you as soon as possible. I'll see to your accommodations for the evening and return shortly."

He walked her to the porch. Apparently Slater had already explained something about her, for the colonel was quick to offer her a hand and guide her up the steps.

"Miss. Stuart, our most sincere condolences on the loss of your uncle, but may I say that we are heartily glad that you have survived to be here today," "Thank you," Tess said. It was strange. It already seemed like the whole thing had happened in the distant past. Days on the plains could do that, she decided. And yet, when the colonel spoke so solicitously of Uncle Joe, all the pain and the loneliness rushed back.

She tried to swallow them down. She needed to impress this man with intelligence and determination, not a fit of tears. She didn't want to be patted on the back. She wanted to be believed.

"Miss. Stuart, if you would be so good as to join us inside, the colonel would like to speak with you," Slater said.

There was a startling light in his eyes as they touched her. Not amus.e.m.e.nt, but something else. Almost a challenge. He wanted to see if she would back down, she thought. Well, she wouldn't.

She walked past both men and into a large office with file cabinets and a ma.s.sive desk and a mult.i.tude of crude wooden chairs. Slater pulled out a chair for her, and she sat down as regally as she could manage, pulling off her rough leather gloves and letting them fall into her lap.

She felt Slater's eyes, and she looked up then looked quickly away.

He had seen the blisters and calluses on her hands. The colonel took his seat behind the desk. He was an elderly man, whose gentle blue eyes seemed to belie his position as a commander of such a post. His voice, too, was gentle. Tess thought he was genuinely grateful to see her alive, even if he had never met her before.

"Would you like coffee, Miss. Stuart? I'm afraid I've no tea to offer you" -- "Coffee will be just fine, thank you," Tess said.

She hadn't realized that there was another man in the room unt'd a s'dent young corporal stepped forward to bring her a tin mug of black coffee. She thanked him and an awkward moment followed. Then the colonel sat forward, folding his hands on the desk.

"Miss. Stuart, Lieutenant Slater informs me that you have claimed that it was not Indians who set upon your band."

"That's right, sir."

"Then who?"

"White men. Hired guns for a man named yon Heusen. He is trying to take my uncle's property and" -- "He'd have men attack a whole wagon train to obtain your uncle's property? Think now, Miss. Stuart, is that logical?"

She gritted her teeth. Slater was watching her politely. She wanted to kick him.

"It wasn't a large wagon train, Colonel.

We've had good relations with the Comanche in our area, and my uncle wasn't afraid of the Comanche! We were traveling with a very small party, a few hired hands, my uncle-"

" Maybe, Miss. Stuart, the Indians weren't Comanche.

Maybe they were a stray band of Apache looking for easy prey, or Shoshone down from the mountains, or maybe even an offshoot of the Sioux"--" No Indian attacked that wagon train."

Tess swung around. Jon Red Feather had come into the room. He helped himself to coffee, then pulled up the chair beside Slater. He grinned at his friend, then addressed the colonel.

"I'm sure that Miss. Stuart does know a Comanche when she sees one, sir.

And it wasn't Apache. Apache usually only scalp Mexicans--in retaliation." He turned and smiled at Tess.

"And I can promise you that what was done was not done by the Sioux. A Sioux would never have left Miss. Stuart behind."

A shiver ran down Tess's spine. She didn't know if Jon meant that the Sioux would have taken her with them--or that they would have been sure to kill and scalp her, too. The colonel lifted his hands. Even with Jori corroborating her story, he didn't seem to believe her. Or if he did believe her, he had no intention of helping her.

"Miss. Stuart, I have heard of this von Heusen. He has big money, and big connections, and I understand he owns half the town" -- "Literally, Colonel.

He owns the judge and the sheriff and the deputies."

"Now, Miss. Stuart, those are frightful charges" -- "They are true charges."

"But don't you see, Miss. Stuart, you'd have to go into a court of law against this man. And you'd have to charge him in Wiltshire, and like you said ..." His voice trailed away. "Why don't you think of heading back east, Miss. Stuart?"

She was up on her feet instantly.

"Head back east? I have never been east, Colonel. I was born here in Texas.

My grandparents helped found Wiltshire. And the little bit of town that yon Heusen doesn't own yeti still do. I have no intention of turning it over to him! Colonel, there's nothing else that I can tell you. I have had a rather trying few days. If there's some place where I might rest, I'll be most grateful to accept your hospitality for a night or two.

Then, sir, I have to get home. I have a ranch and a paper that need my expertise."

The colonel was on his feet, too, and she sensed that, behind her, Jon and Slater had also risen. She spun around, feeling Slater's eyes, certain that he was laughing at her again.

But he wasn't laughing. His eyes were upon her, smoky and gray and enigmatic. She sensed that she had finally gained a certain admiration from him. What good it could do her, she didn't know. The colonel had been her last hope.

Now the battle was hers, and hers alone.

"Miss. Stuart, I'd like to help you if I could"

"Nonsense, Colonel. You don't believe a word I'm saying," Tess told him sweetly.

"That's your prerogative, sir. I am very fatigued ..."

"Miss. Stuart can take the old Casey place while she's here," Jori said.

"Doily Simmons is there now, with linens and towels."

"I shall be most grateful to the Caseys," Tess said. "No need," Slater drawled.

"Casey is dead. Caught a Comanche arrow last year. His wife went on hack east." He was taunting her, and she smiled despite it.

"I have told you all, Lieutenant, I've never been east" -- "Oh, not that east, Miss. Stuart. Mrs. Casey and the kids went to live in Houston, that's all."

"Well, I rather like the area I live in," she said sweetly, then she turned to the colonel.

"If I may, sir ... 7"

"Of course, of course! Jamie, you and Jon will please escort the young lady to her quarters. And Mis~ Stuart, if it's Wiltshire you're insisting on reaching, I'll arrange you an escort just as soon as possible."

"Thank you."

Jon opened the door. Tess sailed through it. Slater followed her.

"It's this way, Tess," Jon told her. He'd never used her first name before, and certainly not as he did now, intimately, as if they were old friends.

There was a bright light to his striking green eyes, and she realized that it was for the benefit of Jamie Slater. Jamie. Silently, she rolled the name on her tongue.

"Lieutenant" seemed to fit him better.

Not always . Not that day he had looked down at her on the rocks after shooting the snake. His hair had been ruffled, his shirt had fallen open, and she had wanted to touch him, to reach out and feel the vital movement of his flesh, so bronze beneath the setting sun. Then, then the name Jamie might have fit him just fight. It was an intimate name, ,a name for friends, or for lovers.

He was behind her still. Jon Red Feather was pointing things out to her.

"That's a general store, and there's our one and only alehouse, we don't dare call it a saloon. And down there is the coffeehouse for the ladies.

We've a number of women at the fort here. The colonel approves of the married men having their wives with them, and since the fort is strong and secure ..." He shrugged.

"Then, of course, we have the stores and the alehouse and the eoffcehouse, so we've a few young and unattached ladies, which makes it nice for the soldiers at the dances."

"Dances!"

"Why, Miss. Stuart, we do try to be civilized out here in the wilderness." "Desert," Jamie Slater said from behind them.

"I think it's really more a desert than a wilderness, don't you, Jon?"

He didn't wait for an answer, but continued, "There's the Casey house right there." He strode up three steps to a small house that seemed to share a supporting wall with the structure beside it.

The door burst open suddenly. There was a large buxom woman standing there.

She had an ageless quality about her, for her features were plump and clear, her eyes were dark and merry, and it was difficult to see if her hair was blond or silver.

"You poor dear! You poor, poor dear! Caught up in that awful Indian attack"

"Miss. Stuart doesn't believe that it was Indians, Dolly," Jamie Slater said evenly.

Dolly waved a hand in the air.

"Don't matter who it was, does it? It was awful and heinous and cruel and this poor girl lost her friends and her uncle. It was your uncle, fight, dear?" "Yes," Tess said softly.

Dolly had a hand upon her shoulders, drawing her into the house. Jon and Jamie Slater would have followed except that Dolly inserted her grand frame between them and the doorway.

"Jon, Jamie, get on with you now. I'li see to Miss. Stuart. I'm snre you were right decent to her on the trail, but she's had a bad time of it and I'm going to see to it that she has some time to rest, and I'm going to give her a nice long bath, some h.o.m.o-cooked food, and then I'm going to put her to bed for the night. She needs a little tenderness right now, and I'm not so sure you're the pair to provide it!"

"Right, Dolly," Jon said. Amused, he stepped back. Jamie Slater tipped his hat to Tess over Dolly's broad shoulder. His lip, too, was curled with a certain amus.e.m.e.nt, and Tess felt that, for once, she could too easily read the message behind his smok~-gray eyes. He thought that she needed tenderness just about as much as a porcupine did.

"Good evening, Miss. Stuart. I do hope that you'll be feeling better soon."

"If you're lucky, Jamie Slater, she'll be up and about for the dance tomorrow night."

"If I'm lucky" -- Jamie started to murmur. "Well, h.e.l.l, there's no lack of young men around here, Lieutenant!" Dolly said.

Tess could feel a brilliant crimson flush rising to her cheeks. She wasn't sure who she wanted to bat the hardest--Dolly for so boldly putting her into an awkward situation, or Jamie Slater for behaving as if escorting her to a dance would be a hardship.

"There's absolutely no need for anyone to concern himself," she said quietly, a note of steel to her voice. There-she'd given Slater his out.

"I consider myself in mourning. A dance would he completely out of the question."

"Would it?" There was a core of steel to Jamie's voice, too. He managed to step past Dolly and catch her shoulders, and she thought he was furious as he gazed into her eyes. She couldn't understand him in the least.

"I don't think so, Tess. Your uncle was a frontiersman, a fighter. I don't think he'd want you sitting around crying about what 53 can't be changed.

He'd know d.a.m.ned well that life out here was hard, and sometimes awfully darned short and sweet, and he'd want you to live. And that's what you're good at, isn't it? Fighting--living?"

"Lieutenant Slater, really, I" -- "Maybe it's just the fighting that you're so good at. Maybe you don't really know how to live at all."

She cast back her head, ignoring the grip of his fingers upon her shoulders.

She gritted her teeth hard, then challenged him hotly.

"And you think you're the one who could teach me how to live, Lieutenant?

Why, I'm not sure that you're more than a perfo~t Yankee mannequin yourself, Lieutenant."

His lip curled. His grip on her shoulders suddenly relaxed.

"Why don't you test me then, Miss. Stuart?"

"Jamie Slater, that young girl is vulnerable right now" -- Dolly started to warn him, but Jamie and Tess both spun on her.