"Perhaps he hasn't reached that limit yet. Forgive me for being blunt, but it seems to me you and Vanessa have sheltered him too much."

"We were afraida""

"Afraid to give him responsibility? I can understand that. He obeyed orders tonight. In that respect he's more responsible than Vanessa."

"I've been thinking about that. Henry has never known the companionship of a man. If his father had lived . . ."

"You'd better get some sleep, Mrs. Hill."

"Yes, I will. Thank you, Mr. DeBolt."

"Kain, ma'am. I'd be pleased if you called me Kain."

Kain stretched out on his bedroll well back from the wagons, rested his head on his folded arms and looked up at the stars. His mind was too busy to record the sound of a coyote calling to his mate or her answer echoing in the stillness. He was filled with a quiet unrest as his thoughts raced. Was it possible that Adam Clayhill had a brother who had called himself Henry Hill? Adam was a common enough name and so was Hill. It was the fact that Henry looked so much like Cooper, Adam's son, that set Kain's mind to wondering if Henry Hill could have been Henry Clayhill. But, he reasoned, Ellie said she had had a letter from Adam Hill.

Kain turned restlessly in his bed. If Adam Clayhill were Henry's uncle, Mrs. Hill would find no sympathy for her son there. Adam was the most ruthless and bigoted man he'd ever known. If he despised his own son because of his Indian blood, he would heartily despise this naive young man with a limited intelligence.

Henry looked enough like him to be his nephew, Kain thought. He also looked enough like Cooper to be his brother. The Clayhills seemed to have strong family characteristics. Logan Horn, Adam's Indian son, had said Adam Clayhill resembled his brother who had raised Logan. Poor Mrs. Hill. She and her son should have stayed in Missouri. On the heels of that thought came another: if they had, he would not have met Vanessa.

His reverie turned to her and the way she had smiled at him earlier. Her warm gaze had reached some longing deep within him, secret even from himself. Nothing in his life had geared him for love, for home and family. He had thought about it sometimes as he went his lonely way, but always as something other men had.

With a woman like Vanessa to love, protect and build a life around, a man would be king. But why think of that now? It was too late.

The succeeding days would have been the happiest of Kain's life if not for the shadow of death that hung over him. He did not feel like a dying man. His mind had accepted the verdict and filed it away in some secret part of his brain so that it didn't keep him from enjoying the warmth of the sun or the taste of the cool night wind. He felt better than he had in weeks and the pains did not bother him so much. Once, when they came suddenly, viciously, he rode away by himself, retched, and found blood on his lips. While he waited to get his strength back, the lonely spot in his heart ached for warmth, for love.

Each morning he woke with a sensation of excitement about another day to spend with Vanessa. Sometimes they rode together, and at other times he rode beside the wagon while Vanessa drove the team. It seemed as if they had, by mutual consent, dropped their rapiers and were now able to engage in light conversation. Kain and John chose the campsites, and Vanessa seemed to be pleased to relinquish some of the responsibility.

Each evening, while Ellie and Mary Ben prepared the evening meal, Kain spent time with Henry. First he taught him how to break down the rifle and clean it. Then he taught him how to load and shoot it. Kain was painstakingly patient and discovered that Henry's mind grasped the mechanics of the weapon much faster than it did the actual aiming and firing of the gun.

One evening, while out of sight of the others, Kain suddenly turned, hooked his foot behind Henry's knees, and threw him to the ground. Stunned, Henry looked up at him with eyes filled with disappointment.

"What did I do, Kain? Why are you mad at me?"

"I'm not mad." He reached for his hand and hauled him to his feet. "I just wanted to show you how fast you can knock a man off his feet if you know how. Do you want to learn?"

"I don't like to hurt people."

"That bully back in Dodge was trying to hurt you. Didn't you want to fight back?"

"I didn't know how."

"I can show you."

"Do you think I can learn?"

"Of course you can. You can learn to do anything you want to do if you try hard enough."

"I don't like to fight."

"I don't either, but if someone picks a fight, I fight back and try and get it over with as soon as I can. There are several places where you can hit a man that will lay him low. Here, I'll show you."

At first Henry was reluctant to use his strength against Kain, but after several sessions he began to enjoy the bouts. The first time he hooked Kain behind the knees and threw him to the ground, Henry whooped with laughter.

Four days after Kain started riding openly with Vanessa's party, they came to the forks of the Arkansas River and Big Sandy Creek. A train of six wagons taking the Big Sandy route to Denver were camped there, farmers from Ohio seeking new land. The train moved out the next morning in spite of John's warning about Indian trouble in that area.

"d.a.m.n know-it-alls," John snorted as he watched them pull out. "They'll get them women 'n kids killed is what they'll do."

"Maybe," Kain said. "But what can you do?"

"Nothin'."

Kain had taken an immense liking to the gray-haired old man who had spent his life on the Plains. He was a thoroughly skeptical old wolf who let his sight and his instincts ferret things out, and then acted according to what was necessary at the time.

"What made you strike out after the Hills and Vanessa, John?" They were each leading a span of mules to the water Henry and Mary Ben were behind them with John's team.

"Well, now, it was jist a idey I had. I knowed they was nice folks, quality folks. I knowed they'd no more trail sense than a p.i.s.sant. More than that I figgered twas time Mary Ben met up with some quality womenfolk."

"How long has she been with you?"

"Two, three year, I reckon. Some fellers told me a wild gal was alivin' in a cave down 'long the Canadian River. I figgered I ain't ne'er seen no wild gal 'n I'd jist mosey on down to get me a look-see. What I found was a scared little ole gal what was pert near starved to death. 'Er pa'd run off 'n left her 'n her ma. 'Er ma'd died. The poor little mite buried 'er all by 'er ownself. It was plumb pitiful. She'd been ahidin' out from drifters 'n the like. It took me a spell jist to get in talkin' range. I put out some grub n' them vittles was mighty temptin' to the youngun. I couldn't leave 'er or jist set 'er off somewheres. She been with me since."

"It seems like she and Henry have taken to each other," Kain said after a spurt of soft, girlish laughter came from behind them.

"I ain't ne'er heard her laugh till jist lately. It's plumb purty to hear," John said proudly. "She's agoin' to hate leavin' these folks." He watched the mules slurp the water thirstily.

"Did you have it in mind to ask them to take Mary Ben?"

"No. I ain't had no notion to do that. It'd be a horse of a different color if'n they was to ask. I do get to worryin' 'bout her some. She'd had it hard, awful hard. She don't know nothin' a'tall 'bout town livin'."

"Are you thinking to kick the bucket pretty soon, old man?" Kain asked with a teasing grin.

"I aim to put it off long's I can," John answered staunchly. "Still, it'd be peaceful on my mind if'n Mary Ben had folks who'd look after 'er."

"How would it set with you to come along to Junction City?"

"I give it thought when twas said the womenfolk was agoin' there. Ya reckon there'd be work?"

"I thought you wanted to try your hand at panning for gold down along Cripple Creek?"

"Naw! Why'd I want to freeze my a.r.s.e off fer a nugget or two 'n pay it all out fer beans 'n bacon? 'Sides, a gold camp ain't no fit place fer Mary Ben."

Kain sent a smooth stone dancing across the sunlit water. Everyone needed someone, he thought. This rusty-voiced old man needed something to love and care for, and he had found it in the young girl who had no one.

"I know a few people near Junction City. Mary Ben would find a welcome. You too, old man, if you can make yourself useful around a horse ranch."

John took off his hat and scratched his head. "It's what I'd hoped fer."

"It won't take much more than a week to get to Denver. And another week to Junction City if the weather holds."

"If'n we don't have no breakdowns. I'm athinkin' the Hill's wagon'll need a rim in a day or two."

Kain felt a warning pain in his stomach and his mouth filled with saliva as sickness rolled over him. He stood still, breathing hoa.r.s.ely, dreading the agonizing pains that were sure to follow.

"I'm going to ride out for a little bit, John," he said when he was sure he could speak casually. "Henry," he called, "I'd be obliged if you'd take the mules back to the wagon and hitch them up. I'll be back soon."

Without waiting for an answer, Kain walked quickly to where he had tied his horse, mounted and rode back down the trail, then into a thick stand of willows and cattails that grew along the creek. He clenched his teeth and closed his eyes against the pain that knifed through him. He pulled Big Red to a halt and waited, hoping the pain would let up and he wouldn't retch. He didn't move for a long while and his breathing eased. The pain subsided, yet he waited. Sweat beaded his forehead and he wiped it away with the sleeve of his shirt.

This was the first attack he'd had in several days. He had felt better lately, and he was sure this was due to the good food Mrs. Hill prepared, stews, rice, beef or rabbit broth with dumplings. Greasy food upset his stomach, so he steered clear of it. Kain thought back to the morning meal. He hadn't eaten much. Although he was almost always hungry, he hesitated to eat more than a few bites at a time. Now, he realized, he would have to eat in order to keep up his strength. This feeling of weakness scared him.

Big Red's ears perked and twitched seconds before Kain heard hoofbeats. When he heard the approaching horse turn from the trail and come toward the willows, he turned Big Red in order to face whoever was coming. He shifted the reins and dropped his hand to his thigh near his gun.

Vanessa came toward him, bending her head to keep the willow branches from dislodging her hat. She was unsmiling. Her blue eyes questioned his, and her face expressed concern.

"Kain? Is something wrong? I saw you leave camp anda""

His slow smile altered the stern cast of his face. "Nothing is wrong. I saw movement down here and figured to get some fresh meat. But if there was a deer here, it's probably halfway to Texas by now."

For a moment Vanessa gravely studied him, her brows lifted in puzzled arcs. "You look pale, and white around the mouth. Are you sick? Aunt Ellie says you don't eat enough. She thinks you don't like her cooking."

"I'll have to set her straight on that. I'm all right. I've had a little trouble with my stomach. I think I got food poisioning back in Dodge. Are you driving today or is Henry?"

"They've already started. If you got some tainted food back in Dodge, you should be over it by now."

"Are you a doctor?" he teased.

"No," she said slowly and lowered her gaze to her hands, suddenly uncomfortable under his direct eyes. "But my father was. I learned a lot from him."

"How are you at digging out bullets?"

"I've done it," she said simply.

"You might get a chance to do it again if that cold-eyed breed catches up with us."

"Do you think he will?" she asked almost fearfully.

"I'd not bet that he won't. It was a blow to his pride to have to back down in front of you. Pride is all a man like that has. It'll force him to do something to redeem himself in your eyes."

Vanessa's face mirrored her distaste. "I'm sorry about that morning. I didn't knowa""

"You don't understand, do you? Out here, Vanessa, a man would die for a woman like you."

A faint run of color laid its fleeting change across her face and she gave a short laugh. "Are women that scarce?"

"Women are scarce," he admitted. "And the odds against finding a young, beautiful woman are mighty slim."

A smile continued to lengthen her lips. "I think I just had a compliment."

"There's no doubt about it." She caught the brilliant flash of his smile and heard his hearty laugh as he put his heels to the stallion.

"We'd better catch up. Aunt Ellie will think we're lost." Her laugh was a free and warm sound.

"I'd hoped we could make twenty-five miles today." Kain followed her out of the willows and onto the trail. He held Big Red down to a fast walk so it would take longer to reach the wagons. Vanessa rode beside him, her feet lightly resting in the stirrups.

"Where did you learn to ride like that?" he asked.

"My father was a mighty particular man where horses were concerneda"not to mention the way they were ridden. He almost killed me before I sat a saddle to suit him."

"He knew what he was doing."

Vanessa said nothing for awhile, then she said above the rhythmic thud of hooves, "He knew a lot about a lot of things." There was a note of sadness in her voice.

"Tell me about him."

She gave him a measuring glance. "He was a wonderful man, a dedicated doctor. He had helped so many people, saved many lives, but could not save his own. The war killed him. He drank himself to death after he came home."

"I'm sorry."

She shrugged her shoulders. "It's been three years."

On mutual impulse the horses broke into a measured canter, carrying them closer and closer to the wagons. At first Vanessa permitted herself only darting glances at Kain, but as he became more and more engrossed in his thoughts, she held her eyes fixed on him, studying him from boot to hairline. Something had happened to her that day in Dodge City when she had looked into his tawny eyes. The attraction had stayed with her. It was one that she felt deeply. There was a kinship between them that had not existed between her and another man.

He watched her without speaking.

Finally he broke the silence with her name. She barely noticed what he said, her gaze was fixed on the movement of his lips.

"Vanessa," he said again. "Vanessa. The name suits you."

"Aunt Ellie said my mother read a story about a red-haired siren named Vanessa, and when I arrived with red hair that was the only name she could think of."

"I don't think I've heard it before. I like it. I like your hair, too. It's . . . it's magnificent."

She laughed, her eyes wide and sparkling. His eyes feasted on her face, the graceful tilt of her head, her laughing mouth.

"I know it's hard to find a word to describe it," she said teasingly. "You're too kind."

"I'm not being kind. You don't know how beautiful you are, do you?" he said engimatically, and was more personal with his voice than before.

Color flooded her cheeks and she dropped the reins on the mare's neck and ducked her head in a show of fastening her already securely anch.o.r.ed hat. They rode in silence and had almost reached the wagons before either spoke.

"Hold back a moment, Vanessa. I want to talk to you about Mrs. Hill and Henry. What do you know about Henry's uncle, Adam Hill?"

"Nothing, really. Aunt Ellie wrote to him many times and finally got a letter from him when Henry was two years old. She had been trying to locate her husband in Chicago and her letters had been returned. She thought he had deserted her, but then she found out he had died a hero and now she idolizes his memory."