Dempsey watched the men ride away. He felt hot with fury. He considered giving the order. Ott and Sutton would be dead. Whoever else had come with Sutton, his men would find and kill.

But he'd never get away with it that way. He had counted on Ott to panic andthe neighbors to be respectable witnesses. It wouldn't work now. Those cowards would say Ott had been alive when they left.

He wanted Sutton dead so badly he could taste it. One bullet. It would be so easy and Sutton would never see it coming. He'd have to wait for another time. He motioned his men to leave but he turned for one last look at the two men on the porch and promised himself that he wouldn't wait long.

Winn added the sc.r.a.pe of the knife on wood to the other night sounds.

He was sit ting on the bench outside the bunkhouse. He hoped he wasn't making enough noise to wake the others.

There had been another dream, the worst one yet. He had been in a wagonpulled by a runaway horse. There was a body slumped at his side and it wasCynthie's. He had never had any trouble forgetting the other dreams but thisone played again and again in his mind.

Somehow, he felt he could protect her if he stayed awake. It was silly.

There was no thing he could do. He had to think of a way to catch Dempsey,and the only good witness might never wake up.

He thought he heard a sound and held the knife still for a moment. He didn't have to wait long to hear the sound again. Though it came from several yardsaway he was sure he knew what it was.

Cynthie stared at the moonlight that fell on the wall of her room. She and Greg had stayed at the bunkhouse until Winn and the others had returned. Bythen Greg had fallen asleep on Peter's bunk, and Peter had suggested sheleave him. He told her he planned to sit up with Louie all night.

The house felt so empty with both Winn and Greg gone. Finally she got up andwalked to the window. Outside the yard was bathed in moonlight.

She could make out a figure beside the bunkhouse and instantly recognizedWinn. He looked as if he were keeping guard.

She still found it hard to believe all the things he said about Kyle.

It did make a certain amount of sense, but she had thought she knew Kyle sowell. Winn had talked to her briefly after they returned from Ott's but shedidn't have a clear idea of what had happened.

All evening, as she had sat beside Louie, she had prayed for him. Her ranch wasn't worth anyone's life. The old man had been such a good friend that shecouldn't imagine the ranch without him. She knew she was missing Louiealready and told herself that she shouldn't give up hope.

She watched Winn's hands working with something that was too far away to see. She should take him to Boston to the school. She and Greg could movethere to be with him. She would miss the ranch but it wasn't worth the cost.

She saw Winn's head come up suddenly and his hands go still. She stiffened. Had he heard something? She looked out the window as far as she could in both directions. When she looked back at the bunkhouse, Winn was gone.

She stood a moment longer, loo king for him. Something was going on.

Perhaps he had heard Peter. Perhaps Louie had died! She turned quickly intoher room and grabbed a robe. She ran down the stairs and stopped at herfront door. Some sixth sense told her to be cautious.

She stood a moment before quietly opening the door and stepping outside.

Winn had moved to the side of the bunkhouse away from the sound. He walked carefully along, one hand on the rough siding of the building.

He was on the east side, the door was on the west. The sound he had heard came from the north, away from the rest of the yard.

When he reached the corner, he froze, listening for the sound again.

There it was, a faint jingling. He placed it near the northwest corner ofthe bunkhouse. There might be a moon tonight and he couldn't risk being seen.

He waited until the intruder moved to the far side of the building.

When he was sure, he rounded the corner and moved after him, as quickly as hecould without ma king noise. As he went, he tried to think of what he could use as a weapon. The little pocketknife was all he carried. He searched his memory for an ax or hoe left beside the bunkhouse, but knew there was nothing.

Kyle Dempsey moved stealthily toward the door of the bunkhouse. His horse was hidden in the trees by the creek. He had been careful to keep thebuilding between himself and Cynthie's house. Those in the bunkhouse would be easy to handle. It was probably only the Merlin boy and the blind man.And, of course, old Louie. If he was lucky, the n.i.g.g.e.r would be out watchingthe herd. If not, he would kill him, too.

They would each die from a bullet from Sutton's gun. Everyone would thinkthe blind man had snapped, killed the others, then killed himself.

Poor Cynthie would find them. She would have to handle it alone. She would have to go for the sheriff herself. But he would be along later to comforther. There wouldn't be much left of her independence then.

There wouldn't be much of anything left for her but Kyle Dempsey.

He smiled to himself and slowly opened the door a crack. Moonlight through awindow revealed three occupied beds and one figure slumped in a chair.

They were all together. His biggest threat, he knew, was the n.i.g.g.e.r.

He'd take him first, then the half- grown boy. Sutton would go next.

He would have to hurry once he started because Cynthie would hear the shotsand she wasn't the type to cower in her room. He'd have to get it done andget away.

He eased the door open a little farther. As he moved to cross the threshold, he felt the point of a gun in his back. How could this be?

"I wouldn't move at all, if I were you." It was that d.a.m.n blind man's voice! He looked again at the beds. One was occupied by Cynthie's little boy!

Sutton wasn't a threat. This could still work.

"How will you know if I do?" he sneered.

"I'll know," Winn said confidently.

"And at this range, I can't miss." He nudged him in the back again, pushinghim inside.

Winn heard a sigh and a m.u.f.fled curse and knew they had awakened the others.He had to get Peter or Jeremiah armed before Dempsey realized it wasn't agun- in his back. Sooner or later, he'd notice that the wood wasn't coldenough to be the steel barrel of a gun.

"Peter. Jeremiah. Better light a light." He smelled the sulfur flare almost immediately.

He heard running steps behind him and knew it was Cynthie. He tried not to think of the danger she might put herself in. He poked Dempsey again.

"One of you better take his gun."

"Peter'11 get 'em," he heard Jeremiah say.

"I got my rifle on the son of a b.i.t.c.h."

Dempsey had watched his plans fall apart as the others awakened and Jeremiahgrabbed a rifle. He glared at that rifle as he let Peter take the twopistols. Once he had decided there was no way to regain the upper hand, hestarted thin king of a story. It had to be something that Cynthie wouldbelieve. They were framing him, had gone to his house and brought him here.Anger was ma king it hard for him to think clearly but he knew he would thinkof something.

Sutton had backed off a step and Dempsey turned toward him.

"How did you..." He stopped when he saw what the man was holding. A silly little wooden stick!

"I guess I won't be needing this anymore," Winn said and shoved it into his

pocket as if he were bolstering a gun.

"Why, you" -- Dempsey started.

"Stop." It was Peter's voice. He had tossed one pistol on a nearby bunk but

still held the other.

"Better tie his hands, Peter," Winn said.

"Did you kill my pa?"

Winn wasn't sure what Peter was doing but he knew he had made no move to tie

Dempsey. He also knew Peter was the one who had taken Dempsey's gun andmight decide to take matters into" his own hands.

"Peter," he warned.Dempsey watched the boy as he turned a pistol slowly, studying it, and wantedto laugh. Merlin's brat wouldn't have the nerve to shoot him, no matter whathe knew. His only worry here was Jeremiah. If he could get the little foolbetween himself and that rifle there might still be a chance.

"It's kinda late now to be trying to prove it," he sneered.

Dempsey edged away from Winn as he spoke. Peter didn't move but continued tolook over the pistol as if he had never seen one before.' "Maybe," Peter said."Peter." It was Cynthie's voice.Dempsey turned to see her step inside and place a hand on Sutton's arm.He couldn't believe his bad luck. Until she arrived there had still been a chance

of carrying out his original plan. He spoke quickly to Cynthie,"They've brought me here to kill me!" "Forget it, Dempsey," Winn said. Jeremiah spoke up, clearly nervous about the situation. "Get his hands tied, Peter." Cynthie had just started to relax and now she felt all her fear return.

She watched Peter as he handled the gun, oblivious to anyone but Dempsey. She wanted to step forward, to try to bring him out of his trance, but shewould be between Betts and Kyle if she did. The boy slowly leveled thepistol at Dempsey.

"Peter," she warned again."Did you kill my pa?" Peter's voice was soft.Kyle went cold with fear."The boy's gone crazy."Peter sighted down the barrel of the gun."W. M.," he said almost casually.Kyle was afraid to move. He spread his arms out at his sides."Cynthie, you've got to stop him.""You ever notice those initials when you cleaned this gun?" Peter asked, slowly lowering the gun to his side.

Cynthie sighed with relief when Peter tossed the gun onto a bunk and turned

to get a length of rope. Betts stepped forward to remind Dempsey that he andthe rifle were still there."Initials, Peter?" Winn asked.Peter nodded toward the pistol on the bunk. "Pa's," he said.Dempsey was quiet as Peter tied his hands together.Winn asked, "Jeremiah, can you deliver our friend, here, to the sheriff?""Yes, sir!" he answered.

"Where's your horse?" Peter asked Dempsey as he took his arm and directedhim toward the door. Dempsey stared at him in stony silence.

"We'll find it in the morning" Jeremiah said. Peter left the bunkhouse to saddle two horses.

Dempsey cast Winn a loathing glare as Jeremiah urged him to follow.

Chapter Fifteen.

Q^yips^Q 1 he bunkhouse seemed quiet. Cynthie watched Winnand knew he listened carefully to every sound she made, watching her in his own way.

"What made you come out here?" Winn asked her.

"We weren't ma king enough noise for you to hear us at the house."

"I was watching you," she said a little hesitantly. She wanted to scold Winn for putting himself in such danger. At the same time, she wanted to slipinto his arms and stay there until her knees quit shaking and her racingheart returned to its normal pace. With a rueful smile, she realized thatthat wouldn't happen in Winn's arms.

She felt a need to move around, break the tension she was feeling. Winn might not have forgiven her for doubting his warning about Kyle. She wasn't sure at all that she was welcome in his arms.

She crossed the room to the bunk where her son slept. As she tucked the blanket more tightly around his shoulders, she wondered how he had sleptthrough all the excitement.

It was Winn who broke the silence.

"I think you'll find that Dempsey was the cattle thief. You should be ableto ranch in peace now, I hope."Cynthie watched him a moment. She loved him so much and wanted to tell him but she wasn't sure he would believe her. Not after the way she had yelled at him when Louie was shot.

"I'm sorry I didn't listen to you," she whispered.

Winn shook his head.

"You were right, though. I had no business asking Louie to take me to Dempsey's."

Cynthie accepted that as hope that he would forgive her, but how could she

convince him that what she felt was love and not pity, as he suspected?She took a step toward him. How could she express something she didn'tunderstand? How could she make him believe something that still surprisedher? Could she tell him she loved him for the way he played with Greg, forthe way he treated everyone, in fact? Would he believe her if she told himshe loved him for who he was and that had no thing to do with sight?

"Winn," she whispered, moving closer.

' "Will you two do your ma kin' up somewheres else and let an old man sleep?"

Cynthie turned quickly to Louie's bedside.