Arrow Of The Heart

Quinn-AHeartArrow of the HeartJanet QuinnAmber Quill PressCopyright © 2005 by Janet CornelowRomance/Fantasy. 92528 words long. enNoveltext/xml

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Arrow of the Heart by Janet Quinn ----------------------------------Romance/Fantasy Amber Quill Press www.amberquill.com Copyright ©2005 by Janet Cornelow NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

ARROW OF THE HEART by JANET QUINN **** ISBN 1-59279-409-2 Amber Quill Press, LLC www.amberquill.com Also By Janet Quinn The Kilted Governess The River's Treasure DEDICATION To my biggest fan, my sister Kathy. To my sons, Tom, Michael and Robby, and my daughter-in-law Jessi for all their confidence, support and love. To Debra, my critique partner, for all her help and encouragement. CHAPTER 1 Arizona, 1884 “You're blooming crazy, Jake. Blooming crazy.” Cassidy Howard shifted in the leather chair and placed

her dusty, booted feet on the polished surface of Jake Stinson's antique maple desk. She let her hands flop on the overstuffed arms of the chair. “I'm desperate, not crazy.” Jake twisted a cigar between his fingers. “Get your feet off my desk before you scratch the wood.” He stood and shoved her feet away and wiped the dust from the polished surface. Cassidy shifted slightly and positioned her feet back on the desk. A grimace crossed Jake's face and she laughed. “Then you must think I'm crazy." “Cassandra, you're the only one who can do this for me. I'll pay you well.” Jake looked at her feet, shrugged and sat behind the massive desk. Lighting his cigar, he blew a puff of gray smoke that hung in a cloud above the kerosene lamp. Cassidy looked at Jake for a long moment. She'd known him for nigh on fourteen years, since he'd found her alone on the streets of Glendale, Arizona. He'd offered her a job cleaning house for him. She'd refused. “You can't pay me enough to ride through Apache territory. No amount of money is going to pay me for my hide or my scalp." Jake leaned forward. “Cassandra, please." “You know you're pushing your luck here, Jake. I hate it when anyone calls me that and you know it.” She stared into his slate gray eyes and read the panic. “Why can't you just wire the money to Sonora?" “I told you, Señor Rodriguez won't take anything but gold for his cattle. The gold has to be there in three days.” He stood and walked to the window, pulled back the heavy velvet drapes and stared out across his land. “You've got a bit of a problem, don't you, Jake?” She smiled at him. Her response had been quick when his wire asking for her help had arrived. She'd helped Jake many times over the years after building herself a reputation with her sharp-shooting and fast riding. She'd often transported money for him in his dealings. She'd even been known to stand up in a land feud a time or two. A year or so back, she'd have done this job for him without even thinking about it, but somewhere along the way, her hide had become more important to her. He'd offered her two hundred dollars, which was a lot of money right at the moment seeing as she had a two-dollar gold piece and two bits in her pocket. Hardly enough to pay for a room and dinner at the hotel. She shrugged. Another night on the ground wouldn't hurt her any, though she'd been looking forward to a hot bath. The river got mighty cold. “Cassandra Howard, how can you be so cruel? You know I'd do anything to help you. Haven't I always been there for you? Helped you all I could?" Cassidy laughed. Lowering her feet to the floor, she leaned forward and took a cigar from the box on Jake's desk. She sniffed it slowly. Jake only had the best, but always at someone else's expense. “If you hadn't tried to cheat Rodriguez the last time you dealt with him, you wouldn't be having these problems now.” After she bit the end off the cigar, she put it in her mouth and reached for a match. Jake grabbed the cigar. “Ladies don't smoke." She looked down at her buckskin pants covered in trail dust. “If I was a lady, you wouldn't be asking me to ride into Mexico carrying twenty-five hundred dollars worth of gold.” Standing, she walked over to a cabinet and took out a bottle of whiskey. After pouring two glasses, she handed one to Jake. “What'll it take to get you to do this for me?” Jake threw the golden liquid down his throat.

Cassidy sipped her drink. “I'm not going, Jake. I've only seen twenty-six years and there are a mighty lot of things I want to do before I die. One of them isn't being chased across the Arizona territory by a bunch of Apaches on the warpath. I've seen enough of them to last me a life time." “Cassandra, you've done it before. Last year you rode down to Sonora for me.” Jake rose and poured himself another drink. “Last year they hadn't just escaped the reservation. Last I heard they were headed for Sonora themselves. I don't cotton running into them on the way.” The night the Apaches had swooped down on her parents’ home still haunted her sleep. The sound of her mother screaming would never die from her ears. Cassidy had barely escaped that day. If she hadn't made it out the back window and to the deserted wolf's den where she stayed for two days, she'd have ended her brief twelve-year-old life with her parents. Sometimes she wondered why she hadn't, though she'd never regretted surviving. Life might be hard, but she enjoyed every moment of it. She'd built herself a life of freedom, free from the societal constraints on women. She came and went as she pleased and refused to wear a dress or a corset. Granted, at times, like when she saw a woman holding a babe in her arms, she longed to find a man and settle down, but she'd make a lousy farmer's wife. Hell, she'd probably make a lousy wife. She didn't cater to anyone, especially not a man. “Cassandra, please. I'll give you three hundred dollars if you do this for me. It won't take you but three days to get there. Once you're in Sonora, you can have a fine time with that much money." “Jake, I'm not going. That ride's a hard three days. Insanity doesn't run in my family." “You have to go. I'll be ruined if you don't." “You should've thought of that earlier.” Jake was one of the few men she could call friend, but she didn't trust him not to take advantage of that friendship. “I know you're broke. Where else are you going to make that kind of money for three days’ work?” He relit his cigar and puffed away on it. The sunlight from the window played against the smoke. “Besides, if you'll go, I'll let you use the guest room tonight." “That's so sweet of you, Jake. If you were a gentleman, you'd let me use the guest room anyway." “All right, but I don't see why you won't go to Sonora for me. I'll give you four hundred dollars and you're robbing me at that." “No one has ever robbed you, Jake Stinson.” Cassidy laughed. “If you want to see me in ruins, Cassandra, then just sit there and refuse to help me. And after all I've done for you over the years." “I've returned your favors tenfold, Jake. You know that. You're just trying to make me feel guilty and it won't work. I gave up feeling guilty about anything years ago.” She sipped at the amber liquid in her glass. Looking across the desk at him, she smiled. “I'll be going to Sonora for you when hell freezes over, Jake." She let the whiskey slide down her throat, heating her body on the inside. It would help stop the cold when she made camp tonight. Staying at Jake's would only give him more of an opportunity to work at her. “Stop calling me Cassandra. I hate that."

**** The pouch of gold coins bounced against Cassidy's chest as she urged Storm forward. It had to be mighty cold in hell about now as she headed for Sonora with Jake's gold. She glanced behind her. Nothing stirred. The hair at the back of her neck prickled and she urged the horse on faster across the sparsely grown ground. Once she made the mountains, she'd feel safer. They offered protection, a place to hide if the need arose. She didn't like being out in the open. She must have had too much whiskey. Otherwise she'd never have agreed to this foolhardiness. Everyone knew a renegade group of Apache had broken free from the reservation. No one knew exactly where they were, but most figured they were heading for Sonora, just like her. Of course, if she made it, the five hundred dollars Jake had finally paid her would keep her in style in Mexico until the Apache calmed down and she could safely return home. Maybe she'd head out to California. She'd grown tired of Arizona. Or maybe she'd just keep going north until she got to Colorado. That was some mighty pretty country. She could hunt and trap this winter and spring and have a stake so she didn't have to sleep in the dirt most of the summer. Then maybe she'd buy herself some female trappings and set her cap for a man. The hankerin’ to settle down had been growing in her. She never expected to have a big place like Jake did, but the idea to have a small spread of her own and some young ‘uns to tend seemed better and better. She glanced around again. The prickling at the back of her neck increased. Something niggling at her told her she wouldn't be seeing Colorado this winter or any winter. She should have listened to her first instinct and stayed home. The pouch slung around her neck and Jake's cattle weren't worth her life. Dying in the wilderness hadn't been in her plans. Cassidy glanced around again. Her heart skipped several beats and sweat beaded on her forehead under her hatband. Riders were swooping down from the foothills. Their whooping told her she'd found the renegade Apache. She leaned forward, close to Storm's neck. She loosened her hold on the reins and clicked her tongue at him. “Give it all you got, boy, or you're gonna end up an Indian pony." The animal's shoulder muscles moved beneath her arms as he stretched out his legs. She gauged the distance to the first rock-covered hill that would offer her sanctuary and wondered if Storm could run full out that far. She slid her rifle from its scabbard. Cradling it in the bend of her arm, she held it ready. A small distance seemed to grow between her and her pursuers. She urged Storm on. Out of nowhere, another group of riders appeared. They must have come from behind the slight rise to the west. They were close enough she could see the paint smeared across their faces. An arrow whizzed past her head. She fired her rifle and saw one of the riders sway on his mount. Dust swirled up around the Apache, obscuring her view. She fired again. Another arrow whizzed past her. “Come on, Storm. You can outrun any Indian pony. You're the best." As she fired again, she held her breath. The carving on the stock of the rifle dug into her fingers as she tried to reload. The screams of the Indians swirled around her and the picture of the last time she'd seen her mother flashed through her mind—an Apache with a knife at her mother's throat. Cassidy sucked in a long breath, steadying herself and clearing her mind. Clinging to Storm with her knees, she took careful aim at the Apache rider closest to her. After she fired, he tumbled backwards from his mount. The rest rode on, closing the gap between her and them as they cut in at an angle. She pressed herself as flat to the horse as possible. Storm snorted at her, smelling her fear, and extended himself as though running from the devil. The distance to the rocky outcrop didn't appear to lessen. A coldness filled her. Would she die out here, alone? Would Jake think she'd stolen his gold?

Shifting slightly in the saddle, she fired at the Apache closest to her. “Damn,” she muttered under her breath as the man never wavered. One last bullet remained in the chamber. She wouldn't be able to reload without giving them too clear a target at which to shoot. If she could only make the rocks. She looked at her goal. The rocks stood too far away. A devil wind appeared not far in front of her, swirling the dirt into an enormous cloud. If she rode through it, would the Indians follow her? If she got caught in the wind, neither she nor Storm would be able to breath and he would falter. This wind grew to a proportion which she'd never before seen. It became a giant wind sucking in everything around it. She had to swerve away from it, which put the rocks farther from her. Drawing a deep breath, she tried to calm her heart and concentrate on Storm's movement, becoming one with the animal. Carefully she aimed her rifle and fired. This time she could hear the man's scream as he tumbled sideways from his mount. A fiery pain shot through her back. An arrow. She couldn't draw in a breath. Her chest hurt. It had to have buried deep into her back. She started to sway and grabbed Storm's mane. “Don't let them mistreat you,” she said to the gray horse. Sadness swept over her. Now she would never have a family. She'd never settle down. The regrets at all she'd miss in life welled up in her. She didn't want to die, but she knew she would. It hurt to breathe and when she did, pain, not air, filled her lungs. Storm swerved back toward the wind. “No, Storm,” she whispered, unable to find enough strength to change his course. “No. You can't go into the wind." The wind and dirt whipped around her. She couldn't breathe. She started sliding from the saddle and couldn't hold on any longer. “Damn you, Jake. May you rot in hell for this." The ground knocked the rest of her breath away. The pain in her back raced through her as though someone had lit her afire. Her head hit a rock and she screamed—a scream lost in the wind and the pain. CHAPTER 2 Arizona, present day Jesse White Feather sat with one ankle resting on his knee and his hat propped on the other. He stared at the pale young woman in the hospital bed, wondering who she was and how she'd come to have an Apache arrow in her back. An Apache arrow, obviously hand-crafted, with his family mark on it. He sighed, wishing she'd awaken and give him some answers. She'd laid there for three days now, barely showing signs of life. Even though the hospital monitors would sound should she stop breathing, he checked every few moments to make sure the sheet covering her still rose and fell. Leaning back, he crossed his arms over his chest. The doctors had said they'd call him the moment she awakened, but he'd still spent most of the last three days by her bedside. She wasn't an average Jane Doe. He'd never seen clothes like hers, except in pictures. The rifle and side arm she carried had been crafted in the 1800s, yet they looked new, as did the gold pieces in the leather pouch found hanging around her neck. Yet not one of the coins had been minted after 1884. On top of that, she had no wallet or any ID. She couldn't be a victim of a mugging. A robber would have taken the coins. They were worth a fortune and she'd had more money tucked into the pocket of her shirt. Five hundred dollars in paper money. All of it printed in the 1800s.

He had to unravel the puzzle. It would nag at him until he did. Especially the arrow. His mind kept coming back to it. He'd never seen one more finally crafted. His grandfather crafted arrows from time to time, but his arthritis-ridden hands no longer did the job they had when he was young. When he'd shown the arrow to his grandfather, the old man had turned it over and over in his hands, examining it carefully. His only comment had been he hadn't seen any like it since his grandfather had made arrows. Indian uprisings didn't happen anymore. Not in his territory. Not attacking a lone woman. From the back. What a woman. Her long auburn hair spread out across her pillow like a wave. It had been tightly braided and wound about her head, hidden beneath a crushed Stetson, when they'd found her. He wanted to know what color eyes her closed lids would reveal. He wanted her to awaken and tell him what had happened. Did she know how lucky she was? If the hikers hadn't stumbled across her body, the doctor said she would have died. The arrow had nicked her lung and with the internal bleeding, she wouldn't have lasted long. The doctor stated the attack couldn't have taken place more than ten to fifteen minutes before they found her. Why hadn't the hikers seen her attacker or heard something? Damn. Why didn't she wake up? “Sheriff White Feather, you really need to go home.” A nurse handed him a cup of coffee, one of about a hundred he'd drunk in the last three days. The blonde nurse smiled at him before going to check on the patient's IVs. “It won't do you any good to sit and wait. She'll wake up when she wakes up. Between the head injury and the internal injuries, she lucky she's still breathing. Her body's in shock." “She'll wake up, won't she?” Jesse took a sip of his coffee. “The doctor thinks so.” The nurse pressed her fingers against the woman's wrist and looked at her watch. Tucking the patient's arm back beneath the covers, she turned and looked at Jesse. “He's not sure why she hasn't. So all any of us can do is wait.” She walked toward the door. “You look terrible and should go home, Sheriff." “Thanks for the coffee.” Jesse raised his cup in salute. **** Cassidy floated somewhere between heaven and earth. She must be dead. The pain had dissipated. That could only mean she had died. Warm fingers pressed against her wrist. A warm blanket covered her. Soft voices swirled around her, but she couldn't tell what they were saying. She was so very tired. All she wanted to do was sleep. If she heard voices and felt a hand against her wrist, then she had to be alive, and if she was alive, why? The Apache should have dispatched her, unless ... Unless they'd realized she was a woman. Did they have something worse than death in mind? Or were they going to heal her just to torture her. She opened her eyes a slit and peeked at her surroundings. A woman dressed in a pink flowered shirt and matching trousers walked by the end of her bed, where a man sat in a chair. An Apache man with long black hair pulled back, but not dressed like any Indian she'd ever seen. He wore jeans and a flannel shirt. His Stetson rested on his knee and he wore black cowboy boots with silver tips on the toes. His hands looked powerful against his crossed arms.

He shifted his head from looking at the woman in pink back towards the bed. Cassidy shut her eyes. She didn't know who he was, but she didn't wish to draw his attention. A bed. Through the fog that encased her brain dawned the thought she lay in a bed, not an Apache camp. A bed with a metal footboard. A bed with clean, white sheets and a soft, blue blanket. The wall behind the man was painted a muted blue and a picture of flowers hung on it. The room smelled clean. Cleaner than anything she remembered. The fog grew thicker and she couldn't make her eyes open to take a peek at the man again. Maybe she had dreamed he was Apache. Hadn't the pink woman called him sheriff? An Apache couldn't be a sheriff. Maybe she was dead. Nothing she saw made sense. If she were still alive, she was too tired to figure on it. She let the fog fill her brain and floated back to the place between heaven and earth. **** Jesse stretched out his legs and flipped open the newspaper, folding it back to read the inside page. If the strange woman didn't awaken soon, he'd have to give up his vigil and return to Apache Creek. It might be small, with little work for the sheriff, but he still couldn't ignore his town much longer. The doctor couldn't give him a definitive answer as to when or if she'd awaken. He couldn't even tell Jesse why she remained comatose. The doctor saw no physical reason for her condition. After folding the paper in half, Jesse perused the page. He glanced over the top of the pages at the still form lying in the bed. Her eyelashes appeared to flutter. Dropping the paper on the floor, he stood over her bed and examined her face. Deep blue eyes stared at him with a blank look. “Miss.” He leaned close. “Miss, you awake?" She blinked at him. He pressed the button for the nurse. “Miss, I'm Sheriff White Feather. I need to ask you some questions." She blinked her eyes several times, then closed them. “Miss. Please. Look at me." Her eyes fluttered open again. She opened her mouth then closed it. She ran her tongue across her bottom lip and swallowed. “Where am I?” came in a soft, hoarse voice that seemed to reach up and caress the side of his face. “In the hospital, miss. You were shot with an..." “Apache arrow.” She nodded. She glanced around the room and reminded Jesse of a caged animal looking for a way to escape. “Hospital? Where?" “Mesa." She closed her eyes and raised her hand to her forehead. “You're going to be fine, miss. The doctor said you'd be as good as new with some rest. Please, open your eyes.” The door behind him opened. “She's awake. Sort of." He wanted to reach out and brush the hair back from her face, but something told him she would react like a caged animal. She looked so small and defenseless in the big bed.

The nurse bent over the woman from the other side. “Miss, can you open your eyes for me?" The woman opened one eye and peeked out from under her arm. “I don't remember any hospital in Mesa.” Her voice had a hostile tone to it. “You hit your head pretty hard. Can you tell me your name?” the nurse asked. The woman laid her arm back on the bed and stared at the nurse for a long moment, then turned to stare at Jesse. “You're an Apache.” She spit the word at him, drawing out the “A” in a long sound and swallowing the “E” on the end. Jesse stepped back. Pure hatred had flowed out with the word. Clutching his hands into fists, he forced himself not to reach for the knife in his boot as he had the first day of school in Mesa when he was ten and the other boys had used that tone. She was but a small bit of a woman and he a grown man, capable of containing his ire. No longer did he let his reaction to the prejudice boil over within him. “I'm Jesse White Feather. I'm the sheriff of Apache Creek." “No.” She shook her head and turned back to the nurse. “Go away.” She closed her eyes. “Now, miss, we need to find out who you are and who your insurance carrier is." As the nurse reached out and touched the woman's arm, she slapped away the nurse's hand. “Don't touch me.” It came almost as a growl, each word emphasized. The nurse huffed. “I need to check on your bandages and I need some answers.” The nurse reached for the woman again. Jesse grabbed the nurse's hand. “This can wait until later. Obviously she's still under the influence of the pain medication. Give her time to get her bearings. She has been asleep for nearly four days." **** “Four days?” Cassidy scrunched up the blanket beneath her fingers. Something wasn't right. If this was heaven, she didn't want to be here. It could be a hallucination caused by the pain from the arrow. Except she felt no pain. She should. She looked at the hands clasped above her. The woman withdrew and stomped out of the room. The Apache who said he was the sheriff looked down at her. His black eyes bore into her soul. She felt no fear of him. She saw no hatred for her in his eyes. Something tickled her nose and she reached up and pulled away a cord of some type. Air came from it and blew across her face as she tried to disentangle the cord from her head. He reached out to her. “You should really leave that on until the doctor comes in to see you. It'll help you breathe easier. The arrow nicked your lung." Yanking the cord free, she pushed it to the side of the bed. Its faint hissing reminded her of a snake and made her skin crawl. “Get it away from me." The Apache pulled the cord and looped it over a strange machine behind her head. “You're sure you can breathe okay?" Cassidy stared at him. Not understanding what the strange cord was, she knew she didn't want it on her, whether she could breathe or not. She pushed herself to a sitting position and grabbed the side of the bed

as her head spun violently. For a moment she thought she would be sick. “Maybe you'd better lie back down.” The Apache's hand hung from his sides, his hands clenching and unclenching into fists as though he couldn't decide what to do with them. “No.” Where was she? Nothing she saw made sense. “Then let me adjust the bed so you can lean against the back.” He reached for a box laying on the sheet and pushed a button. The back of the bed rose. She yanked the cord away from him and scooted toward the foot of the bed. The world dipped and swayed and she curled into a ball. The humming noise had stopped when she grabbed the box from him and so had the bed. Beds didn't fold up like this one had started to do. It must be hallucinations. The Apache had caught her and given her some strange medicine which made her see things. They had plants that could make them see things that weren't there. She probably sat on a bed of animal furs and the rest she'd dreamed. Like the dreams in the place between heaven and earth. A small ache started in her back from her movement and a pain shot up her arm. She feared to look up in case the world shifted again and she would vomit. Never would she give her captors the pleasure of seeing her sick. “Miss, are you okay?" “Get away from me.” She snarled at him. She wanted a drink of water. Her throat resembled the desert in the middle of summer, but she'd never give the damn Indian the pleasure of begging him for water. She wanted her knife. Opening her eyes, she peeked around the room for a weapon to defend herself against him. He'd never have her. Never. If she couldn't fend him off, she'd kill herself before she allowed him to take her body. The door banged and she jumped. Taking slow, deep breaths, she tried to calm herself. Indians didn't have doors that banged, so where had they taken her? Some ghost town. No one would look for her in an abandoned town. Oh, hell. No one would look for her at all. Jake would always wonder if he'd sent her to her death or if she'd taken the gold and disappeared—though he ought to know better. Cassidy had never been a thief. Just stupid to let him talk her into this journey. Dying because of a bunch of cows. She couldn't think of anything more ridiculous. She wasn't dead yet. She couldn't be. The pain in her arm told her differently. If she were still alive, she had a chance of getting away. She needed to clear her head and make the strange pictures disappear. Then she'd find Storm and her rifle. When nightfall came, she'd find a way to sneak out of wherever they held her. The strange Apache dressed in white man's clothing had said they were in Mesa. She knew that to be untrue. No Apache would ride into Mesa. The town couldn't be too far away. She would light out for there. The town would offer her safety. Then she'd wire Jake and let him know what happened. “Oh, gracious.” A female voice floated around her. “Miss, you can't be thrashing about. You've pulled your IV loose." “She's freaking out.” The Apache's voice answered the woman. “You must've given her too much morphine or she's having one nasty reaction to it."

“Give her a sedative.” Another male voice spoke next to the bed, and hands grabbed her. She clawed at the hands. Doubling up her fist, she swung, grazing the side of the man's face. She kicked out, her foot colliding with the nurse's arm, sending the needle she held skittering across the floor. “Leave her alone,” the Apache ordered. “You're frightening her." She tried to wrench her arms free as the man forced her down. Trying to reach his arm with her teeth, she twisted against him. They wouldn't get her. She'd never give into them. Her leg stung. The edges of the world darkened. “Noooo,” she screamed. **** Cassidy's eyelids shot open and she looked around. The dream world hadn't disappeared. Neither had the Apache calling himself Jesse. He sat in the chair staring at her with those black eyes. She'd never seen such black eyes. They reminded her of the blackness that had swallowed her. Staring into them, she feared they would swallow her also. “I see you're awake again. Feeling better?” He stood and walked to the side of the bed, resting his hands on the bars that framed it. She stared at him. She was caged in the bed. Something was not right with this world. Studying his face and eyes, she found kindness there. She didn't trust him, but maybe she could use him to escape. “Want a drink?” He picked up a yellow glass with a straw and held it to her mouth. She took a sip, the cold water soothing her raw throat. “Not too much. It'll make you sick.” He smiled. Cassidy tried to move her arms. Straps held her to the bed. Taking several deep breaths, she swallowed the scream building deep inside her. She forced her arms to relax and not struggle against the restraints, though every fiber in her body yelled for her to yank herself free. If she was to ever be shed of this place, she needed to convince him she had calmed down and he could untie the straps. If she could trick her guard, she had a chance of escape. After pulling his chair next to the bed, he lowered the bars from the side. “If you're feeling better, I'd like to ask a few questions." Cassidy nodded her head. “What's your name?" She opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Jesse held the glass for her again and she took a sip. Licking her lips, she tried to speak again. “Cassidy. Cassidy Howard.” Her voice came as a weak croak. “Can you tell me what happened?" A shiver ran through Cassidy. The Apache bearing down on her as she raced Storm through the desert and the arrow striking her back were vivid memories, but she didn't trust this man enough to tell him. Besides, he should know. Was he setting a trap? Seeing how much she remembered after they'd drugged her? She shook her head.

“Can we notify your family for you?” He brushed the hair from her face. His touch was gentle and warm. She trembled. “I don't have any living kin." “I'm sorry. Are you cold?” He pulled up the blanket and began to tuck it around her. “No,” she whispered. His touch made her warm. “You want to sit up?” He reached for the box on the side of her bed. Her voice finally found some volume. “No." “It'll be more comfortable.” He let the box drop. The idea of having the bed move beneath her unsettled her. She had no idea where she might be or what the strange things around her were, but she preferred to lie flat while she figured on it. “The straps.” She needed her hands free. When the need arose, and it would, she wanted to be able to defend herself. He looked at her for a long moment, those black eyes studying her. “The doctor felt it better. He feared you'd hurt yourself, but you seem much calmer now. I'll take them off if you promise not to get upset." Cassidy nodded. To get those straps off her arms, she'd promise to walk through hell. His skin brushed against hers as he removed the restraints. A strange, prickly feeling surrounded the area where his fingers rested and spread in a rippling effect. She wanted to rub her arm. She wanted him to touch her again so the prickly feeling would continue. Jesse sat and leaned his elbows on the side of the bed. “Well, Cassidy Howard, are you going to tell me how you ended up with an arrow in your back?" Carefully, she pushed herself upward. The room tilted, then righted itself. She tucked her feet beneath her and sat upright in the middle of the bed. If she could keep the world even, she'd be able to escape when a chance presented itself. “You'd really be more comfortable if you'd let me raise the bed so you can recline." Cassidy whipped her head to the side to watch his hand. Grabbing the blanket, she wadded it in her fist trying to regain her balance. “I can sit on my own." Shrugging his shoulders, he leaned back in the chair. She tried to turn herself in the bed to face him, but something pulled at her arm. Examining it, she saw a cord taped to her skin. If she were in a hospital, it certainly had some strange practices. She picked at the tape. “You'd better leave that alone. The doctor isn't going to like it if you remove your IV. The nurse will do it when the doctor okays it.” He crossed his legs the way he had been sitting the first time she'd seen him. She studied the tape, then left it alone. She couldn't fathom what an IV was, but for the moment, she had bigger problems with which to deal. “Can I leave here?" Jesse nodded his head. “If you want. After all you've been through, you'd probably better let the doctor make sure you're okay first."

She'd never cottoned much to doctors. Once, one had set her broken leg when she'd been thrown from Storm. He'd poured some whiskey down her throat and had two grown men hold her while he set the bone. The pain had nearly made her swoon. The only pleasure she'd gotten from the experience had been vomiting the whiskey all over the doctor. Then he'd had the nerve to charge her four bits for the experience. “I feel well enough to be on my way." “You still haven't told me what you remember from the incident." Cassidy measured him again. Even though he was Apache, he spoke as though he'd been educated in a white man's school. He wore no war paint, nor did he seem the least bit nervous dealing with the white women who had come into the room. Not many would allow an Apache around their women. She had to tell him something, though, or, she had the gut reaction, he'd never let her go. Then Apache never let their prisoners go. They played with them like a cat with a mouse. If she were smart, she could turn her situation and become the cat. She hadn't survived this long without being cagey. “I was heading for Sonora." “Then your car must be parked somewhere near where they found you." Blinking, she looked at him. Car? She opened her mouth to ask, but decided it would be best if she didn't show her ignorance. “What make was your automobile? I'll have my deputy go get it for you.” He lowered his feet and leaned closer. Automobile. She'd heard about Ford's horseless carriages, but she'd never seen one. Didn't know anyone who had. “I was on horseback.” Cassidy wondered what it would be like to loosen his hair from its leather tie and feel the texture of it against her skin. What an odd thought. She shook her head, then grabbed the bed to steady herself, wishing the unsteadiness would disappear. She'd never stay on Storm's back with the world constantly tilting. Jesse's eyes widened. “Horseback? Clear out here. That's a long way to ride." “'Bout three days on a fast horse. You don't happen to know where my horse got to, do you?” She'd miss Storm. The Apache probably had him and they wouldn't want to return him. “No one saw a horse. Just you, lying in the dirt." “Oh. My belongings?" “Your clothes—or what's left of them—are in the closet. The rest, the coins and your firearms, are locked away where no one can steal them." Cassidy would have to find them before she left the Apache camp. Maybe the white woman who had come in would want to leave also. “What happened to the rest of my clothes?" “The doctor cut off your shirt to get at the arrow." The doctor? Why would a doctor be with the Apache? Why would Jesse be with the whites? Tiredness swamped her and she wanted to lie down and have it all go away. No matter how she figured it, wherever she was made no sense. She fought down the fear that threatened to further cloud her mind. If she were to get out of this situation, she had to control her senses. “Makes sense. I needed a new shirt anyway. That one had seen a good bit of use.” She looked down at the nightshirt she wore. At least she thought it must be a nightshirt, but the

back kept trying to fall open and, without the blanket tucked around her legs, the sheriff would have been gazing at a might bit more of her flesh than any man had ever seen. A cool breeze caressed her back, but as long as he stayed in front of her, it didn't much matter. The door swung open and a woman dressed in the same strange garb as the last, only in a blue shirt and pants this time, walked into the room. Cassidy was the only woman she knew who wore pants, but all the women in this hospital seemed to. It truly was a puzzle. “Well, I see you've awakened again.” A frown creased her face and she put her hands on her hips. “Sheriff White Feather, you shouldn't have released her restraints. She might injure herself or others." “She's perfectly calm now. I told you it was a reaction to the pain medication. You gave her too much." Cassidy looked at Jesse. He'd defended her from the sour woman. Why? That was a question that would be worth pursuing. “Humph. We never give more than necessary.” The blue-clad woman walked around the bed. Cassidy gripped the back of her nightshirt and tried to hold it together. The cord taped to her arm pulled tighter. “Don't you fret, young lady.” The woman reached for Cassidy's arm. “I've seen many a backside in my time. Now you need to scoot back where you belong in bed. If you wish to sit up, I'll raise the back for you." “I've already tried that. She doesn't want it up." “Nonsense.” The woman reached across the bed for the box with the buttons. Cassidy grabbed her hand. “No." The woman yanked her hand from Cassidy. “Well, I never. Such manners.” She turned to another box mounted on a pole and pushed some buttons. “I need to change the bag and check your arm, miss. You'll have to lie down. If your back is bothering you, I can prop you on your side." “My back is fine.” Cassidy glared at the woman as she scooted away from her on the bed. She didn't like these women who kept coming in and fussing at her. “Now, miss, don't make me get the doctor again." Cassidy drew in a deep breath and a dull ache started in her chest. Pushing the pain aside, she shifted so she could keep an eye on the blue woman. “You stay away from me." “I told you she was dangerous.” The woman glared at Jesse. “You've removed the restraints and she'll be more difficult to deal with. The attendants should be here shortly and we'll move her up to the psych ward for observation." “You're the one who's getting her upset.” Jesse rose from his chair and walked around the bed. “Whatever you need to do can wait a while. We were having a quiet conversation until you barged in.” He straightened and glowered down at the woman. “Before she's moved, I want to speak to the doctor." “The doctor was the one who ordered her moved.” The woman glared back at Jesse. “So? She's still the victim of a violent crime and I need to find out what she knows before someone else is hurt. You can change her bandage later and fuss with the IV then. In the meantime, out.” His fists

tightened and relaxed at his sides again. “Please send in the doctor." “He's not in the hospital at the moment. We don't expect him back until tomorrow morning." “Then call him." “You have no authority here, Sheriff White Feather. None." “Here might not be my jurisdiction, but she was found in mine, and believe me, lady, I know enough cops around here to enforce my wishes." “Well, I never. I have a patient to tend and you'll have to remove yourself or I'll call security. They'll help me refasten those restraints." Jesse's voice boomed off the walls as he pointed to the door. “Out!" The woman stomped across the room. “I'll be back with security. You can bet on that Mr. High-and-Mighty Sheriff. We'll see who rules in this hospital.” She slammed the door behind her. Jesse leaned against the bed, his face suffused with red. If Cassidy didn't know better, she'd have believed she saw steam coming from his ears. Suddenly she wanted to laugh and she couldn't hold it in. It started as a low gurgle and grew deep inside her, until it exploded from her and filled the room. CHAPTER 3 Jesse watched Cassidy as her whole body shook with laughter. “I don't see what's so funny. I've ticked off that nurse big time, and believe you me, she isn't going to forget it.” The smile that lit Cassidy's face set fire to his soul. He'd never seen a woman more beautiful or whom he wanted to protect as much as he did her. Though he wasn't quite sure why. The nurse would be back with security in a heartbeat and they'd take Cassidy away to the psych ward. But she wasn't crazy. He didn't know why he knew that, but he did. He still believed her actions were a reaction to the pain killers. He'd seen doped up people freak. Most of them had done it to themselves. “She'll be back in a few minutes.” Jesse smiled in spite of himself. “With reinforcements." “Then what'll she do?” Cassidy looked at him with her big, blue eyes. They seemed to ask, What will you do? “Lock you away." “For what?” Cassidy put her hand against her chest and took in a slow breath. “Are you okay?" She nodded. “The laughing made my chest and back hurt." “That's because your wound hasn't healed yet." She studied his face. “What're they going to lock me up for? I haven't committed a crime." Jesse crossed his arms. He wanted to take her into them and hug her, but that was silly. She was a woman lost and didn't need him pawing her. “The way you were acting earlier. They think you're crazy and dangerous."

She appeared thoughtful for a moment, her eyebrows drawn together and her lips pursed. “Then I'd best be shed of this place." “You're hooked up to the IV and I'm not sure you're in any condition to travel.” Once they got her upstairs, he'd have a hell of a time getting her released. His stomach twisted at the thought. They were supposed to release her after seventy-two hours of observation, but something about the nurse's attitude didn't bode well. Cassidy looked at her arm. “Can't be too hard to unhook. It's just a tube taped to my arm.” She pulled at the tape. “It's more than that. There's a very tiny tube in your vein." She glanced up at him, her eyes growing wide. “How odd.” She shrugged. “I'm not taking it with me, so it'll have to come out." “Only the nurse can do that." She examined the IV as though she'd never seen one before. “Naw. Can't be that difficult.” She took hold of the end of the catheter and drew it out, gritting her teeth. Blood spurted from her arm as the IV came loose. Jesse grabbed the sheet and pressed a wadded section to Cassidy's arm. “Hold this while I look for a Band-aid." She smiled up at him, her face pale and drawn. “Easy as spitting. What am I going to wear?" Jesse pressed a Band-aid on her arm. “You have to keep on the hospital gown and tuck it into your pants, but you can borrow my jacket." Cassidy nodded and slid from the bed, holding her gown closed behind her. “Turn around.” She wagged her finger in a circle. He heard the closet door bang as he stared out the window. He clenched and unclenched his hands as the seconds ticked by. “You ready?" “Can't get my boots on." He turned. She sat in a heap on the floor. “Still dizzy?" “A little." He lifted her to the bed. She weighed hardly anything. “Stick out your foot and push.” After the boots were on, he wrapped his jacket around her. “Aren't they going to be upset about my stealing the nightshirt?” She gripped his arm. Her touch sent a rush of heat through him and he pulled her into the circle of his arm. He had to keep her from falling. He had to know what it would be like to hold her. “They'll add it to your bill." “Suppose doctors do like to get paid. How are they going to know where to send it?” She leaned into him. His blood pumped faster. “Never fear, they'll contact me about your insurance."

“I don't have any insurance.” She looked into his eyes. “That's a problem for another day.” He opened the door and peeked around the edge. At the far end of the corridor, the nurse talked with two security guards. “They're on their way." “Maybe we should go out the window." He looked at her. “We're on the sixth floor." “Didn't know Mesa had any buildings over two stories.” She held onto his arm. “We make a run for it." “We saunter out like we don't have a care in the world.” He plopped his hat on her head and opened the door. **** Cassidy leaned against Jesse, not trusting her legs to carry her. The tiny room they'd entered with buttons that lighted up still perplexed her. Her stomach had dropped and she had to grab the handrail to keep from falling, but when the doors opened, by themselves, the corridor looked the same. She couldn't comprehend why they'd wasted time going into it. Jesse moved her along the hallway and outside. Sitting on a horse would take all her strength, but she'd done it under worse conditions. Her back only had a small ache in it, but breathing caused her chest to hurt. It didn't matter. She would sit a horse. She wanted out of this hospital. “Do you have a wagon?” Traveling by wagon would be much easier. “A truck." A truck would be better than an open wagon. It would be enclosed and she could lie down without people seeing her. Maybe he'd even have hay in the back or something soft on which to rest. Jesse pushed open the door. She stopped in her tracks and stared. The wind blew against her face and she was thankful to be outside again. But ... Large, multi-colored vehicles moved about, plus rows of the same objects, not powered by horses, stood in an unenclosed area. On the street, more of the strange vehicles raced by at great speed. Cassidy swayed and grabbed Jesse's arm. The world appeared out of kilter. Women walked about in trousers and skirts that showed their legs like there was nothing unusual or wanton about being dressed in such a manner. It couldn't be the medicine. She could never dream such things. They did not exist in her imagination. Something had gone terribly wrong with the world. She needed to figure on it, but first, she needed to be shed of this hospital before she became a prisoner within its walls. Though she didn't completely trust Jesse, she had no choice but to go with him, until she had a chance to escape him also and find Storm. Once she got her bearings and figured out where this strange place was. Her stomach flipped and coldness settled on her. She glanced over her shoulder at the giant glass doors and saw the blue lady with several men coming down the hallway toward the outside. “Come on. They know we're gone by now and will come after us." “Yes. But...” But what? She hadn't the faintest notion of what to ask him as she stared at the strange

world around her, Jesse pulled the door open on one of the strange vehicles. “Hop aboard." Cassidy examined the shiny red finish and ran her hand across the warm metal. The inside had seats made of something that resembled leather, but when she touched them, she knew they weren't. She shrugged her shoulders. No horses were in sight, so this had to be a horseless carriage. She raised a foot to hoist herself up, but wobbled. Jesse's strong hands around her waist lifted her onto the seat. “Let me help you with the seat belt.” Jesse fastened a strap around her. His long hair brushed against her cheek and smelled of the outdoors. It was a fragrance she wanted to breathe in, to fill her lungs. She wanted to cleanse the antiseptic smell of the hospital from her, as well as the strange odors the outside air held. As he leaned against her briefly, she wanted to touch his face and his hair. The strong muscles that had rested beneath her fingers as they had walked had sent tiny shocks into her. Would touching his face bring the same reaction? The caress of his hair made every nerve fire and she found it harder to breath. She glanced away. She couldn't let her reaction to him make her forget he was her enemy. An enemy who held her weapons and Jake's gold. She needed to remain wary of him until she retrieved her belongings. Then she'd be gone faster than a streak of lightning. Back to where she'd come from. Wherever that might be. Maybe if she just closed her eyes, when she opened them the strange world would disappear and her world would return. “Let me lean back the seat. You'll be more comfortable." A creaking sound came from the side of her seat and suddenly she went backwards. She grabbed his arm and a squeak escaped her. “Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you.” He shut the door and bounded around the truck. Climbing in, he shoved a key into a slot and turned. A roaring sound came from the front of the vehicle. Cassidy gasped as the truck lurched backwards, then suddenly went forward. They sped by houses. Jesse stopped the vehicle as a light on a pole turned red. When it turned green, he made the truck go forward again. She closed her eyes. She'd ridden Storm at top speed, but the scenery hadn't flashed by as fast as it did when Jesse turned onto a long, open road. The countryside resembled what she had ridden through, except for the ribbon of a road crossing it. Poles and wires ran along side the road. The telegraph must have been strung in this area. She wondered how she'd missed that event. But this wasn't her world. The desert resembled hers, but nothing else. She must be dead, trapped in a hell where she had to spend eternity with her enemy. That didn't seem right. Ma had always told her she'd be reunited with those she loved when she died— Ezekiel, Ma, Pa. Had she been so bad since Ma and Pa died that she'd never see them again? She'd never done anything that terrible. Only what she must to survive. She didn't feel dead.

So where in hell was she? And how did she get back? Her nerves jangled and her vision spun. Fear crept in with the coldness. Fear like she hadn't known since that big cowhand had her cornered in an alley when she was fourteen and pawed at her. Opening her eyes a crack, she peeked out again. Maybe the strangeness had vanished. Instead they seemed to be flying. Jesse turned a button and soft music flooded the enclosed area of the truck. The music was soothing and she closed her eyes to block out the world. The truck jerked, and Cassidy grabbed for the handle on the door. She blinked several times. The scenery hadn't changed much. She must have only had her eyes closed a second. “You're awake.” Jesse smiled at her. “Feeling better?" “I'm not sure. Was I asleep?" “About an hour." “How far are we going?” She tried to sit up, but the speed of the truck forced her back down. “If you want the seat back up, pull the handle on the side. We've got another hour before we get to my home. You hungry?" Cassidy groped along the side until she found a lever and pulled. The seat dropped back flat. Jesse's laughter floated around her. “Sit up, then pull on the lever." Cassidy settled in the seat and looked about her. Other vehicles similar to the one they rode in whizzed by them. She wanted to know where she was. This was not her Arizona. Of that she was positive. But where it was, she couldn't tell and she didn't know what questions to ask. Jesse turned down the music. “You hungry?" “Where does the music come from?” She stared at the box with the knobs. “Huh?” He glanced over at her, a strange look on his face. She shrugged. She'd seen a phonograph. Jake owned one and was mighty proud of it. But it had to be wound and took up a great deal more space than the small box at the front of Jesse's truck. “I'm a little hungry." “I know a coffee shop a little ways ahead where we can stop. You haven't eaten anything for days, but some soup should be okay." “That would be nice.” She shifted in her seat. The pain seemed to increase with time. “I'll get you some aspirin while we're there. You going to be okay?” His brows furrowed together. “I'll be fine. I just need to rest.” Rest would make everything fine again. A soft bed would be a wonderful thing about now. Some food would help alleviate the shakes that kept threatening her. Something to drink would be heavenly. Her mouth felt like the desert ground. As though reading her mind, he handed her a can. “Have a drink? It's not diet, so it should get some

sugar into your system and make you feel a little better." She took the can and sipped from the hole in the top of it. It bubbled in her mouth like nothing she'd ever before drunk. The bubbles went up her nose and tickled. Looking at the side, she read the word Pepsi. Whatever Pepsi might be, it tasted heavenly. Better than sarsaparilla. She took another sip and swirled the bubbles in her mouth, then let it slide down her throat. “You act like you've never had a Pepsi before." She could see him watching her out of the corner of his eye. “Can't rightly say as I have.” She took another sip, then peered into the top of the can. Leaning her head back, she sighed. She couldn't see what the delicious liquid looked like. She lifted it and drained out the rest. Licking her lips, she held the can to her ear and shook it. Definitely empty. She sighed. Jesse's laugh caressed her again. “I don't have another one, but I'll get you one when we stop." “That would be very nice.” She smiled, clutching the cool can to her. It seemed real enough, and hell couldn't have anything so wonderful in it. “Did that make you feel any better?" Cassidy nodded. “I think so.” She looked out at the countryside whizzing by the truck. Her stomach churned. “You sure you're okay? Maybe it was a mistake to take you out of the hospital. As soon as I get you to my place, I'm calling the doctor." “It could never be a mistake to leave that place. I wouldn't be happy locked up when I hadn't committed a crime.” She closed her eyes to try to get her stomach to stop swirling. “I'd rather be outside anyhow. I'm not much for being locked within walls." “Still, you're looking a little green. I've got a bottle of water if that'll help.” Jesse's voice sounded anxious. “I'm fine. Really.” She leaned her head against the glass. It was cool and for a moment, her stomach settled. Then the truck hit a bump and her stomach jumped. She gripped the handle of the door. “I'm going to be sick.” She yanked on the strap holding her to the seat. The truck screeched to a stop and hands lifted her from the truck seat. She bent down and vomited into the dirt. Jesse held her so she didn't fall. A shrub brush grew near by and she wanted to crawl into it and disappear. How could she have been sick in front of this man? Never in her life had she cared what type of an impression she made on a man. More than once she'd been sick from too much whiskey, but she'd never cared who saw her. But this man. In this strange place. She wanted him to see her as a lady, not as a freak who could out drink and out shoot most men. She didn't know why it was important for him to see her as what she wasn't, especially since he was an Apache, but it was. Just this once, she wanted a man to look at her and see something other than buckskin. He lifted her and set her on the end of the truck. Lifting her head, he washed her face with a rag, then held a bottle of water to her mouth. “Just a sip to rinse your mouth." She spat the water on the ground. It doesn't matter, she told herself. Nothing mattered except finding

Storm and getting Jake's gold to Sonora. Right after getting back to her world. This man wouldn't care if she rode out of his life. Probably be glad of it. Tears welled up in her eyes. She blinked furiously. Cassidy Howard didn't cry. Cassandra Howard had cried. For months she'd cried after her parents had been brutally murdered. She'd cried from loneliness and hunger. Fear had plagued her and tears had not chased it away. Then Cassidy Howard had been born, and Cassidy Howard never cried. Not from pain or fear or hunger. Not when she was alone. Not in the darkness of night. Not under attack by Apache. Not when the world changed. She wouldn't cry now because she'd been sick in front of this man who was Apache and her enemy. She cared what this man thought, even though she didn't want it to matter. He picked her up and cradled her in his arms. No one had held her since the night her parents had died. No one. She'd learned to keep people away. Over the years, Jake was the only person she'd ever gotten close to and even with him, not too close. It hurt too much when the people she loved left her life. In this wild Arizona territory, life was so hard many people didn't survive. She had because she'd learned to rely on herself. His arms around her made her feel safe, but something else also. A strange feeling of heat and lightning swept through her A feeling she couldn't identify, but wanted to explore more. She nestled her head against his shoulder and let him stroke the side of her face, brushing her hair back. Calmness swept over her, followed by an energy, a wanting. She wanted him to touch her more. She wanted to touch him. She didn't know how. Once she'd seen a man walking down the street in Phoenix. She'd wanted to know the man. She'd been drawn to him. Whiskey had taken away the desire. She wondered if a good belt would do the same with the strange sensations running through her body caused by Jesse's arms around her. It must be the pain and the confusion. Nothing had been right since she'd awakened in that strange hospital with the nasty nurse and the gorgeous Apache sheriff. Damn, you Jake. This is all your fault. She let Jesse hold her for several minutes before she looked into his face. She read worry and concern in his dark eyes, but not shock or horror at her actions. She sighed and snuggled closer. The warmth of his arms took away the chill and the queasiness. The world didn't seem quite so out of kilter. “I'm feeling better." “Maybe we'd better not stop for food. If the pain's not too bad, we'll be at my place in under an hour. I'll have Doc look at you and make you some soup myself.” His hand brushed against her cheek leaving a warm, sensitive spot. She nodded against his chest, the soft flannel of his shirt warm against her skin. “I don't feel much like sitting in a restaurant. Besides, I'm dressed rather strangely." He laughed. “I'll get you some decent clothing once I've gotten you settled." “I don't want to be a burden. I can afford a new shirt.” She pressed her fingers against his arm, needing to draw from his strength. “You talk of taking me to your place. It wouldn't be right for me to stay with you. I'm sure there must be a boarding house or hotel about." He pushed her upright so he could look into her face. “I won't make any advances, if that's your concern. I'm just keeping you in protective custody until I can sort out what happened to you." She smiled at the frown that crossed his face. “I didn't think you would try to make advances. If I had, I

wouldn't have left the hospital with you. I don't wish to be a burden on you or anyone else. If you return my money and gold, I can buy myself new clothes and a horse. Then I can deliver Jake's gold like I was hired to do.” She had no wish to leave him, but Jake's gold had to be taken to Sonora and she was already four days late. Jake would be steaming mad. Rodriguez had probably already threatened to sell the cattle and land to someone else. Cassidy knew it would be an idle threat. No one would pay the price Jake would. If Rodriguez and the cattle were still there. Jesse gave her a quick hug. “You won't be a burden. Until I know what happened to you, I'm keeping you close. I don't want anything else to happen in my jurisdiction." She nodded. “So it's purely business." “Yep." She looked into his eyes. They belied his statement. She snuggled against him and let him carry her to the seat and strap her in. She leaned back and closed her eyes. Suddenly pain and exhaustion swept through her. She couldn't figure what had happened or what to do. Sleep would make things clearer. **** Jesse parked in his driveway and leaned against the seat for a moment to stretch his neck and back. His strange passenger had slept fitfully since he'd placed her in the seat, but she looked too pale for his liking. He'd been told more than once in his life that his impulsiveness would get him into trouble. This time he feared it had. If this woman died because of his rash action of removing her from the hospital too soon, he might not be able to talk his way out of the situation. Not even with his connections. Besides, he'd never forgive himself. She was the most curious woman he'd ever met, but when he'd held her in his lap, she'd sparked reactions he'd kept in control for years. He wanted to hold her again, and kiss her. He looked over at her as her eyelids fluttered open. “We're home." She smiled at him weakly. He lifted her from the truck. Her head nestled against his shoulder. He couldn't believe such a bit of a thing could have been riding through the desert and managed to get shot, with an arrow of all things. “Down, Black Jack,” he ordered his dog, which looked more wolf than dog. “I can't pet you now.” The dog sniffed Cassidy's leg, then fell in beside Jesse. “'Bout time you got back.” David Graham opened the door for him. “These animals have been driving me crazy. They don't much like it when you're not home at night. I don't think they ever sleep when you're not here. They just prowl around." “Thanks, David, for watching things. I didn't think I'd be gone so long. Anything else need tending to?” He carried Cassidy to the couch and laid her down. “Who's this? Probably the woman the hospital has been calling about. They're real ticked with you, stealing her away. They say she's crazy." “Stop talking about her like she's part of the furniture.” Jesse sat down on the couch next to Cassidy and laid his hand on her forehead. She didn't feel abnormally warm. She opened her eyes. “She's not crazy.

She's the victim here.” He patted Black Jack's head. The dog looked at Cassidy, then laid down on the floor beside her. “David, this is Cassidy.” He nodded his head toward David. “He's my oldest friend." “He means he's known me longer than anyone else, not that I'm the oldest person he knows.” David smiled and plopped down in a chair across from them. Cassidy smiled wanly. “I understood.” She tried to sit up, but sank back into the cushions. A large orange cat jumped up beside her and pushed against her cheek with his head. “Get down, Tigger.” Jesse picked up the cat and scratched his ears before placing him on the floor. “I'll make you some soup. I'm sure I have some chicken noodle in the cupboard." “Could I have another Pepsi?” She stared at the lamp on the table at the end of the couch. “Sure. But drink it real slow." Jesse went into the kitchen and rummaged through the cupboards. In the back he found a can of soup and heated it in the microwave. Placing it on the wooden coffee table in front of the couch, he hunkered down by Cassidy. “It'll probably be easier if you sit up and feed yourself." David smiled. “Soup'll make you feel better.” He seemed to be watching her every move. She maneuvered her legs over and sat up, holding onto his arm for balance. “I can manage." Jesse sat next to her, holding a napkin in his hand. “Eat slowly. If you feel sick, let me know." “Stop fussing. I'll be fine.” She took a spoonful of soup. “I'm going to call Doc Rothmore and see if he'll come over.” Jesse picked up the cordless phone next to the lamp. Cassidy stared at him, the spoon halfway to her mouth. “What's that?" “What? Something in the soup?” Jesse looked down. Noodles floated in a yellow broth. It looked normal to him. He turned on the phone and dialed. Cassidy sat with the spoon poised before her mouth. “Eat. You'll feel better.” He hoped she would. Her skin had an unhealthy pallor to it that made him nervous. “Is this the woman with the arrow in her back?” David swung one leg over the arm of the leather recliner and stared at Cassidy. Jesse nodded and waited as the phone rang. “Pick up, damn it." “He might be out at the Res. Someone could be sick.” David stared at Cassidy. Cassidy let her spoon fall back into the soup. “You're calling an Indian doctor?" “He's not Native American if that's what you mean.” A dark look flashed across David's face. “He just goes out to the reservation and treats people in need. Not many people want to." “I can understand why. It's dangerous.” Cassidy's eyes grew wider. David laughed. “Not unless you run off the road. But the pay stinks. Most people can't pay him much, but he doesn't seem to mind."

“That's because he cares for people.” Jesse didn't like David staring at Cassidy as though she were a treat he was about to devour. “Oh, hello, Doc.” He hung the phone up after a short conversation. “He'll be here in about twenty minutes." “I don't know as I trust a doctor who treats Indians, especially Apache.” Cassidy looked at her soup. Jesse studied her face for a moment. He couldn't fathom this woman. One minute she snuggled against his shoulder making him feel like a teenager lusting after his first love, and the next she acted like his tribe was the scourge of the west and she hated them all. He'd never understood women, but this one was worse than most. She stared at his lamp and phone like she'd never seen such objects. He remembered the look on her face when she'd drunk his Pepsi. She was a strange one. But the look on David's face bothered him more. He'd known David since the fifth grade when Jesse's family had moved from the reservation and he'd started school in Mesa. David's family had never lived on the reservation, but that hadn't stopped them from becoming a team. Too many of the other children hadn't liked Native Americans. Both he and David had learned to fight, to defend themselves. Over the years, they'd become fast friends. “You can go home now.” Jesse popped the top on the Pepsi and handed it to Cassidy, his fingers brushing against hers. He held the can for a moment, to make sure she had a good hold on it. “I'm not in a hurry. I want to find out what's been happening. The hospital in Mesa sounded pretty hot. They weren't pleased about you absconding with the mystery lady.” David stretched out his legs. “I'd figured we'd go get some dinner when you got back." “I can't leave Cassidy here alone." “Then we'll order pizza, and I'll stay and visit." Jesse looked at David for a moment, then shrugged. No sense in causing a scene because he'd gotten his hackles up over the way David looked at Cassidy. She was a victim and he had to protect her. That was all there was to it. “Okay." “You find out where she got all those gold coins?” David continued to watch Cassidy. Cassidy took a sip of soup and set her spoon down. “I was delivering them for a friend, if it's any of your business.” She glared at David. David held up both hands, palms toward her. “Whoa, lady. I didn't mean to ruffle any feathers. Just asking a question. Most people don't go around with that much money in rare coins on them." She looked at David, then at Jesse. Her brow furled, then she shrugged her shoulders. “Don't know what's so rare about twenty-dollar gold pieces. I've spent a few in my lifetime.” She took another spoonful of soup, then laid back on the couch. Black Jack lifted his head to look at her then settled back on the floor. Tigger curled up on the back of the couch, his paw hanging down to rest on the top of her head. Jesse smiled as he looked at David, whose jaw had fallen open. She acted as though having a fortune in gold coins was nothing. David acted as though he'd been struck by lightning. David fumbled with the newspaper on the table next to him. “You made the headlines.” He held up the paper. “Mysterious woman shot with Indian arrow,” Jesse read. “Let me see that. I don't need a bunch of

curiosity seekers showing up and causing trouble.” He took the paper. Cassidy reached out. “Let me see. I've never been in the newspaper before.” She stared at the paper for several seconds. “September fifteenth, two thousand and...” Her voice trailed off. The little color she had drained from her face. Jesse grabbed her hand. “What's wrong?" She pulled her hand away and pointed at the paper. “The date.” She put her finger beneath the printing. “The date." “You were asleep for four days." She looked at him with wide eyes, terror shining in them. “You don't understand." “What don't I understand?” He looked where she pointed. “Is this really the date?” Her voice shook, along with her body. “Yes." She shook her head back and forth. “No. No. It can't be." “They were right,” said David. “She needs to be locked up." “Shut up,” snapped Jesse. He didn't know if she would faint or start screaming from the look on her face. Cassidy's hands crumpled up the paper and she stared at him. “It can't be." CHAPTER 4 Cassidy looked up into the night sky. The soft night wind ruffled the edges of Jesse's shirt that she wore, tickling her legs just above her knees. Black Jack leaned against her leg and Tigger rubbed against her ankles, causing her unsteady legs to threaten to send her sprawling to the ground. She widened her stance to steady herself. The sky looked the same. It hadn't changed. Not since the last time she'd looked at it, while she'd been on the trail. The Little Dipper still hung from the North Star. Nothing had changed, except the night wasn't as dark. On the horizon, an orange glow competed with the moonlight—lights from the town dispersing the darkness. She turned, nudging the cat aside. The terrain had changed drastically. She hadn't been far from here when the Apache had caught her, but nothing looked familiar. Jesse didn't have any neighbors close enough to see, but they were just down the road. She shook. Maybe from the cold or the tiredness that invaded her body. Her back hurt where the arrow had struck her. Jesse had given her some white pills and said they'd take away the pain, but she'd hidden them. The pain was real—the only thing that was real. Where was she? The thought curled through her mind and made the trembling worse. It couldn't be the twenty-first century. That was not possible. But ... but could Jesse have created this to confuse her? He might be Apache, but this went way beyond hallucinations caused by the pain or the peyote he'd given her. Nothing seemed right, so she could get a handle on what was happening. Long ago she'd learned to

always know the odds in any situation she entered, whether a range war or a poker game. But here, she felt like she'd had a whole bottle of whiskey and her head wouldn't clear. Maybe if she went back to sleep, she'd wake up back in the desert with Storm. If she did that, she'd have the Apache after her again and that part of this escapade she wouldn't relish repeating. But staying here and now? She didn't understand half of the items Jesse used, which he seemed to take as for granted as she did a kerosene lamp. Maybe if she walked into the desert she'd find something familiar, something to make her world stand upright again instead of tilted. A light came on in the house. She patted Black Jack, staring at the light. She walked away from it. She wanted to find the night—the dark night of her world. “Cassidy,” Jesse called to her. “What are you doing out here?" She watched him descend the porch steps. The moon gleamed off his bare chest and twinkled against his silver belt buckle. “You'll catch cold as sick as you already are. You're supposed to be sleeping." “I couldn't sleep.” Cassidy crossed her arms and hugged herself. Jesse walked over and stood next to her. “So why are you outside? It's much warmer in the house." She couldn't tell him she was trying to figure out where she was and what had happened. She didn't believe she'd somehow stepped from her time to his. How would he ever believe her? “I was looking for the necessary." “The what?” He put his arm around her shoulder and tried to herd her back toward the house. His arm radiated warmth and helped to steady her. The trembling subsided. She looked into his face. He smiled at her. “The necessary ... outhouse." “I'm not so far out in the country I don't have indoor plumbing. You used it earlier.” His face creased into a frown. “How many of those pills did you take?" “None.” She caught her foot on Tigger and plunged forward. **** Jesse scooped her up. “Git, you stupid pest.” Tigger ran up to sit on the porch and wash his paw. “Are you sure? You seem a little spacey.” He hoped she wasn't having an adverse reaction to the pills the doctor had given her. Her body, cradled against his, seemed too warm, feverish. She needed to be in a hospital. “I can walk.” She laid her head against his shoulder. “Maybe, but I'll make sure you get inside safely.” He kicked open the door. A knot formed in his stomach. Doc had said she'd be all right, but he wasn't sure.. Setting her on the couch, he knelt before her. “How do you feel?" She shrugged her shoulders. “My back hurts." He placed a hand against her forehead. “You're awfully warm. Did you take any of the pills?"

She shook her head slowly. “Don't know what they are." “They're to make you feel better.” Her blue eyes seemed clouded. By fever or pain? God, why had he taken her from the hospital? She needed care, but not psychiatric care. He knew that for a certainty. He didn't know how he knew that, but he did. He picked up the bottles and read the labels. Pouring an antibiotic into his hand, he shoved it into Cassidy's mouth. Handing her a glass of water, he said firmly, “Drink." She held the pill between her lips for a moment, then took the glass and swallowed. “How do I know this isn't a trick? All the things I'm seeing could be caused by these pills." Jesse studied her face for a moment, then took out a pain pill. “I don't know what you're seeing, but you need the medicine. Doc wouldn't have left it otherwise. If you don't take the pills, I'll have to take you back to the hospital. I won't have you dying on my couch." Her long hair had become tangled around her neck and face. He smoothed it back. It felt like fine silk against his fingers. Suddenly, he wanted to bury his face in it. How had this slip of a wounded white woman become so desirable? He'd met more women in his time than he could remember. Many had come buzzing around him. He always suspected his long, black hair and Apache blood had attracted them. They looked for a thrill. A thrill of which he wanted no part. But this auburn-haired creature who'd arrived in buckskins with an arrow in her back had somehow touched something within him. Something he hadn't even known existed. Cassidy took the pill from his hand and swallowed it. “I won't go back to the hospital. I'd rather die first." “Why?" “They wanted to lock me up." “I could take you to a different hospital." “No.” She clenched her hands in her lap. He studied her. Again she resembled a caged animal. “You have nothing to fear. No one here will hurt you." She stared into his eyes for a long time. “I can only hope not. For the moment I...” She waved her hands in the air. “I have no where to go.” A sigh racked her body. “I'll work on finding out where you belong.” He took one of her hands in his and smoothed out the clenched fingers. “You concentrate on getting well. Deal?" She hesitated, then nodded her head. “Do you need to use the bathroom?" “No." Then what had she been doing outside the house. Trying to leave? She hadn't seemed to be doing more than star gazing. “Lay down. You need sleep." “My back hurts when I lay on it.” She tucked her feet under her.

“You can't sit up all night.” He grabbed the pillows. “Lay on your side and I'll prop you with these. That pill will help soon.” He propped her on her side so her back wasn't pressed against anything. Then he covered her and turned out the light. Back in his room, he sat on the side of his bed. It was almost two a.m. and he should get some sleep. He stood to remove his jeans. Grabbing the blanket from his bed, he walked on bare feet back to the living room and settled in the recliner. She might wake up before the night finished and be scared or disoriented. It would be better if he slept nearby where he'd hear her. **** Cassidy awoke to a dim light and rubbed her eyes. Her back hurt again. She shifted and stifled a groan as she did. Jesse had been right. The pills had stopped the pain. But it had come back with a vengeance. Slowly she pushed herself upright and stepped on Black Jack. “Move,” she hissed. She didn't want to awaken Jesse again. She could find those pills herself. Then she'd be able to think. “The pills are laid out on the table. Jesse said you were to take them the moment you woke up." Cassidy jumped, then groaned. She looked at the gray-haired man sitting in the recliner, studying her. He struck a match and lit a cigar. As he drew deeply on it, then exhaled, the smoke wafted around her. Suddenly she wished she had one. But the ones Jake had given her were in her saddlebags, along with everything else she owned. “I've been waiting for you to wake up so I could light this. Jesse said I wasn't to do anything to bother you. You needed rest.” The man, whose lined skin spoke of many summers in the sun, appeared to be close to eighty. His dark eyes—eyes that reminded her of Jesse—sparkled. “Where is Jesse?” She gathered up the pills. “He went off to work. He'll be back shortly and fix us lunch, if you're hungry.” He drew in on his cigar again. Food didn't appeal to her. She wanted to go back to sleep, but her mouth was as dry as the desert. “I'd like a Pepsi." The man pushed down on the end of the chair and rose. Even at his age, he stood erect, nearly as tall as Jesse. His gray hair was pulled back and tied in a ponytail. “Jesse always has some in the fridge. I'll get you one." “Thank you.” She nodded at him and watched him stride across the floor. His stature belied his age. Then again, maybe he wasn't as old as she thought. He handed her a cold can, sat back in the chair and pushed back, raising the foot. He took a long drink from the can he held and smacked his lips. He seemed to enjoy all his creature comforts. “What are you drinking?" “Root beer." She sipped at her Pepsi. “Is it different than this?" He held the can out to her. “Take a drink and see." She sipped from the offered can and handed it back. “That's very good, too.” She lay back on the couch

and tried to get comfortable. Glancing around the room, she stared at all the unfamiliar items. There were so many things that she didn't know what they did—items she couldn't have dreamed up no matter what the Apache had given her. Hallucinations were one thing, but this had gone beyond that point. But she couldn't believe that somehow she'd stepped into the twenty-first century. That alone rated in the category of hallucination. She closed her eyes to block out the world around her and bring a picture of her world to mind. She could see Jake's face. He sat behind his desk, a cigar hanging from his mouth while he worked on papers. A glass of whiskey sat next to him. He sipped it every once in a while. Jake. What had happened to Jake's cattle and land deal if she'd ended up in the future with the gold? He had to be mighty sore about now and wondering if he'd misplaced his trust in her. Wondering if he'd sent her to her death and feeling a pang of guilt. Jake would feel a pang of guilt. He loved her in his own way. Almost like a father. He'd been the only family she'd had since her parents had been killed. She worked for him sometimes, but even when she wasn't working for him, she could go home to Jake. Just to visit. If she had a problem. Jake always welcomed her. She shifted again, the pain in her back easing some. Could she go back to her time? What would she find if she did? Would the Apache still be swooping down on her? Would it be certain death to return, or had enough time passed she'd find the Apache gone? And Storm? The desert wouldn't be any kinder to her than the Apache. Without Storm, she'd never make it to Sonora. She'd never make it to the nearest town, which had to be at least thirty miles straight across hell. Or was she trapped herein the future? Here where she didn't understand anything. How was she to make a living? How was she to survive? “You going back to sleep?” the old man asked. “No. Thinking." “About what happened to you.” The gray-haired man nodded his head. “Takes a powerful lot of thinking to sort through a happening like that one." Cassidy swung her legs over the edge of the couch and sat. She leaned her head in her hands. “It surely does.” She stared into the almost black eyes and wished she could tell him her story. She looked away. No one would believe her. The old man lit his cigar again and puffed away for several seconds. “Long ago when I was a little boy, my grandfather told me a story.” He paused and looked into her eyes. “It was a strange story, filled with wonder and magic. The best kind of story. A legend really. A family legend about my great-grandfather." Cassidy couldn't help but smile at the old man's ramblings. At least a story would keep her mind off her own troubles. Until she was stronger, she couldn't ride out anyway. Not that she had anything to ride. “Summer had come. Limping Hawk and his small band were tired of being forced to stay on the reservation. The game was scarce and the water low. They decided they wanted to go to Sonora. Other Apache lived there and life was better without the restrictions of the U.S. government. “So they left the reservation and headed south across the desert. They didn't have much time before the

Bluecoats would come looking for them. The government was doing its best to keep the Apache contained in one spot so they couldn't cause trouble." “They caused a lot of trouble.” Cassidy clasped her hand over her mouth. Lord, she'd just insulted the man who was an Apache, even if he were as old as the hills, and she was a prisoner of the Apache. It had to be the pills Jesse insisted she take. They made her unmindful of her mouth. The old man smiled. “Yes, they did. My great-grandfather did his best. The white man had taken the land they'd hunted and penned them in like animals. The women and children didn't have enough to eat and many died. The men were taken away so they couldn't continue the fight.” He nodded his head. “Yep. They fought for what was theirs." Cassidy looked at him for a long moment. “They killed my parents.” She tried to grab the words back. The man would think her loony. She had a strong feeling the Apache didn't hunt the white man in this century. He frowned. “I'm sorry about that, child, but a time of war existed, and the white men killed many Apache families.” He patted her hand. A soft sigh slipped from Cassidy. “Anyway, that's not a story I can tell. Later, you can tell it to me, but for now I'll finish about my great-grandfather.” He took a sip of his root beer. “He and his group were riding across the desert. They'd traveled for three days and hadn't seen anyone. They were mostly worried about the Bluecoats. Then...” He struck a match, puffing on his cigar. Cassidy leaned forward a bit. “And..." “Oh, yes.” He smiled at her, a twinkle in his eyes. “Then they saw a lone rider. The rider was a long way in the distance, so they followed him for a while. He seemed to be heading the same direction they were. But one lone rider wasn't anything to worry about. No one would deliberately take on the eight of them. Besides, they weren't sure he was a white man. Could've been another Apache riding across the desert. “They followed him all that day and half the next.” He shifted in the chair and stretched out his legs. “Surely he'd have seen them.” Cassidy had been looking over her shoulder the whole time. The Apache couldn't have trailed her for a day-and-a-half without her seeing them. The man obviously hadn't been paying much attention. “They rode like ghosts.” The old man smiled. Cassidy laughed. “Fat chance. Why'd they follow him so long?" “They weren't in a hurry. They could catch him whenever they wanted. On the second day, they gained on him. The horse interested Limping Hawk. He was a big, strong gray who ran like the wind. The man was nothing." Cassidy gasped. Storm. No. This story was about someone else. She would have seen the Apache trailing her. She'd been looking for them. “So they took the guy's horse." “You're jumping ahead in the story.” He brushed at the front of his pants where an ash had fallen. “Who is telling this story?"

“I'm sorry.” She smiled at him. “I figured that had to be the end." “It's not the end that's always important. Often times it's the telling.” He brushed back a strand of hair and settled back in the reclining chair. “They closed the gap between them and the rider. Then the man noticed them. That gray took off like lightning. Limping Hawk thought they might lose the horse. He'd never seen one faster. He and his men were able to cut crosswise and gain on the rider. Boy, was my great-grandfather surprised when he discovered the rider wasn't a man." Cassidy took in a slow deep breath. The world spun and she laid back on the couch. The old man couldn't be telling a story about her. It wasn't possible. But then nothing that had happened was possible. The old man puffed on his cigar and stared straight ahead. He seemed to be lost in thought, maybe hearing his grandfather's voice telling the story by a campfire. Maybe falling asleep. “And,” she prompted. He laughed. “Now you want me to finish when you know the ending and could tell it yourself." “You're the storyteller.” Her stomach did a flip, and for a moment, she thought she might be ill. She wanted to sit up, but her head would spin and she'd only slump to the side. None of this was happening. The Apaches had given her something. Soon they would torture her. Or maybe Grandpa wanted a wife or a mistress or a slave or whatever a white woman would be good for. The whole thing was preposterous. She couldn't decide whether to giggle, or cry, or shut her eyes and ears and block out everything. Block out all the craziness until she recovered and could deal with it. Or until it was gone. “Very well then.” The old man paused, but Cassidy refused to look at him. “My great-grandfather was shocked to discover a woman rode the big gray. A woman alone in the desert was strange enough, but a woman capable of handling a horse like that was unbelievable to my grandfather." “Then they should've let her go.” Cassidy hadn't been bothering them. They didn't have to shoot her and steal her horse. “My great-grandfather had a mighty hankering for that animal. Besides, what did a woman need it for?” A small laugh punctuated his statement. “She needed him to ride. The desert ain't a place to be on foot." “That be the truth.” He laughed again, seeming to enjoy telling her his story. “Anyway, the woman bolted. She was a pretty good shot with a rifle also. She killed two of his men that day. Just plucked them right off their horses. My great-grandfather was most impressed with her, for a woman." “Good enough reason to let her go.” Cassidy picked up her Pepsi. Maybe it would make her stomach feel better. “They started the fight. She was only trying to get to Sonora, like them." “That was probably so, but my grandfather would have that horse. The woman meant nothing to him. If he caught her, he'd have taken her along as a prisoner. Probably sold her in Sonora. He didn't have use for a white woman." “I'm glad he didn't catch her.” Cassidy pulled herself to a sitting position. The anger she'd felt toward the Apache that day came rushing back. She'd known the risk when she'd taken Jake's gold. But to kill her for her horse. To kill her because she was merely a woman. That wasn't fair. She was glad she'd shot two of them. She wished she'd gotten the old man's great-grandfather.

“It wouldn't have been a pleasant life for her if they had.” He winked at Cassidy. “But I'm straying from the story. My grandfather had nearly caught up with her when a devil wind blew up. A devil wind the likes of which he'd never seen before or after. It seemed to suck up the desert and pull everything toward it." Cassidy remembered the wind and trying to steer Storm around it. She'd seen many twisters in her time, but never like that one. “The woman tried to pull the horse around the wind. My great-grandfather didn't want them going through it and he managed to lodge an arrow in her back." Cassidy shifted uncomfortably. She remembered the pain, then the wind, then nothing until the bright lights of the hospital. “But the woman couldn't seem to keep the gray from going into that wind." “Storm had a mind of his own,” she whispered. “He wouldn't go where I wanted." “My great-grandfather reined in as he watched the woman ride into the wind. He wasn't going to follow her. He figured with that arrow in her back, she'd fall and the horse would stop. Limping Hawk chose to wait for the wind to move on.” The old man shifted in his chair again and closed his eyes. “Don't you go to sleep." “I'm thinking." “Finish the story." He laughed. “You don't know the rest, do you?" “How could I? It's only a story, but a fine one. What happened to the woman and the horse?” She hoped they'd found the woman dead on the other side of the devil wind, but, in her heart, she knew they hadn't. “The horse only ran a few feet beyond the devil wind and stopped. Without his rider, he didn't seem in any hurry to go on. Limping Hawk had no trouble catching him. That was the easy part. Limping Hawk tried to ride him. First with the saddle, then bareback. That ornery horse never let anyone on his back. Not to the day he died." “Of course not. He never let anyone but me ride him.” Cassidy kept her voice low. Good for Storm. T he Apache wanted him, but they never could use him. “But he made a fine stud. That horse sired more offspring than they could keep count of. All of them as ornery as him. Fact is, Jesse has one out back now. Looks a great deal like the original, and just as mean.” The old man finished his root beer and set the empty can on the table. Cassidy held her breath. “What happened to the woman?" “You can finish that part of the story better than I can.” He smiled a sly smile. “I don't know what you're talking about." “My great-grandfather hunted for the woman in the area where the devil wind had been once it died down. He figured she was buried beneath the sand. But he never found her. No body. No woman. She disappeared with the devil wind."

“That's not possible.” It could be. The devil wind could pick her up and put her a few feet away. Maybe that she'd believe. But to deposit her over a hundred years in the future? No. That wasn't possible. “Anything is possible.” He closed the bottom of the chair. “Limping Hawk never found the woman. He believed the devil wind swallowed her. That's the magic of the story.” He reached beside the chair. “And this.” He pulled out a gray Stetson and set it on his lap. “And this. Limping Hawk kept the saddle bags and what he found. Normally he'd have left them in the desert, but he believed they held great magic if the woman could disappear in the devil wind. He passed the belongings down to his son and so on." Cassidy looked at the hat. Attached to the front was a large, silver conch ornately carved. From where she sat, she could see the initials CH etched, one on each side of the slit she'd used to attach the silver conch to her saddle bags. The conch she'd bought one day when she'd been flush and wanted something fancy, but not female fancy. Her hand reached out to touch the familiar silver. CHAPTER 5 Jesse entered his living room, his arms full of packages. “Hi.” He walked forward and stopped. Cassidy stared at something on his grandfather's lap as if she saw a ghost. “Hi, grandson.” Tall Trees took a sip of his root beer. “We've been waiting for you. I'm getting right hungry and am ready for that lunch you promised me." “In a minute, Grandfather.” Jesse dropped the packages on the end of the couch. “You okay, Cassidy?” He followed her look. His grandfather held his hat. A hat Jesse had seen hundreds of times. He looked back at Cassidy, who still stared at the hat. He sat on the couch next to her. “Are you all right?” He touched her shoulder. She looked up at him, her face pale, her eyes unseeing. “Grandfather, what have you been up to?” He glared at his grandfather. “Now, grandson, don't be blaming me.” Tall Trees’ smile was one with which Jesse was all too familiar. A smile that told him the sly, old devil had been up to something, but he'd never know what. Grandfather only told when it suited his purpose and that seldom happened. “She woke up, so I was entertaining her." “How?" “With a story. One I heard when I was a tyke. Nothing more." “What kind of a story? You've sca ... unsettled her." Tall Trees looked at Cassidy. “A story of magic. A story for her. A story to help settle her.” He lit his cigar and puffed on it. Jesse sighed. Grandfather and his stories. He always seemed to have one for every contingency. “Grandafther, don't be smoking those things around Cassidy. She's sick enough.” He hated it when his grandfather lit a cigar in the house. The place would smell foul for days, but he also found it hard to say no to the old man. At eighty-five, he wasn't going to change his ways. Jesse really didn't see any reason he should, but the smell was noxious.

“She didn't seem to mind none. I asked her permission before I lit it the first time.” Tall Trees held the match to the end of the cigar. “I don't mind.” Cassidy shifted next to Jesse and sat up straighter. “In fact, I'd like one myself." Tall Trees laughed and pulled one from his red flannel shirt pocket. Jesse gasped. “You want a cigar?" She leaned against him. “What is wrong with that?" “One, they're disgusting. Two, they stink. Three, they're bad for your health. Four, you're sick and having enough trouble breathing without a damn cigar.” She really wouldn't smoke one of those things, would she? Women didn't smoke great, huge, smelly cigars. Cassidy laughed. “Disgusting is an opinion. At the moment, a nice cigar seems comforting." “A strange thing to find comfort in.” Jesse looked at his grandfather. “Put that thing away. It'll probably kill her. Put yours out. If you want to smoke, do it outside. At least until Cassidy is well." Tall Trees laughed again and winked at Cassidy. He slid the cigar back into his pocket, took one last puff on his and placed it in the ashtray. Jesse groaned. “You're supposed to be sitting with Cassidy to make sure she has what she needs." Tall Trees looked at Cassidy. “He scolds me like a child. He forgets how many seasons I have seen.” Turning back to Jesse, he said, “I took care of her. I got her a Pepsi. I told her a story. What else was I supposed to do while we waited for you and our lunch?" “I had to check in at the office.” Jesse grabbed the bags next to him. “Also, I thought Cassidy would like some clothes of her own.” He handed the bags to her. “I wasn't positive of your size, but Charlene took a guess. I can take back anything that doesn't fit. I got you a couple of nightgowns, a pair of jeans and some T-shirts. Of course, I got undergarments, but ... well, but ... some sizes I couldn't begin to guess.” His face turned red. He'd never before had to go shopping for women's things. Cassidy opened one of the bags. She pulled out a pair of pink, lace bikini underpants and held them up, turning them around to examine both sides. “What is this?" Jesse grabbed them and pushed them back into the bag. “That's underwear. What do you think it is?" Cassidy retrieved it from the bag. “Underwear. For what part of the body? It doesn't have enough material to cover anything.” She looked from the panties to Jesse. “Looks more like a hanky with holes in it." Tall Trees bellowed out a laugh that filled the room. Jesse gave his grandfather a “hush” look which only increased the laughter. “They're panties. Charlene said you'd like them." Cassidy shrugged her shoulders. “Don't seem to be enough to them to be useful. Now a pair of long johns covers up and keeps the body from chafing. Plus they keep a body warm. This little scrap of material won't do any of that.” She dropped them on the couch and reached into the bag again. “Now Levis are useful.” She smiled and rubbed her hands along the material. “I had me a pair once. Wore them

for a long time. When they finally wore out, I didn't have the money for a new pair, so made me a pair of buckskins, but I dearly loved those Levis." She flipped them out and studied them. Her hand ran down the zipper. “What is this and where are the buttons?" “These jeans don't have buttons.” Jesse studied her for a long moment. So many things seemed foreign to her. From where had this little bit of a woman come? More importantly, did she suffer from some type of amnesia that made her not recognize everyday things? “It's a zipper.” He took the pants. “You pull it up and down to open and close the fly." She watched then nodded. “Real fancy, ain't it?” She pulled a shirt from the sack and took the jeans. “I'd like to change.” She walked out of the room. “You want a shower? I'll get you clean towels,” Jesse called after her. “Not now.” She put a hand out to steady herself. “I'm a little tired." Jesse watched her disappear down the hall. She was a strange one, but he was pulled to her. He had to find out to whom the arrow belonged. He had to make sure she was safe. He wouldn't allow someone to go around his territory shooting women. He'd left the FBI because he was tired of working with psychos. He wouldn't tolerate one here. It was more than that. Every time he was around Cassidy, his blood heated up. She was such a tiny thing and seemed defenseless, but he knew better. She was as tough as rawhide and as stubborn as a mule, but beautiful, with hair like silk and soft curves that invaded a man's dreams. He wanted to hold her and kiss her. He couldn't remember the last time he'd wanted to hold a woman, but Cassidy was his guest. When she looked at him, sometimes he saw fear. Other times he saw anger or hatred. Then he'd seen softness, as though she studied him and tried to figure out what he was ... and he'd seen something else. He wasn't sure what, but it belied the other feelings as though she trusted him, but couldn't say why. “Ahem.” Tall Trees’ voice broke in on him. “Enough woolgathering. It's getting past noon and I still haven't had the lunch you promised me. I can't be lollygagging around here all day." Jesse smiled at his grandfather. “What do you have to do that's so important?" “Things.” Tall Trees played with his cigar. “Lots of things. Even at my age, things need to be done. At my age, I need to do them today. Tomorrow I might not be able to." “Oh, you'll have many more tomorrows.” Jesse stood. “You're too ornery to leave us yet.” He took his grandfather's hand and gave it a squeeze. “Besides, what would we do without your stories?” Jesse tried to look stern. Getting his grandfather to do anything other than what he wanted to do was next to impossible, but he needed to impress upon the old man how fragile Cassidy was. “I don't want you telling Cassidy anymore stories. She's had a really hard time." He sat on the edge of the coffee table. “I don't know the whole story. She won't tell me, but I don't want you upsetting her." Tall Trees touched Jesse's cheek with a wrinkled hand that belied his age with its strength. “The stories I tell have a purpose. Whatever upset is caused is minor to what has come before. You needn't worry about her."

“I want to hear the story later, Grandfather. I want to hear any other stories first." Tall Trees smiled. “You want a lot, young one. Because you are the sheriff does not mean you can tell an old man what to say. I believe the white men have a law as part of their constitution granting freedom of speech. I believe it applies to an old Indian as well as a young one." “You're impossible." “No, hungry.” The old man rose. “I am going to enjoy my cigar in your yard while I wait for my food." Tall Trees walked out the door. As the screen banged shut, Jesse sighed. He knew better than try to argue with his grandfather. He'd never won yet. He never would. He got up and went into the kitchen. **** Cassidy pulled the zipper up and down, up and down and up again. She smiled. Zippers sure made it easier to fasten clothing. She pulled the shirt over her head and looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. The material was cotton, that much she knew, but it felt different than anything she'd ever before worn. The softness caressed her fingertips. She could bury her face in it and almost believe it was a blanket. A bright living green color unlike anything that grew in the Arizona desert. She liked the color. It made her feel alive. The bag contained a red, a blue, and a tan shirt also, but the green reminded her of living and right now, she needed to hang onto that thought. Everything else was too crazy. She turned sideways and looked at the back of her Levis. The ones she'd owned before didn't fit nearly so well. She thought about tucking in her shirt. She always tucked in her shirt to keep the tails out of the way, but she wasn't sure it would be proper. Since she was fourteen, she'd worn breeches, but these breeches didn't leave anything to anyone's imagination. She let her shirt tail fall over her backside and headed back to the living room. Finding it empty, she went out on the porch. Black Jack followed her. Jesse's grandfather stood in the yard, puffing on his cigar. She walked quietly over to him. She liked the man, but being near him was unsettling. His story had been too close. He gave her a cigar and a book of matches. She bit off the end and lit the cigar. Suppressing a coughing fit, she drew gently on the cigar. It had been only a week ago she'd smoked with Jake. Poor Jake. “Ladies don't smoke cigars,” the old man said. “That's what Jake always says.” She stared out into the desert. Away from the buildings everything remained the same. “Jake a friend?" “Sort of." “Hum.” The old man nodded his head. “I don't even know your name." “Tall Trees. Stan. Grandfather. Take your pick.” The old man looked out across the desert where she'd been looking. “Grandfather."

“The desert never changes,” Tall Trees said. She nodded. “Never. It looks the same as the day I started for Sonora. Only all these buildings weren't here." “Takes a while to get so many buildings. I remember when few had been built." “I remember when there were none." “I suppose you do." She drew in on the cigar and let the smoke fill her mouth with the sweet taste of vanilla. Then she blew it out, watching the cloud fill the area around her. “Is your story true?" “My great-grandfather said so.” He continued to stare straight ahead. “The saddle bags. The ornaments. They say it is true." “How can it be true?” How could she have traveled into a place where she didn't belong? People didn't travel through time. They were born, grew old and died in years that followed one after another. They didn't suddenly jump over a hundred years ahead. They just didn't. “Many things cannot be explained. Some things we have to take on faith. It happens. Nothing we can do or say will change that.” Tall Trees looked at her. “With that fact you have to live." She sighed. “I know. I let my friend down." “You did not let your friend down. Your ride to Sonora was not supposed to be completed. Other wise Limping Hawk would have had you, your horse and your gold. Your friend would not have wanted that." “How did you know I transported gold?" “All the papers tell of the gold. What else would you be doing with it?" She nodded and puffed on her cigar. “You have to give up cigars. Maybe in your time you could smoke them, but now, Jesse will have apoplexy." She crooked one eyebrow at him. “He'll be having fits. Rant. Rave. Tell me what a bad influence I am.” Tall Trees laughed. “Besides, smoking isn't considered a proper thing to do anymore, and cigars are definitely gauche." “Women never smoked cigars. That's why I took them up. To give Jake apoplexy.” Cassidy could remember the look on Jake's face every time she took one from his humidor. He had disapproved strongly. “At the moment, it reminds me of home, and I need something to remind me of home.” She patted Black Jack's head. He made her feel more in touch with reality. “I know.” Tall Trees touched her shoulder. “In time, things won't seem so strange. Anytime you want to talk, have Jesse send for me. Or come to my home and visit." “I'll do that.” Tall Trees was the only one to whom she could talk. Only he understood and wouldn't think her crazy. “I'll give up the cigars after this one. For Jesse.” Yes, for Jesse. She wanted Jesse to respect her. She liked being close to the man in a way she'd never before experienced. He smelled clean—no stale smoke, liquor or sweat. Yet he was a strong man and a handsome man.

And an Apache. For some reason, she didn't care. Not at the moment. “He'll like that." Cassidy looked into Tall Trees’ eyes. They held secrets. Secrets he hadn't told her. Secrets he might tell her. “Can I go home?" Tall Trees looked at her for a long time, then shrugged. “Where is home, Cassandra Howard? When you know that, then you can go home." **** Jesse brushed Cesar's long black tail. Since Cassidy had come into his life a week earlier, he hadn't had much time to ride, but he still found it peaceful to come to the stables and groom the animals. He paid Rob, one of the neighbor kids, to make sure they were taken care of daily, but when he could, he came out and did it himself. Except for the big gray. When the damned animal was in the right mood, he let Jesse brush him. Rob wouldn't go near him. Grandfather had foisted the beast off on him when the animal was a year old. Actually, Jesse had been the only person the horse would let near him at all. He heard a noise behind him and turned to find Cassidy watching him, Black Jack at her side. She smiled. “I could help you with the horses." “No need. I have paid help." “Oh.” She shrugged. “I miss being around horses. Could we go for a ride?" He studied her face. She still looked a little pale. She'd placed one hand against the door as if steadying herself. “Are you sure you're up to it?" Cassidy nodded. “A short ride. Nothing too fast.” She laughed and the sound caressed his cheek. “I'd probably dump myself in the dirt if I tried anything fancy." “I've got a nice mare in the third stall. I'll saddle her for you when I'm finished with Cesar.” He'd take her up to the stream behind his property. The ride was only about half a mile. That shouldn't be too far. “I know a pretty place you might like to see." Cassidy strolled toward the third stall, the dog refusing to leave her. She rubbed the nose on the paint mare. “What's her name?" “Doba.” Jesse moved to the other side of Cesar so he could watch her. The horse nuzzled against Cassidy's hand. “She's sweet." “That's why I picked her. She won't throw you. Sometimes the others get to feeling their oats and don't always behave.” Jesse couldn't believe how good Cassidy looked in those jeans Charlene had picked out for her. They hugged her curves in ways her buckskin pants didn't. In a way that tempted a man's imagination.

She turned her head and her thick braid flipped up over her shoulder. “Who you got down here?" “The devil horse.” The stall between the mare and the gray was never used. The gray would try to kill any horse next to him, especially another male horse. Jesse only kept the animal to please his grandfather. When the old man died, he'd sell the beast. Grandfather kept saying the gray was a special horse, waiting for someone special. If that someone special didn't come in his lifetime, the gray had to be bred so the next gray horse could take up the watch. It had been so for more than a hundred years and would continue until the gray's spirit found whomever he looked for, and his spirit could rest. Jesse had given up believing Grandfather's stories a long time ago. He'd heard them all his life. Then he'd gone out into the world and seen the realities. The gray wasn't waiting for anyone special. He was just the orneriest horse ever born. “Watch out,” Jesse called to Cassidy as she stopped in front of the last stall. He heard the horse kick the wall. Black Jack barked, then snarled. “He's mean as they come." “Shush.” Cassidy put her hand on Black Jack's head. “Be quiet.” Black Jack sat by her feet. She whispered something he couldn't hear and then reached out her hand to the gray. Jesse moved across the barn toward her. The gray snorted and shook his head. Cassidy reached into her pocket and pulled something out. “Looky what I brought you.” She held her hand flat and eased it beneath the horse's mouth. The gray nibbled the carrot that lay on her hand. Jesse ran, but he knew the horse would have his teeth into her hand before he got there. He skidded to a stop next to Cassidy. The gray gently picked up the piece of carrot and chewed. She held out another and he took it. The horse turned his head for a moment and glared at Jesse in an all too familiar way, then went back to the carrots. “Maybe I should've tried that.” He'd never see the likes of it. Cassidy didn't look away from the horse. “Storm always liked carrots.” Her voice was tinged with sadness. “That was your horse?" “Yep.” She nodded. “Raised him up myself." “I'm sure we'll find him. I've contacted anyone who might run across him.” He'd had many horses over the years, but he remembered the one he had raised when he was seven. By the time he got the horse broke and could ride him, they'd moved to Mesa and his parents sold the horse. He'd missed that horse. There'd never been another one like him. “I doubt it." The gray finished his carrots, turned toward Jesse and snorted. A dusting of sticky half chewed carrot sprayed his face. “Damn horse.” He wiped at his face with his gray flannel shirt sleeve. Cassidy laughed. “Bad horse.” She rubbed the gray's nose and the horse shook his head from side to side. He also seemed to be laughing. She unhooked the gate. Jesse grabbed her hand. The gray reached for Jesse's hand, his ears flat to his

head and head lowered, ready to strike. Jesse jerked his hand back. Black Jack stood and bared his teeth in a silent growl. “It's better if you don't go in there. He's not in a mood to be bothered." Cassidy looked into Jesse's eyes. “He doesn't seem to like you.” Her brows furrowed and her mouth pursed. “Storm was always such a good judge of character. Maybe he thought you were going to hurt me." “This isn't your horse, Cassidy.” Maybe she was crazy. As far as his investigation had told him, no one was missing anyone from any psychiatric hospitals. Of course, with the medical care today, too many people were walking the streets who needed help. Cassidy didn't seem to be one of those lost souls, however, just in wonderment all the time. She said the strangest things and asked the strangest questions. Almost like she was a visitor and not an inhabitant of the time. “He likes me better than most. He even allows me to brush him once or twice a week. If he's in the mood for a run, he lets me know and we go for a ride. If he's in the mood. If he wants to laze around here, I don't even dare go near him.” He laid his hand on her shoulder. “Let's leave the devil to himself. He can wait to be brushed until another day." Cassidy pushed the gate open. “I want to ride him." Jesse reached for the gate to pull it closed. He kept his eyes on the gray. He couldn't let Cassidy get hurt, but he didn't want to tangle with the horse either. “You can't. He'll go full out and send you sprawling ... if he doesn't kill you first in the stall." Cassidy ducked under Jesse's arm and walked into the stall before he could stop her. Black Jack stood half in and half out of the stall, watching Cassidy intently, ready to spring. The gray sidestepped, aiming for her foot. She stepped away from him, scratched him behind the ear. “Been tried and it never worked,” she said softly to the horse. The horse shook his head, then nodded up and down and sidestepped again, pushing Cassidy toward the wooden slatted stall wall. She smacked him on the flank and he stopped. “Now, behave yourself." Jesse took off his hat and dusted it against his pants. The horse stood perfectly still while she ran her fingers over him. She worked some kind of magic on the beast. Of course, if she ran her fingers all over him, he'd stand perfectly still too. At least for a moment or two. He wiped his hands on his pants and tried to concentrate on Cassidy and the horse. “I'd feel much better if you'd come out here." She waved a hand at him in dismissal. “You really should let someone brush you every day. What a filthy horse you are.” The horse shook his head and bared his teeth as if answering her. She leaned her head against his flank and laughed. Cassidy turned to Jesse. “I want to ride this horse." “No. Absolutely not.” He was in enough trouble having kidnapped her. He'd been on the phone for hours extricating himself from the situation and explaining he had her in protective custody—for her own safety —until the perpetrator could be found. All he needed now was for her to get herself killed by that stupid gray horse. He'd be explaining that one forever. She slid out of the stall. “Then I'll get the saddle myself.” She walked across the barn, the dog at her heels.

Jesse let his head drop and shook it back and forth. The two were made for each other. They'd have their own way no matter what. “You're quite a pair." The gray nodded his head and curled his lip back in what Jesse figured was a smile. A sarcastic smile. Damn animal. Damn female. Cassidy reached for a saddle. “Don't you dare lift that. You'll hurt yourself." “I've saddled many a horse." Jesse found that difficult to believe, as tiny as she was. She seemed frail, but then appearances couldn't always be believed. “Yeah, but you weren't hurt. I'll get the saddle.” He walked toward her and grabbed it. “I won't be responsible for what happens once you're on the horse. When you break something, it'll be back to the hospital." “I won't break anything." “Hah!” He placed the saddle on top of the stall door and looked at the gray. He took in a deep breath. Hopefully, the animal was in the mood for a run. Jesse eased the gate open. The horse put his head down as if to charge. “Stop that.” Cassidy slipped around Jesse and slid the bit into the gray's mouth, pulling the bridle into place. “If you want me to ride, you have to let Jesse saddle you. I can't lift the damn thing because ... because I got hurt." The gray stood still while Jesse placed the saddle on his back, but Jesse could feel the animal staring at him. “There you are.” He looked at Cassidy. “I'd really rather you rode the mare.” Why was he giving into her? Was it the smile that had creased her face since she'd seen the gray? Or because for the first time since he'd met her, she'd seemed at ease? Or had he plain gone soft-headed ever since he'd met her. His actions seemed to confirm the latter. Cassidy grabbed the reins to lead the gray. Black Jack trotted beside the horse. “Thank you.” She smiled at Jesse. A smile as bright as the sun. A smile filled with joy. He knew why he'd given in to her. He'd give her anything that made her look that happy. He caught the movement of the gray out of the corner of his eye. “Watch out." The gray lowered his head and pushed Cassidy forward. Jesse grabbed her as she fell into his arms. She tried to right herself. Jesse pulled her closer, enjoying the smell of her and the softness of her hair against his chin. “Rotten horse,” she whispered against Jesse's chest. He lifted her chin and looked into her deep blue eyes. “I thought you liked the horse." “Oh, I do.” She giggled. “He can be a brat, like the one who sired him." “You've met his sire.” Jesse looked down at her mouth that turned into a slight pout. A mouth that begged to be kissed. She stared at him. He leaned his head down and captured her lips against his. He heard the horse snort behind them. Jesse could have sworn the beast was laughing. He didn't care. All he cared about was the taste of Cassidy.

She leaned into him and put her arms around his neck. He lifted her off her feet as he deepened the kiss. He traced his tongue along the line of her lips. She shivered against him. Pulling her tighter, he slipped his tongue between her lips as they parted. His hand slipped down and cradled her bottom. A cold, wet nose pushed against his hand and Jesse had to take a step backwards to keep from falling and dropping Cassidy. The stall wall pressed against his back and the nose against his hand. He sighed and broke the kiss. Looking over her head, he glared at the gray. “Okay. Okay. I got the message." “I told you he was a rotten horse.” She sighed into his chest. CHAPTER 6 David Graham slipped in the back door of the sheriff's office. One of the deputies would be answering calls up front and another patrolled the quiet streets. At two in the morning, no one else would be here. He used the copy of the key he'd filched from Jesse. He'd done it months ago for no particular reason but to see if he could take it, get it copied and back before Jesse missed it. Since Jesse almost never used the back door, it had been easy. Too easy. The safe was in Jesse's office and the gold was in the safe. That woman didn't need the money as badly as he did. Jesse would take care of her until he found her relatives, or proved she'd stolen the gold. She had to have stolen it. How else would a woman like that have something worth so much? David thought about what he could do with the money. He'd abandon his trailer and buy himself a house. His trailer wasn't worth anything. He'd get himself a big house like Jesse's, and a fancy car. Only not in Arizona. Once he had the gold, he'd leave. Well, not right away. Jesse was smart. Real smart. If he disappeared, Jesse would suspect him. Jesse would never rest until he found him and brought back both him and the gold. No, David could wait. Six months. A year. Until things cooled down. If he got rid of the woman, no one would care anymore. First he wanted the gold. He stopped and listened for Gary and could hear his muffled voice coming from the front. Thankfully, a wall separated the offices from the deputy on duty. He listened a moment longer. He'd hate Gary to go to the john and interrupt him. He liked Gary. He didn't want to hurt him. He crept around the door to Jesse's office and closed it, turning the knob so it wouldn't click. This was too easy. Way too easy. Jesse didn't give him much of a challenge. Jesse thought he was so clever. A fancy degree from college. That time he'd spent with the FBI. Now the hometown hero was sheriff and everyone looked up to him. He wasn't any more than David was. In fact, Jesse was less. David had never lived on the reservation. David knew Jesse was just a reservation Indian putting on airs. David would have had what Jesse had, except he'd had some back luck. That's all it was. Bad luck. He'd be playing pro football now, but he broke his leg in high school and it was never again strong enough. Then there had been that teacher who hated him his first semester of college. She'd flunked him and he'd lost his scholarship. He couldn't afford to go on like Jesse. Jesse got all the breaks. David just got bad luck. He'd show them now. Once he had the gold and moved away, he'd make himself a life. Then he'd come back and show everyone he was better than Jesse. He didn't want Gary seeing him through the glass that made up the top half of the wall to Jesse's office.

David bent low and walked to the back of the room. The darkness hung thick. David pulled out a small flashlight and listened again. All was quiet. He shone the light on the dial to the safe. The old thing should have been replaced years ago, but Jesse said they only locked something in it every ten years, so why bother. Jesse had the combination and no one else. They'd changed it when the old sheriff retired. David had taken it out of Jesse's wallet and memorized it. He had a way of remembering numbers. The safe might not be used often, but he'd been prepared in case something interesting was ever locked in it. Up to now, the only thing in it had been a deed two guys had fought over. It hadn't been worth filching, but the gold was. He'd also take the antique Colt. Those were real fancy pieces and, from what Jesse said, would bring a fat piece of change. He turned the dial, slowly, trying to hear the clicks. He didn't need to hear them, but the sound had a comfort to it. He stopped at the last number and turned the handle. It didn't budge. David rocked back on his heels. He must have dialed the numbers wrong. He thought. No, he had the right numbers. He spun the dial and started again. At the last number, he turned the handle again. It didn't budge. Anger welled up in David and he wanted to scream, but Gary would be there in an instant, gun drawn and he wouldn't have a chance to defend himself. A burning sensation started in his stomach. He balled his hands into fists. Damn, Jesse. He'd changed the combination. It wouldn't stop here. If he couldn't get the gold out of the safe, he'd get Jesse to do it for him. He stood and walked to Jesse's desk. He tipped the baskets and let the papers float to the floor. Turning around, he took down the picture of Jesse with the mayor. Laying it on the desk, he slammed the heel of his hand into it, shattering the glass. He took an arrow from his bag. He'd intended to leave it in the locked safe. Tie the burglary to the shooting of Cassidy. Jesse would have been so surprised. The gold vanished and, in its place, an arrow. A gurgling sound tried to erupt from David and he swallowed it. He gripped the ends of the arrow and slowly snapped the shaft. He dropped the broken pieces on top of the papers. Who the hell did Jesse think he was anyway? **** Jesse watched the state forensics team pack up and leave his office. What a way to start the morning, finding his office broken into while his deputy was on duty. Thank goodness nothing of importance, including the gold, was missing. “I don't know how you couldn't have heard someone in my office last night.” Jesse looked at the mess. Papers had been strewn everywhere. “Honest, boss, I didn't hear a thing.” Gary ran his fingers through his hair. “It was real quiet last night. I only got three calls and sent Bill right out on them." “A person couldn't come in here and not be heard or seen.” A shiver ran up his spine. First a woman with an arrow in her back and now someone coming right into his office and no one noticing. “How'd he get in?"

“Not through the front door. I didn't leave my post all night.” Gary stood straight and looked Jesse in the eye. “Not even to go to the john?” He knew his deputy wouldn't lie to him. He was a good young man. The best deputy he had. “Once. The front door was locked. In fact, the front door was locked all night and no one came to it.” Gary looked around the room. He picked up the smashed picture from Jesse's desk. “I'd have seen anyone on the way to the john anyway. I have to walk right past here. I didn't notice anything.” He shook the broken glass into the trash can. “I'm sorry, Jesse. Real sorry." “The picture and frame can be replaced.” Jesse checked his one window to the outside. It was intact. The latch didn't look like anyone had tried to pry it. Phantoms made him leery. He'd had enough of them when he worked for the FBI. Apache Creek didn't need one. “Not the picture.” Gary hung the glassless frame back on the wall. “I'm sorry about not hearing the perp." “Have you checked the back door?” Jesse moved out of his office and walked toward the back of the station. “Locked tight." “Look like anyone tried to force it?" “No, sir." Someone had entered. The person hadn't transported through the walls. “The burglar had to have gotten in here one way or another. If not the front, then the back.” Jesse examined the lock. Pulling out his keys, he opened the door and examined the outside of it. He found no evidence of tampering. Slowly, he walked over the ground. The perp couldn't have left footprints. That would make it too easy. There could have at least been mud tracked on the cement leading from the parking lot. “Are you sure this door was locked last night?" “Yes, sir. I don't ever go sit up front before I check and make sure the back door's locked.” Gary looked toward the parking lot. “I don't want some crazy drunk sneaking up on me in the middle of the night. Some of those good-old-boys from Hank's bar would like nothing better than surprising one of us by creeping in." Jesse locked the door. “Who has keys?” He'd heard stories about the deputies being surprised on duty when they didn't have the sense to keep the doors locked at night. It hadn't happened since he'd been sheriff because the deputies had learned from their experiences. “You. All the deputies,” said Gary. “No one else?" “No. Each key is assigned out and checked back in when someone leaves. Never had a missing door key." Jesse sighed. “Have the locks changed and new keys issued. Keep it real quiet. I don't want to alert whoever came in here that we're doing this.” He looked back at the door. Someone had to have come in it last night. He pulled his keys from his pocket and took off the door key. “Here. Let me know when we have new ones."

He walked back to his office and sat in the chair looking at the papers spread everywhere. Someone had been angry. Very angry. He looked at the safe. The gold was still inside, as was Cassidy's Colt. Changing the combination had been a good idea. If someone had had the combination and the key to the back door, he had to know that someone. He didn't like the prickling on the back of his neck. He leaned his chin on his hands. Cassidy hadn't left the house last night. She could have gotten the key, but not the combination. He didn't carry it with him any longer. She knew the gold was in the safe to keep it secure and she could ask for it. Or was she afraid to ask? Could she be a burglar? Was that how she'd gotten the coins in the first place? Why wasn't someone looking for them? He'd tried all avenues to discover who was missing gold pieces. Legal and illegal turned up nothing. Did she have a partner who had turned on her? This Jake fellow she'd mentioned? It didn't seem likely. He couldn't dismiss her out of hand as a suspect. People didn't carry around nineteenth century twenty-dollar gold pieces. Not in a leather bag hung around their necks. The only other alternative was someone wanted the gold. That wasn't all that surprising. It was worth a great deal and if no one claimed it and he couldn't prove it had been stolen, it would go back to Cassidy. She'd be a very wealthy young woman. Who wanted the gold? When would the person strike again? The perp was angry, out of control. Otherwise, the would-be-thief would have walked out the back door and no one would have ever known anyone had been there. Whoever the perp was, Jesse wanted that person. God, none of this made any sense. Not since the day Cassidy had fallen into his lap. He didn't want to believe she was involved in any wrong doing. She looked so helpless as she lay on his couch convalescing, and so beautiful. So very, very beautiful. He wanted her to be innocent. He wanted to hold her in his arms. It had been a very long time since he'd wanted to hold a woman, but he wanted to hold her. Hold her, taste her and imprint her on his body. He wanted to know every part of her. He shook his head and picked up the papers on the floor. Dreaming about the strange woman living in his house would do him no good. Clearing her from his mind was what he needed to do and then straighten his office. **** Jesse parked his truck in front of the small blue house. The screen door hung crookedly from one hinge. The bottom porch step sagged in the middle. Jesse shook his head as he slid out, the arrows in his hand. He needed to remember to come out here one Saturday and fix those things for his cousin. He didn't know why his older relatives had to be so stubborn about keeping their homes in repair. George was as bad as Grandfather. “George, you home?” Jesse hollered from the front of his truck. He didn't get a response. George was probably in the back with the horses. He spent most of his time with them. Jesse had to admit his cousin was one of the best horse trainers he knew. Even at sixty, the man could pick the best horse flesh and do wonders. Jesse had always thought George should have been stuck with the big gray, but Grandfather had said no. Jesse walked around back and entered the stable. “Hey, George. You in here?"

“Back here." Jesse strolled around back and found George cleaned manure from one of the stalls. “Why don't you get some kid to help you with that?" “It's good exercise. Besides, the young ones don't want to do this.” George leaned against the handle of the shovel. His blue shirt sleeves were rolled up, exposing arms as strong as Jesse's. Dust covered George's jeans. “You still could use some help around here and I know several boys who'd love to learn from you.” He studied his cousin's face. Lines etched his forehead and cheeks and gave him a look of a perpetual frown. His graying hair was tied back from his face with a leather thong. George was the only other person still on the reservation related to Jesse and his grandfather. He would be the only other one who would know about the family mark on the arrows. What reason would George have for wanting to hurt Cassidy? The man made sufficient money for his needs training and selling his horses. He lived simply, like Grandfather, except George actually had bought himself a generator so he could watch television. “You didn't come out here to talk about me getting help with my horses.” George laid the shovel on top of a wheelbarrow. Jesse took the wheelbarrow, clutching the arrows on top of one handle, and rolled it outside. George trailed behind him. “I can do that. I'm not such an old man I need help." “Since when can't family help family?" “So you came here for help.” George took a cigar out of his shirt pocket and lit it. “You and Grandfather. You both always know what I want before I do.” Jesse moved upwind. Grandfather's cigars were bad enough, but the ones George smoked made Grandfather's smell good. George shrugged. “When you listen with your heart, you know what is needed." “Have any of our relatives moved back to the reservation recently? Any I don't know of.” That would help explain things. Of course, Jesse was sure Grandfather would have told him if any family had come home. He'd have dragged them to Jesse's for dinner and stories. He could always hope. “No. Tall Trees would have told you.” George took a drag on his cigar, held the smoke a moment, then blew a ring into the air. “Nope. Just the three of us left around here." Jesse held out the two arrows. “What can you tell me about these?” It had to be a family member after Cassidy. Otherwise, the arrows didn't make sense. George was the only other family member. Grandfather wouldn't go around shooting at Cassidy. George reached out with his gnarled right hand, the fingers permanently curled toward the palm. Jesse laid the arrows on George's palm and George tilted his hand so they slid beneath his fingers. He extricated one and studied it for a moment. Nodding his head, he said, “Yes. Our family mark. I remember it from when I was a tyke. Don't often see it anymore.” He turned the arrow again. “'Course, not many people make arrows anymore. No one cares about family marks." “Someone does. Someone dangerous.” Jesse studied George. The man couldn't notch an arrow if his life depended on it. He'd have to use a rifle so he could balance it with his arm.

George looked at the other arrow. “Not someone in this family." “It has to be. Who else would know?" George studied him. “Only you, Jesse. Tall Trees and I gave up bows and arrows with our childhood. Too much effort. Guns are so much easier." “Think. Do you know anyone who might use that mark? Do you know anyone who has a grudge against our family?” Jesse grasped at straws, but he didn't have much else at which to grasp. “No one holds grudges. Even the white men leave us be. They don't want to come out here and see how we live. They want to forget we exist." Jesse smiled. Grandfather complained about the same thing. “Is that why you let the front of your place rot and fall away?" “Can't hold a hammer." A twinge of guilt stabbed at Jesse's heart. “I'll come by soon and fix that for you." “Don't worry about it." “I do. I don't want you falling down the steps. Or Grandfather falling down the steps when he comes to visit." “You've been real busy with that white woman living at your house." “George, I'm only trying to protect her. Some lunatic is after her.” Jesse sighed. He told the truth. If he put Cassidy in a motel, then he'd have to post a deputy with her around the clock and he didn't have that many deputies. Besides, he liked having her around. She made him look at things in a new way, as if everything was a great discovery. Plus, she made his blood boil and his heart race. George stared at him for a moment and then nodded his head. “Whatever you say, cousin." “Can you tell me anything about the arrows?" George looked at them again. He ran the fingertips of his left hand over the shafts. “One was made with great care to be true in the hunt. The other came from the sporting goods store." “Both have the mark on them.” They had to come from the same place. “A mark is easy to make." “Who would know?" George handed the arrows to Jesse. “Someone with a grudge." “That or a thief." George shrugged. “I don't know, Jesse. You'll have to listen to your heart to find out which." “Someone with a grudge against me?” Jesse took the arrows and stared at them. Oh, Lord. That list could be endless. How many enemies had he made while he was in the FBI? “That doesn't make sense. Cassidy was shot before I met her. It has to be a lunatic thief, but who?"

George shrugged again and ambled back toward the stable. **** Cassidy pulled at the bottom of her skirt, trying to stretch it. She sighed as Jesse and David climbed out of the truck. When Charlene had dressed her in this outfit, she'd said it was perfectly acceptable. Cassidy wasn't so sure. She couldn't believe she'd allowed them to talk her into going out dressed like this. They'd all said they needed a night out after the day they'd had, especially Jesse, so Charlene had shown up with this “dress." Of course, Jesse and David could stand there and tell her she was dressed properly. They were covered head to foot. David wore a gray suit. And Jesse ... he looked more handsome than anyone should be allowed. His white suit contrasted with his tanned skin and black hair. She wanted his suit. Over her dress. She squirmed in the seat. Never had she shown so much skin in her life. Hell, she had more skin showing than a saloon girl. Her legs were covered with black stockings, which Charlene called nylons. A row of black flowers ran evenly up the outside of each leg to the hem of her skirt ... which came a good five inches above her knees. Knees that had only seen the light of day when she bathed. Her shoulders were bare except for tiny little straps that barely held the dress up over her breasts. If she leaned forward, she would fall out of it. This dress wasn't proper. She couldn't get out of the truck and go into a saloon dressed like this. Someone would mistake her for one of the whores who worked there. Jesse seemed to like the dress. So did David. They both looked at her as if she was dessert, and they were ready to eat. Jesse held his hand in the passenger door of the truck. “Come on." She shook her head. “No." “What do you mean no?” He leaned in. “I'm not going.” She clasped her hands in her lap. “No one will harm you here." “I'm not worried about that.” She might have defied custom in her day, but she never flaunted her body like some wanton and she wasn't about to start now. “Charlene's waiting for us. She's getting us a table for dinner. Then maybe we can dance.” He smiled at her, his dark gaze caressing her. Heat started in the middle of her and made her want to squirm. She looked away. She wasn't going inside. Dancing. He'd said dancing. “I don't dance." “Don't or can't?” He laid his hand on hers. “Can't. Never learned.” That would be the perfect excuse to go home. He laughed. “I'll teach you after we eat." She stared at him. “I'm not going in there."

Jesse sat on the seat next to her. “David, we'll be inside in a moment. Go find Charlene and Wilma and let them know we're here.” He turned to Cassidy. “Are you afraid of someone in there?" She shook her head. “I only know Charlene." “Then what's the matter?” He stroked her arm. “Are you feeling sick?" Sick. She could be sick and he'd take her home. She looked into his eyes. She'd never been any good at lying. Trying to keep her stories straight took way too much effort. At the moment she had enough to hide from him without adding an outright lie. “No. I feel fine." He took her hand in his. “Then come on. You'll have fun. Charlene will be there and you know her. Wilma's real nice and you know David.” He pulled her toward the door. “I won't make you dance if you don't want to." “Jesse, I can't go in there." He stopped. “Why, Cassidy?" She looked down at the bottom of her skirt. “This dress." “What's wrong with the dress? Did you split a seam or something?" “No. It's ... it's ... there's no material to it. It doesn't cover anything. I'm practically naked." Jesse laughed and the laughter swirled around filling the cab of the truck. “It's not supposed to cover a lot. You'll blend in with the other women. Besides, you're ravishing in that outfit." “I don't want to be ravished.” She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to cover part of her skin. “No one's going to ravish you. I'll make sure of that.” He studied her for a moment. “You've never had a cocktail dress before, have you?" “If that's what this is, no, I haven't. Haven't worn a dress since my fourteenth birthday and never would I have worn something like this. It's down right indecent." “No, it isn't. Every woman in there will be wearing something similar." She shook her head again. “I don't want to be mistaken for one of the saloon girls. I'm not that kind of woman." “Saloon girls? Cassidy, this is a restaurant and bar. I guess the bar is like a saloon, but the waitresses all wear uniforms.” A puzzled look formed in his eyes. “Come on, Cassidy. You'll have fun. You've been laying about. You need to get out. No one's going to think anything's wrong with the way you're dressed." “Are you sure?” She looked at the edge of the skirt again. Her skin showed through the sheer material of the stockings. A shiver ran down her arms. “Are you cold? Where'd you'd put your coat?” Jesse looked over the back of the seat. “I'm fine and I left it at home." “Oh.” He reached out to her.

She didn't want to go, but the look in his eyes told her he wanted her to accompany him. She slid from the truck. She'd do it for him. As she stood, she tried to yank her skirt down farther, but it wouldn't budge. At least she'd talked Charlene out of those awful shoes with the tiny spikes at the heels. She'd finally settled on a pair of sandals that had only two straps in front, but they seemed to be staying on her feet. What she wouldn't give for her Levis and boots. CHAPTER 7 Jesse wrapped his arm around her protectively as they entered the restaurant. The smells raced around her, heavenly smells. She couldn't sort them out, but her stomach rumbled. Charlene waved from a table about halfway across the room. Jesse waved back. “We're joining them,” he said to a man in a suit. Cassidy studied each woman as they walked toward Charlene and the others. Most of them didn't have on much more than she did. It didn't make her feel any better. She still felt naked. Not only didn't she have on any clothing, she didn't have a weapon. Never in her life had she been caught like this. Even bathing, she'd kept her weapons near to hand. She slid into the chair next to David and Jesse pushed it in for her. He handed her a menu as he sat next to her. “I see you didn't wait,” he said to Charlene. “I ordered us some appetizers—Buffalo wings and fried mozzarella.” She put some on a plate and handed it to Cassidy, holding back the edge of the green scarf around her neck so it wouldn't drag in the food. Her emerald colored dress cut straight across her breasts and hugged her body so tightly it seemed to be part of her skin. “What took you so long getting out of the truck?" “Cassidy was trying to get her hair clip to stay put.” Jesse flipped open his menu. “Her hair's so heavy, it doesn't want to stay in." Charlene had a puzzled look on her face. “I see she gave up. I'll show her a trick for that." Cassidy stared at the plate sitting on a white linen tablecloth. At least he hadn't embarrassed her by telling them she was uncomfortable in this dress. She studied the food in front of her. Which was the buffalo wing? One thing was definitely chicken. The other, she had no idea. “Has everyone decided on what they want?” Jesse set his menu aside. “We had plenty of time.” David picked up his drink. “Thought you two had changed your minds. Thought you might be outside smooching.” He looked from Jesse to Cassidy. “I beg your pardon.” Cassidy glared at him. “We were doing no such thing." Jesse smiled a strained smile. David laughed. “Pretty defensive, aren't you?" Charlene tapped David on the arm. “Leave them be. She'll never want to come out with us again if you give her a hard time tonight.” She smiled at Cassidy. “This here's Wilma." Cassidy smiled at Wilma. Her red dress veed low in the front and exposed a great deal of her breasts. Cassidy couldn't believe anyone would go out in that. It didn't cover as much as a camisole. “Nice to

meet you.” She looked back at her menu. “There are so many choices." A waiter appeared beside Jesse. “Are you ready?" “Yes,” said David. “Not quite,” said Jesse. “The lady hasn't decided." “I don't want to hold everyone up.” She couldn't even read half the items on the menu. Some was Italian and some Mexican. “I'll have a steak.” She closed the menu. “Which cut, miss?” The waiter held his pen poised above a piece of paper. Cassidy hadn't seen steaks listed, but had hoped they would have them like every restaurant she'd ever frequented. She'd never had a choice before. Grabbing for the menu, she hunted for them. “Bring her the filet.” Jesse took the menu from her hand. “With a baked potato and a salad.” He turned to Cassidy. “You want a Pepsi or something else?" She nodded her head. “Pepsi is nice, thanks." She looked around the room. Large paintings of the desert covered the walls, some in pastels, other in vivid colors making the land look alive and inviting. Flickering candles graced each table, giving off a soft glow Cassidy found comforting. Waiters in black suits walked back and forth among the tables. Jesse had been right. Every woman in the place seemed to be dressed in what he'd called a cocktail dress. It still didn't seem proper. She let her hands drop into her lap. “Where do you come from?” asked Wilma. Her blond hair framed her face and sparkling red and gold ear bobs hung down and jingled against her neck. Cassidy looked up. “Outside Glendale.” About thirty miles outside Glendale had been where her parents’ ranch had been. “Your family still there?” Charlene reached for the chicken wings covered with a gooey sauce. “No.” Cassidy picked up the stick-shaped thing Charlene had placed on her plate and bit into it. Melted cheese. That couldn't be the buffalo wings. “Where are they?” David waved his empty glass toward a waiter. Cassidy glanced at him. Somehow she had to get them off questioning her. She knew Jesse wanted to know more about her, but what could she say? She looked over to him. Had he put them up to asking the questions? She turned back toward David. “My parents died when I was twelve." “Oh.” Charlene looked away and took a piece of cheese. The silence hung heavily over the table. Cassidy picked up her Pepsi when the waiter brought it. She'd never been any good at small talk. Hell, she'd never had much opportunity. Most of the time she was with other people she was looking over a hand of cards, or sitting around a campfire, planning where they were going and why. “Had any luck finding out who shot Cassidy?” asked David. Jesse moved a piece of cheese around on his plate with his fork. “Nope."

“You know, I'll bet it was some lunatic.” Wilma leaned forward, her eyes shining. “Like you see on TV all the time. Shot her ‘cuz he felt like it.' “Naw,” said Charlene. “I'll bet it was some kid who was out playing with the new archery set he got for his birthday and is too scared to come forward. When he saw he shot her, he probably hightailed it right back home and hid the evidence." “I'll vote for the kid.” Jesse patted Cassidy's leg under the table. “I'd a lot rather have some stupid kid on the loose than a lunatic. I don't need any of them around here." “It couldn't have been an accident.” David took a long drink from his glass. “Why not?” asked Jesse. “'Cuz of the gold. Someone was trying to rob her.” A smug smile crossed David's face. “It was probably an accident.” Cassidy picked at the edge of her napkin, letting her fingers brush against Jesse's. Heat radiated up her leg from his hand, making that feeling in the pit of her stomach come back again. She liked the feeling. She glanced up at Jesse. It happened every time she got close to him, but he was an Apache and not from her time. She couldn't stay here, so she'd better not get too used to the feeling. “Why do you say that?” asked Wilma. “I really like the lunatic theory." “You wouldn't if you were the one who got shot.” Charlene laughed. “Wait until that lunatic shows up at the Parkhouse Cafe waving his bow and arrow. Then you won't like it so much." Wilma slapped Charlene on the arm. “He won't. She was shot out in the desert and I, for one, girlfriend, am not going out there." “You never leave town,” said Jesse. “You got it. It's right comfortable here and I have everything I want. I don't need to be wandering off.” Wilma smiled at Jesse. “'Cuz here I know you'll keep the lunatics away. I want to know why Cassidy thinks it was an accident." “People don't use bows and arrows anymore.” Cassidy squeezed Jesse's hand under the table. “Or so Jesse says." “Well, girlfriend, he doesn't know everything,” said Charlene. “That's for sure,” said David. “He can't even figure out what happened to you." “I got an arrow in the back.” Cassidy shrugged her shoulders. “What else does he have to figure out?" “Nothing, except who was on the sending end.” Jesse laid his arm across the back of Cassidy's chair. The waiter brought the food and the conversation drifted away from Cassidy. She ate quietly, hoping the rest would ignore her as they talked about friends she didn't know. She tried to shrink down into herself, wishing she were invisible. “I'm full.” Charlene pushed her plate away. “I ate way too much. I won't be able to dance." “I've never seen you unable to dance.” David laid his fork down. “Shall we adjourn to the other side and see if any tables are left near the dance floor?"

“I'm ready.” Jesse slid his chair back and helped Cassidy slide hers. “I'm going to the powder room.” Wilma stood and picked up her bag. “Coming?” She inclined her head to Charlene and Cassidy. “Right behind you,” said Charlene. Powder room. Oh, Lord, what could that be and why would they go to it? What strange ritual was she supposed to follow after dinner with the women? Something like the men going in the other room to have brandy and cigars? Of course, she'd always gone with the men. She hadn't the faintest notion what might happen in the room into which the women went. Coffee maybe. “No, thank you. I'll wait here." “You sure you don't want to freshen up before we get to dancing?” asked Charlene. Cassidy nodded her head. “I'm sure. I'll stay with Jesse and David." “We'll meet you on the other side.” Jesse took Cassidy's hand and placed it on his arm. She liked the rough feel of his suit beneath her fingers. Even more, she liked the rippling of his muscles against her hand as he moved. The sensation ran through her fingers and into the core of her. David drained his glass and reached for Cassidy's other hand. Jesse moved them into a narrow space between tables, and David was pushed behind them. **** David watched Jesse on the dance floor with Cassidy. The look on Jesse's face told him he enjoyed himself far too much holding Cassidy in his arms. Jesse never dated. Not that this was a date. They'd taken Cassidy out because they all wanted a night out. Actually, it had been Charlene's idea. She'd told Jesse he couldn't keep Cassidy locked up forever. Jesse, of course, feared for Cassidy's safety. He didn't want anymore incidents in his jurisdiction. David smiled as he took a swig of his scotch. He let the warming liquid flood through him. Jesse worried about his image. What would people think if they knew he lusted after a woman he was supposed to be protecting? What right did he really have to keep her at his house? None. Nor did Jesse have the right to lock up her gold. During his investigation, he hadn't been able to prove she had stolen it. He should return it to her. David drummed his fingers on the table. He wished the dance would end and they'd return to the table. He didn't like the look on Jesse's face. He didn't like the way Jesse caressed Cassidy's back or the way she snuggled her head against his chest. Jesse had even stolen a kiss between dances. Granted, Cassidy was a beautiful woman, especially since they'd gotten her out of those buckskins and into a dress. That didn't mean Jesse had to paw at her. She wasn't meant for Jesse. She wasn't his type. David concentrated on the couple on the floor. Cassidy tripped over Jesse's feet again and pulled back from him, her head hanging. Jesse laughed and pulled her back into his arms. His hand rested against her waist. A waist that could be spanned by a man's hands. Cassidy laid her head against Jesse's shoulder, her hair hanging loose against his arm. David could tell Jesse immensely enjoyed having Cassidy in his arms. David flagged down a waiter and ordered another drink. Jesse wanted the woman. This time he wouldn't

get what he wanted. David would use his charm on Cassidy. He'd have Cassidy and the gold. She didn't seem to have any family or any reason to hang around here. He'd convince her to go away with him. Then he wouldn't have to steal the gold. The music stopped and Jesse brought Cassidy back to the table. He helped her into her chair. “We ought to try another dance." “I've stomped your toes enough for now.” Cassidy settled into her chair and took a drink of her soda. “My feet will survive. Besides, the last few minutes, you did great. You only need to relax.” He took her hand. “You aren't that bad a dancer." “It was fun." “I don't believe you've never been dancing before.” Jesse shifted his chair so he could watch the dance floor. “I never said that. I've danced a time or two, but my partners weren't any better than I was and a bit in their cups.” She shrugged. “I guess I was too." “Then we should get you a real drink.” David raised his hand to flag the waiter. With a few drinks in her, Cassidy would be easier to convince he was right and Jesse was wrong. “That's a bad idea.” Jesse looked at David and shook his head. “She's still taking those pills Doc gave her." David let his hand fall into his lap. Jesse was probably right. He didn't want to make her sick or worse. He nodded to Jesse. Charlene walked up to the table. “Come on, handsome.” She held her hand out to Jesse. “You're still the best dancer here and it's my turn.” She looked at Cassidy. “You don't mind, do you?" Cassidy shook her head. “No. His feet need a rest and so do I.” She laughed. David liked the way her laugh sounded. She seemed happy, at peace with her world. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been at peace. He'd been cheated out of so many things, like the last job he had where he'd been up for a promotion. A white man got the job. A stupid man who couldn't do half the job David did. Then the man had gotten him fired. Said he was stealing from the job. He hadn't stolen anything. He'd only borrowed the computer so he could work at home. He leaned over to Cassidy. “Are you having a good time?" “Yes.” She shifted her chair so she looked toward the dance floor. “Charlene seems to be an excellent dancer." “One of the best." “How come she doesn't have a beau?" David liked the way Cassidy talked. It made her seem so innocent, yet she couldn't be. “She does, off and on. She changes men like she does dresses. One day she might settle down, but who knows. She likes playing the field." “Playing in what field?” Cassidy looked at him with her big blue eyes.

“Likes to date different men." “Oh. She and Jesse seem right friendly. Suppose he'll ever take to courtin’ her?” She looked back at the dance floor. “Naw. Jesse and Charlene are only friends. They've been friends for years.” It irked him at times though that they were such good friends. He'd been Jesse's only friend for a long time. Then Charlene had moved to Mesa in the seventh grade, and she and Jesse and David had become friends. When he'd moved to Apache Creek, the friendship hadn't started up again. Charlene had been standoffish. The only reason she tolerated David was because of Jesse. Always Jesse. “No. It'll never happen. I don't see Jesse interested in a relationship with any woman." Cassidy watched the dancers for a minute, then turned back to David. “He's a fine, handsome man. I'd think he'd have his choice of women even though he's..." “He's what?" She shook her head. “Nothing." “Oh, he does. He has women hanging on him all the time.” David took a sip of his drink. “He could have anyone he wants, but why should he choose when he can have all of them.” He looked over the top of his glass, watching Cassidy. Something flashed through her eyes. David wasn't quite sure what. He touched her hand. “He's helping you ‘cuz he doesn't want any harm to come to you. He'd feel responsible." “I know that.” Her voice was soft. “He owes me nothing. I do thank him for taking me in when I had no where to go, but I'll be moving on soon. I'm feeling better and can take care of myself." “He won't like you leaving until he's sure you're not in danger.” David liked the softness of Cassidy's skin against his. He could be happy, at least for a while, with her and her gold. Cassidy looked back toward the dance floor. “I won't be a burden on anyone.” A sigh rattled through her. “I'll have to find a way to repay him." “He doesn't expect to be repaid.” Jesse did things to show others how magnanimous he was. He was always showing off, helping others. David would help others, too, if he had the money, but he had a stinking job and barely got by himself. He had another month or two before they foreclosed on his trailer. He smiled at Cassidy. “It doesn't matter what he expects. I pay my own way.” She drained her glass. “I'd like another drink." David waved to a waiter. “You don't have to worry about paying him. You have all those gold coins." “They aren't mine.” Her voice was matter-of-fact. “Then who do they belong to?” They had to be hers. Jesse had looked everywhere. No one was missing all those gold pieces. David's stomach twisted, then he relaxed. It didn't matter to whom they belonged. “They belong to Jake." “Then why doesn't he claim them?"

Cassidy laughed. “He doesn't know where to find them or me." “Then send him a fax.” He'd have to make sure Jake never showed up. That couldn't be too hard. Jesse would know when Jake was due and David would get the information. “A what?” Cassidy turned her chair away from the dance floor. “A fax. A note. Or better yet, call him." She giggled. “He doesn't have a phone." David shook his head. Either she'd been drinking or he'd had too much. “Everyone has a phone." “No phone. Never heard of a fax. I could send a wire, but I don't think they'd be able to deliver it.” She laughed and laid her head down on her arm, shaking it back and forth. “What's so funny?” Maybe Jesse had given her too many pain pills, or she was one of those who reacted strangely. Phones and faxes didn't seem a reason for laughter. She wiped at her eyes. “Nothing. Nothing you'd understand." “Try me." She looked at him for a long moment, her eyes turning serious. “No. The money belongs to Jake, but I don't think I can return it." “If you can't return it, then it's yours to keep." “I don't rightly feel good about that.” She stared into her glass for a moment. “I'll have to figure on that.” She shrugged her shoulders. “First I have to see if I can get it back to Jake. Then I'll think about what to do if I can't." David took a long sip of his scotch. “With Jesse keeping the gold locked up, you can't even try to return it." “I've been too weary to care. Being shot in the back was a might more serious than any other injury I've ever suffered. I was lucky that Limp ... I ended up where I did.” She picked at the tablecloth. She was hiding something. Jake must be her partner. Maybe he'd been killed, while she'd managed to escape. Something strange had to have happened in the desert. “Now you're better, you should let Jesse know you want the gold back." Cassidy laid her hands on the table. “He'll give it back when he's ready." “He said it wasn't stolen, so he has no reason to keep it. It isn't evidence in a crime." Her eyes grew wide. “I didn't steal the gold. I didn't commit a crime." David patted her hand. “I know that.” He smiled. “Jesse doesn't think I did, does he?” She pulled her hand from his and let it fall into her lap. “He locked it up until he could be sure it hadn't been stolen. He couldn't be sure. You were attacked in a violent manner. That usually means something unsavory happened." “It had nothing to do with the gold. It had to do with..."

“With what?” He hated the way she kept trailing off her sentences. He wanted to know what she hid. He didn't want any surprises when he finally got his hands on those coins. “Nothing. It had nothing to do with the coins.” She glanced around the room and lowered her voice. “Jesse doesn't think I stole them.” It was a statement, but one with a bit of a question to it. “He can't prove it." “Why would he try?" “That's a hell of a lot of money." “It's quite a bit, but it doesn't seem all that much in this ... place.” She waved her hands in a sweeping motion. David stared at her. She had no idea how much those gold coins were worth. “Still, they're yours, or at least entrusted to your safekeeping. I'd think about Jesse having them locked in that old safe of his. Anyone could break in and steal them." “Jesse did say something about a break-in a couple of days ago.” She glanced over her shoulder. “He didn't say anything about the gold." “Why else would anyone break into his office? He doesn't have anything else worth stealing.” Locked in a safe with a new combination. The anger from the other night swirled through him and he took a drink to wash it away. Now was not the time to think about the safe. He could blow it. It wouldn't be that hard to break it open, but it would draw a great deal of attention and he'd have to deal with whichever deputy had duty. He didn't want to do that unless absolutely necessary. “I figured the gold was safe in his office. He said it was,” said Cassidy. “He'd never say different. He wouldn't admit if he'd made a mistake." Cassidy stared at David. “He doesn't seem the type of man who wouldn't own up to his mistakes." “You don't know him like I do. I've known him since I was ten. Jesse doesn't like it when people think he's made a mistake. He'll cover it up." “I would like to have my Colt and Winchester back.” She drew a circle with her finger on the table. “I'd feel better, too, having the gold now I'm nearly well. I might need to move on and I can't do that without my belongings." David looked up and saw Jesse and Charlene coming toward the table. “He won't give your stuff back unless you ask. He'll keep it forever." “Why would he do that?" “He won't let it go as long as there's a possibility he can pin a crime on someone. That's what he likes best.” David smiled and sipped his drink. The look on her face convinced him his words had started her thinking. All he needed was for her to get the gold from Jesse. The rest would be easy. “You guys having fun?” Charlene sat next to Cassidy. Cassidy fiddled with the edge of the tablecloth. “I suppose so."

“You suppose so. What kind of an answer is that?” Charlene reached for Cassidy's soda and finished it. “David, get us some more drinks. It's so hot in here I'm parched." “Want to try dancing again?” asked Jesse. “I'm ready to go home.” Cassidy glanced at Jesse, then back to the table. “Are you feeling okay?” He brushed her hair back from her face. “I'm getting tired.” Cassidy sat very still. “It's early yet.” Charlene reached for a glass as the waiter set down the drinks. “If she wants to go, I'll take her.” Jesse stood with his hands on the back of her chair. “The rest of you don't have to leave.” He smiled at Charlene. “I'm sure half the men in here are waiting for a chance to dance with you." “Of course.” She smiled back. “Anyone seen Wilma?" “She's over at a table with some guy I've never seen before.” David pointed across the room. “Oh, that's the guy that came into the diner earlier in the week. He's just moved here.” Charlene looked at Cassidy. “If you go home, I'll be all alone." Cassidy's eyes grew wide. “All these people are here. How can you be alone?" “I can't sit in a bar with people I don't know. Some man might take advantage.” Charlene fluttered her eyelashes. Jesse laughed. “Don't try and make her feel guilty. Not a man in this place has got the guts to take advantage of you." Charlene smacked him on the arm. “You can be such a pig sometimes, Jesse." He pretended to be shocked. “Me? I'm only telling the truth." “Hah!” Charlene looked toward Wilma. “It won't be any fun without someone to talk to between dances.” She turned back to Cassidy. “Stay a little longer." “A bit,” said Cassidy. “Try one more dance?” asked Jesse. “I'll try one more dance.” Cassidy slid her chair back. David watched as the pair walked out to the dance floor. Jesse pulled Cassidy close and a cold hand squeezed at his heart. He had to get her away from Jesse. Her and the gold. CHAPTER 8 Jesse handed Cassidy a cup of coffee. “Did you have a good time?” He sat next to her on the couch. He couldn't believe how beautiful she looked in the black dress. The top of her breasts showed above the material, pushing up as though they wanted to escape.

She looked at him over the edge of her cup, then down at her lap. “Do you like this dress?" “Extremely." Carefully she set her cup on the table in front of her. “Isn't it a little scanty ... immodest?” Her cheeks flushed pink. “Not in the least.” He brushed her hair from her shoulders. “Charlene has great taste in clothes. I definitely like the way it looks on you." “It shows most of me.” She folded her hands in her lap. She looked demure. He couldn't remember the last time he'd met a woman who looked demure and actually wasn't putting on an act. He let his finger trail down her arm to her hand and pulled it to his mouth, kissing the back of her hand softly. “You were the most beautiful woman in the place tonight." She smiled. “I doubt that." “I didn't see another who was even close." “Were you looking?" He laughed and put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to him. “A peek now and then. Wanted to see how many people watched you and thought what a lucky guy I was to have you on my arm." “That's the sappiest thing I've ever heard." “I'm sure you've heard many compliments.” A woman as lovely as Cassidy had to have men buzzing around her like bees around a beautiful flower. He'd seen many of the men look at her, including David. David had been a bit too close. Jesse didn't mind if they looked. It made him proud. Getting close enough to touch didn't settle so well. He rubbed his cheek against her hair. “Not so many. Most of the men I meet aren't into sappy talk. Just ‘you want to go upstairs?’” He leaned her back slightly so he could look into her face. He ran his fingers over her high cheekbones. Her skin had a smoothness like satin. He blinked and looked at her. “They said what?" “You want to go upstairs?" He couldn't believe any man would say such a thing. Most men went to a bar looking for a woman for one reason, but they were usually more tactful than that. “You must've met some really low class men. What did you say?" She giggled. “I introduced them to the knife in my boot. Took away any ideas they might have. They'd go bother one of the ... the girls." “Cassidy, to what kind of places do you go?” Maybe she'd been on her own too long and didn't have any better sense than to go into some dive where anything could happen. He couldn't imagine her in such a place, not such a lovely, desirable woman, and boy, did he desire her. He'd like to ask the same question, only as “do you want to go to bed?" “The only places around.” She shrugged and snuggled next to him. “You smell nice." “Thank you.” He hugged her. He leaned forward and kissed her. She stroked the side of his face with

her fingertips. Little electric shocks went out from her fingers and through his skin. Jesse pulled back, looking at her. “I'm really glad you went out with us tonight. Charlene and Wilma were glad too." “David seemed to like my company." “A little too much.” Jesse put his hand behind Cassidy's head and pulled her to him again, taking her lips against his. He kissed her long and hard, wanting to brand her as his own. He hadn't met a woman he'd wanted to be his in a very long time, but this one he did. He didn't want her looking elsewhere. She pushed into him. He could feel the outline of her breasts against his chest, burning into him, branding him. He ran his hand down her back, feeling the warmth of her skin in contrast to the silky feeling of her dress. Her hair covered his arm like a soft blanket. He slid down the dress strap. He kissed her neck and down her shoulder. A tiny gasp came from her lips. He peered up at her as her tongue flicked across her lips, moistening them. He ran his fingertips across the top of her dress, then followed with his lips. She shivered and clung to him. Placing his hand on her back, he eased down the zipper to release her breasts. His fingers touched her bandage. He pulled her toward him and kissed her. “You must be very tired." She pressed against him. “Yes." He hugged her. “I'll let you get ready for bed.” She looked so beautiful he'd forgotten she was still injured. Taking her out had probably put a strain on her. He should let her rest. “You don't have to.” She laid her head on his shoulder. He did if she planned on getting any rest tonight. If he touched her again, he wouldn't want to stop. He looked down at her as she sighed, her eyes starting to close. He smiled. God, she was gorgeous and she was in his arms. He had to be the luckiest man in the world. **** Cassidy sat on Jesse's porch swing and watched as David climbed from his truck. He waved to her. She waved back. “Jesse's not here." He smiled. “That's okay. I came to see you.” He walked up and sat on the swing. “How are you feeling?" “Fine.” She scooted away from him. David crossed his legs and leaned back. “I had a great time last night. We should go out again." “I had a nice time. Charlene seems very friendly.” Charlene and Wilma seemed very good friends. Cassidy had never had a woman friend. It might be nice to have a female to talk to once in a while about female things men didn't understand. “Are you going to stick around after you're feeling better and Jesse figures out what's going on?” David took her hand. She pulled her hand away, tucked it into her lap and sighed. She'd asked herself that question, but didn't have an answer. She didn't have the slightest idea where she might go. “I haven't thought that far yet.” Jesse would never figure out who shot her, but who had broken in, that he'd solve.

“I've been thinking about moving somewhere else.” David stared at her. “This is your home. Why would you leave it?” Cassidy looked at him for a moment. She wished she had a home to go to. Right now she'd like to go to Jake's, put her feet on his desk, drink his whiskey and smoke his cigars. Jake understood her and wouldn't judge her for her unorthodox ways. Jake was family. Jake was gone. “Not many jobs in the area. I'm sure I could do better elsewhere.” He stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankle. “You got any ideas on what kinda job you're going to look for?" Cassidy laughed. She didn't think she could do anything in this century. “I haven't thought about it.” She didn't want to. “Wilma probably can get you on at the diner. They always need help.” He sat up and shifted slightly so he partially faced her. “I don't think I'd be very good as a waitress." “You'd do fine. It's not that hard a job.” A smile crossed his face. “Cassidy, you're a real fine looking woman. I'd really like to get to know you better." She shifted as far to the corner of the swing as she could. Jesse had her heart in a turmoil. She didn't need David trying to woo her while she sorted out the muddle she felt because of Jesse. “I don't know what to say." “I know. You've been here with Jesse.” A flash of anger went through David's eyes, then disappeared. “He's a handsome sort, but he's always busy with work. He never thinks of anything else. If he'd wanted to get married, more than enough offers have come his way.” He put his arm around Cassidy's shoulder and pulled her close to him. Cassidy pushed away and stood up, going to the porch railing. She stared down the road wishing Jesse would come home. She didn't want to start a problem with David, but she didn't like being alone with him. She could protect herself, though she'd feel better if her knife were in her boot. She turned to face David. David stood and leaned against the railing next to her. “I'm hungry. Want to go down to the diner and have some dinner with me?" “I promised Jesse I wouldn't leave until he got home." “We'll leave him a note and he can join us." “Let's wait for him." “He'd probably be miffed if we went without him. He expects people to do what he tells them.” David crossed his arms across his chest. “That's why they like him as sheriff. That and he's a stickler for details. He gets hold of something and worries it like a dog worries a bone until he gets the answers, no matter what." Cassidy smiled. Jesse was one who would never let go until he did get the answers. He wanted to know where she came from and who shot her, and it drove him crazy he was no closer to the answer. “That's Jesse." “You've seen it in him, huh?” A sly smile crossed David's face. “With all that gold you have, you won't

have to worry about getting a job." “Things seem awfully expensive. The gold won't last very long, even if I were free to spend it.” She'd seen the price tag on the dress and guilt had assuaged her thinking about how much money Jesse had spent on her. Not since she was fourteen had she let anyone pay for anything. She'd taken care of herself. She told her conscience she allowed it only because she was injured, but the injury had healed enough she could work. Lollygagging around wasn't the proper thing to be doing. She wasn't being fair to Jesse. Maybe she could get a job working with horses. David gave her a strange look. “It'll keep you a long time." “Really?” She studied David's face. He seemed to know. She shrugged. “I don't have the gold coins at the moment anyway." “You should. Jesse shouldn't leave you with no money." “He says it's safer in the safe at his work.” Cassidy had never really trusted banks and their safes, and she wasn't sure she trusted Jesse's. “That safe of Jesse's is older than the hills. I'm sure it wouldn't be hard to open if someone set their mind to it." She stared at him. She'd managed to keep the coins through an Apache attack and a devil wind into the this century. She wouldn't care to lose them now. “Do you really think they'd be safer somewhere else?" David nodded. “Jesse only uses that safe for papers once in a while. It's a joke." “He won't want to give them to me.” She spoke more to herself than she did David. “I'd feel better if I had them." “Then you should.” David laid his hand on her arm. She nodded. Yes, she wanted her gold back, and her Colt and her Winchester. She'd talk to Jesse. “He won't give them to you if you don't ask.” David stepped away from the railing and stood facing her. “With Jesse, you have to be firm. He likes things his way and won't give in unless you make him." “I'll discuss it with him.” She didn't want to anger him and have him throw her out. Where would she go? “At the moment, I need his help.” Besides, she liked being near Jesse and, until she decided where her home was, she wished to stay with him. “He'd never throw you out on the streets." “Are you sure?” David had known Jesse for a long time and they were good friends. She studied his face. All she could do was ask. The coins belonged with her. She would protect them. “Of course I'm sure.” He leaned forward and kissed her. She tried to back away. She heard a truck coming up behind them. David pulled her closer. She put her hands against his shoulders and shoved. He released her and stepped backwards, a smile on his lips. “You're so beautiful.” He started to reach out and touch her hair. She sidestepped him. “Don't ever touch me again without permission.” If she had her knife, she'd shove it up his nose, but Jesse had taken that also.

Tonight she would tell Jesse she wanted her belongings. He had no right to them. She would not be put in a position where she couldn't protect herself. Never. Not like that day when she was fourteen. She turned to see Jesse standing by the door of his truck, glaring at them. **** Jesse draped his arm around Cassidy's shoulders as they sat in the booth at the Parkhouse Cafe. The brown vinyl seats creaked as he leaned close to her. “We could sneak out while David's in the bathroom.” He raised his eyebrows up and down at her. Cassidy laughed. “He'd be furious." “You think I care?” Jesse still roiled from driving up and seeing David kissing Cassidy. Jesse hadn't laid any claim to her. Not overtly, but David should know better after all these years. Besides, Jesse was protecting her from some violent criminal who might still want her dead. David shouldn't be messing with his ... his ... David had better keep his lips off her. Cassidy patted Jesse's hand. “It was nothing." “Didn't look like nothing to me." She looked into his eyes. “He's supposed to be your best friend." “I know.” Best friends didn't kiss a man's woman like that. “Been through a lot together.” Jesse shook his head. “I don't understand.” Actually, he did. Cassidy was a beautiful woman. Most men would take a chance to steal a kiss. “Are you going to be angry with him?" Jesse kissed her cheek. “I'll forgive and forget.” He'd watch him. He studied the look on Cassidy's face. She seemed as upset about the kiss as he did. All during dinner she'd been very quiet and had only answered David's questions in monosyllables. “He didn't hurt you, did he?" “No.” She shook her head. “He knew you were driving up. We both heard the truck, so part of it was show for you.” She sighed and leaned against him. “However, in different circumstances, he might have. He's very strong." Jesse looked toward where David had disappeared down the wood paneled hall toward the johns. Several pictures of flowers hung near the neon restroom sign. The counter blocked the view of the bottom half of the hallway. He couldn't imagine his friend pushing himself on any woman, but Jesse had been gone for five years. People changed. He couldn't be sure. “I don't think he'd hurt you." “I don't know, Jesse.” She picked at the red checkered table cloth. “I didn't like the feeling I couldn't defend myself today." “You shoved him away." “You were right there. What was he going to do?" “Maybe you should take a self-defense class." “Jesse, you aren't understanding me. I've been able to defend myself since I was fourteen. No man I've

ever met would've dared to put their hands on me." Jesse took her small hand in his. “I can't imagine you putting the fear of God into anyone. You're such a tiny thing." “I'm not so tiny and I've got a whole lot of ornery.” She paused and watched Wilma refill their coffee cups. “You guys want some pie?” Wilma asked. “Surely do, beautiful.” Jesse smiled at Wilma. “Got any apple?" “Heated with ice cream.” Wilma wrote on her pad. “Three?" Jesse nodded. “You're not all that ornery." Cassidy smiled at him. She laid her head on his shoulder. “You'd be surprised under the right circumstances.” She squeezed his hand. “I've always had a way to defend myself. Always. Ever since that night when..." “When?” He liked her cuddled up next to him. She seemed to fit perfectly in his arms. He wanted to take her home so they could be alone and he could hold her. She tasted wonderful and he wanted to taste her again. Her hair smelled superb and he wanted to bury his face in it. “Just when. I don't like not having a weapon if I need one." He turned her face so he could look into her eyes. “Cassidy, people don't carry weapons. It's against the law." “Why? How are they supposed to defend themselves?" “You have to have a permit to carry a handgun. Concealed weapons are a felony." “Then I want a permit so I can carry my Colt. I want it back, along with my knife and my Winchester.” She pursed her lips together. “We have to get you a new driver's license first. You can't get a permit without ID.” It still baffled him she seemed in no hurry to get her ID replaced. She hadn't been carrying a wallet. He'd tried tracing stolen credit card slips, but she hadn't given him any help. “Back to the ID. I don't understand. I've never driven a car, so I never had a license. Never had any reason." “Where'd you come from, Cassidy?" She looked into his eyes. “From east of Mesa. Sort of. Sometimes. I moved around a lot. Depended on where I could find work." “Doing what?” She never had a straight answer. Actually, she never had a complete answer. She hid something and he would ferret it out of her. “Whatever.” She looked away toward the counter where Wilma fixed their pies. Then she looked back at him. “I want my Colt, my knife and my Winchester. They're mine and I want them where I can get to them if I need them.” Her voice was firm, saying she wouldn't accept any reply but yes.

He looked at her for a long moment. He really had no reason to keep them from her. Other than the fact he was intrigued that she carried antique weapons in pristine condition, he couldn't tie the weapons or her to any crime. “I'll bring them home, but you have to promise not to carry them around town." “Not even the knife?” Her eyes pleaded with him. “Not even the knife.” He hugged her. “I can't have you carving up some man who makes a pass at you." “Then he shouldn't pass close enough to have such a worry." Jesse laughed. “You say the strangest things.” He kissed her. God, she tasted wonderful. His blood pounded through his veins. Then he wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Am I in danger?" She sighed. “Never. You're trying to distract me. I have your promise you'll bring me the weapons tomorrow?" “I promise.” If he couldn't find anything that confirmed the weapons had been used in any illegal activity, he'd bring them to her. He didn't have any choice. “I want the coins back." “No, Cassidy.” He didn't want that much money in his house. “One attempt has been made to steal them. It would be dangerous to take them out of the safe." “How safe is your safe?" “It kept the thief out the last time.” Thank goodness. The county wouldn't have been happy with him if they'd had to replace that amount of money. He'd have been looking for a new job and a new profession. “They're not yours to keep.” She shifted away from him. “Jake entrusted them to me." “Jake can't take them back, or so you say. I'll keep them safe for the moment.” He'd protect her against herself. Someone would mug her for that gold. That was probably what had happened the first time. If those hikers hadn't happened by at the moment they did, the guy would have gotten the gold and Cassidy would have been dead. “No. You won't. I want the gold.” Cassidy glared at him. “I want it tomorrow." She seemed to have no concept of how dangerous it would be to have that much money in his house. “Not in my house. I don't want the guy breaking in there next. You could get hurt again and the gold would be gone. What would you tell Jake then?" “The same thing I'll tell him now." “Which is?" “I can't tell him anything because ... because ... Oh, hell. Give me back Jake's gold." “When Jake comes to get it, I'll give it to him.” Maybe he could trace the gold through Jake. He hadn't tried that yet. He didn't want Cassidy involved in a theft, but he had to know from where those coins came. “He can't come.” She turned away from him, her body rigid. “I was entrusted with the gold and I want it."

“Why can't he come?" “Because he can't.” She glared at him. Wilma set the pie in front of them and quickly backed away. “What's his last name?" Cassidy looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “Stinson. Why? You going to try and find him.” She laughed harshly. “It'll be one hell of a search." “Cassidy, why won't you tell me what you're hiding?" “I'm not hiding anything. I haven't done anything wrong, and I don't intend to be treated like a criminal. I want my belongings returned to me. That isn't too much to ask." She was right. She didn't ask too much. He hated letting go of her things. Once she had them, she could pack up and leave anytime she wanted to. He'd no longer have any hold over her. A twinge squeezed his heart. He didn't want her going out of his life. Once she had the gold, she might. Not that he wanted the money. He had enough for his wants. He wanted her. “I won't have the gold in the house." “Then I'll take it and leave." “No, you won't. It won't be safe. You won't be safe.” A sour taste rose from his stomach and he pushed away the pie. She'd be defenseless if she left. She'd become a victim to some fast talker or even worse, the someone with the arrows. “How about we put it in the bank?" She looked at him with wide eyes. “No banks. It wouldn't be safe. They're too easy to rob." “Banks aren't easy to rob and thieves seldom get into the safety deposit boxes.” He shook his head in wonderment. He didn't know anyone who feared putting their valuables in a bank. “Besides, we can get you insurance just in case." “Won't I need ID?” Her tone was sarcastic. “Yes." “So ... there I am again.” She sighed. “I don't have any ID." He'd never met anyone who didn't have some form of ID whether a driver's license, a credit card or a social security card. A person couldn't survive without it. “Why not?" “Never needed any.” She picked up her fork and stabbed the pie with it. “If I keep the gold somewhere else than in the house, will you give it back to me?" “Where will you keep it?” She didn't know any place but his house. “I won't have you putting Charlene in jeopardy." “I'd never do that.” She stuffed a bite of pie into her mouth. “Where will you keep it?" “Never you mind about that.” A smile crept across her face and she spooned up some ice cream. He could tell she let it slowly melt on her tongue and enjoyed it immensely, like a pleasure not often enjoyed.

“I will mind. I don't want to have another crime to investigate." She smiled at him. “You won't. I'll keep the coins safe." Jesse looked up and saw David coming toward them. “Okay, but not a word of this to anyone. Not even David. I want everyone to think the gold is still locked in my safe. Deal." She nodded. “Deal." CHAPTER 9 Jesse sat at his desk and examined the faxes he'd received. He couldn't trace a Jake Stinson in the Mesa area. In fact, he couldn't trace a Jake Stinson anywhere in Arizona. Cassidy had told him he wouldn't find Jake. He hadn't wanted to believe her. He rifled through the rest of the papers he kept in the file. Finally he'd gotten another fax from Georgia. He'd heard from every county and he still hadn't been able to find any record of a Cassandra Howard. He'd run her fingerprints the first day from her Pepsi can. He couldn't believe no one had her on file. Not even a thumb for a driver's license. She'd said she'd never had one. How could a person not exist somewhere? Everyone had a paper trail. He couldn't even find her social security number. All his contacts through the FBI hadn't been worth a damn. Cassandra Howard did not exist. He reached for the Interpol message. Still no one had reported any gold coins stolen. He knew of some private collections, but also knew the men who owned them wouldn't report a theft. They had their own ways of taking care of things. Others would know, and none of them had talked about a coin heist either. Maybe the coins did belong to this mysterious Jake who didn't exist. Oh, hell. He wasn't any closer to figuring out who'd shot Cassidy or where the gold fit in than the day she'd been found in the desert nearly two weeks earlier. The whole thing defied logic. Only now he had two arrows and a break-in along. Where one break-in happened, another was likely to occur. The thief wouldn't give up that easily. Something would happen and he had to keep Cassidy near him if he were going to protect her. The only way he was going to do that was to give her what she wanted—her Colt, her knife, her Winchester and Jake's gold. She wouldn't be put off any longer, but she couldn't leave without them. He stood and went to the safe. He couldn't think of a reason to stall. If anything had come over the fax today that had even hinted at where those coins had come from, he'd feel justified in keeping them locked in his safe, but nothing had. So he'd take the nonexistent gold that belonged to the nonexistent Jake back to the nonexistent Cassidy. He rubbed his temples. The whole thing gave him a headache. He smiled as he knelt in front of the safe. At least when he got home, he'd see Cassidy, nonexistent or not, and that would make him feel better. She'd be happy he'd done what he promised. He'd be happy to be in her company. He sighed. When had her company become so important to him? He decided it was about the time she stopped calling him an A-pach and he'd sneaked her out of the hospital, putting his whole career on the line. She'd snagged his heart and he hadn't even realized it.

He wouldn't have it any other way. **** Cassidy looked into the top part of the refrigerator where Jesse kept frozen food. She had to admit the freezer was a sight more convenient than having to salt meat to keep it from spoiling. She dug through the white, wrapped packages. Jesse had labeled each in black with what it contained. She pulled out one marked chops. That seemed to be something she could fix. The paper didn't want to peal away, stuck to the frozen meat. She'd fix that with another of Jesse's modern conveniences. Turning on the hot water in the sink, she dropped in the package. While the meat defrosted, she searched the cupboards for pans. Ma had only had a few, but Jesse seemed to own many. Some of them she hadn't the faintest notion what purpose they served, but she found a skillet and a pot. That would do. She could boil potatoes in the pot and fry the meat in the skillet. She'd never seen a shinier skillet. She wondered if it cooked as well as the cast iron ones her ma had used. It certainly didn't weigh near as much. She put the skillet on the stove and set to work peeling the potatoes. She hoped Jesse would be surprised and pleased. She didn't cook often, but Ma had taught her how. Every woman needed to know, or so her ma had said. It had held her in good stead. Many a time Cassidy had cooked over a fire and fine meals she could make—biscuits, meat and potatoes. Of course she liked best to go into town and eat at a restaurant. She treated herself to the luxury of being waited on whenever she had the money. Besides, the restaurant always had jam to go with the biscuits and nice brown gravy to put on the potatoes, plus she didn't have to wash the dishes. She poked at the meat and flipped over the package. The paper floated away from the edges and she tore it free. After getting a knife, she pried apart the chops and put more hot water in the sink. Tigger wrapped himself around her legs as she cut the potatoes. “Move. I can't pet you now. My hands are clean for cooking." He hopped up on the counter and studied what she did. She pushed him down with her shoulder. “Bad cat." Black Jack appeared at the door. He trotted over to her and put his paws up on the counter to peer at her potatoes. “Get down.” She shook her head and used her knee to shove the dog away. “I don't need any help cooking, guys." Black Jack gazed up at her with his big black eyes, looking mournful. “No handouts. Jesse says it'll make you sick and if I make you sick, he'll be mighty upset with me.” She turned to cut the potatoes then turned back. “Stop looking at me like that. It never worked for Storm and it won't work for you. I don't feel the least bit guilty.” She pointed to the corner. “Go lay down." She moved toward the stove. Tigger shot across her ankles and she grabbed for the sink to keep from falling. “I'm putting you outside if you don't behave.” Tigger curled up in the corner with Black Jack and washed Black Jack's ears. “You guys are in this together. I'm trying to show Jesse I can be of some help and you try to sabotage my efforts. I don't want him to think I don't have any womanly attributes.” She laughed. That was a first. She'd never cared if any man thought she could do anything female. With Jesse ... with Jesse, she felt different. She put her fingers to her lips and remembered his kisses. She liked when he touched her. She wished

he'd do it more often. One minute he seemed smitten with her; the next, standoffish. She shrugged her shoulders. She didn't have enough experience with courting to know what to expect. She liked the kissing, the touching and the sensation that ran through her body when he did those things. Maybe after she'd fixed him dinner, he'd be of a mind to kiss her again. Or maybe she'd have the courage to kiss him. “I'd best light the stove.” She opened the front and looked inside. The shininess of the stove confused her. She closed the door. Another, smaller door was beneath the first. Maybe the wood went in there. She opened it. It held a pan and a rack. Closing the second door, she reopened the first. “Has to go here,” she said to herself. “No other place exists. How does he get the stove so clean?” Ma had swept out the ashes after she cooked, but the inside of her stove had always been black from the fires. Jesse had cooked for her many times since she'd fallen into his world, but the stove showed no sign. She let the door bang closed. Maybe he cooked in the box he called a microwave. How he made the meals he did in that didn't make sense to her. She shrugged her shoulders. She had to light the stove. No way would she try to use the microwave. The buzzing and noise it made scared her, not to mention she had no notion how to start it. There had to be wood for the stove somewhere. She looked around the kitchen, opening all the bottom cupboards to see if he had the wood hidden. Everything about Jesse's place was neat, so it would make sense he'd keep the wood in a cupboard rather than in plain sight. No wood. She opened the back door and went out on the porch. Tigger and Black Jack stood instantly by her side. “All right, guys. Where'd he hide the wood?” She couldn't find a box holding any on the porch. She strolled down the stairs and looked around the yard. No wood. No stump for cutting wood. No ax. She went back and sat down on the steps. Tigger jumped into her lap and pushed his head against her chin. Black Jack leaned against her shoulder. “Now, guys, how am I to show him what a good cook I am if I can't get the stove lit?" Black Jack yipped. Tigger gave her a soft meow and pushed harder against her chin. Cassidy laughed. “What a bunch we make.” She scooped Tigger up and walked back into the kitchen. Depositing him on the floor, she went to the bathroom to wash her hands. Returning to the kitchen, she scraped the potatoes from the cutting board to the pot and filled it with water. Then she set it on the stove. If she couldn't get the stove lit, it would have to wait until Jesse got home. She'd have everything else ready. She dug through the cupboards until she found a bowl and the makings for biscuits. She mixed them up and put them on a metal sheet. Then she sat down at the kitchen table with a sigh. “Now what?" Black Jack came and leaned against her. Tigger jumped onto the table and she shoved him off. “Bad kitty. You aren't allowed on the table. You're trying to get me in trouble again." Tigger flipped his tail and went over to investigate his bowl. Cassidy heard Jesse's truck pull up. She shook her head. Dinner wasn't ready because she couldn't find the damn wood box and light the stove. She'd so wanted to surprise him.

He walked through the back door. Tigger wound around his feet. “I see one of the traitors has decided I'm okay.” He petted the cat. “Only because I wouldn't let him on the table.” Cassidy smiled at him. No one had the right to look that good in a uniform. She'd seen soldiers before, but none that could hold a candle to Jesse. His gray shirt stretched across his well muscled chest. A chest Cassidy wanted to touch. His britches hugged his thighs, outlining every muscle when he moved. She struggled to suppress the sigh building up deep inside her. Jesse walked over to her and brushed a kiss on her cheek. “What are you up to?" “I wanted to have dinner fixed for you when you got home." “That wasn't necessary. I'll fix it as soon as I change." “It isn't a bother. I wanted to surprise you. You've done so much for me and I do know how to cook." He glanced around the kitchen. “Wow, you made biscuits from scratch. I haven't had those for years." “It's nothing." “That's what you think.” He stopped, an eyebrow raised, looking at her. “What's the problem?" “I don't know where the wood is to start a fire in the stove.” She stood. “What?” Jesse's eyebrows drew together. “I can't get the stove lit because I can't find the...” Maybe the stove didn't take wood. She'd never thought of that. So many things had changed. Jesse stared at her. He walked over to the stove. “Surely you've seen a gas range before." She shook her head. “Not exactly.” She tipped her head to the side and squinted at him. Oh, Lordy. She wished everything in this century wasn't so complicated. He turned the knob on the front of the stove and a clicking noise came from the top. Then a poof and a flame appeared. Cassidy stared at the stove. “Wow.” She looked at Jesse and back at the stove. “Wow. No wood." Jesse's mouth fell open, then closed. He cleared his throat. “Woodstoves went out a long time ago." “Really?” She smiled at him. “This is so easy. Turn a knob and, wow, you've got fire.” She nodded her head. “Yep. A sight easier than chopping wood and lugging it.” He must think her crazy. She couldn't help it. The words had come from her mouth and she had no way to retrieve them and no way to explain them. “Cassidy?" “Yes?" “Where are you from?" “Mesa. Glendale. Lots of places.” She smiled and retrieved the chops from the sink. “I can manage now. Except the oven? For the biscuits."

“What do you want it set at?" “Set at?" “What temperature?" Oh, for heaven's sake. How would she know the answer to a question like that? Biscuits went into the oven, next to the fire. If she saw the fire, she'd know. She shrugged her shoulders. “I'm not sure." He punched some buttons. The stove beeped at her. “I guess four hundred should do." “I guess." He walked to Cassidy and ran his thumb down the side of her face. “You're the strangest woman I've ever met. I don't know where you come from, but sometime you're going to have to tell me. Someday I'll figure out why you don't know so much." Cassidy kissed him. She didn't want him dwelling on her lack of knowledge. That could be troublesome. She had to get his mind off such things. He pulled her close, his tongue searching for hers. She put her arms around his neck. To hell with dinner. She'd rather kiss Jesse. **** Cassidy lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. She hugged a pillow to her chest. Tigger plopped down on top of it and washed himself. Black Jack inched his way up and laid his head next to her. “Hey, guys,” she said softly. “What am I going to do?" Black Jack raised his head and stared at her. Tigger paused in his toilette and cocked his head to the side. They seemed to be hanging on her every word. She petted both of them. “You're such good friends. Jesse would have a fit if he knew you were in bed with me." She sighed. The time had come to make some decisions. Hard decisions. She couldn't stay with Jesse forever, hoping the world would right itself and she would know what to do. She had to make up her mind. Without Jesse's help, she'd never have survived thus far, and she still didn't understand many things. Everything was foreign. People still needed help working with horses and cattle. She knew how to break a horse. She might be small, but she did a right fine job of breaking horses. She'd made more than a little money at it over the years. She'd herded cattle. She'd thought about going to Colorado or California when she got back from Sonora. She could still strike out for one of those places. See what this century had to offer. She'd need money, though, unlike her world where she could get by when she didn't have a cent in her pocket. Now, everything had a price tag on it. She wouldn't just have to do without coffee and flour, but without eating. From what she'd seen, hunting for food was a pretty slim proposition. She needed an ID. Everyone talked about an ID. She wanted to ask Jesse how to get one, but something stopped her. She didn't have one and that bothered him a great deal. She'd have to come up with an explanation as to why she didn't have one and she couldn't think of a single plausible one. Not

one she'd even believe. Maybe David would know how she could obtain this mysterious ID she needed to exist in the world of the twenty-first century. Then she wouldn't arouse Jesse's suspicions any further. David. She hated to have to ask him. She didn't want to be alone with him, but she couldn't think of any other way to accomplish what she needed. She rubbed her hand across her lips, remembering the feel of his kiss. He'd taken her by surprise. Otherwise, she'd never have let him do that. If she'd had her knife, he wouldn't have. If Jesse hadn't driven up then, she didn't know what would have happened. She didn't like David touching her. It felt different than when Jesse touched her. Jesse made her feel warm and tingly all over. David's touch left her cold. If she were going to stay here, she would have to put aside her feelings about David and ask for his help. She didn't know anyone else she could ask. She had to have an ID. “Who do I trust, boy?” She sighed and rolled to her side, spilling Tigger on top of Black Jack. The cat bounded to the floor and back onto the bed to settle on her hip. He glared at her for a minute and went back to washing his face. She draped her arm around Black Jack's neck. She pictured Jesse in her mind. So tall and strong and he made her feel safe. She'd never been near anyone who made her feel safe since she'd lived with her parents and that safety had been shattered by an Apache attack. After that she only felt safe when she was in control, and most times she had kept her life in control.. She liked the feeling Jesse evoked in her. She liked knowing someone else would protect her, even if she didn't need to be protected. She'd been thinking lately she might want to settle down. If she did, it would be with a man like Jesse. One that made her feel safe. One that turned her insides to liquid and made her skin tingle. He smelled wonderful and tasted better. He fussed over her and took care of her. She remembered once when her mother had taken ill. Pa had fussed over Ma for days, bringing her tea and soup and washing her brow with a cold cloth. Her parents had loved each other very much. Did Jesse love her? That didn't seem likely. He hardly knew her. He took care of her because the mystery around her intrigued him and he wanted to know where that arrow came from. If he ever found out, he was due for one hell of a shock. She should strike out north again. She wouldn't have a horse to take, but then she guessed it wouldn't be the best way to travel in this time period. Most everyone had a car. A twinge tugged at her heart. She'd miss Jesse. She didn't quite know how or when, but he'd crept under her skin and into her heart. She liked being around him. Her Apache, the people she'd hated for years, but not this one. Did she love Jesse? She didn't know. She wasn't even sure what love felt like. She'd heard men talk about it in the saloon when they'd had too much to drink. They'd been besotted by some woman who wouldn't give them the time of day and they complained of stomach ailments and feeling right poorly. They'd have a hang-dog look about them and drink more than usual.

She didn't feel any of those things. Jesse made the world a little brighter every time he stepped into it. Her heart beat a little faster when she heard his voice. A shiver of anticipation ran through her when he came close and she'd hope he'd kiss her again. No. She didn't feel any of those nasty things men in saloons talked about when she was near Jesse. Would she feel them if she left? Probably. This world would seem even stranger if he weren't in it to guide her. She'd miss his touches and his kisses. She'd miss being near him. If she had to leave him, could she return to her world where she belonged? She didn't know. She wished she did. She suspected she loved Jesse. **** “It's a beautiful day. Let's go on a picnic.” Jesse looked out the front door across the desert. “That sounds like fun.” Cassidy stepped over beside him. “Where shall we go?" He put his arm around her. “Back to the place we rode to the other day." She remembered the little bit of green and a stream of sorts that bubbled a bit of water. It did seem the prettiest place about. “I'm ready to go." “Good.” He brushed a strand of hair back from her face. “I'll go pack a basket." A shiver ran through her. “I could saddle the horses while you do that.” She smiled. She ought to be the one packing the basket and he should be saddling the horses, but then, she wouldn't have the faintest idea what to put in a basket to picnic with a beau. She'd never been on one. Then again, she'd never had a beau. “Let's take the truck. I don't feel like riding.” He moved toward the kitchen. Cassidy trailed after him, feeling useless again. She'd never cottoned much to women's work, not since she was twelve. She leaned against the counter. “What're you going to pack?" Jesse pulled down a wicker basket from the cupboard and set it on the counter. From a rack he took a bottle of wine, looked at it and put it back. “Pepsi okay to drink?" “Sure.” Pepsi was always okay to drink. Pepsi was her favorite thing she'd discovered in this era—right after Jesse, that is. Jesse opened the refrigerator and bent down. “How about some cheese, some bread, some mustard? Pickles?” He held up the jar. Cassidy nodded her head. “Why don't you get some apples out of the cupboard and I have some Ding Dongs we can have for desert."

“I love Ding Dongs.” The food was a great deal better here than at home. Some of the sweets were nigh onto sinful. Jesse filled the basket and took her arm. “Shall we away, my lady?” He gave her a slight bow. Cassidy giggled, but took his arm to walk to the truck, Black Jack at her heels. She let Jesse's warmth seep into her and fill her. She still had a few days before she had to make a definite decision about what she would do with the rest of her life. She'd use that time to fill her heart with memories of this man. She couldn't take much more than a couple of days, though. She had the coins back and her weapons. Her back was close to healed and most of her strength had returned. She couldn't justify letting him care for her much longer. For a couple of more days. He stopped the truck by the trickle of water. She grabbed the blanket while Jesse got the basket. Black Jack jumped out of the truck bed and sat on the grass while Jesse helped her spread out the blanket. She sat, cross-legged, pulling things from the basket. She sliced the cheese and put it on a plate with the bread. Black Jack laid his head on the edge of the blanket and inched his way toward the food. “Get back. Bad dog,” Jesse said. Black Jack put his head down and put his paws over his nose. Cassidy petted Black Jack's head. “He wants to join us." Jesse laughed. “He's begging food. He wants you to feel sorry for him." “A little piece of cheese can't hurt him." “He'd rather have a Ding Dong, but those aren't good for him.” Jesse took a slice of cheese and a piece of bread. “You behave yourself, boy." She watched Jesse. She never thought she'd say an Apache was handsome, but this man was more handsome than any man she'd ever met. The sun glinted off his black hair and his dark eyes sparkled when he looked at her. She wanted to touch his face. She wanted him to kiss her. “What are you thinking about?” He smiled at her. The heat rushed up her face. “Nothing." He laughed. “Naughty thoughts." “No.” What did he mean? “Just ... just how handsome you look lounging on the blanket." “Oh.” His face flushed red. “Why do you go by the name of Cassidy when Cassandra is such a lovely name?" “A woman's name.” She picked up a piece of cheese and nibbled at it. Suddenly she wasn't very hungry. Not for cheese. She wished he'd kiss her. “Belonging to a beautiful woman. You should be proud of such a name." “It speaks of softness and needs.” Cassandra had needed people and help, but there hadn't been any. She couldn't explain that to Jesse. She couldn't explain how she'd become Cassidy because Cassidy

could survive. Cassandra never would have. “Women are supposed to be soft. That's what men like.” He took another piece of bread and squirted mustard on it. “Men that take advantage and hurt.” She didn't want to remember the first two years without her parents. She wanted to enjoy the picnic and Jesse's company before both were gone. He studied her face for a moment, then bit into his sandwich. “I like the name Cassandra.” He sat up. “Have you thought about what you want to do with the rest of your life?" “I've been thinking on it.” She smiled at him, forcing the smile. Already he dropped hints about her leaving and getting out of his way. “I won't be staying much longer. I'm much better and it's about time for me to move on." Jesse set his sandwich on the plate. “That's not what I meant, Cassandra.” He took her hand. “I figured you wouldn't want to just hang out. You don't seem the type. You seem to want to do something." “I'm used to working. Been doing it since I was twelve in one way or another. Had to eat." “I had odd jobs when I was young, too. I had parents that needed help. If I wanted something, I had to earn the money myself." She nodded. She didn't want to discuss her parents. Leaving him pulled enough at her heart. She couldn't bear thinking of other sadness. He scooted closer to her. “I thought you might like to find a job. Charlene probably would let you work part-time for her while we get your identification problem solved." “I don't know anything about selling women's things." “You don't need to.” Jesse laughed. “The women know what they want when they come to Charlene's, and if they don't, she does.” He wrapped his arm around her. “I don't want you to feel any pressure about going to work. You probably still need to rest. You can't be completely healed.” He kissed her cheek. “If you're getting house bound and want to be out a few hours a day, then I'll ask Charlene about you helping." She put her finger to his mouth and leaned her head against his shoulder. She let the tingles race through her. She wanted to absorb the moment. “I'm rambling, huh?" “Yep." “I don't want you to think you're a prisoner in my house. Nor do I want you to think I'm trying to get rid of you.” He brushed his lips against her cheek. “I want you to be happy." Cassidy wasn't sure what happiness was. When she'd been little, she'd been happy with her parents. Since then, she wasn't sure. There had been moments where her life had made her content, but happy? “I'm not sure what I want to do. I wouldn't be much help to Charlene though." When he kissed her she felt something she'd never felt before. Her body went all warm and mushy. She didn't want him to stop ... ever. Was that happiness?

CHAPTER 10 As if Jesse had read her mind, he kissed her. She returned the kiss, her tongue exploring his lips and mouth. A shiver ran through her and deep inside she melted. She brushed the side of his face. His skin had a rugged feeling, a feeling of power. His hand caressed her back, stopping at her bottom and pulling her close to him. Every contour of his body pressed against hers and she felt his desire. She let her hand drop to his shoulder as he gently squeezed her bottom. He kissed her on the neck and she arched her head to give him better access. He nibbled at her earlobe and her whole body seemed to give one big shiver. Laying her back in his arms, he continued kissing down her neck until he came to the top of her shirt. While he nibbled at her bare flesh, he unfastened the first button. Cassidy glanced down. He peeked up at her as he kissed her, burning her flesh with his lips. Her mind swirled as her body absorbed the waves of heat that raced through her with his touches. He continued to unbutton her shirt until he had opened it all the way to her jeans. The heat within her built to an unbearable level. She thought she would melt into her clothing and become nothing more than a puddle. She touched his arm. “You're so beautiful, Cassandra. So beautiful.” Jesse's voice was husky. He pulled her shirt back and exposed one breast. Cassidy gasped. She wanted to grab her shirt and cover herself. No man before had seen her without clothes. Jesse rubbed his cheek against the side of her breast and she gasped. He planted kisses all the way around it and she dug her fingers into the blanket. Jesse flicked his tongue across her nipple and she bit back a scream. Part of her mind told her to stop him. She wasn't the type of woman who allowed a man to take liberties. Her body screamed for more. He sucked at her nipple and she pressed her breast against him. He pulled back and stared at her. Again she wanted to cover herself. “God, you're gorgeous.” He smiled at her. Heat suffused her face. She pulled him up to her and kissed him. She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tight. “I want you, Cassandra,” he whispered against her mouth. She pulled back and looked at him. She wanted him. She wanted the feelings within her to never stop. She wanted him to respect her. She edged her shirt closed and laid her head on his shoulder. If he asked she wouldn't be able to say no. She didn't want him to ask. She wanted him to ask. Jesse kissed her on the cheek, then nuzzled her ear. Black Jack barked. The sound of a car engine came from the road. “This probably isn't the best place, however. People do show up here often.” He smiled at her. “I still want you." She looked into his dark eyes. Desire showed in them. Probably reflecting the desire in hers. “I want you too.” She sighed. She'd never talked with a man like this. She'd never been held by a man. She didn't know what to say."

“You want me to what?” He brushed her hair from her face. “Respect me.” Her voice came barely above a whisper. He looked at her with a question in his eyes. For a moment he was silent. “Why wouldn't I?" **** David watched Jesse's truck pull away. Cassidy and Black Jack were with him. He pulled his truck from behind the hedge and eased it toward Jesse's place. His house being the last on the street helped. Jesse had bought it because it was concealed from prying eyes. David parked his truck around back between the house and the stable. He didn't want anyone to notice him on the property. Not that they'd think it unusual, but later, he didn't want any one remembering him being here. He slipped his key into the back door lock and opened the door. Tigger meowed. David petted the cat. “Hungry, boy?” He placed a handful of cat food into the bowl. “That was mean of them to take the dog and not even feed you before they left." Tigger brushed against David's leg, then went to his bowl. David looked around the kitchen. This didn't seem like the place Cassidy would hide her gold. Probably in her bedroom. Or did she share Jesse's bedroom? A sharpness hit his stomach. He didn't like the idea of her sharing a bed with Jesse. If he couldn't find the gold, it would make it that much harder to convince her to leave with him. He shook his head and laughed. It didn't matter. He'd convinced her to get the gold from Jesse and now he could take it. This house didn't have any really good hiding places. He looked in the first guest bedroom. The bed was neat with no clutter on the dresser. He went to the next room. The comforter was folded back so the blue blanket showed. The pillows were piled up on the bed as though someone had been leaning against the oak headboard. A bottle of perfume and a hairbrush sat on the top of the matching dresser. Cassidy's Colt lay on the nightstand, snug in its holster. This time he'd be neat. He'd put everything back the way he found it so no one would discover right away that the gold was missing. That would give him more time to figure out the next part of his plan. He lifted the mattress and searched between it and the box spring. Naw. The gold coins were too bulky unless she spread them out one by one. He knelt down on the floor and looked under the bed. Dust bunnies. Lots of dust bunnies. Obviously Jesse didn't get under the furniture when he cleaned, but then who did? The dust bunnies hadn't been disturbed. He crawled around the room, sticking his hands under the furniture. Nothing. He sat back on his knees. The closet. Of course. He stood and slid the door back. Extra bedding was neatly folded on the top shelf. He looked under each piece. Damn. Only a few clothes hung in the closet, and none of them would conceal the coins. He started through the dresser drawers, one at a time. Except for one, they were empty. Cassidy didn't have many clothes for a woman. He stood in the middle of the floor and turned, examining every section of the room. The blue cotton curtains weren't long enough or heavy enough to hide anything. What he wanted wasn't in this room. It had been rather an obvious hiding place. Cassidy would probably be smarter than that. But where? He went into the empty bedroom and searched. Maybe Jesse's room. Maybe he'd insisted so he'd be

close to the gold. He could be the protector. That had to be it. David entered Jesse's room. He'd never been in it before now. He'd been in the house innumerable times, but never the master bedroom. A door opened off to the right to the bathroom. Jesse had a king-size bed that took up the center of the room. The sheets were tumbled as though he'd jumped from bed. A stone carving of an elk stood on the dresser. The nightstand held a bear. Groups of photographs hung on the wall. David went from one group to another, examining them. One group showed Jesse receiving some medal while he was in the FBI. Another was a picture of Jesse and the mayor of Apache Creek. Above the elk hung pictures of Jesse's grandfather, father and mother. Jesse's life. Jesse wouldn't add the gold to that life. The gold belonged to David. Cassidy didn't need it. Jesse would take care of her. Besides he still might have Cassidy, too. She'd get tired of Jesse's overbearing, self-righteous ways. She'd be glad to go with him. He wouldn't tell her where his money had come from. He'd be glad to spend some of it on her. For another kiss, he'd spend a lot of money on her. She'd tasted so good, although she hadn't been real receptive. Probably because she'd heard Jesse's truck and she felt like she owed the man. Jesse made people feel they owed him something. David didn't. Jesse had always gotten everything. This time, David would get what he deserved—the gold. Carefully and systematically he searched Jesse's room. The man owned more clothes than any one person could ever wear. He had seven pairs of boots alone, all of them with silver tips on the toes. What on earth would a man do with that many boots? David could see owning two—one pair for mucking around in, and one for dressing up and going out with the women, but seven? He shook his head. David sagged against the door. No gold. Maybe Jesse's office. He moved through the house and searched the office. Jesse had mounted his awards and more pictures of his FBI days and his family. David searched the desk and the file cabinet. He got on the floor and searched under the credenza. He looked for a safe behind the one large picture of an elk. Nothing. His stomach churned. The gold had to be in this house somewhere. Jesse had brought it home. He'd seen Cassidy's Colt on the nightstand and her Winchester behind her door. Besides, he'd been watching when Jesse came out of the sheriff's office with the bag that held the gold. It had to be here. Unless he'd brought the bag and not the gold to throw him off track. Even so, he should be able to find the bag. He only had the kitchen and the living room left. He quickly searched them. He didn't know how much longer Jesse and Cassidy would be gone. He clenched his hands into fists and his stomach tightened. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Jesse would not get the best of him again. He wouldn't let it happen. He took in a deep breath. Where else could they have hidden the gold? The tack room. Of course. Why hadn't he thought of that before? He stepped onto the back porch and ran across to the stable. The place was spotless. No dust bunnies would dare live here. A slow laugh erupted from David. Jesse cared more for the damn horses than he did the humans around him. He checked the bags of oats and examined the bales of hay. He searched everything in the tack room. He moved to the horses and looked into the stalls. No places existed within the stalls to hide

anything. The mare whinnied at him as he stepped up to her stall. “Hi, there, Doba.” He scratched between her eyes. “You see them hide those coins, girl?" He walked toward the empty stall. The big gray snorted and kicked at the fence. David moved back. He couldn't understand why Jesse kept the animal. He was a killer. He walked out into the sunlight. Somehow it didn't seem as bright as when he'd parked his truck. He looked toward the road. He couldn't see or hear Jesse's truck. Not that it mattered. He could say he'd come to visit. They'd never know the difference. He shook. The gold coins had to be here somewhere. Unless ... unless they'd taken them with them. Why did they have to do that? They should have left them so he could find them. He deserved them for all the bad luck he'd had. Clenching his fists, he stomped back to the house and into the kitchen. He grabbed things and threw them on the floor. He moved into the living room and pulled pictures from the walls and overturned furniture. He breathed faster and his heart pounded. He laughed as he reached Cassidy's bedroom and pulled out the dresser drawers. By the time he reached Jesse's room, a sense of euphoria filled him. This is better than sex, he thought as he smashed the picture of Jesse's grandfather. Much better. He stalked to his truck and grabbed an arrow from behind the seat. Grasping it, he brought it down on his knee, splintering the shaft. He went back to the living room and drove the arrow head into Jesse's recliner. He smiled to himself. They should have left the gold here. Maybe this time they'd get the message. Someone wanted the gold and that someone wouldn't be dissuaded. He wouldn't let Jesse get the best of him. Not this time. **** Jesse parked around back and Cassidy hopped out of the truck. He grabbed the picnic basket as Black Jack bounded over the side and stood beside her. Ever since she'd arrived, that turn-coat dog had been at her side. At least he'd protect her—with his life. As would Jesse. “I want to go and check on the gray. Give him a treat.” She turned toward the stable. “I feel guilty ‘cuz I haven't taken him for a ride today." “You should never feel guilty when it comes to that beast. He's lucky to have you.” He put the basket down and followed her. It amazed him the way the stallion reacted to her. “You can go in the house. I'll be fine.” She smiled at him before she disappeared. He stepped into the darkness of the barn right behind her. Something prickled at the back of his neck and he searched the shadows for anything unusual. Not seeing anything, he stepped quietly to the tack room. It looked the same as always. “I need to feed the horses anyway." “I'll help,” Cassidy called from the gray's stall. The horse stood quietly while she scratched him. “Tomorrow for sure. Tomorrow I'll take you out riding. Okay, boy?"

The horse nodded and Jesse shrugged his shoulders. It was the damnedest thing he'd ever seen. He broke off a flake from the bale of hay and reached over the stall door to drop it into Cesar's feed bin. Cassidy fed the gray, then the mare and they met in the middle of the stalls. “See how much faster it goes with two.” She smiled at him. “Much.” He kissed her quickly. “Thanks for the help." She stared at him for a moment. Then she pulled his face down, kissing him soundly. “You're sure you'll respect me?" He laughed, picked her up and twirled her around. “Don't worry yourself about it." The gray whinnied. Black Jack barked. Jesse shot both of them a glare. “You have to share." “I do worry about it. It's something women worry about." “Not the women I know, but believe me, I respect you.” He looked into her eyes. She was deadly serious. He wrapped his arm around her and led her toward the house. “Cassandra, I find you a fascinating, if not unusual, woman and, yes, I want to take you to my bed. I'd be lying if I said otherwise. Any man in his right mind would be lying if he said otherwise. I'd never force myself on you. When you make the decision you want to sleep with me, it won't affect how I feel about you." “It does most men." He stopped and looked into her face. “Men stopped expecting women of your age to be virgins a long time ago. We all have our pasts. It's part of who we are. We bring them with us. It doesn't mean we're less." “But to ... to do that. My reputation would be gone. Then no man would want me for a wife." He laughed. “God, you're delightful. No man's going to care you've been with another man.” He gave her a serious look. “However, if you've been with more than one, I wouldn't mention how many. Some men's egos wouldn't like it much to find out they were number fifteen on the hit parade." She stared at him, her eyes getting wider and wider. “Fifteen men. Oh, my goodness. Only sa ... wh ... Oh, my goodness.” Her face flushed red. Jesse couldn't hold back the laugh. He hugged her, then opened the back door. He froze. She took a step forward. He grabbed her and shoved her back on the porch. “Get to the stable and stay with the gray.” He crouched. “Tigger, come here, Tigger,” he whispered. The cat pushed open the cupboard door under the sink and picked his way across the kitchen to Jesse. He grabbed the cat and petted him. “Good boy.” Jesse rubbed his face against the cat's head, then placed him outside. Tigger meowed loudly and fixed Jesse with a look that said how unhappy he was. Jesse pushed him with his foot. “Go. Find Cassidy." Jesse turned back to the kitchen and crept forward, wishing his automatic hung on his hip. He stepped past the broken dishes and into the living room. He cocked his head to the side and listened. He found the phone and called his deputy. Then he crept back toward the porch.

Cassidy stood right where he'd left her. “I told you to get to the stable." “And leave you alone to be hurt?” She shook her head, holding Tigger in her arms. “I don't think so." He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her behind the truck. “We'll wait for my deputies and my piece." “Do you think someone's in there?” She peeked over the bed of the truck as she crouched down. “I'd hate for them to take my Colt." Jesse stared at her. His house was trashed and she could only think of her Colt. Of course, she didn't have much else. From what he could see, everything he owned had been destroyed. All he had worked for over the years, destroyed. Smashed into pieces. All because of her damn gold coins and her having to have custody of them. “Stay down until we're sure. I didn't hear anything, but I'm not going in unarmed,” he snapped. Two sheriff's cars pulled up and Bill and Stan bailed out. Jesse ran over to them, crouching as he went. He got a shotgun from one of the patrol cars. Handing Stan his keys, he said, “Go in the front. I'll go in through the kitchen. The bedrooms are in the back, so be careful." “Right, boss.” Stan moved quickly to the porch with Bill behind him. He opened the door while Jesse ran back to the kitchen door. Holding the shotgun flat against his chest, Jesse entered the kitchen, held out the gun and swept the room with his gaze. He moved into the living room where the other two men stood. He tiptoed to his office door and stood to the side. In a quick movement he entered the doorway, the shotgun at ready. The room was empty. He turned and motioned for Bill and Stan to follow him. He pointed Stan toward the empty bedroom, Bill toward Cassidy's and he went down the hall toward his. He kicked open the door to the bathroom on his way, aiming the gun at the back wall. Entering his bedroom last, his gut wrenched. His pictures were smashed. His elk statue lay in a million pieces on the floor. He hunkered down and picked up a piece. Who would destroy a man's things? What reason could he have? It was senseless destruction ... nothing else. “All clear, boss,” yelled Bill. Jesse stood. He'd left the FBI because of the crazies he always seemed to be chasing. There had come a point where he no longer could be certain he wasn't as crazy as they were. It wasn't like that here in Apache Creek. There might be a drunk on Saturday night breaking up a bar. Several drunks. A robbery now and then because so much poverty existed in the area, but not once since he'd returned to Apache Creek had there been anything like this. He walked back to the hall. “Call the state and get their forensics team out here again. We're keeping them pretty busy this week.” He sagged against the wall. They were only possessions—belongings that could be replaced. They were his belongings. All of them held memories. He didn't much like the idea of some crazy coming into his house and tearing up his memories. He'd brought Cassidy here because he'd thought she'd be safe. Now he wasn't certain. Cassidy and the gold. He started down the hallway.

“Hey, boss, come look at this,” Stan called from the living room. Jesse walked over to him. Stan pointed to a broken arrow sticking out of his recliner. “Damn. I shouldn't have listened to her.” His fingers curled around the barrel of the shotgun. If he'd left the coins in the safe, none of this would have happened. “Don't touch anything until forensics gets here.” He stomped toward the back door, stepping on the broken china in the kitchen, listening to it crunch under his boots. Cassidy leaned against the truck. He glared as he strode toward her. “How bad is it?” She crossed her arms in front of her. “A total wreck." “I'm so sorry.” She reached out a hand to him and then let it drop to her side. Slowly, he laid the shotgun in the back of the truck. “They tore up everything looking for something.” His memories lay smashed on the floor because of her gold. Ever since she'd come into his life, strange things had happened. His life had been disrupted. Until now, he hadn't minded the disruption. Cassidy had added something that had been missing from his life. Now everything lay in ruins. She looked up at him, then shifted slightly. “What do you suppose they were looking for?” he asked. “Money. Stuff to sell. What robbers usually look for.” Her eyebrows pulled together. Then her eyes got wide. “Oh, my goodness, the gold coins.” She laid her hand on his arm. He jerked away from her. “That damn gold. If I'd left it in the safe, this wouldn't have happened." “Jesse, I never dreamed anyone would do something like this. It's only twenty-five thousand dollars. That doesn't seem to be all that much money.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “I'm so sorry. I'll get a job and pay for the damage. It'll take me a while, but, oh, Jesse, I'm so sorry. I ... I..." He put his hand on her shoulder, then pulled her to him. “I'm sorry. It's just everything that meant something to me is destroyed. Some things can't be replaced.” He pushed her back. “You don't understand about the coins, do you?” How could she not know what they were worth? “They're twenty-dollar gold pieces. You spend them for things you want. Jake got a lot because Senor Rodriguez liked gold coins instead of paper money.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I've seen what things cost here in Apache Creek, and twenty-five thousand doesn't seem all that much money." “Those coins are worth a fortune." She shook her head. “I don't understand." “Where have you been all your life?” Jesse snapped. She looked puzzled. “Around." “Those twenty-dollar gold pieces are worth about a thousand dollars a piece." Her mouth fell open. She closed it, then opened it, then closed it. She shook her head. Her hand went to her throat. “Really?” she croaked. She tried to clear her throat. “No.” She shook her head. “That's

crazy." “No, Cassandra, it isn't. Someone wanted those coins.” He studied her face. She really didn't seem to know what they were worth. She had to, didn't she? She continued to stare at him. “Wow! Would Jake be surprised." “What are you talking about?" She shook her head again. “I don't know.” She waved her hands in the air. “All this is too much and none of it makes any sense. I feel terrible about what happened to your things. I never would've insisted you give me back the gold if I had any idea this would happen. You should've said something.” She let her hands fall to her sides. “I don't know what to do to make it right." “It can't be made right. Some things can't." “I know that.” She sighed and leaned against the truck. “I'll help you clean up. Then I'll find some place else to stay. I've caused enough trouble." He wanted to strangle her. He wanted to hug her. He didn't know which he wanted to do more. She had no idea what she had set in motion. He wasn't exactly sure either, but she was clueless. And helpless, no matter what she thought. “I don't want you to go. You're welcome to stay here as long as you need. The damage is already done.” He picked up the shotgun. “We can't clean up until the forensics team is done, so I'll have Bill and Stan stay and we can go to the diner for dinner.” He needed to put some space between himself and the mess in his house. He walked over to his deputies. “I have to put a report out on the stolen gold first." “The gold's not stolen." Jesse swirled and stared at Cassidy. “What do you mean, the gold's not stolen? The thief didn't leave a thing unturned in the house. He had to have found it." “He didn't." “How would you know? You haven't been in the house." Cassidy looked at him and shrugged. “I don't have to go in the house. The gold is safe where I left it." “Where is that?" She didn't even blink when she stared back at him. “Where it's safe." CHAPTER 11 “Thanks for helping clean up the mess, Grandfather.” Jesse pulled his truck to a stop in front of Tall Tree's house. “I needed all the hands I could get so we could even have a place to sleep tonight." “Glad to.” Tall Trees laid a hand on Jesse's sleeve. “I'm sorry this happened." Jesse looked at his grandfather for a minute, then shrugged. “It happened. Not much I can do about it now. Moving the gold was a bad idea." “Move the gold or not, something would've happened.” Tall Trees opened the door and climbed out of the truck. “Want to come in for a cup of coffee?"

Jesse hesitated. Bill and Stan were with Cassidy so she should be safe. “Yeah. For a few minutes.” He followed the old man into the house and into the kitchen. Tall Trees threw wood onto the embers in his stove and set about making a pot of coffee. “Cassidy would be right at home in your place." Tall Trees looked at him. “Why is that?" “She tried to put wood in my stove. Luckily, I didn't have any or I don't know what damage she'd have done. It would never be the same after that." Tall Trees laughed. “She'd have made a nice mess." “After tonight, it doesn't much matter.” Jesse pulled out a chair and sat at the kitchen table. He traced the geometric pattern in the vinyl tablecloth. He'd lost so many of his belongings. Things he could never replace. At least the pictures of his family weren't damaged. Only the glass had been smashed. Tall Trees sat opposite Jesse. “You worry too much about what you have. The owning is only for a short time." “It took me so long to get what I really wanted." “Are you sure?" Jesse looked at his grandfather. The old man smiled at him. “Yes, I'm sure.” Jesse folded his hands on top of the table. “When I was little, we never had anything. Mom and Pop always struggled. They never had enough money." “You ate and had clothes, didn't you?” Tall Trees stood and poured them each a cup of coffee. Jesse took a sip. “Of course." “Then you had what you needed.” Tall Trees pulled a cigar from his pocket and lit it. “You didn't have what you wanted. That's the difference." “I wanted what the other boys had. I wanted a new bike and new skates and an Atari.” Jesse laughed. “I wanted a lot." “Yes, grandson, you wanted a lot. You always did.” Tall Trees laughed. “It's all right to want, if you're willing to work for what you want." “I wanted to fit in more than anything else." Tall Trees patted Jesse's hand. “Of course you did. All children do.” He laughed softly. “You were a might angry about moving away from here. That caused most of your problems." Jesse sighed. “When I lived on the reservation, the only thing I wanted was my horse and time to go riding. I didn't know any better until we moved." “That first day at school in Mesa didn't do your fitting in any good at all.” Tall Trees took a drag on his cigar. “You did me proud. Don't ever tell your parents I said that. They were ready to kill you." “Can't say as I blame them. I shouldn't have drawn a knife and threatened that kid.” Jesse wrapped his hands around his cup. A coldness had crept into him and he tried to warm it away. Who hated him

enough to destroy everything he owned? He looked up at his grandfather. “He shouldn't have tried to pulverize me." “Your parents couldn't believe you had actually carried your knife to school with you. They didn't understand that you'd carried it with you since I gave it to you when you were seven.” He sipped at his coffee. “Out here, you needed a knife. You might run into a rattlesnake or catch a rabbit for dinner. How were you to know the city would be different?" Jesse laughed. “I didn't. I thought everyone carried a knife.” He looked into his grandfather's eyes. The dark black pools seemed endless. Grandfather knew something. Something he wasn't telling him. He could ask straight out, but Grandfather never answered those types of questions. He glanced down at the tablecloth and touched a brownish stain left from a coffee spill. “That's how Cassidy feels, isn't it?” He glanced up at his grandfather. “Uneasy without her knife in her boot?” Tall Trees nodded his head. “Yep. She's like you were at ten. She doesn't understand why she can't carry a knife. Doesn't everyone?" “Why is she like that, Grandfather?” Jesse laid his hand on his grandfather's. “Why? You know. So please tell me." Tall Trees stared into Jesse's eyes for a long time, then picked up his coffee cup. “The telling will come from her when she's ready." “I need to know. How am I to protect her if I don't know what I'm looking for?" Tall Trees smiled. “No attempts have been made on her. Only her coins." “That doesn't mean an attempt won't be made. This guy is angry. He'll stop at nothing to get what he wants." Tall Trees nodded his head. “Probably." “Then what do I do?" “Stop him." “I can't. I can't find anything to stop him.” Jesse leaned back in the chair. “I've run forensic evidence through the state police. Everything comes back useless. The only fingerprints I've found belong to those who are in the places all the time. I've got your fingerprints, mine, David's, Charlene's, my deputies. Nothing useful. I'm sure the same will happen with my house." “Then look beyond the forensics." “To what? I need facts." “Maybe you've been relying on facts too long." Jesse studied his grandfather for a moment. “That's what I know." “You know more than that. I taught you more." “I stopped believing in your stories when we moved to Mesa. They didn't work there. They don't work now."

“You didn't give them a chance then. You aren't giving them a chance now." “Grandfather, no magic exists in the world. Facts, fingerprints, clues, evidence are the things that exist. Those are the things that put criminals behind bars." Tall Trees smiled one of his knowing smiles. “You resist looking beyond the facts.” He laughed. “In this case, you don't look at all. Because you have no facts to look beyond, you struggle to find facts. They are like the things you collect. You want them. You don't need them." Jesse stood up and poured himself another cup of coffee. “You're wrong. I need facts. I've never solved a case without them." “Then maybe it's time you tried." He couldn't. His whole world was based on facts and evidence. Without it, he had nothing. What he had right now, though, was nothing. “I have the arrows. They have to mean something." “Someone is going to a great deal of trouble.” Tall Trees relit his cigar. “Arrows are a nuisance and so inaccurate. Any smart thief would use a gun and be done with it." Jesse had to laugh. “Some Indian you are." Tall Trees laughed. “I used arrows when I was a boy. I had fun trying to make them and shoot something with them. They broke or got lost and I'd spent a lot of work on them. They weren't worth it.” A big smile crossed his face. “When my father bought me my first rifle, I put the arrows away and never got them out again." “Still, the arrows have to mean something. I've collected three of them." Tall Trees shrugged. “Look at them carefully. Things are not always as they seem." “Tell me what you know, Grandfather." “Your heart is not ready." “I need to know." “When you look into your heart, you'll know." “Then tell me the story you told Cassidy.” Jesse leaned his elbows on the table. “You are not ready to hear that tale." “Grandfather." The old man smiled. “I'm only telling you the truth." “When will I be ready to hear your story?” A twinge of jealousy raced through Jesse. Grandfather told Cassidy stories, but wouldn't share them with him. When he'd been little, Grandfather had told him all the stories. Why wouldn't he now? “When Cassidy tells me you're ready." How was Cassidy mixed up in this whole situation? Had she somehow pulled his grandfather into it? “What kind of a hold does she have on you?"

“None.” Tall Trees laid his cigar in the ashtray. “I knew the story long before I met Cassidy." “You chose to tell her and not me." “She needed to hear the story. You didn't." “I need to hear it. Maybe it will help me solve this crime wave before someone gets hurt." “It won't.” Tall Trees sipped his coffee. “It's a story of magic. You don't believe in the magic, so it won't help you." His grandfather had gone daft. He didn't know why he asked him anything. Except for the nagging in the back of his brain that told him something in that story was important. Something in that story would help him. “Damn it, Grandfather, I need help. Help before Cassidy or one of my other friends gets hurt.” He'd never had a case before without any clues or evidence. None of this seemed possible. “If you know something, tell me." “I can't tell you who left the arrow at your office or your home. It certainly is a puzzle why anyone would want to point a finger at our family. Not enough of us still live in this area to be a threat to anyone.” Tall Trees stared over Jesse's head for a moment. “I can't think of anyone who'd have a grudge against us.” He smiled. “We haven't been on the warpath or stolen any horses for over a hundred years." Jesse laughed. “I wish the whole thing was that simple." “It is, Jesse. You're looking for a thief. Nothing more." “A thief who leaves no clues." “Then look past the clues. Look into your heart." **** Cassidy stood up from the couch as Charlene came in the front door of Jesse's. The break-in had been a couple of days earlier and the house had been put right. Jesse had had to throw away many items and he hadn't replaced them yet. The house seemed roomier without all the clutter, but the openness seemed to make Jesse nervous. He prowled from room to room like a cougar looking for its next meal. Jesse had thought a day out shopping with Charlene was what Cassidy needed after all the trouble. He seemed to be trying to make up for the way he'd been acting. She'd tried to tell him she didn't need anything, but he insisted she needed more clothes and something called a bra, which he wasn't picking out for her. She thought he should spend his money on replacing his damaged belongings, but he didn't seem in any hurry to do that. She'd given up trying to figure out why he acted the way he did. The man seemed to need a mass of things around him to make him feel at ease, but he didn't rush out and buy new ones. “Well, girlfriend, are you ready to go?” Charlene tapped her foot against the floor. “I'm as ready as I'll ever be.” Cassidy slipped the hard card Jesse had given her into her pocket. He called it a credit card and said not to worry about how much she spent. She could repay him when they sold some of her gold coins. They weren't her gold coins. They belonged to Jake. She couldn't sell them, could she? Oh, hell. That

question belonged with the rest of the ones she'd been asking herself without finding any answers. “Then let's get going.” Charlene opened the screen door. “After we finish shopping, we can get some lunch at the diner. Wilma gets through at two and we can take in a movie.” She swung a large bag over her shoulder. “All right.” Cassidy had seen a movie on the television set. It had been strange to watch the pictures move and the tiny people move. She couldn't figure whythey'd want to take in such a thing. In to what? “You gonna bring your purse?" “I don't have one." “Then that goes on the list of necessities.” Charlene followed Cassidy out the door. “Now, Jesse said you were to have a couple of dresses and whatever else you wanted. He told me to make sure you got at least one real nice outfit. You might want something to wear when looking for a job." “I don't wear dresses. I don't go in much for fancy female trappings.” He was trying to make her into a lady. She'd never wanted to be one. She did want him to think she had some ladylike qualities, but she wouldn't dress up in all that folderol that women wore. She'd had a corset when she was little and remembered how binding it was and all those petticoats. Then again, Charlene didn't seem to have any of those things. Charlene's black skirt came only halfway to her knees. Her shirt was so tight it hugged her breasts and her stomach. Small sleeves were all that kept it up. The pink was so bright, the shirt could probably be seen on a moonless night. “I don't know why he's so insistent about me having more clothes. I've got two pairs of pants, several shirts and that black dress. No way can I pack all that in my saddle bags, if I had them, so buying anything else seems pure nonsense. I don't know what use I have for any more clothes." Charlene looked toward the sky and shook her head. “A woman never has too many clothes." Cassidy settled into the front seat of Charlene's car. As Charlene raced down the street toward town, Cassidy's stomach did a flip. She'd never get used to traveling at such speeds. She gripped the edge of the seat with both hands. “Relax, girlfriend. I haven't crashed yet.” Charlene glanced up in the mirror hanging between the two seats. “Though Jesse does get on me about my speed. He's threatened to give me a ticket a time or two.” She giggled. A twinge pulled at Cassidy's heart. She looked over at Charlene. David said Jesse and she were only friends, but did David speak the truth? Jesse and Charlene made a handsome couple and seemed so at ease with each other. However, the night they'd gone dancing, Jesse had been at her side, not Charlene's. Cassidy wished she had more knowledge about courting and how to treat beaux. What a silly thought. He wasn't her beau. He'd only taken her in because he had a crime to solve. He'd probably figured he'd have it solved by now and would be able to send her on her way. So far, he hadn't discovered anything. Grandfather hadn't told him her story. Cassidy wasn't about to bring up the subject. Jesse seemed to have a worried look on his face too often as it was. She didn't need to tell him where she came from. Not yet. Not until she knew if she could go back. Not until she was sure he wouldn't take her back to the hospital and let them lock her away. “You like Jesse."

“Oh, yeah. Jesse and I have been friends for years. We grew up together.” Charlene turned left and a car honked at her. She waved and kept going. “I moved here and he went off to college and the FBI. Then he moved here and the friendship started up like it never had stopped. I was one of the few who took Jesse the way he was, ornery and angry, and wouldn't let him take it out on me.” She patted Cassidy's leg. “He's a good man." “He's courting you?" Charlene laughed. “Girlfriend, you say the strangest things. Courting. Nobody courts anymore. Naw. We're just friends.” She looked over her left shoulder and changed lanes. “You know, I can't remember Jesse ever having a girlfriend. Must have sometime or other.” She shook her head. “Of course, he does seem to take a real big interest in you. It's something about the way he looks at you. I've never seen him look at a woman like that before." “Me?” Jesse couldn't feel anything for her, could he? She was nothing more than a problem he needed to solve. He was nothing more than someone who had helped her when she needed it. So why did her heart always beat a little faster when he was around? Why was the room always a little warmer? Why did she always feel a little safer? Why the hell did she want him to kiss her again? Since the break-in, he'd been as cold as a winter's night. So what had his kisses meant? He'd said he'd respect her, but now, she wasn't so sure. Had he been using her the way men used women? A pain shot through her heart. “Of course. You don't think the man takes in every person who gets hurt around here, do you?” She tapped her painted nails against the steering wheel as she waited for the car in front of her to move. “He's worried about your safety, but it's more than that. He wouldn't take you in if it weren't more than that." “I've caused him so much trouble.” Cassidy decided she'd best be making plans before she caused him more trouble. His life could be normal again without her in it. “You let Jesse worry about any trouble. That's what he does best. Besides, he likes a good fight." That didn't surprise Cassidy. Anger smoldered within him. Sometimes it came near the surface. Most of the time, it lay, waiting, way inside. “Do you have a beau?" Charlene laughed again. “Not at the moment. I've had me plenty of boyfriends, but none I'd want to spend the rest of my life with. I like being free and not answering to anyone, especially a man. Maybe someday I'll settle down and have me a kid or two, but not for a while yet, and not ‘til I find the right man.” She pulled the car into a parking place and turned the key. Quiet filled the car. **** It had been two days since he'd ransacked Jesse's house looking for those coins. He'd even been over to the house and helped put it back together, hoping the subject of the coins would come up and he'd garner some more information. Jesse had been in a foul mood and Cassidy had side-stepped him. It made David's heart sing to see the two of them at odds. No mention of the gold coins had been made. Nor had he seen any sign of Cassidy or Jesse with them or checking on them. He'd watched from a hilltop with his binoculars when they came home. They'd gone to the stable, probably fed the horses, come out, gone in the house, and then all hell had broken loose. No sign of the gold.

He had to get Cassidy to leave. She wouldn't go without the gold. The tension in the house would go a long way to getting her out of there. That and his newest idea. If she thought she were in danger in Apache Creek, she'd take the coins and be gone. It would be easy to follow her. She'd need someone on whom to lean. She'd be ready to come to him. He lay down on the rooftop of the bank and peered over the side of the building. Not too many people walked up and down Main Street today. That would work in his favor. He could put a scare into Cassidy and Jesse. Then Jesse would be forced to admit he couldn't protect Cassidy and she'd have to go elsewhere. Jesse would have failed. David smiled to himself. Yes, Jesse would have failed. It was Jesse's turn. He glanced at his watch. Charlene and Cassidy should be along any moment. He'd heard them discussing their shopping trip. He peeked over the edge of the building again. He saw Charlene when she pulled her car into a parking place in front of her store. He touched his bow and arrow. **** Charlene pushed open the door. “Let's go get you all decked out. Want to be sexy for the man." Cassidy sat for a second. She'd never before gotten decked out for a man. But she'd never been in the twenty-first century before either, so maybe the time had come to try some of those feminine frills in which women set such a store. As long as she didn't have to wear a corset. Or those things Jesse called panties. Probably, she'd be wasting her time. She climbed out of the car and followed Charlene. “This is my store.” Charlene smiled proudly as she pointed to the sign. In bright pink paint across the eaves was painted “Charlene's Boutique.” “I've got everything you need and then some. Except shoes. We'll have to go down the block for them." Cassidy smiled. Charlene seemed so sure of herself and happy. She was independent and didn't seem to mind she wasn't married and taken care of by a man. Cassidy hadn't met many women like her, but she liked her. They had a lot in common. They both could take care of themselves. She stepped around Charlene who held open the door. Something whizzed by her ear and thunked into the wall next to her. Charlene screamed. Cassidy jumped and looked to the side. An arrow quivered in the wood frame of the door. CHAPTER 12 Cassidy grabbed Charlene and shoved her to the ground. Crouching, she reached for her Colt as she turned to survey the street area. Her hand came away empty and she felt naked. She didn't even have her knife shoved in her boot. Jesse had made her promise to not carry her weapons, saying people didn't go around outfitted to the teeth. Damn him. How was she to protect herself? How was she to protect those caught in the crossfire? She pulled the arrow from the wood. Recognizing the markings, her stomach churned. Apache. From what Jesse said, nobody shot each other with arrows any more. She held it, arrowhead outward. It would work as well as a knife to defend herself and Charlene. On the top of the brick bank across the way, she saw a figure. The glare of the sun obscured most of her view, but she saw the outline of a bow. She pushed the door open. “Charlene, get inside. Now.” She followed, squatting and doing a backwards duck walk until she waddled through the door.

The shadow on the building had disappeared while she got Charlene inside. She wanted to investigate. She didn't much like having someone shooting at her. Getting an arrow in the back was a once in a lifetime experience, and she intended to keep it that way. Cassidy looked at Charlene, who was blubbering into the telephone. The little, red telephone Charlene held still fascinated Cassidy. To be able to carry that little box around to speak with people amazed her. No longer was a big box hung on a wall where she had to contact the operator to put through a call. Not that she'd ever used a telephone. She didn't understand it any more than she did flipping a switch at the door and having the lamps light. These things did make life a might easier. Charlene slumped against the bottom of the counter, tears streaking black make-up down her face. “Okay, Jesse. We're okay, but ... Oh, please hurry, Jesse. Yes, I'll keep her inside and lock the door. I'll keep me inside. That arrow came so close.” She punctuated her sentence with a sob. Keeping low, Cassidy moved over beside Charlene and put her arm around the woman. “It'll be right as rain. He missed us.” She smiled and hugged Charlene. Charlene closed the phone and let it drop into her lap. “How can you be so calm? Someone tried to kill you." “A mighty poor aim he was.” Thank goodness. Having to return to the hospital to have another arrow removed was not high on her wants in life. “He's gone for the moment." “Who knows when he'll return?” Charlene sobbed again and wiped at her eyes. “I can't believe you. Not so much as an out-of-place hair. You act like nothing happened." “Doesn't do any good to get ruffled in a situation like this one. If I'd panicked, he'd have gotten off another arrow, and that one might've found its mark." Charlene faced Cassidy. “You're a strange one, but in an emergency, you can be here to help me anytime.” She patted Cassidy's arm. “Jesse said to sit tight until he got here, but we're supposed to lock the front door." Cassidy laughed. “I'll get it.” After locking the door, she sat back by Charlene. “You have any Pepsi? I could really use one." “In the fridge in the back.” Charlene inclined her head. Cassidy, bent low, walked toward the back. “Want one?" “Yeah." A pounding sounded at the front door as Cassidy popped open her soda. “I just get myself settled and now the door needs answering.” She let out a slow breath as the pounding increased. “I'm getting tired of jumping up and down. Hold onto your breeches. We're getting there as fast as we can." “Are you okay?” Jesse's voice floated through the door. “We're fine.” Charlene jumped up and rushed to open it. Jesse pushed past her and scooped Cassidy into his arms. He looked deep into her eyes, then hugged her. “Are you sure you're okay?" She laughed. “Of course I'm fine. I'm sitting here, aren't I?” She tried to push him away. The heat from

his body surrounded her, making it hard to breath. Making it hard to think. “Did you see who did this?” He stood her up and looked her up and down as if only his eyes could tell him she truly was uninjured. “A man.” She took a long swig off her Pepsi. She peeked into the can. Every time she drank one, she marveled at the wonderful liquid. It bubbled and tickled her nose and her throat. It soothed her stomach and tasted wonderful. Jesse pulled up three chairs and sat in his backwards. “Charlene, did you see anything?" “Only that arrow sticking out of my doorway. Then Cassidy shoved me to the sidewalk." Jesse looked at Cassidy for a long time. “What exactly did you see?" “The shadow of a man with a bow on the roof across the way. The bank building.” She shivered as she remembered him notching another arrow and pointing it down at her. She'd known her cover was limited. “The minute I got Charlene inside, he disappeared." “Got any idea who he was?” Jesse folded his hands across the back of his chair. “Not even a bit of one." Jesse threw his hands in the air. “Cassidy, you have to have some idea of what's going on. People don't go around getting shot at with arrows. It isn't done anymore." She glared at him. “Now how would I know? I don't know anyone except the few people you've introduced me to.” She didn't like his attitude. How had it become her fault some loony was on the loose and wanted to go on the warpath? “You leave the poor girl alone.” Charlene stood and put her arm around Cassidy. “She's had a terrible scare." Jesse looked at the ceiling then back at the women. “Where's the arrow?" “On the floor.” Cassidy indicated it with her head. Jesse picked it up and examined it. Then he laid it on the counter. “You get a good look at it?" “Enough to know it's Apache. I was more concerned about having some type of weapon to defend myself than what the damn thing looked like." “It's very similar to the other one taken from your back.” He stared at her. “And the ones at the break-ins." “I never saw those. You've got them locked up.” She matched his stare. He might have Apache blood, and the temper that went with it. He might be the sheriff, but she wouldn't let him back her down. She wouldn't be bullied. She was the victim here, not the guilty party. “How the hell would I know who's after my coins?" His black eyes grew dark like a cloud before a storm. “Cassidy, it's time you told me what's going on. You have to know who wants the gold. They chased you across the desert. I can't help you if you won't tell me.” He paused and pressed his hands against the back of his chair. “Also, I can't have other people put in danger. Nor can I have something else happen to you."

“I didn't know I'd put anyone in danger, anymore than I considered they would come after you. I've never been in a situation like this before. I don't run right out and stick myself where I'm liable to be shot without taking into consideration the odds of my surviving.” Though she probably should have considered the odds a tad more before starting off for Sonora. One of her stupider moves in life. “I'll try to keep myself in one piece, not pierced by flying arrows. I wouldn't want to jeopardize your job.” She turned away from him. “Cassidy, I'm not concerned about my job.” He suddenly stood in front of her and she had to look up at him. “I'm concerned for your safety and Charlene's. Obviously, some lunatic is after you. You have to have an idea why. Two attempts have been made on your life. Three attempts have been made to steal the coins." “They're not all connected.” That much she knew for sure. Jesse's great-grandfather had wanted Storm. He'd shot her and gotten what he'd wanted. She'd gotten a nightmare filled with confusion. The man on the roof wanted her coins. He wouldn't get what he wanted. He'd gotten her dander up. He wouldn't best her. “They have to be connected. Four arrows with the same markings.” He twirled the chair around and sat in it properly, leaning closer to her. “It's too much of a coincidence not to be connected." She leaned in close to his face. His breath caressed her cheeks and the strange stirring he always caused started deep within her. She tried to push it down. “They aren't connected." “Cassidy, I've investigated everything I could. I even called in some favors.” He put his hands on her knees. “I can't find out anything. Not about you or any lunatic with a bow and arrow. You've got to help me." “I can't." “Can't or won't?" “Can't. I don't know anything.” Not anything that made sense. Sure, she could tell him Tall Trees’ story. He'd believe that. Right. She looked into his eyes. He wasn't going to believe his great-grandfather Limping Hawk had shot her for her horse. Then she fell into a devil wind and now someone else was after her. Maybe Limping Hawk had come back to finish her off since he could never ride the horse he'd stolen. She started to laugh. It came from deep within and she couldn't stop it, even though it sounded like the wind whipping through the trees just before a storm. She tried to take in a breath and control herself, but the laugh fought its way out and filled the room with an eerie sound. “I would if I could, but I can't,” she managed to gasp. “Did you steal the gold, Cassidy?” asked Jesse. “No.” The hysterical laughter continued to flow from her. Charlene put her arm around Cassidy. “Now look what you've done. You've sent her straight over the edge.” Charlene patted Cassidy's back. “It'll be okay, dear. Take a deep breath. I'll get you another soda."

Cassidy held up her hand. “I want a drink." “That's what I'm getting,” said Charlene. “Whiskey. Not Pepsi.” She needed something strong. Something to settle her nerves and she'd built up a gigantic case of nerves. All these new things with which she'd had to deal. Not to mention arrows whizzing by her head and the sheriff accusing her of things. “Cassidy, nobody can get into this type of trouble and not know why.” Jesse reached for her hands. She glared at him and yanked back her hands. “Some people fall into trouble by accident.” She stood and glowered down at him. “You go back to your investigating. In the end you'll see I'm right. The first incident has nothing to do with the others.” She turned toward the door. “You won't have to worry. I'll be out of your hair as quick as I can. Then you can worry about something else.” She stomped out of the store. How dare he accuse her of stealing Jake's gold. She'd never steal anything. She looked both ways along the street, then glanced over at the bank building. The top was empty. She started to the right. “Cassidy, come back.” She heard Jesse behind her. “Leave her be for a bit.” Charlene's voice floated around her. “She'll be fine." “What if he comes back?” asked Jesse. Cassidy saw a sign for a liquor store. She pushed open the door and entered. Walking to the clerk, she said, “Give me a bottle of whiskey." The man looked at her for a moment. “You got ID?" She stared at him. The damn ID again. Everyone wanted her to have one. “I want a bottle of whiskey." “You don't look old enough.” The man crossed his arms over his chest. She blinked at him. “I've been buying whiskey for years." “Then show me your ID." She leaned closer and placed Jesse's credit card on the counter. “This is all I have." “That's not ID." “It's all I have.” This twenty-first century had too many rules and strange things. She needed ID to buy whiskey, but she didn't have any and she wanted a drink. “Why do I need ID?" “To prove you're over twenty-one." “Buster, I saw my twenty-first birthday a long while back. In fact, I've seen my twenty-sixth one. Now give me whiskey.” She needed a drink. Never in her life had she really needed a drink. Well, maybe once after that range war Jake got her mixed up in and she'd nearly lost her skin. Come to think of it, every time she helped Jake, she nearly lost her skin and usually needed a bottle. That should have warned her. “You don't look that old." “Clean living.” She leaned across the counter and glared at the man. “I'm in a real bad mood at the

moment. Someone tried to kill me a few minutes ago. Now I have a credit card with the sheriff's name on it. Would he give it to me if I wasn't old enough to buy whiskey?" The man's gaze wavered. “I guess not. What kind do you want?" “The big bottle.” She didn't care. Just whiskey. Smooth and warm to take the chill from her. To deaden the fear. To make this crazy world go away for a little bit. He handed her a piece of paper. “Sign on the line." She looked at it for a minute, then at the pen he handed her. She'd seen Jesse write with one. The ink was held inside the pen. Another marvel. She studied the end where the ink came out and smiled to herself. It was so much easier than an ink bottle and nib. Then she scrawled her signature across the bottom of the page. Her mother would be aghast at how sloppy her writing had become over the years. Her mother had always been so strict about penmanship. God, she missed her mother. The man pulled out a brown paper bag and opened it. “Don't need a bag.” Cassidy took the bottle and opened it. Putting it to her lips, she took a long pull on it. It was sweet. Some of the best whiskey she'd ever tasted. “You can't drink that in here,” the man said. She waved her hand at him. “I'm leaving.” She walked out the door and turned toward Charlene's shop. She took another pull on the bottle. The warmth filled her. The world started to look better immediately. She let the bottle drop to her side and strolled down the street. Jesse stood in front of the dress shop. He looked a little fuzzy around the edges. That was strange. She'd only had two pulls on the bottle. It shouldn't hit her that hard. She'd been known to polish off a whole bottle by herself and still be standing. Jesse's arms came around her, steadying her. He felt warm and smelled of that nice cologne he wore. She smiled up into his face. “Hi.” She raised the bottle. He took the bottle from her. She reached for it, or tried. Her arms didn't want to work. “Cassidy, you shouldn't be drinking." “Why not?” Her words slurred together. All she wanted to do was close her eyes and go to sleep. “Because of the pills you're taking. They don't mix with liquor." “Fine time to tell me." “I did tell you." “You didn't make it very clear.” She looked at him. Were his eyes crossed or were hers? This damned century. She laid her head against Jesse's shoulder. She'd rest now and worry about that later. **** Jesse sat at his desk in his office. He wanted to strangle Cassidy. Some lunatic shoots another arrow at her and she parades down the street with a bottle of whiskey in her hand. The guy could have been waiting for another chance. She'd made herself easy prey. She wasn't going to get herself killed in his jurisdiction. He didn't care what he had to do to insure that.

For the moment, Bill stood guard over her while she slept off her drinking binge. Jesse should have been more specific about drinking and taking the pain pills. He figured after their night out, she'd know. He guessed it hadn't clicked. Of course, he thought everyone knew better than to mix booze and pills. There seemed to be so many things she didn't know. Maybe the time had come to get rid of those pills. She only took them to please him and she didn't seem to be in much pain. When he got home, he'd flush them. He dug in the cupboard behind his desk and got out the first arrow, the one dug from her back. His hand shook as he picked it up and placed it next to the fourth arrow. She was damn lucky they hadn't had to dig the fourth one out of her. He retrieved the two broken arrows from the cupboard and laid them next to each other, matching up the broken ends. They were similar. He took up the first one and caressed it. The craftsmanship was superb. He ran his finger over the marking identifying the arrow as belonging to his family. A double bolt of lightning that crossed at a forty-five degree angle, the left bolt longer than the right, was carved near the feathers on each arrow. A tingle ran up his finger. He could feel a connection. He couldn't imagine who in his family could make such and arrow and why he'd be shooting at Cassidy. What connection did she have to his family? Who in his clan would know she had the coins and go after them? No one. That was who. Damn. All he had were questions. Where were the answers? He picked up another arrow. It was similar, but not nearly as fine. His family marking was on the shaft. He ran his finger over it. The wood was smooth except where the marking had been carved. He stared at the arrows, waiting for them to tell him something, anything. They lay on the desk, holding their secrets. Cassidy held her secrets as closely. If he didn't find the answers to the secrets, he didn't know if he could protect her. The hair on the back of his neck prickled like it did when something was very, very wrong. Prickled like it did when he couldn't get a handle on what was happening. Prickled like it did before something awful went down. That was part of the reason he'd left the FBI. The hair on the back of his neck had prickled too often. He hated the sensation. He hated knowing trouble waited on the horizon and nothing he could do would avert it. The hair on his neck hadn't prickled since he'd come back to Apache Creek. Not until now. The something awful might happen to Cassidy. He couldn't bear that. He ran his hand along the first arrow, his finger tips tingling. When had she become so important to him? His house didn't seem empty any longer. He didn't need so many things to fill it. Her wonder brought him a new sense of life. Her beauty made the place seem brighter. He wanted her to stay. She had no reason. He wanted her to be innocent of stealing the gold. She said she was. He wanted to protect her, keep her safe. For the moment she was. The hair on the back of his neck kept prickling. ****

Cassidy woke to the smell of food cooking. She couldn't identify the smell, but it was heavenly and her stomach rumbled. She climbed from the couch and wandered into the kitchen. “Hi.” She watched Jesse as he stirred something on the stove. “What are you fixing?" “Spaghetti.” He smiled at her. “Are you feeling better?" She brushed her hair from her face. “Yeah ... just a little fuzzy around the edges. Got any coffee?" Jesse poured her a cup. “Are you hungry?" “Starving." “Then sit and we'll eat.” He picked up a large pan and poured hot, steaming noodles into a colander. He served them each a plate, topped it with sauce, and sat at the table. “I wished you'd been a little more emphatic about not drinking. The night we went out, I heard you, but I didn't really understand.” She'd never have bought the whiskey if she'd known she'd pass out. “I never thought you'd get a bottle and drink straight from it. I've never seen a woman do that before, except those living on the streets.” He forked some of the spaghetti into his mouth. She smiled at him. “I do a lot of things most women don't. I built my life on that fact." “So I'm finding out." “Does it bother you?” She took a bite of the food. It was heavenly. “Not really. I find it kinda ... kinda sweet?" “Strange?” She didn't want him to think her odd. This man she wanted to see beyond the image she'd built. “No, sweet." “I don't believe you.” Most men found her strange. She'd spent a great amount of effort to keep that image. Then most men she'd met also feared her. She'd worked hard to keep it that way. It was safer. “You're a very good cook." “Thank you. So are you." She shrugged as she chewed. “It keeps me from starving, but nothing fancy. I can roast a rabbit or a mule deer or a bird. Of course, I usually had to catch ‘em first." “You've obviously led a rather strange life." She thought about it. “Not really.” Life hadn't seemed strange. Not before Limping Hawk had shot her anyway. “Just ‘cuz I don't want to be like other women doesn't make me strange. All those gee-gaws and clothes seem too bothersome. Breeches and a shirt are easier. Skirts get in the way." “Most women wear pants. Doesn't seem like much of a statement against society." She had noticed women didn't seem to dress the way they did in the past. Fact was, they seemed to wear very little clothing. Explaining the facts to Jesse wasn't going to work. “You sorta had to be there." He laughed.

His laughter seemed to caress her. A warm and safe feeling enveloped her. She liked being near him. He set her heart aflutter, something no man had ever done before. Jesse finished eating and pushed his plate away. “You want to watch a movie while I clean up?" “I'll help. Washing dishes is something I'm good at.” Besides, she rather liked that thing he called a dishwasher. All she had to do was rinse the dishes under the hot water that came from the faucet, then set them inside the machine. She didn't have to heat water or prime a pump. Even Jake didn't have such luxuries. “You sure you're up to it?" She picked up the plates. “Definitely. I like your running hot water and your dishwasher." “They're not all that fancy." “Fanciest I've ever seen.” She reached for the apron he kept hanging next to the sink, though she'd never seen him use it, and tied it around herself. “Whose apron am I using?" “My mom's. She uses it when she comes to visit." A twinge ran through Cassidy's heart. Her mother had always worn an apron when she worked. A great white apron that covered the front of her skirt and the sides. No matter how hard her mother worked, or how many times she wiped her hands on the apron, it never seemed to get dirty. “Where do your parents live?" “They moved to L.A. a few years ago. They come to visit several times a year. Grandfather is getting older and they come to see him as much as me.” Jesse's chair scraped against the floor. “They don't come as often since I moved back here. They seem to think I can take care of Grandfather. Like anyone can do anything with that old man." “Now, your grandfather is a very nice man and, for his age, he seems to be very alert.” Without Tall Trees, her sanity wouldn't still be intact. He'd helped her see what had happened to her was real and not an illusion created by drugs or her imagination. “Oh, he's alert and full of mischief. Sometimes he's like a little boy. A naughty little boy." “He wouldn't appreciate you talking about him that way." “Probably not. Let me help, then we can both go watch a movie. You rinse, I'll load." She nodded and turned on the water. She let the cool fluid run over her hand until it warmed. She didn't know if she'd ever get used to the fact that water would suddenly get hot coming out of the faucet. “Are you close to your parents?" “Pretty much. They've always encouraged me to do what I wanted. They wanted me to be happy. What about your parents?" Cassidy scraped the bits of spaghetti from the plate into the hole Jessie called the garbage disposal. “They loved me. They never would've approved of what I did. They expected me to get married and have a passel of grandkids for them, but once they were gone, I didn't see much reason in doing that." “Why wouldn't they have approved of you? You seem to be a capable, bright, young woman." “Bright and capable weren't things they'd have treasured. Cooking, sewing, cleaning, making a home.

These things they would have treasured.” She sighed. If her parents hadn't died, she'd be married by now, living on her own ranch and raising children. Instead, she stood in a strange century doing dishes with an Apache sheriff. An Apache sheriff she wanted to be around all the time. A man she wanted to take her into his arms and hold her. “You never told me what happened to your parents and who raised you." “I raised myself. Ever since I was twelve." “How's that possible? Surely child services would've stepped in." “Who?" “Child services—the people who take care of children without adults to care for them." “Oh. Guess they didn't hear about me.” There had been a foundling home in Mesa. A great dark, dreary place filled with children whose parents had run into the Apache or the cholera or an accident. Children who grew up without hope or parents. She'd stood outside the gate at twelve and looked at the place and the grim faces of the children in the play yard. She'd walked away from there. At twelve she'd had enough tears of her own. She didn't need to share others'. She didn't want to be in a place that held no hope. “It must've been awful being alone.” He took a dish from her. “Were your parents killed in an accident?" No. Her parents had been murdered. Murdered by his ancestors. She couldn't tell him that. “They were killed by ... by men who broke into the house." “How awful. Were you home at the time?" “I barely made it out the back. Death came very close that day.” She shivered, forcing the picture of her mother's last moments from her head. She blinked. Damn. Tears came to her eyes. Ever since she'd come to this century and met this man, tears seemed to creep into her eyes. She'd buried the tears years ago. Why were they coming back now? CHAPTER 13 Jesse turned her from the sink and took her into his arms. “I didn't mean to bring up bad memories." Cassidy snuggled her head against his chest, feeling the softness of his shirt and the hardness of his muscles against her cheek. For years she'd been alone. No one ever comforted her. Jake tried once in a while, but he wasn't very good at it. She'd learned to live without comfort from others. Now she wanted it. Craved it. The fluttering in her stomach spread through her, until all her muscles seemed to be fluttering and she feared her legs wouldn't hold her. “Sometimes it can't be helped." He tilted her head up and looked into her eyes. She studied him, but the sheen of tears in her eyes made him appear almost as a vision rather than reality. So like what life had become now. She stretched up on her tiptoes and pulled his face down, taking his lips against hers. She kissed him hungrily, remembering the last time and wanting more. His mouth responded to hers and he folded her against him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on to him, not wanting the kiss to stop. His tongue played across the seam of her closed lips, tickling, tasting, and teasing.

She opened her mouth and allowed his tongue entrance, her tongue touching the tip of his. A shock ran through her body and a gasp caught in her throat. He pulled away from her and nuzzled her neck, trailing kisses down to her shoulder. He swept her into his arms and started toward the living room. She nibbled at his neck and he shivered. He sat her on the couch and, sitting next to her, pulled her close to him. He brushed the hair back from her face. He cupped her face for a moment, then kissed her again. She pressed her body against his, wanting more. Lightly his hand skimmed down the front of her blouse and rested on her breast. Tiny shocks ran through her and she leaned into his caress. He rubbed her nipple through the thin material. She pulled back from his kiss and let her head drop back on the couch. His touch felt so exquisite. She never wanted him to stop. She wanted to experience more. “God, you're beautiful,” Jesse whispered. His hand continued to caress her breast, molding it gently. She touched his face. A face she would have feared a few weeks ago. A face so handsome it made her want to weep. Or were the touches making her want to weep? He pulled his hand away. “Don't stop,” she whispered. He brushed his mouth across her shirt, his tongue licking at her nipples through the material. “I hadn't planned on it.” He tugged on one nipple. “We'd be more comfortable in the bedroom with a few less clothes.” He stood and pulled her up with him. She wrapped her arms around his chest and buried her head against him. Awkwardness filled her. Would he like the way her body looked? She leaned back and looked into his face as he ran his fingers through her hair. “Let's stay here." “The couch isn't very comfortable for making love.” He smiled at her and kissed her. Picking her up, he carried her in and laid her on his bed. She stretched back while he stripped off his shirt. His chest was a golden brown with a fine definition of muscles. She wanted to touch him, but he stood too far away. He unbuttoned his jeans. She scooted over and reached out to him, pulling him down on the bed next to her. “Hold me.” She cuddled against him and traced a pattern down his chest. He caught her hand and held it to his mouth, kissing her fingers. “Shy?" She shook her head. She'd never been shy in her life. She'd never laid with a man in her life either. She had no clear idea of what to do or what to expect. She'd seen animals mate, but that couldn't possibly be the same. He kissed her again, letting his hand drift across her body, stopping to caress her breast, then down to her stomach. He pulled the buttons loose on her shirt and let it fall open. His mouth trailed kisses on her bare flesh, and deep within, she turned to fire. She grabbed him by the hair and held on tight. The world shifted. He unbuttoned the top of her jeans. She rolled toward him, squeezing his hand between the two of them. “Kiss me,” she gasped. She didn't

want him to stop, but letting him see her naked frightened her. Laying with a man who wasn't her husband wasn't right, but she wanted to lay with him, even though she feared it. He kissed her again and held her tightly against his chest. “What's wrong, Cassandra?" The name sounded right coming from his lips. Not sarcastic the way it always sounded when Jake said it, but filled with love and tenderness. “Nothing.” She held on to him, wanting to partake in more of what men and women did. She was uncertain she could please him because she knew nothing. Her body screamed for his touch. Her mind screamed to stop. She wanted to listen to her body. He pulled her face up so he could look at her. “You're a very beautiful woman." She nodded. “Something is bothering you.” He looked deeply into her eyes. “Is there someone else? A husband? A significant other?" “No husband." “Then a significant other?” He still held her tightly. She shrugged. “What is that?" “A boyfriend." “Oh. No. No beau." “Then what, Cassandra?” His eyes held the question, Is it me? “You ... you make me feel wonderful. All over.” Her voice came in little gasps. “All warm and soft and prickly." “Good. You're supposed to feel that way." “I gathered that." His eyes squinted for a moment, then he pulled her close. “You've never been with a man." She nodded her head against him. Now he would pull away from her. He would know she wasn't the type of woman he thought she was. She wasn't a wanton. She wanted to be one, but she didn't know how. His respect was more important than being held in his arms. Her body screamed she was wrong. “Never." “Oh, my God, a twenty-six year old virgin. I didn't know any still existed.” He nuzzled her ear. “A throwback to other times. A woman who's saving herself for her husband.” He looked at her and smiled a soft sexy smile. “I'll have to win the lady fair then." Heat crept up her face. “Hold me, Jesse. Kiss me. I don't know what to do." He wrapped her in his arms. “It's all right. We have plenty of time. For now, lay next to me." She snuggled her head against his shoulder. For now she'd be content to be held. Tomorrow, maybe tomorrow, she'd have the courage to find out the rest of what happened. For today, she'd be content to

lie next to him and enjoy his warmth. **** Cassidy pulled her buckskins on and tucked her shirt into the waist. She really liked her new jeans, but today she wanted the feel of her buckskins. Jesse's deputy was somewhere outside, keeping watch over her and the place. Since the arrow incident yesterday, he'd been there whenever Jesse had to leave. To avoid him, she'd slip out the back to the stable and saddle the gray. She wanted to ride out into the desert and think about all that had happened. Think about laying in Jesse's arms, the past, this present, and where her future hid. She couldn't give herself to Jesse until she knew the answers. Opening the back door, she peeked around the jamb. She couldn't see the deputy. She crossed the yard quickly and disappeared into the interior of the stable. She listened to the familiar sounds of horses in their stalls and the smelled the odors that accompanied them. She walked to the last stall where the big gray stallion stood. Storm. So much like Storm. She offered the horse the carrots she'd cut up. He nibbled at the carrots and chewed them slowly, eyeing her. When he'd finished, he slobbered on her hand. Cassidy laughed and wiped her hand on his mane. He raised his head and whinnied. She pushed open the gate and he stepped back from her. Closing it behind her, she put a halter on his head. He stepped toward her foot. She sidestepped. “Oh, no you don't." The halter secure, she opened the stall door. He sidled up to her, trying to press her between his body and the wall. She smacked him on his shoulder and he moved away from her. She pulled his head to her and looked into his eyes. “You have the devil in you, don't you?” She laughed and scratched him behind the ear. If he'd been a cat, he'd have purred. She tied him to the stall's outside wall and saddled him. He stood perfectly still, watching ahead, ignoring her. She led him outside and looked for the deputy again before lifting herself into the saddle. Black Jack appeared at the horse's side. “Let's go.” She nudged the horse forward, walking around the back of the stable. Open ground and the desert lay beyond. If she rode northwest, she'd skirt the town. Jesse had shown her on a map where they'd found her, and she'd studied the landmarks. It looked so different with all the buildings, but she wanted to see the spot she'd landed in this century. The place that had changed her life. She gave the horse his rein and leaned across his neck once they gained open space. He flew like the wind. Even his movements reminded her of Storm. He was truly a descendent. For a moment she could believe she rode on her big gray, traveling toward Sonora and all was right with the world. Only she went north instead of south. That didn't matter. She was free for the moment of all the constrictions of this time and place. In her time, she chose what rules she broke and she did it blatantly. It wasn't hard to make the matrons’ hair stand on end. They'd look down their nose at her and make sure their daughters didn't come too close. They feared her more than the cowboys who frequented the saloons. At least with them, the old biddies could hope to reform them and make them into marriageable material. Cassidy was simply a social disgrace and heaven forbid any of it wore off on their young daughters. People broke rules in this time, but differently, and there didn't seem to be so many. Nobody cared that

she wore pants. All women wore pants. It seemed to Cassidy, pants were a sight better than those short skirts that showed way too much skin. No one seemed to care about that either. The conventions of this time confused her. The roles of men and women didn't seem very clear. Jesse cooked and cleaned. Charlene ran a dress store and no one seemed to pity her that she didn't have a husband to take care of her. Charlene had even said she'd gone to a bar, which Cassidy figured to be a saloon, and lots of women went and no one minded. All the saloons she'd been to in her life, the only other women in them were the working girls. One of them she'd never be, taking men upstairs for their pleasures. Charlene said the waitress only served drinks. The place didn't have an upstairs to take anyone. Jesse wouldn't tolerate that in his town. Cassidy laughed a happy laugh and let it flow behind her. Black Jack kept pace with the horse, but with trouble, so Cassidy reined in the gray. “Enough for the moment, old man. You're a fine specimen. A fine specimen indeed, but we don't want to kill the dog." The big gray settled into a slower pace. Maybe she could turn him south and keep riding until she got to Sonora. Would it be any different? Would there still be all these newfangled contraptions she didn't understand? She stopped the horse. They were somewhere near where she'd run into the Apache. Even after a hundred years, the rock formation looked the same. Sliding down, she led the horse. Black Jack rubbed against her leg and she patted him. She looked out across the desert. The spot had to be here somewhere. She walked a little farther. Turning, she looked south. Yes, she'd come through here. Off to the west a bit. She dragged her boots through the sand. She could feel it pulling her toward the spot where her life had changed. She knelt and let the sand sift through her hands. This was it. Nothing existed of her time anymore, except this sand. Standing, she leaned against the horse. He nuzzled against her ear. “Can I find a way home, boy?” She gazed into the distance. A small devil wind had formed near the horizon—a tiny thing with no power. Not like the one that had brought her here. The desert was quiet except for the few insect sounds that always formed a backdrop. No devil wind came to greet her and take her home today. What would she find on the other side if she went home? Limping Hawk hunting for her, ready to sell her into slavery? Or had he moved on and she'd find herself in the desert without Storm and no way home. Walking all those miles wasn't a possibility. It would be certain death without water and a mount. She sighed. “Where is home, Tall Trees? You know. Why won't you tell me?" **** Where the hell is she? Jesse thought as he scanned the horizon for Cassidy. He couldn't believe his deputy had let her ride alone. The man had to be sleeping on the job. On top of that, she'd ridden out on the big gray. If the ornery animal decided to throw her, no one would be around to help. His heart beat in his ears. He stood in the saddle and surveyed the area. Nothing but desert and no where for an assailant to hide. It made him wonder how she'd ended up with the arrow in her back.

Surely she had to see it coming. She must have known the man. The gold coins had to have set off the string of events. Why arrows? A high powered rifle would be so much easier. One shot and the whole business was finished. The way she carried the gold didn't seem the proper way to carry priceless gold coins, all banging together in a leather bag. Damn. Nothing made any sense ... including why she'd run off today. Had he scared her last night? How was he to know? It had taken all of his willpower to pull back from her, but he'd put his desire in check and held her even though it had been hell. He scanned the horizon again, looking for a glint of sunlight off metal. There she was. He urged his horse ahead. She didn't seem to be going anywhere. She stood, looking out into the desert. He wondered what she saw. He stopped his horse a few feet behind the big gray. “You found me.” Her voice was soft, almost a caress. “How'd you know it was me?” He dismounted and strode over to stand beside her. “It could've been the crazed killer." She gave him a half smile. “Naw. He probably doesn't wear the same cologne you do." “My cologne?" The buckskins she wore hung loose and didn't caress her behind. He much preferred her in blue jeans and a pullover blouse. He remembered every curve her clothes hid. She'd pulled up her hair and covered it with her hat. She wore soft leather gloves on her hands. “It's a foreign smell out here on the desert.” She turned back and looked across the open space. “You picked it out?" She shrugged her shoulders. “The little things can prove the difference between life and death in a place like this." “You've spent a great deal of time on this desert, haven't you?” He needed answers to questions she wasn't willing to answer. He wanted answers to questions that told him who she was. An enigma. In her buckskins she looked the part of a rough and tumble cowhand, ready to do a day's work, but underneath, soft and feminine. More feminine than he remembered any woman being. Yet, she held her secrets to her heart. He wanted those secrets. “More than I'd like to figure on.” She pushed the big gray's head away from her. “When you live in this land, you haven't much choice." “You didn't always live in Arizona?” He followed her gaze, wondering at what she stared. He put his arm around her shoulder. “Not always.” A sigh rattle through her. “When I was little, my parents had a plantation in Georgia." She looked into his face, then away, but didn't move from beneath his arm. “Lost the farm, so to speak. Arizona offered land. We came."

He nodded. “Lots of people move to start over.” He liked her next to him. She seemed to fit up against him. She stirred things within him he hadn't felt in years. Not since he was fifteen and had fallen in love with Nancy. Of course her parents wouldn't hear of their daughter dating any “damn Indian." “I wish you wouldn't ride the big gray. That horse could kill you." “No, he won't. You fret too much.” She patted the side of the horse's face. He seemed to nuzzle against her hand. Jesse stared. The big gray was the meanest horse he'd ever known, yet he was gentle as a kitten with Cassidy. “Damn horse hates me and everyone else who comes near him." “He's picky.” She giggled. “I guess so.” He still found it hard to realize a woman as small as Cassidy could sit the big gray, let alone ride him. He was a powerful horse and damn fast. Only a truly experienced rider could stay seated. “What's his name?" “Never gave him one." “Why do you keep him?" “For breeding purposes." “Oh. I'm going to call him Storm." “Fits him.” Like a gray thunderstorm coming across the desert with lightning flashing and thunder cracking. That was the big gray. “Is this the spot?" “You tell me." “Seems to be." His arms suddenly felt empty as she pulled away from him and squatted in the dirt. The sand sifted between the fingers of her gloves. “Nothing but sand." “You expected to find something else." “I don't know what I expected." “Cassandra, I can't help you if you won't tell me what's going on." She stood and looked at him. She studied his face for a long time, then turned and looked out into the desert. He knew today was not going to be the day she imparted her secret to him, whatever it was. “Cassandra, please. Whatever you did, I can help." She shrugged her shoulders. “I didn't do anything. At least not anything the law would be able to help with." “Then tell me where your family is so I can contact them." “They're all gone. Dust.” She seemed to draw into herself.

“There has to be someone.” He drew her into his arms. “Tell me where to find Jake." “I wish I could.” She leaned back. “Believe me, Jesse. I don't have the answers you want. I haven't done anything illegal.” She pressed her face against his shirt, her hat falling down her back. “I have no idea who is after me with that damn bow and arrow, but when I find him I have a place for the arrow." Jesse laughed softly and pressed his face against her hair. It was soft and warm against his cheek. “I'd better get you back to where I can protect you." She pulled back. “You don't have to protect me, Jesse. I've been doing that for more years than I care to think about and I've managed to keep my hide attached. It'll take more than one man with a bow to stop me now.” She walked over and lifted herself up on the big gray. “I've seen what I wanted. I'm ready to go back." “I'll ride the gray. You'll have an easier time on my mount." She shook her head and laughed. “Naw. He hates you, but he loves me.” She kicked the horse in the sides and he took off like a shot. Damn woman. He'd have a hell of a time trying to catch her. “Come on, Black Jack. We don't want to be outdone by a slip of a woman, do we?" Black Jack yelped once and started after Cassidy. Jesse leaned low giving the horse his head. **** Cassidy reined in the horse and stared out into the dessert. In the distance she could see shadowy figures —the sun creating shimmering bits of lights in the heat. Nothing more. They took the shape of Limping Hawk and his men. She saw them as they chased her down. As it had been only a few weeks ago. A few weeks in her experience, but forever ago. Limping Hawk had turned to dust. Her whole life had turned to dust. She blinked back a tear. Crying for what was lost had never done any good. Not when her parents had died. Never. She was lost in time, caught between what was hers and where she was. She didn't know which way to go. She didn't even know if she could decide to go back if she wanted. She didn't understand this time. People talked about sex as if it belonged with everyday dinner conversation. Plus all the fancy contraptions they had. She'd never understand them. Cars and trucks weren't so bad, or electric lights and indoor toilets, but microwaves, computers, faxes, all these things people used as if they were nothing. She couldn't quite get the grasp of them. She squinted, bringing the shape of Limping Hawk into focus. He let out a whoop and she saw the arrow leave his bow. She could feel it enter her body again. Her reality existed in the mirage ... the reality of being hunted down by an Apache for her horse. Damn thieving Indian. He'd caused all this. If he hadn't gotten the notion in his head he had to have Storm, she'd have made it to Sonora. Everything would have been fine. She watched him race forward, then pull his horse to a halt. Two of his comrades lay in the dust where they'd fallen after she shot them. At least she hadn't suffered alone. Limping Hawk's attention focused on something behind her. He watched the devil wind, but she didn't turn to see. She didn't want to see. Once had been enough. If she'd been able to keep Storm from riding through it, she wouldn't have ended up in this mess. The horse had always been stubborn.

If he hadn't ridden through the devil wind, she'd be dead. She stroked the big gray's head. “Did he know?” Would dead have been better? She shook her head. “No. No. Living is better." “Cassidy, are you all right?” Jesse's voice came from behind her. “I'm fine.” The shimmering images started to fade. Damn, you Limping Hawk. He was my horse. Jesse pulled up next to her. “Are you sure? You were talking to yourself." She looked over at him and laughed. “Not exactly." He looked out into the dessert. “If you say so." She shifted and swung one leg in front of the saddle horn. “Look out there." “I am." “What do you see?" “Lots of empty space." “Want to know what I see?” He probably didn't, but she didn't care anymore. Grandpa understood what she felt, but Jesse ... that would be a different story. Did he have enough of the magic Tall Trees talked about to keep an open mind in this situation? It didn't matter. The truth had to be told. “Sure.” He took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “I see your great-grandfather Limping Hawk riding across the desert with his band of renegades." Jesse looked back toward the dessert. “Fanciful thought. How many of those pain pills have you been taking?" “None. You threw them out." “Whiskey?" She rubbed the horse's neck. Being near Storm had always made her feel safe. This horse, Storm's descendent, had the same affect on her. “Limping Hawk's ghost still rides there.” Only she could see him. He haunted her. “How would you know of my great-grandfather? Has Grandfather been filling your head with stories?" She slid down from the horse. “He only told me one story.” She turned to Jesse. “You asked me if I knew who had shot me." “More than once.” He dismounted and stood next to her. She could feel him, even though he didn't touch her. Not more than a fraction of an inch separated them. After she'd finished her tale, would he be willing to stand near her? She could change her mind and tell him the pills made her fanciful. He'd accept that. A falsehood would stand between them. She looked into his eyes. She never had been able to live with lies. The truth had to be told, no matter the consequences. She hoped they weren't what she feared they'd be. This man brought out feelings in her she never knew she had. She'd never wanted to settle down in one place with a man. That wasn't exactly true. She'd thought on it a time or two, but without

any hope of ever finding someone she'd want to take as a husband. Now she had, and she didn't want to see the look on his face when she told him her truth. It would tear at her heart to watch him turn away from her, but she didn't see any way around it. “Cassandra, do you know whose after you?" She blinked her eyes and looked at him again. “I haven't the faintest notion who is after me." “Then why bring up the subject.” A look of bewilderment crossed his face. “Who is after me and who managed to lodge an arrow in my back are two different subjects.” She squatted down and picked up a handful of sand. Standing, she let it drift through her fingers. “How can that be?” He laid his hand on her shoulder. She let the warmth of his touch filter into her as she brushed the sand from her gloves. “Easy. In this time and in this place, I have no more idea of what is going on than you do. Someone wants Jake's coins, but I don't know who." “Where is Jake?" She pointed north. “Buried up there somewhere, about two days’ ride, I'd imagine.” She watched his face, her breath catching in her lungs. “If Jake's dead, why do you have his gold? Cassandra, you aren't making any sense." “It's going to get worse." Jesse shook his head, then looked up. “How do you know he's dead?" “He'd be awfully old by now. He was nigh onto fifty the last time I saw him. That'd make him about one-hundred-and-seventy, and even Jake isn't going to live that long." “You're rambling, Cassandra.” He turned her so she faced him. “Maybe we should get out of the sun." “No.” She shook her head, but let his hands rest on her shoulders. “Not until I tell you who shot me. Then ... well, then you can do whatever ... whatever.” She shrugged her shoulders. “All right. Who shot you?" “Limping Hawk.” The simple truth was always the best, she'd found. Say the simple truth. “Limping Hawk? Like in my Great-Grandfather Limping Hawk?" CHAPTER 14 “One and the same. The son-of-a-bitch stole my horse.” She laughed. “Actually, he shot me first, then stole my horse, but Storm got the best of him. Never would let him ride. Served him right. He had no business stealing my horse. I was minding my own business. “I wasn't hurting Limping Hawk or his bunch. I didn't want anything but to be left alone to ride on to Sonora to pay for Jake's cattle and land.” She took in a deep breath. “No, he took a liking to Storm and had to have him, and I was in the way so I had to be disposed of. He shot me and he nearly killed me except that damn devil wind came up.” She stopped and gulped in air. She threw her hands up into the

air, then let them drop. Jesse looked at her for a long moment. “Let's start this over again." “Don't think I can.” Telling it once was enough. So far, he hadn't gotten an expression on his face that said he thought she was crazy or worse. He stared at her with a look of confusion. “Then let me clarify a few things." She nodded to him. “Okay." “You rode across the desert to Sonora on a horse named Storm." “Yep. Looked like your big gray there. Just as ornery. Just as fast." “You were carrying gold for Jake." “To pay for cattle and land from Señor Rodriguez." “What year would this have been?" “It was 1884." “Cassandra, that isn't possible.” A look of disbelief flickered through Jesse's eyes. “It doesn't seem possible, does it?” She looked out into the desert. The shimmering images had dissolved, but she still felt the presence of Limping Hawk. She could still hear the Apaches’ cries as they rode down on her. Her stomach tightened as she remembered knowing she was about to die and her cursing Jake. “Being here with you doesn't seem possible." “Cassandra, people don't travel through time. That's science fiction." “I wish. Of course, then I'd be dead. Limping Hawk was a far sight better aim than the guy who's after me now." Jesse's arms dropped from her shoulders. “How am I supposed to believe this?" “How would I know? I barely believe it myself, and I lived through it.” She had to tell him something that would make him believe her. “How else would I have twenty-dollar gold pieces? You've said yourself people don't use them as currency any more. Or how about my Colt and Winchester? They're nearly new, but very old." He nodded his head. “Yes. So they are. But..." She pointed out into the desert. “Right about there Limping Hawk got off his arrow. I'd shot two of the Apache riding with him. God, how I hated the Apache. They'd killed my parents right before my eyes, so when those two went off their horses, I was glad. I knew they were going to get me. Storm couldn't go fast enough. I couldn't make it to the rocks.” She pointed to an outcrop several miles away. “They'd have given me a place to at least make a stand, but they were too far away." She looked into Jesse's eyes. “I didn't want to die. Not transporting gold. I'd done so many other things that should've gotten me killed. The day the Apache killed my parents, I barely escaped. When I fought in Jake's land war, I should've died several times. Hell, I took a bullet in the shoulder that time. Was lucky it weren't a might lower. That would've killed me.

“Then the time I hunted that bobcat and it jumped me, I fell off Storm and broke my leg in the middle of nowhere. I should've died then. “I certainly should've died when Limping Hawk shot me. Instead, I woke up in your fancy hospital.” She sighed. “I didn't want to die. I know that. Maybe my last thought before I passed out and fell off Storm was how much I didn't want to die and I didn't." Jesse stood looking at her, his mouth clamped tightly closed. She wished he'd say something. Anything to stop her from rambling. “If Limping Hawk had found me, I would've. He had no use for me, just Storm. But, Jesse, I didn't want to die. I hadn't really lived yet. Maybe I wished myself here. I don't know." “It had to be more than a wish." “It was the biggest damn devil wind I've ever seen." **** Jesse looked out into the desert, then back at Cassidy. He'd call Doc when he got home and ask about those pills he'd given her. Maybe they'd affected her mind. He spoke softly and slowly. He had to keep her calm. “Cassandra, all I've ever wanted is the truth from you. I can't help you if you don't tell me the truth." A look of hurt flashed through her eyes. “I'm telling the truth." She didn't seem to be delusional. He'd spent enough time with her he should have been able to tell. He'd been trained in dealing with delusional people. But ... “If my great-grandfather shot you, who's after you now?" “That's what you're supposed to be figuring out. You're the sheriff." Grandfather had told him stories when he was young. Many stories, but he didn't remember one about Limping Hawk shooting a woman who disappeared in a devil wind. Grandfather had said Limping Hawk had stolen the horse from which the big gray was descended. “Cassandra, my Great-grandfather couldn't have been involved in this." “Why? Because you don't believe he could be a horse thief? Or because you think I'm crazy?" “No. I don't think you're crazy.” The heat and some weird reaction to the pills. If he got her home and let her rest, then they could discuss this again. She'd feel better and realize she'd hallucinated. He'd call the doctor. Then things would be better. “Let's go home. We can discuss this there. Once you've rested. Once you're out of the heat." “It won't help.” She swung up onto her horse. She faced him. “It's the truth. Plain and simple." He could tell she really believed what she said. How could she? Grandfather had put ideas into her head. Ideas that helped her cope with what was happening now. After all, someone had tried to kill her again and her mind couldn't handle that. Victims often tended to disassociate themselves from violent attacks. As long as he kept Grandfather away from her and he found the man stalking her, she'd be all right. When this was over, she'd remember who she really was. He'd take her home now. “We'll talk about it at home, Cassandra. Things will look better there.” He mounted his horse. “It's okay you can't remember what happened. People involved in violent crimes

often can't remember the details. They shut it from their minds." “I haven't shut anything from my mind.” She urged the gray toward town. “I remember it very clearly. Believe me. I remember every detail, except what happened after I passed out from the pain." The pain. That was what had done it. “It's understandable, Cassandra. That arrow had to hurt like crazy.” He'd looked at those arrows. All of them. They all had his family markings on them. A marking Great-Grandfather would have put on his arrow. It wasn't possible. It did not come into the realm of possibilities. “That's one way of putting it." “If only you could help me with something that would point to who keeps shooting at you.” There had to be a flicker somewhere within her that remembered something of sense. “Jesse, I have no idea who's after me." Jesse rode next to Cassidy. “I'm doing my best to keep you safe. You're important to me, but I could use some help.” He didn't know exactly when it had happened, but she had become the bright spot in his life, making it worth living again. He no longer could imagine life without her. She kept things lively ... even if she were a bit crazy. His grandfather was more than a bit and that didn't stop Jesse from loving him. “I can't help.” She looked over at him. “You don't believe my story?" “It's a crazy story." “That it is.” She leaned forward and rubbed the side of the big gray's neck. “That it is." “So how can I believe it?” How could she expect anyone to believe it? He'd spent too many years believing in the science of solving crimes. Mystery and magic had nothing to do with real life. “I know.” She smiled at him, a smile that lit up his heart. “Your grandfather will help you. He helped me." Jesse cringed. Of course his grandfather was involved. Anytime something strange happened in his life, his grandfather had something to do with it. “Grandfather. What does Grandfather have to do with this?" “He has the proof." **** Cassidy rode next to Jesse, silence hanging between them as they headed toward Tall Trees’ home. She glanced over at him. His brow furrowed together and his lips had become a thin line. She looked ahead again as they rode past the edge of town and into an area with sparse growth. She couldn't blame him for whatever thoughts might be moseying through his mind. She didn't always believe her story herself. Not even after talking with his grandfather. Sometimes she still thought she must be under the influence of peyote and the Apache wanted something from her. Other times, when she flipped a switch and the lights came on, or she watched Jesse put something in the microwave and it came out hot seconds later, she knew she no longer resided in her own time. She looked around her and saw a shack with a rusted-out car parked to the side. A little way further along, another ramshackle building stood, a small boy playing in the dirt in front of it. The child wore a torn and dirty shirt, his face smudged with mud. A truck with several dents was parked off the roadway. Two horses were tethered to the other side of the building.

“Where are we?” she asked Jesse. She'd seen such buildings before, without the modern vehicles, in her time. Places where those with no money scraped out an existence. In this time, she hadn't seen such poverty. “On the reservation." She slowed her horse. “Why are the buildings so ... so beat up?" A look of anger flashed across his face. “The Apache are very poor. The land isn't much good for anything.” He nudged his horse ahead as though wanting to get through the area as quickly as possible. “Your grandfather lives out here?” Jesse should take better care of the old man. At his age, Tall Trees shouldn't be living like this, not when Jesse could help him. A harsh laugh came from Jesse. “It's his home. I've tried to get him to move in with me, or let me get him a house closer to town, but he won't hear of it.” He glanced over at her and shrugged his shoulders. “He's a stubborn old man. He does as he pleases." She smiled at Jesse. “I believe that.” She wiped the dust from her forehead. “He's a sweet, old man." “Sometimes." Jesse turned his horse down another dirt road and Cassidy followed. He rode up to a house in somewhat better repair than the others they'd passed and dismounted. “This is it." Cassidy slid from the gray and tied the reins to a tree branch. “You behave yourself.” She patted the horse and gave him a carrot from her pocket. Turning, she looked at the building. It could use a coat of paint, but it didn't look like it might blow over in a strong wind. Some potted cacti decorated the front porch. No dented or rusted vehicles were in the yard. “Is he home?" “More than likely.” Jesse strode toward the porch. “His car is gone." “He doesn't own one. He doesn't see well enough to drive anymore, so he sold it.” Jesse's boots thudded against the wooden steps. “Oh.” Cassidy trailed behind him. “Grandfather,” Jesse hollered and knocked on the door. Tall Trees appeared in the doorway, a smile on his face. “Come in, children. Come in. You're so nice to visit an old man." “Stop it, Grandfather. You act like I never come to visit you." Tall Trees laughed and turned to Cassidy, taking her hands in his. “Welcome, granddaughter.” He winked at Cassidy. “He's right. He's a good grandson and visits me often. It's nice he has brought you." Cassidy could not help but smile at Tall Trees. “I've brought him." Tall Trees gave her a serious look, then smiled again. “I see.” He stepped back. “Come in and visit. I have some coffee or a Pepsi if you want one."

“I'd like one very much.” Cassidy followed him inside. On the small table next to a recliner stood a kerosene lamp, exactly like the ones she'd used all her life. The room contained a couch and another table and chair. Tall Trees didn't have a television or a stereo. Through the doorway, she could see the kitchen. A wood-burning stove stood against one wall. She looked at Jesse, then back at the furnishings. Tall Trees handed her a Pepsi can, a cool but not cold Pepsi can. “I'm sorry. I don't have any ice." Cassidy looked at Jesse again. “They don't have electricity out here.” Jesse sat on the chair opposite the recliner. “Why?” How could the Apache not have electricity when everyone else in the area did? “I told you they were poor.” He placed his hat on the table. “It has always been this way, ever since the government created the reservations.” Tall Trees sat down in a green recliner with a cup of coffee in his hand. “The white man wanted to cage us. Then they wanted to forget us and hope we would disappear.” He sipped at his cup. “They never wanted to give us money to help make things better.” His tone was matter-of-fact. “With the casino, some changes have come,” said Jesse. “Eventually, everyone will have electricity.” He looked toward his grandfather. “Of course, if the old man weren't so stubborn, I'd have gotten him a generator and he could have ice and a television." “I have no need.” Tall Trees reclined the chair. Jesse laughed. “You are just stubborn, Grandfather. You don't wish your neighbors to think you are putting on airs that you're better than them, so you suffer." “I don't suffer." Jesse turned to Cassidy. “He does without the comforts he likes in order to maintain his status here on the reservation. No one would think less of him if he had a few comforts in his old age.” He turned back to his grandfather. “You do suffer. You like nothing better than your root beer ice cold and your soap operas. Why else do you visit me early in the day when I'm at work and wait?" “I have not been for a visit for a long while except when you are at home." Jesse shook his head. “Not since Cassandra arrived. You wouldn't want her to know your secrets." Tall Trees smiled. “An old man has to keep some things to himself." “Maybe you should share some of the things you know.” Cassidy looked at Tall Trees and smiled. He was a sly, old man, but a wise one. “Anytime you wish to come and visit with me while Jesse is at work, I'd love to have your company. You can introduce me to these things called soap operas." “That's the last thing you need,” said Jesse. Cassidy removed her hat and laid it on the table. “Tall Trees, I need you to tell the story of Limping Hawk and Storm to Jesse." Tall Trees looked at her, then at Jesse. He nodded slowly. “What did you say to him?" “I told him of the devil wind and being chased by his great-grandfather who wanted to steal my horse. I told him of coming from another time.” She let her hands fall limply into her lap. “He doesn't believe me."

“How can I believe such a story?” Jesse stood and walked toward the door and back to the overstuffed chair. “It's ridiculous to think such a story has any credence." “Once he believed in the magic,” Tall Trees said to Cassidy. “He grew older and away from the magic." “It is hard to believe.” Cassidy sighed. “Sometimes I don't believe it myself." A knowing smile crossed Tall Trees’ face. “You lived the magic." She stared at the old man, then Jesse. Yes, she'd lived the magic. Sometimes, she wished she hadn't, but anything, even the future where everything was so strange and people tried to kill her, was better than being dead. She nodded her head. “I lived the magic and I still find it hard to believe." “It will take him some time.” Tall Trees took another sip of his coffee. Jesse looked at both of them, then walked into the kitchen. He returned with a cup of coffee. Tall Trees set his cup down on the end table and folded his hands in his lap. “Sit, grandson. Sit and listen, and I will tell you a story." “Grandfather, I'm really not interested in a story." “This one you will find most fascinating.” Tall Trees smiled. “The story is about magic, your great-grandfather and Cassidy. Also this story has a strong, gray horse. The meanest horse your great-grandfather ever met." “He wasn't the meanest horse,” said Cassidy. “The meanest Limping Hawk ever met.” Tall Trees nodded. “I'm not listening to any stories." “Please listen—” Cassidy looked at him. “—before you make up your mind that I'm crazy.” She'd get down on her hands and knees if she had to and beg. He had to listen. “I don't believe in this nonsense.” Jesse crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes darkened and flashed. He stared into her eyes. Cassidy stared back. Finally, his gaze flickered. He threw up his arms and sat in the chair. “I'll listen. I don't believe either of you, but I'll listen." Tall Trees smiled and took a sip of his coffee. Slowly, he began the tale of Limping Hawk and Cassidy. When he finished, he rose from his chair. “Wait here. I have something to show you.” He disappeared into another room. Jesse looked at Cassidy. “No one travels through time." She shrugged her shoulders. “What can I say? It's not like I planned this or wanted this. I was quite content in my own time with my life. I wanted to deliver Jake's gold to Sonora, then head for Colorado.” She laughed. Not a calm laugh, but one tinged with hysteria she couldn't control. “Somewhere, the road took a turn. A really bizarre turn like out of a nightmare from which I can't wake up. I can't go back." “Why not? If your time and life were so great, return to them.” Jesse stood and stomped toward the

door. She watched him. Her life hadn't been great, just comfortable. She cared a great deal for the man who stood by the door, anger radiating from his body. She couldn't imagine life without him any more. She rose and walked over to him, laying her hand on his shoulder. He stiffed at her touch. “Jesse, I don't have the answers. I don't even know if I'd want to go home if I could. Nor do I have the faintest idea of how to get home. The only thing waiting on the other side of that dust devil is death." He stared out the door. “How do you know that?" Her hand dropped to her side. “I feel it." “You've been here several weeks. I'm sure Limping Hawk is gone." “How am I to survive without my horse or water in the middle of the desert? I wouldn't care to be walking to the closest town." “So you're stuck here.” He looked down at her. “With a crazy story about being from the 1800s.” He put his hands on her shoulders. His eyes narrowed. “Is this story to convince me you aren't involved in any of the strange things that've happened since your arrival?" “One has nothing to do with the other.” She brushed his hands away and stomped back to the couch. The man infuriated her. He wasn't even trying to see her side of things. “I don't know who is behind the attacks.” She sat and crossed her arms. “You don't need to bully me because you don't want to listen and consider someone else's explanation." Tall Trees walked back into the room. He smiled at Cassidy, then at Jesse. He held up old and worn saddlebags. Cassidy gasped. “My saddlebags.” She reached for them. “You have my saddlebags." “Limping Hawk kept them. He feared they had magic and throwing them away would bring evil upon him. If you hadn't disappeared, your saddlebags would have been discarded with you.” Tall Trees smiled. “But they have been passed from generation to generation. No one touched them, except..." “Except for the decoration on your hat.” Cassidy hugged the bags to her chest. “You may keep it. It looks better on your hat than on my bags. Besides, I haven't any use for them at the moment.” She carefully opened the bags. Reaching inside, she pulled out her family Bible and set it next to her. Next, she pulled out a shirt and a pair of long johns and dumped them beside the Bible. Reaching into the bottom of the saddlebags, she found the small pocket she'd sewn in the bottom. Her fingers found the cool chain for which she looked. She pulled out her mother's locket and clicked it open. Her parents stared back at her. Tears welled up in her eyes and she wiped at them. It had only been a few weeks since she'd held the locket in her hand, but it had seemed like a lifetime. She thought she'd never hold it or again look at the pictures of her parents. She clasped it to her chest and felt connected with the past and anchored in the present. Jesse looked at her. He shook his head. “None of this is possible." She held up the locket. “My parents."

He looked at Tall Trees and the old man nodded. Then he looked back at Cassidy. A frown creased his mouth. The vein on the side of his neck stood out and throbbed. He grabbed his hat and slammed out the front door. Cassidy rose to follow. Tall Trees put his hand on her shoulder. “Leave him be, granddaughter. Leave him be." “But..." “He needs time. He's a smart man. Let him go and sort through it. When he has found the answers, he will return." “In the meantime?” She looked toward the door wishing Jesse back. What if he never believed her? Would he throw her out on the street? What would she do? She straightened her shoulders. She'd lived without Jesse all her life. She could do it again if she must. She didn't want to, but she could. “In the meantime, let's go to Jesse's. I'll introduce you to soap operas. Besides, I could use a cold root beer.” The old man smiled. **** Jesse pushed Cesar to full speed as he rode through the reservation. Grandfather and his stories. He wasn't helping Cassandra with her delusions, and Jesse didn't know what to do with either of them. His Grandfather was old and fancifulness could be excused, but in a woman of Cassandra's age it needed help. Maybe he should have left her in the hospital. They may have been correct in wanting to lock her away. Her craziness didn't explain the coins or the burglaries or the attempt on her life. He stopped the horse at the top of the cliff by a large rock. Dismounting, he climbed the rock and sat at the top, looking across the reservation. When he'd been little, he'd come here often when things had gone bad. After they'd moved to Mesa, he would come to the rock every time they came to visit Grandfather. Here he could think. Here he could figure out why life took such strange turns. Here everything seemed right. He hadn't been to this rock since the day he left for his FBI training in Quantico. Life had been on a pretty even keel since he'd made up his mind to return to Apache Creek as the sheriff. Until Cassandra arrived. Then everything had been topsy-turvy. He loved her. He knew that. He didn't want to admit it—not to himself, not to her—but he knew it. She made his heart sing in a way it hadn't since he was a tiny boy and he listened to Grandfather's stories. Then life had been nothing more than playing and learning. He'd been happy all the time. Cassandra made him feel like that and he liked the feeling. She had to be crazy. What else could he think? He stared into the desert until his eyes became unfocused and the scenery blurred. He remembered her being so out of place. He remembered her wonderment at the electric lights and the television. He remembered her trying to peer into the Pepsi can as if she wanted to see the mysterious liquid she liked

so much. He'd thought her a bit strange when he'd first met her. She showed awe at so many things. Could that mean she really had traveled through time? No. It wasn't possible. It couldn't happen. His whole adult life had been fixed in facts. Forensics to prove the crime. Details that pointed to a suspect. Details and facts. That was all he knew. Fantasy and magic didn't fit into his life anymore. They weren't real. He'd learned that in school at Mesa. Only harsh reality had greeted him there. He'd stopped believing in Grandfather's stories. He'd stopped believing. Now they expected him to believe again. He didn't know if he could. She couldn't be from the past. He shook his head. It wasn't possible. It couldn't be possible. It just couldn't. His life was fact. He wouldn't believe in the magic. The back of his neck prickled. CHAPTER 15 David watched as Jesse sat on the rock, his knees pulled up to his chest. He smiled to himself. If he hadn't seen Cassidy and Jesse riding toward the reservation, he'd have never thought of this. It would make his life so simple. If Jesse were out of the way, Cassidy would have no choice but to come to him. She didn't know anyone else in the area. Jesse wouldn't be around to take care of her, but David would. Then she'd share the gold with him. He wouldn't even have to steal it. He notched the arrow and drew it back slowly, then hesitated. He'd never before shot at another human being. After all, he'd never intended to actually hit Cassidy, though he'd come awfully close. The bow and arrow was trickier than he'd first imagined. He took a deep breath. Jesse was to blame for this. He had gotten in the way. He seemed way too attached to Cassidy. David wanted her and the coins. If that meant getting rid of Jesse, he'd get rid of Jesse. He held his breath and aimed for Jesse's back. He pulled the arrow back a little farther and let go. He watched it arch into the air and descend toward the green plaid shirt covering Jesse's back. It seemed to move in slow motion. Jesse's back disappeared over the edge of the rock and the arrow slammed into the granite. Damn. How could Jesse have known? He couldn't have heard the arrow coming, but then Jesse had always had luck. He'd probably slipped from the rock by accident. Jesse would be over that rock and to his hiding place in a flash. David ran back to where he'd hidden his mount in the ravine and galloped away, keeping low in the saddle.

**** The prickling got worse. Jesse rubbed the back of his neck. Something wasn't right. He slid down. An arrow bounced off the rock and landed at his feet. Slowly, he stooped and retrieved it. He rubbed his finger over the marking. Very calmly and quietly, he crept around the rock, holding the arrow. He peered up and tried to figure the angle from which it had come. A clump of olive-green creosote bushes had to be the place. He had no cover between himself and the bushes. If he rushed the bushes, whoever shot at him would have a clear target. He drew his automatic and fired into them. Bending low, he covered the open ground quickly, rolling onto his side so he landed behind the bush, weapon aimed, and laying on his belly. No one. Jesse surveyed the surrounding area. He could see boot marks behind the bush. He sat up and tucked his feet beneath his legs. He looked at the arrow still clutched in his hand. Damn, that had been close. His stomach unknotted. Standing, he surveyed the area, but didn't see anything. Not a bush moved anywhere. The guy had to have been on horseback, but he'd disappeared into the countryside. Jesse walked back toward the rock and leaned against it. This guy had gotten really serious. When his attempt on Cassandra had failed, he'd turned on Jesse. Why? Jesse didn't have the gold. He didn't even know what she'd done with it. Grandfather probably did. Grandfather seemed to know everything. Jesse looked around and sat down in front of the rock, leaning against the sun warmed surface. Grandfather and his stories. Jesse didn't believe in magic. He believed in people trying to kill him. People had tried before to kill him. More times than he wished to count. He could understand someone trying to kill him. With methodical work, he could ferret out the man and put an end to it. All it took was hard work and facts. Lots and lots of facts. He looked at the arrow again and ran his hand over the surface. He'd find no fingerprints. None of the other arrows had had fingerprints, except the first one which had one he couldn't identify. The rest belonged to the medical staff who had removed the arrow from Cassandra's back. Who had shot Cassandra? Not his great-grandfather. That was nothing more than a hallucination brought on by the pills and his grandfather's overactive imagination in conjunction with Cassandra's imagination. Or something so terrible had brought about the attack, she'd invented a story because her psyche couldn't handle the truth. Maybe he should take her to a shrink. A doctor might be able to get her to face reality and then he could settle this matter. Before one of them ended up dead. He stared out into the desert. Why had the attacker turned on him? What possible motive could he have? Jesse let the case shift through his mind, random facts floating. If he didn't concentrate too hard, the answers would start to form. They always did. Duh! If I'm out of the way, nothing stands between the would-be murderer and Cassandra. It had to be all this talk of magic and time travel that had his mind working so slowly.

He stood. He'd better get back to Grandfather and Cassandra before something happened to them. He should probably think about moving her someplace safer than his house, but did such a place exist around the area? He could keep one of his deputies on guard when he wasn't home, but Cassandra had a terrible habit of wandering off where she pleased. He'd have to insist she stay put for her own good until he found the culprit. As if she would listen to him. He could try. He looked down at the arrow again. The shaft had a slight bend to it. So slight, he wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't looked straight down the shaft. The paint was nicked where the family mark had been made. He thought about the first arrow. It had been straight and finely crafted. The family mark had been burned in then colored. It hadn't been paint. Not like the paint on this arrow. He leaned against the rock. Things were not as they appeared. The facts didn't add up to anything. Everything was a jumble and he couldn't sort through it. His head throbbed. He bent his knee and put one foot against the rock. When he'd touched the first arrow, a tingle had run through his fingers. When he touched the rest of the arrows, he felt nothing. Nothing but wood and paint. He looked toward the sky and saw a hawk soar overhead. He watched the bird for several minutes as it did a dance, then floated toward the horizon. Suddenly it swooped down, then back up to the sky. Limping Hawk. His great-grandfather had been nothing but a horse thief. A common horse thief. More likely an uncommon horse thief, if Grandfather's story was to be believed. Jesse raised the arrow and shook it at the hawk. “I don't believe in the magic. The stories are nothing but stories told by an old man who has nothing left to do but remember the past.” When he was little, Grandfather had spent hours telling him stories. He'd told the story of how Limping Hawk had gotten his name. His great-grandfather had fallen from his horse when he was about eight and hurt his leg. For several weeks he had limped. At the same time, he had a hawk which he had trained to hunt. The hawk would sit on his perch and walk back and forth. While Limping Hawk had been limping around the camp, the bird limped back and forth on the branch. When great-grandfather's leg had healed, the hawk stopped limping. Jesse had loved the stories. He could never get enough of them. He'd believed in the magic. Before they moved to Mesa. Before the other children hated him. Before he learned to look at the facts because the facts told the truth. Not the magic. Grandfather believed in the magic. Cassandra believed in the magic. His grip tightened on the arrow. The muscles in his arm shook as he held it toward the sky. “I won't believe in the magic or the stories. There has to be an explanation. An explanation I can support with the facts."

The fact was his great-grandfather was a horse thief. Jesse laughed. The old man had to have stolen the meanest piece of horseflesh ever born in this world from the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. He'd nearly killed her doing it. Limping Hawk wouldn't have cared if he had. That was then and this was now, and somehow the two had met and tilted the world upside down. He watched as the hawk made ever widening circles in the sky. “So, what do you have to say for yourself, Great-Grandfather? You shoot a beautiful woman, steal her horse and stick me with her and the offspring of that nasty beast. What did I do to deserve this?" Had he caused it when he'd forgotten the magic? He'd left the old ways for the white man's ways. He'd found a place for himself in society. He'd found acceptance on some level. At least, people showed him respect. Was that what he wanted? He wanted Cassandra to love him. His heart told him that. He let the arrow drop to his side. “I believe,” he said softly. “I believe. None of it makes sense, but I do believe.” Actually, it explained many things—Cassandra's weapons, the coins, her attitude, her constant dismay over things, her not wanting to wear the dress Charlene had picked out for her. If he looked at those facts, it made sense. Maybe. Oh, hell, what else could he believe? She didn't exist in this time period. He'd tried to track her down everywhere. Georgia had no record of her. Arizona had never heard of a Cassandra Howard. People didn't exist without some record. Not in this century. So she could have come from a different century. Maybe if he looked there, he'd find a record of her. It would be worth a try. Then he'd have his facts. He shaded his eyes to watch the hawk again. “I believe, I think.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I believe you were a horse thief, but, if all you wanted was the horse and you're dead and gone, who the hell is after the gold?" The hawk dipped its wing and flew toward the horizon. Jesse watched as it flew out of sight. Limping Hawk couldn't answer that question either. Jesse had to find the answer before someone ended up dead. **** Cassidy tore the cellophane wrapper from the popcorn package and looked at it. She'd seen Jesse do this several times. It couldn't be that hard. She pressed the latch on the microwave and inserted the popcorn. She looked at the folded package and picked it back up, extending the ends. Placing it on the glass tray, she closed the door and pressed the buttons. She remembered Jesse putting the popcorn in for five minutes and thirty seconds. The light came on and she watched the glass tray slowly spin in the machine. It still seemed a might easier to her to pop the corn on the stove, but Jesse insisted this was faster and Grandfather wanted popcorn while he watched his soap operas.

Of course, Tall Trees didn't know how to use the microwave. He said he refused to learn these newfangled gadgets, especially when he had young ‘uns around to do it for him. She had a niggling suspicion that if she weren't there, he'd be making his own popcorn. Everything seemed fine with the popcorn. She heard a pop so she must have done it right. She turned to the refrigerator and got a Pepsi for herself and a root beer for Grandfather. After giving Grandfather his drink, she went back in the kitchen to watch the popcorn. The bag made another circle and she could hear lots of pops. She smiled, proud of herself. Maybe she'd figured out one of these newfangled objects. She heard boots on the porch at the back door. Jesse walked in, a strange scowl on his face. She studied him for a moment. He placed an arrow on the counter near her. She picked it up. “Where'd this one come from?” She couldn't imagine anyone trying to break in somewhere else. Whoever was after the gold had to realize it couldn't be anywhere but at Jesse's. He stared at her for a long moment. “Someone tried to kill me this afternoon." Cassidy grabbed the side of the counter, her knees going weak. “Oh, Lordy.” She looked from Jesse's face to the arrow and back. “Why?" “To get at you." “Me?” She shook. People had shot at her before, more than once in her life, but never had anyone tried to kill another to get at her. Jesse nodded. He wrapped his arms around her, tucking her into his chest. “If I'm not around to take care of you, then you'll be easy prey and whoever is after the gold will have access to it." “I wish I'd never seen that damn gold.” She snuggled her head against his chest, drawing strength. Having someone to lean on when things got ugly wasn't so bad. She could get along on her own, but not having to was nice. “None of this would be happening if it weren't for Jake's gold." “It's a little late for that.” He kissed the top of her head. “Now we have to figure out where I can stash you so you'll be safe." “I'm safe here.” She felt safe. Having Jesse around made her feel safe and warm. She wished he'd kiss her. “I'm so glad they missed." He laughed. “So am I.” He tilted her chin up and looked into her eyes. “You aren't safe. The gold's not safe. I'm not safe. Even Grandfather might be in harm's way." Cassidy took a step back from him. “Then it's time I moved on." A pain stabbed her in the heart. The thought of never seeing him again made her feel empty. She could stay one more night and maybe build some memories to take with her. She would quit worrying about her reputation and if he'd respect her. It wouldn't matter. She'd be gone. “I'll leave at first light." “Where will you go?” His eyebrows pulled together. “Don't rightly know, but I've got a few hours to ponder on it.” She smiled at him. “I've managed by myself before.” Where would she go? Could she find a piece of wilderness to live on where no one would bother her and she wouldn't need all those things that came with this century? Would the loneliness

kill her? It didn't matter. As long as Jesse and Tall Trees were safe. “You aren't going off anywhere by yourself. The killer followed me into the middle of the reservation. He'll follow you wherever you go. I won't be picking up the pieces of your broken body.” He put his hands on her shoulders. Not since the day her parents had died had she been so helpless. “Then what am I to do?" “I don't know.” He hugged her again. “You might be safer elsewhere until I find out who is behind this. I don't know where." “I can't stay with anyone else. That will make them a target.” She wrapped her arms around him. “I won't be responsible for anyone else getting hurt." “Neither will I." She leaned against him for several seconds. “Jesse, do you believe me?" “Believe you what?" “About being from the past?" “I'm not sure.” He hugged her tighter. “I think. Maybe. The whole thing is too crazy to be true. It's too crazy not to be true.” He sighed. “Then I think about the first arrow and how different it is from the rest and I believe.” He shrugged. “Then I don't believe." “I still don't always believe." He leaned her back and kissed her. “When don't you believe?" She shrugged. “Sometimes when all this is too much. I think I'm under the influence of peyote and Limping Hawk is going to come in and torture me any moment.” She giggled. “Then I think of all I've seen and I don't have that good of an imagination, so I believe Tall Trees’ story because I was there and experienced it." “All this started because of a mean horse." “A horse thief." Jesse laughed. “A horse thief.” He looked at her. “Do you still respect me?" She lowered her eyebrows as she looked at him. “Why wouldn't I?" “Because I'm related to a horse thief." She giggled. “Yeah, you are. You can't be held responsible for what an ancestor did. Who knows, I could have a horse thief in my lineage also.” She stepped from the circle of his arms. “Jesse, I know where we could go." “Where? Will it be safe?" “I don't know.” She clasped her hands in front of her and studied the toes of her boots for a moment. Then she looked up into his face. “Take me to Mesa so I can try and find out what happened to Jake.

Then I'll know what to do with the gold." He studied her face for several seconds and Cassidy held her breath. “That sounds like a good idea. Then I'll know for sure if your story is true, and you can say good-bye to an old friend.” He brushed her hair from her face. “Plus, if we don't tell anyone, but just disappear, you'll be safe for a bit, while I figure out this situation." “We'll leave at first light." “We'll leave right after dinner." Jesse sniffed. “I smell something burning." “Oh, my gosh.” Flames came off the sides of the popcorn bag. “Grandfather's popcorn.” She tried to open the door of the microwave. Jesse pushed her aside and hit a button. Opening the door, he grabbed the bag with tongs. “Step back.” He threw the bag in the sink and turned on the water. “Did Grandfather do this?" She shook her head. She looked at him and opened her mouth to apologize. “You did?" She nodded. “I was trying..." He laughed. The laugh came from deep down within him. “Popcorn takes five minutes in this microwave." “I know. That's what I set it for.” She looked from him to the microwave. “You must've set it for fifty minutes." She looked at the numbers. “Did I ruin it?" “The popcorn? Yes." She slapped his arm. “No. The microwave." “I'm sure it's fine. Next time, let Grandfather do it." “He said he didn't know how." “He was being lazy." “I thought that might be the case." **** Cassidy stood next to Jesse as they checked into a motel in Mesa. The trip had taken hardly any time by truck. After eating at the diner, Jesse had driven back toward home. Then he'd turned off and headed toward Mesa, being careful no one followed them. The highway had been practically empty and no one stayed with them for more than a few miles. He had finally calmed down and she had watched the desert zip past, almost too fast to see. The building sprawled out from the lobby in a rectangle, all one story. The lobby doors were all glass and two small trees in baskets sat on either side of the doors. She'd never seen such a strange hotel.

“Two adjacent rooms,” said Jesse. “And baths,” added Cassidy. Jesse looked at her and smiled. He leaned closer. “Baths come with the rooms, dear." “Really. You don't have to pay extra?” That was an improvement. She'd never gotten a bath without having to pay at least two-bits extra. Most times she'd had to be content to bath in a stream. Then, most times she'd slept on the ground. Hotel rooms were only had when she was flush and that hadn't been often. The man behind the counter gave both of them a look and shook his head. “Two adjacent rooms. That will be ninety-five dollars each plus tax. It comes to two-hundred and nineteen dollars and forty-five cents." “How much?” Cassidy gasped and took Jesse's arm, pulling him away from the registration counter. “That's way too much money to spend on a hotel room." “That's what they cost." She shook her head. Everything was so expensive. How would she ever survive in this world? “Too much. Even with a bath. We can camp somewhere for nothing." Jesse held his hand up to the man at the counter. “We'll be right back.” He pulled Cassidy over to a corner. “You can't camp just anywhere." “Why not, if the property hasn't got a house on it? I saw plenty of open spaces out there.” That didn't make sense. They had to spend over two hundred dollars for a night's lodging because they couldn't park somewhere in the desert and sleep. “I don't understand." “I don't want to camp anyway.” He smiled at her. “I want a bed and a shower." “I owe you so much money now, I'll never be able to repay you.” Jesse said the coins were worth a great deal of money, but it seemed she spent it awfully fast and she didn't even know for sure she had a right to it. It might belong to Jake's heirs. He must have had some. “Don't worry about it." “I do. Never in my life haven't I paid my own way. At least not since I was twelve." Jesse shook his head. “At twelve, someone should've been taking care of you." She straightened her shoulders. “There was no one." He took her arm. “We're getting the rooms.” He walked her back to the counter and signed a paper. Then he pulled out the strange flat thing he paid with that he called a credit card. This truly was a strange century. She couldn't spend her twenty-dollar gold pieces anywhere, but Jesse could pay with a tiny card. She shoved her hand into her pocket and rubbed the two coins she'd put there. It didn't matter she couldn't spend them. They gave her a warm feeling. Besides, she hated not having any money in her pocket. There'd been a time or two when she'd wanted a drink and didn't have two-bits to her name. At least she could jingle the coins and pretend she had money.

She followed Jesse back to the truck and he drove her around to the rooms. She lugged her suitcase, which weighed more than a saddle. She rightly didn't know what she needed with all these clothes, but Jesse had said to pack them. People seemed to put quite a stock in what they wore. Jesse opened her door and set his suitcase inside. “The bathroom is through that door.” He pointed to the one across the room. Cassidy set her suitcase down on the floor next to the bed, a huge one, like in Jesse's room. Beds were another thing in which people seemed to put a lot of stock. A burgundy and green floral comforter covered the bed. A picture of a desert landscape hung above it. On the table beside it stood a lamp and a clock with lighted numbers. She wondered what had happened to hands on clocks, but had never bothered to ask. It seemed a silly question. She turned the switch on the lamp. Nothing happened. She looked up at Jesse. “No electricity?" “You have to turn it on at the wall switch first.” He flipped a switch near the door and the light illuminated the table. “That seems silly. Why do you need two switches?" “Convenience. You can turn it on or off from the door when you come in, or from the bed.” He flipped open a panel on the wall. A soft whirring started. “It's hot in here, but the air conditioning seems to work so it should cool down in a few minutes." She went and leaned her head over the air conditioner. This modern convenience she appreciated. The cool air caressed her face and blew back her hair. Jesse came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. “I'd probably better go to my room. Or do you need anything else?" She turned in his arms and put her arms around his neck. She kissed him, letting her tongue run along his lips. He crushed her to him. Breaking the kiss, he looked down into her eyes. “I'd better go." “Stay,” she whispered. It didn't matter what Jesse said. She'd have to light out on her own soon. She didn't know where she'd be going or what she'd do to survive. She'd figure something. She always did. She wanted to have memories of this man because no other would fill her life like he did. “That probably wouldn't be a good idea.” His warm breath caressed the side of her face. His desire pressed against her. “Make me a woman." CHAPTER 16 “Are you sure, Cassandra?” He nibbled at her neck. He wanted her more than he'd ever wanted another woman, but she'd never been with a man and he didn't want her to take this step lightly. “I'm sure.” She leaned back her head. “I've thought about it a lot. I want to be with you." He picked her up and laid her on the bed. Stretching out beside her, he pulled her close, and loosened her braid so her hair fell across her shoulder. “You have such beautiful hair. Why do you always wear it

up?" “It's the proper way to wear it. Besides, it gets in the way." “Then why don't you cut it?” He'd hate to have her do so. Her hair was silken against his hand. He liked the way it fell to her hips when she wore it loose. He liked running his fingers through it. “That wouldn't be proper." “Women wear their hair short now.” He kissed the pulse in her neck and then trailed kisses to the top button on her blouse. She sighed. “It still wouldn't feel right." He kissed her, his tongue begging admittance to her mouth. Her tongue greeted his. She tasted wonderful, better than anything he could imagine. He wanted her, but he would take it slowly, gently, and not scare her. He broke the kiss and nuzzled her ear. She wriggled against him. Pulling on her ear lobe with his teeth, he caressed her back, cupping her behind and pulling her close to him. He kissed her neck again and around to the other ear. She wriggled beneath him. “That makes me tingly." “Good.” He gave her tiny kisses down her neck. He cupped her breast and rubbed his thumb across her nipple. Her body arched into his hand. He looked at her in his arms and couldn't believe she was willing to give herself to him when she'd never given herself to another man. “Cassandra, are you sure about this?" “Yes.” She pushed herself toward him. “Stop your jawing." He laughed and nipped at her nipples. “Touch me, Jesse.” She ran her fingers down his arm. “Touch me." He unbuttoned her blouse, kissing her bare skin as he worked his way down to her jeans. He cupped her bare breast in his hand and listened to the intake of her breath. With his thumb, he rubbed her rose colored nipple until it became a hard numb, then he took it in his mouth, laving it with his tongue. She writhed beneath him, pushing against him. “Do you like that?" She nodded her head. He caressed her belly and she tightened her muscles as his hand touched her skin. He rubbed the side of her hips, then down her leg, scooting the material from the jeans ahead of his touch. Cassidy reached out to him and he pulled her close. He wanted to feel her bare skin against his. He grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked, sending buttons skittering across the bed. She looked at him. “I would have unbuttoned that for you,” she said in a husky voice. “No need.” He pressed her body against his, and ran his hand over her bottom, feeling the swell and the softness of the skin.

She wriggled against him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled free the leather thong that held back his hair. She kissed the side of his face, then his ear. He sucked in his breath and turned his head so his ear was out of range. “Maybe you'd better not do that." Cassidy gave him a puzzled look. “Don't you like it?" “Oh, yeah.” He took in a deep breath. “Too much." “Then why don't you want me to do it?" “Right now, let me do the doing.” He didn't want to lose control. Not her first time. He kissed her and traced the outline of her mouth with his tongue. He caressed partway down the outside of her leg then across the top and back again. He felt the softness of her hair and the moistness that told him she wanted him. He broke the kiss and gulped for air. She grabbed his arm and buried her face against his neck. He let his fingers drift down her, curling in her hair, then between her legs. A moan escaped her and she shifted, parting her legs for him. He rubbed her in long strokes, his fingers brushing against the nub at the apex of her legs. She stiffened in his arms each time he touched the spot and gasped. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders. The pain helped him hold down his own desire. “Do it,” she begged. He took one of her nipples into his mouth and she gasped. He rubbed against the nub between her legs slowly, than faster and faster. Her body moved against his hand. He inserted two fingers inside her and moved his hand back and forth. She gasped and moved against his hand. He continued to rub her until her back arched and she cried out his name. Then he held her closely, stroking her back. He let his hand drift down to her hips, then began to rub between her legs again. Her breathing grew more rapid. Her hips moved in tune to his hand. He kissed her, then slid from the bed and shed his jeans. Climbing back on the bed, he knelt above her. He caressed the inside of her legs with light touches. She reached out to him. “Come to me,” she begged. He inserted his fingers in her, moving them in and out. Then he lowered his head and kissed her between the legs. She moaned as he flicked his tongue across her sensitive flesh. He shifted to the side, reached down for his jeans and pulled a condom from the pocket. He moved over her. She raised her hips to him. He covered her with his body and took her lips as he pressed himself against her. “It's going to hurt. For a minute,” he whispered against her lips. He kissed her hard and pressed himself slowly into her until he felt the barrier. Then he stopped and withdrew himself. Slowly he entered her again. He kissed her again and pushed past the barrier. He gathered her into his arms as she cried out. He held her tightly, unmoving, until her body relaxed. Then he withdrew and pushed himself into her again. Her hips rose to meet him. He continued, trying to hold back, until her insides quivered around him. He plunged into her one last time.

“Oh, God, Cassandra,” he cried out and he gathered her into his arms. She held him, her body trembling against his. He kissed her cheeks and her neck, then rolled to the side, cuddling her against him. She laid her head on his shoulder, her arm draped across his chest. Lazily, she drew circles on his bare skin. He kissed her forehead. She was the sweetest thing he'd ever known. No other man had ever bedded her. She belonged to him and him alone. He looked into her face. Her eyes were half closed, a contented look on her face. How had he ever gotten along without her in his life? **** “Jake's ranch was down this road a little bit.” Cassidy pointed to a road that turned off to the right. “I know that's where it was.” Things had changed, but not so much that she didn't recognize the landmarks. “It can't possibly still be there.” Jesse turned onto the street. “One of those historical landmark signs is up ahead. You don't suppose they turned his ranch into a tourist place, do you?" “Why would they do that? Jake was just a rancher.” Cassidy leaned forward. She didn't know what she looked for, but she wanted to see if the old house still stood. It would give her a link to her “present.” Her heart held out hope for the house. Her head told her she was being silly. Someone had torn the place down years ago and built something else. That is what had happened to the Mesa she knew. “Oh, look. There it is.” Cassidy squealed with delight. The old house stood. It looked as it had when she'd ridden out over a hundred years ago. Except the paint looked fresher. Jesse pulled into a parking place in front of the house. “I'll be damned. It really is an historical landmark." Cassidy jumped from the truck and stared at the house. The wide veranda still graced the front of it. Jake had always loved his veranda. He said it made him feel like a Southern gentleman to entertain on the veranda. He'd been into being gentry. Cassidy laughed. God, she missed Jake, even if he had caused her more trouble than she could handle on more than one occasion. “Which means?" “Which means they keep the place up and let tourists go through it to see how things were in past times. Don't know why Jake rates, but at least the place is still here, and maybe we can learn something about him." Cassidy took Jesse's arm and leaned into him. “Thank you for doing this for me. Jake was more than a friend. Almost like a father. I want to know what happened to him.” She gave a small laugh. “I'll bet he was one angry hound dog when that gold didn't get to Señor Rodriguez." “You may never know for sure.” Jesse wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed her on the head. “That I know.” She looked at the house. It looked so like when she'd ridden away the last time. That had been but three weeks ago for her. For the house, it had been much longer. Still, it looked the same. It seemed to welcome her home. She expected Jake to walk out on the veranda, lean against one of the poles, and light his cigar. Then he'd want to know what took her so long getting to Sonora and back. She blinked her eyes. “I miss him."

“I know you do." “Can we go in?" “Yep. That's what historical landmarks are for. People pay and go through them." Cassidy shook her head. “Everything is pay." “It'll only be a few bucks. Besides, the money goes to keeping the place up.” Jesse steered her towards the steps. “Let's see what we find." A young woman dressed in a cowgirl outfit, complete with hat, greeted them at the door. “Welcome. We'll be starting another tour of the house in fifteen minutes. Or, if you wish, you can join the tour of the outbuildings right now." “The house.” Jesse pulled out his wallet. Cassidy put her hand on top of it. She didn't want him spending any more money. Everything had gotten so expensive. “We don't have to go in." He kissed the back of her hand. He pulled out a bill and handed it to the woman. “Of course we do. We came all this way to find out something about Jake Stinson and we're going in." “We could go back to Mesa. There has to be something there." “The newspaper didn't have anything and neither did the librarian. They both told us most of the records had been lost in a fire." “You're looking for information about Jake Stinson?” the woman said. “Not many people come looking after the man who owned the place. They just want to see an old nineteenth century ranch house." “Why is this house an historical site?” asked Jesse. “The heirs didn't want to keep it up any longer, so about fifteen years ago, they offered to sell it to the state. Since a murder had been committed here, and the house was pretty much as it had been, it became an historical site. There aren't many such places still around." “I guess we're just lucky,” said Jesse. “You know about Mr. Stinson, though. That's unusual,” the woman said. “Were you related to him?" Cassidy looked at her for a moment. “In a way. You mentioned a murder." “The story will be told on the tour.” The woman handed Jesse two tickets. “We don't get relatives of Mr. Stinson. I didn't think he had any." “Not many.” Cassidy peered around the woman. The entrance looked similar, but some of the furniture had been moved. Jake used to have a small folding table in the entrance with a kerosene lamp on it. Cassidy remembered the blue flowered globe. Jake had been so proud of it. “It's nice you came to see where your ancestor lived.” The woman smiled at Jesse. “If you'll join the line, we'll start shortly." “Can we walk through the house by ourselves?” he asked.

“We don't let people wander around. Things go missing and get damaged.” She smiled again. Cassidy took Jesse's arm and they joined the small group waiting for the tour. The other two couples seemed to know each other and talked among themselves, ignoring Jesse and Cassidy. She looked around and down the hallway as they stood next to the staircase. It seemed strange not to be able to run up the stairs to the bedroom where she'd slept so many times. Within a few minutes, a guide joined the group. She was dressed as the woman at the door had been, with a tan leather fringed skirt, a matching vest over a red cowgirl shirt and a tan hat. Even her boots were tan with black etchings on them. “If you'll follow me,” said the woman, “we'll tour the bottom floor first.” She walked down the hallway, turning into a room on the right. “Please stay on the plastic runner and do not touch any of the items.” She smiled at the group. “This was the parlor." Cassidy looked around. A large red velvet sofa was placed against one wall. Two matching wing chairs were on either side of it with a table between one of the chairs and the sofa. A large gray stone fireplace took up the wall opposite the sofa. “This room would've been used to entertain guests,” the woman said. “Mr. Stinson, who owned this ranch in the 1880s, was considered one of the leading citizens in the area." Cassidy leaned over to Jesse. “Actually, everyone thought he was a rogue and no one really trusted him in his business dealings. He had a strong tendency to cheat people." Jesse laughed softly. “He hated red. That furniture isn't his." The tour guide glared at Cassidy. “If we go through here, we'll be in the dining room where he had room to have twelve guests at a sit down dinner. From what we can tell, Mr. Stinson liked to entertain.” The guide moved to the next room, the others trailing after her. “He entertained seldom. Who did he have to entertain?” Cassidy giggled. “They make him out to be such a nice man." “Wasn't he?" “He was, but one who needed watching. He even tried to cheat me every time I worked for him, and he liked me better than anyone else in the world." The tour guide stepped back to Cassidy. “If you are going to insist on talking and interrupting the tour, I'll have to ask you to leave." “I'm sorry." The woman looked so righteous Cassidy wanted to laugh. If the woman only knew. Cassidy would love to tell some stories about Jake Stinson, but she figured the man might as well go down in history as a gentleman. He certainly hadn't been one in his lifetime. Not a complete rascal, but an astute businessman, who knew when he could cheat a person and get away with it and when he couldn't. More times than not, the people he did business with, he could cheat. Not Señor Rodriguez.

Cassidy looked around the dining room. It looked about the same except new green drapes hung from the windows. Jake would have hated them because they were floral. Jake never had anything feminine in his house. Never. “In here is Mr. Stinson's study. He conducted business in this room.” The guide opened a door and walked into the study. Cassidy stopped at the door and gasped. Jake's beautiful desk stood in the same spot it had when she'd put her booted feet on it. The chair where she'd sat still stood in front of the desk. She held the door frame for a moment. Jesse wrapped his arms around her. “Are you okay?” he whispered. “It looks like it did when I left. The pile of papers Jake always had on his desk are even there. That's the chair where I sat while we argued about me going to Sonora." The guide gave Cassidy another dark look. “Jake Stinson was found murdered by his business partner in this room." “His business partner? Jake didn't have a business partner.” Cassidy clamped her hand over her mouth. She hadn't meant to say that out loud. It had slipped out. She knew for a fact Jake didn't have a business partner. He had had one once. It had been five years before she'd last seen Jake that the partnership had been dissolved. Mr. Humphrey had been a crook. In fact, the partnership had been dissolved when the man landed in prison. “Excuse me, but you've interrupted again,” said the guide. “This has been carefully researched and the facts are clear. The business partner arrived on March 4th, 1884, to meet with Mr. Stinson and found him shot to death at his desk." “March 4th,” hissed Cassidy. “That was the day I left." “If you look at the newspaper clippings on the wall, you'll see the whole story.” The guide pointed to several frames near the door. “I thought there weren't any records on Jake Stinson.” Jesse looked behind him. “Who would have told you that?” The guide glared at him. “The newspaper people and the librarian in Mesa.” Cassidy glared back at the woman. She didn't like the woman's attitude. “If his business partner found him, he probably shot him. They hadn't talked in five years." “How would you know that?” The woman tilted her head and looked down her nose at Cassidy. Cassidy raised herself to her full height. “My family knew the Stinson family very well." “I doubt that.” The woman gave her a haughty smile. “You're one of those who come in here from time to time trying to make us believe you know something we don't. He and his business partner had vast holdings in the area." “Jake owned quite a bit for the time. He was wealthy and a scoundrel, but his business partner was a thief and should've been in prison at the time.” Cassidy remembered when George Humphrey had gone to prison for robbing a bank in New Mexico. The man had been stupid. He thought if he could get the five thousand dollars he'd stolen from Jake back on the books, Jake would never find out and the

partnership would continue. However, Mr. Humphrey had gotten caught and sent to prison. Jake discovered the embezzlement and ended the partnership. Humphrey shouldn't have been out of prison for another ten years. What had he been doing at Jake's ranch? “Mr. Humphrey was a well-respected citizen. In fact, all of Mr. Stinson's estate went to Mr. Humphrey.” The guide walked toward the door. “Why would Jake leave his ranch to that man?” Jake had hated Humphrey. He'd groused about him often enough, telling Cassidy what a mistake he'd made in taking him on as a partner. The fact Humphrey had had money and Jake none in the beginning didn't enter into Jake's perception of things. “He didn't. He left his estate to a Cassandra Howard.” The guide turned away again. “Now if we're ready to move on." Cassidy sucked in a big breath and stepped backwards, her hand at her throat. She bumped into Jesse. He put his hands on her shoulders. “Did you leave something out of this story?” he asked. “No.” She shook her head. “I never dreamed. I thought Jake didn't have any family. He never married. I don't know if he had any children, but he never claimed any or talked about them.” She lowered her voice. “I guess I was the closest thing to a daughter he had." “Why didn't the estate go to this Cassandra Howard?” asked Jesse. “If he left a will, I'd think even back then it would have to be honored." The guide turned back. “I'm sure everyone isn't interested in this." A tall, gray-haired man from the group spoke up. “I'm interested. Murder and heirs are always interesting." The guide humphed. “Very well. Cassandra Howard was never found. Since no one in town seemed to know who she was, the business partner provided papers proving his claim. Since then, the ranch has passed to his heirs." “Forged papers.” Cassidy looked at the chair behind Jake's desk. She saw him sitting there, frowning at her because she had her boots on his prize desk. She couldn't imagine his slumped figure lying across the desk. She didn't want to. She wanted to remember Jake as she'd last seen him, waving good-bye to her as she and Storm left the ranch. “Why did I go?” She turned to Jesse. “If I'd told him no and stuck by it, he'd have lived. None of this would've happened. All this trouble because I gave in to him." “It isn't your fault, Cassandra.” Jesse gave her a hug. “You had no way of knowing that guy would show up and kill Jake. Nor did you know Limping Hawk would steal Storm from you." “Now you believe me." Jesse shrugged his shoulders. “It's hard not to. Look at the picture hanging behind Jake's desk." Cassidy turned to see a picture of her and Jake together at a Fourth of July picnic. The photographer had shown up that day and Jake had insisted he wanted a picture of his best girl. Cassidy had laughed. She

was in her buckskins and looked more like a boy than a girl. Jake had the picture taken so he could remember her when she was gone. Jake had left her everything. She'd have been rich. If she'd stayed, Jake would have been alive and she'd be in her own time fighting with him, drinking his whiskey and smoking his cigars. She could have put a few more scratches on his desk. “Are you quite ready to continue?” asked the guide. Her tone held anger. “No,” said Jesse. “If the business partner didn't kill Stinson, who did?" “Yeah,” said the woman holding the gray-haired man's arm. “Who did kill him?" “That part of the story will be continued upstairs when we tour the second story. There I can show you where the murderer slept." “We don't want to wait,” said the second woman. “No,” said Jesse. “We want to know now.” He pulled Cassidy back toward him, enfolding her in his arms. “Oh, very well.” The woman took a deep breath. “The story goes that Jake Stinson was buying cattle from a man in Sonora and hired someone to take a bag of gold there to complete the transaction." Cassidy nodded her head. This part of the story she knew. Too well she knew this part. “The rider left the morning of March 4th after killing Mr. Stinson.” The guide smiled as she told the story. “What?” asked Cassidy. “If you want to hear the story, you need to listen and not be talking." “I wasn't talking,” snapped Cassidy. “I don't think I heard you correctly." “Of course you did. Cassandra Howard killed Jake Stinson and stole the gold he had entrusted to her." CHAPTER 17 Cassidy's knees buckled and she slipped from Jesse's arms to the floor. He hunkered down next to her. “Are you all right?" She shook her head. “I didn't do it." “It's okay. The statue of limitations has run out on it, even if it is murder. Anything over a hundred years can't count.” He tried to make his comment sound light. Cassidy had a pasty look to her face and he didn't want her fainting. “I didn't steal the gold.” She looked up into his eyes. “I mean I still have it. I was heading for Sonora with it.” A shudder went through her body. “Jake was dead the whole time." “Are you okay?” The tour guide bent over Cassidy. Cassidy nodded her head.

“She's a little shaky. She sustained an injury not too long ago.” Jesse lifted Cassidy to her feet and leaned her against his chest. “We may have overdone it today." “Would a glass of water help?” The tour guide's face had paled and she worried her hands in front of her. “Yes, thank you,” said Cassidy. The tour guide left the room. “Are you sure you're okay?” Jesse whispered. “I'll take you back to the truck if you want." “I want to stay.” She pushed herself away from Jesse and walked to the desk. Reaching over the rope that cordoned off the desk from the plastic runner, she ran her fingers along the edge of the desk. She turned back to him. “Scratch marks from my boots. Boy, did that make Jake mad at me." She moved the cigar box a few inches to the right and the pen and ink stand directly above the stack of papers. Taking the silver letter opener, she placed it crosswise on the papers. She nodded her head. “Much better. Jake never moved anything on his desk. He liked it just so." “Hey,” a tall, dark haired man said. “You shouldn't be touching anything." The rest of the group nodded. A young, blonde woman pulled out her digital camera. “If she can touch things, then I can take some flash pictures while the guide's out of the room." A small, older woman glared at both of them. “Both of you need to show some respect. The guide said not to touch anything and no flash pictures." The young woman humphed, but she turned off her camera. Cassidy stared at all of them for a moment then turned back to Jesse. Tears rimmed her eyes. “Why?" “Money.” Jesse pulled her into his arms. “Money." “Mr. Humphrey had to have escaped from prison. They wouldn't have let him out after only five years." “They let them lose nowadays long before they're supposed to.” He'd seen too many criminals allowed back on the street to terrorize innocent citizens. She clutched his shirt. “Jake should've been more careful. I always told him he should learn to use a pistol instead of relying on bodyguards. He hated carrying weapons. Said it made him seem ungentlemanly." “You might've been killed if you'd stayed.” The thought of her laying dead next to Jake made his stomach churn. He shook his head. If she'd died with Jake, he'd never have known her. “Almost ended up that way anyway.” She gave Jesse a little smile. He hugged her. “I'm glad you didn't." “Even with all this past." “Even from the past.” So maybe he believed in the magic a little. “I want to read the newspaper article.” Cassidy moved toward the door.

The tour guide entered and handed Cassidy a glass of water. She stood, waiting. Cassidy drank the water and handed the glass back. “Thanks.” She looked up at the framed paper on the wall. “Are we ready to go?” The tour guide tried to make her voice sound cheerful. The two couples stood in the middle of the runner, watching Jesse and Cassidy. They nodded vigorously. Jesse almost laughed at the looks on their faces. They seemed like they wanted to run, but weren't sure to where. He and Cassidy had given them something to talk about when they got home. “She wants to read the newspaper article, then we'll go,” said Jesse. The tour guide nodded. “We'll wait until she's through, then I'll show you upstairs." “I know where the bedrooms are,” said Cassidy. The tour guide looked to Jesse then Cassidy. “I'm not supposed to leave anyone alone in here." Jesse pulled out his identification. “I'm in law enforcement. I promise we won't steal anything. If anything is damaged or missing, you can get me at the Apache Creek sheriff's station." She hesitated, then motioned for the others to follow her. She hurried the group out into the hall. Cassidy read out loud. “Jake Stinson's body was found this morning by George Humphrey. Stinson had been shot once in the head. Humphrey stated he arrived at the ranch mid-morning for a meeting with Stinson. Humphrey has been back East for the last five years tending to his and Stinson's holdings there. “The ranch foreman told Sheriff Johnson that Cassandra Howard, known as Cassidy, had been seen arriving at the ranch house the previous night. The foreman saw her leave early in the morning, carrying a pouch. “The foreman informed the sheriff that Stinson was purchasing cattle from Sonora and had needed someone to deliver the payment in gold. Stinson had originally been going to send the foreman, but changed his mind and decided to send Miss Howard instead. “Miss Howard had worked for Stinson on many other occasions, including during the land battle with his neighbor, Lyle Grayson. At that time, Miss Howard worked as a hired gun and is known to have killed at least three men during the fight over the land. “Sheriff Johnson imagines that Miss Howard argued with Stinson over the price of her services and killed him when he wouldn't pay what she asked. The foreman told the sheriff he heard angry voices coming from Stinson's study during the early evening. “The sheriff figures she saw her chance, took the gold and rode out after shooting Stinson. He will do everything possible to capture her and return the gold to Stinson's estate. Sheriff Johnson sent a posse after Miss Howard, but they did not find her. They had to turn back when they encountered a band of Apache off the reservation. “The town of Mesa mourns for one of its leading citizens and hopes Miss Howard will be returned shortly for hanging.” Cassidy's voice trailed off. “I don't believe they thought I'd kill Jake.” She turned toward Jesse.

“I'm sorry." Pain shone from her eyes. She'd lost a friend. One she'd known was dead, but had assumed dead from old age. “Leading citizen. I can't believe they printed that. Hardly anyone in Mesa liked Jake. Especially after he decided he wanted part of Grayson's land and got it.” She shook her head. “I never would've hurt him. I loved him. Not like a beau, but I loved him, despite all his faults." “I know you did.” She hadn't loved Jake like a woman loved a man, but as a friend, a mentor. “Did you really kill three men?" “Huh?" Jesse studied Cassidy. She was a small woman. Even for the 1800s, she was a small woman, but she did know how to use a weapon. He supposed she could be quite formidable if the occasion arose. “The article. It said you killed three men in the range war.” It didn't seem possible she'd killed anyone. He thought of her as needing protection. Maybe he should rethink that. He might want to put her on as a deputy. She'd probably outdo the three he had. She shrugged. “I don't know. It wasn't one of those occasions where you took count." “Then why would they say that?" “Jake's foreman hated me. He disappeared when the fighting started and didn't show up for three days. He used to spread gossip about me all the time. Tried to make everyone believe I shared Jake's bed once. Jake practically took off his head over that one." “Why'd Jake keep him on?” Obviously, Jake had loved Cassidy as much, if not more, than she had loved him. A twinge of jealousy shot through his heart. He wanted Cassidy to be his and his alone. “'Cuz he was damn good at running a ranch and Jake knew as much about cattle as he did weapons.” She smiled. “Jake had the money to buy the help he needed and he always bought the best." “So how many men did you kill?" She slugged him in the arm. “Don't rightly know and don't rightly care. I took cover behind the biggest wagon we had, kept my head down and fired at whoever came my way. I wasn't rightly looking over the edge to see if I hit anyone." “Where'd this fight take place?" “Out front.” She took Jesse's hand. “I'll show you. Then I want to find Jake's grave." “If Jake was the aggressor, why'd the fight take place out here?" “The foreman kept ambushing Grayson's men. It finally came down to an attack by Grayson. We had thirty men. He had twenty. Grayson rode in, but didn't ride out. Most of his men did. Once Grayson went down, they turned tail and ran. I suppose I hit someone. Someone got me that day. Winged me in the shoulder, and I spent two weeks upstairs mending." “Where was Jake during all of this?” He'd never thought about the fact she might have been hurt in all this nonsense. She was a woman. Not a gun fighter. What was Cassandra Howard really? She'd fallen into his life clutching a bag of gold coins and a

Winchester with a Colt strapped to her hip and a knife tucked in her boot. She'd lived in a violent environment and made her living by violence. Would she be able to adapt to his time where the world was still violent, but people were expected to react non-violently? Would she be able to learn not to carry weapons with her at all times? He looked at the hair that hung down her back in a thick braid and the soft curves of her hips as she walked in front of him toward the door. Her image belied the truth behind the woman. **** Cassidy sat cross-legged next to Jake's grave. She sat there for quite a while, remembering the times with Jake. He'd been a rascal, but he'd been her friend. The only person she could call friend. He hadn't deserved a bullet in the head. She'd watched Wilma and Charlene and their simple banter back and forth and the way they seemed to know what the other one thought. She'd seen other women with friends like that. She'd never had a woman for a friend. Only Jake. She'd loved Jake. He'd been the only family she'd had after her parents were killed. No one had wanted a twelve-year-old girl. She couldn't plow or work the stock. She'd had no value. Jake had seen value in her, even when she couldn't do anything. She'd learned though. She'd learned to survive in a man's world and best most of the men she met. With Jake, there had never been any contest. He didn't carry a weapon. He let Cassidy or someone else defend him. He made money and led a life of pleasures. The nice thing about Jake was he'd shared whatever he had with Cassidy. Of course, when he hired her, he always tried to cheat her on her pay. He wouldn't be Jake if he didn't try to skim from the top. However, when it came to sharing what he got pleasure from, he was never stingy. He lectured her on drinking and smoking, but always let her have as much whiskey and as many cigars as she wanted. He let her sleep in a bed with a feather mattress. The room had been hers whenever she wanted to stay. No one else ever stayed in that room. He always gave her plenty of food. Storm had his own stall in the barn used only by him. Jake had been family. Now she had no family. She hadn't expected to find Jake alive. Not after over a hundred years. She hadn't expected to find he'd died before she'd ridden ten miles. She'd told him riding to Sonora was a bad idea. Bad all the way around. Bad for him. Bad for her. She could have protected him. She wouldn't have run into those damn Apaches. She wouldn't have met Jesse. She looked up. Jesse leaned against a tree waiting for her. He was close enough she knew he was there, but far enough away he didn't intrude. Maybe riding to Sonora wasn't all bad. She studied Jesse's face. He appeared to be thinking. Probably about who was behind the strange occurrences. He was a handsome man—Apache, but handsome, and somewhere along the way, she'd fallen in love with him.

She wasn't sorry she loved him. She hadn't really known love since her parents died, but this was a different kind of love. The love she felt for Jesse filled her soul and made it sing. Being around him made her happy. She couldn't imagine life any more without him in it. She sighed. How she'd come to fall in love with an Apache she'd never figure out. She'd spent most of her life hating them and fearing them. In her original time, that was a sane action. Her people had been at war with Jesse's people. Her people had won, but his had put up one hell of a fight. She looked back at Jake's grave. Jesse, like Jake, had so much. They both collected objects and surrounded themselves with wealth and belongings. She only had what was necessary. She'd never seen any reason to collect a lot of things. They slowed her down when she wanted to move on, and move on she'd done. Often she'd moved on. Not because she had to do it. She could have stayed with Jake forever. He'd have welcomed her company. She liked traveling around and seeing new things. She always found new battles that needed fighting. She'd even helped defend a couple of small ranches from Apache attacks. She lived for the excitement. In the now, she wondered if she would be able to find that excitement again. She glanced at Jesse through her eyelashes. Was he the kind of man who wanted excitement in his life? She didn't think so. He wouldn't have quit the FBI and become a small town sheriff if he did. He wanted quiet and things. She wanted excitement and no clutter. She loved him. She wanted him. She knew, deep in her heart, she couldn't have him. Once he found the man with the arrows, she'd be safe and she wouldn't have any reason to stay with him. Then it would be time to move on and he'd be glad to be shed of her. What other feelings could she expect him to have? He'd lost so many of his belongings because of her. He'd nearly lost his life. She was nothing but a nuisance. “Good-bye, Jake. I'll miss you.” She stood and brushed the dirt from her jeans. “I'll miss you so much. Why aren't you here when I really need you?" Jesse pushed himself away from the tree. “Are you ready to go?" “Yeah.” She linked her arm in his. For the moment she could pretend he belonged to her. When she'd thought of going to California or Colorado, it had been to look for a husband. One who hadn't heard of her reputation and wouldn't be afraid of her. She'd found the man she wanted, and in Arizona. Unfortunately, he wasn't in the right time period. “We'll get another motel for the night.” He patted her hand as they walked to the truck. “It wouldn't take us that long to get home." “Afraid to spend the night with me?” He arched his eyebrows at her. She laughed and swatted his arm. “Not in the least. I'd have no problem repeating last night.” She kicked at the dust. “You miss him." “Very much. He was the only friend I ever had."

“You can come back and visit whenever you want." Cassidy smiled at him. “It's not the same." “I know.” He wrapped his arm around her and drew her to his side. “I've buried friends." “Take me back to your house." “It'll be safer to stay in Mesa until I capture the man who's after you." “And do what?” She leaned against the door of the truck. “I've never run from a fight in my life. Well, not since I was fourteen. The problem isn't going to go away because we take a vacation. He's waiting for us to return. We won't find him in Mesa." “You'll be safe.” He patted her shoulder. “I'll leave you here." “I won't hide, Jesse." “Here he can't get to you." “How long do I hide?” She looked at him. “A month? A year?" “He'll make a mistake. Then it'll be over." “I won't sit and wait. We have to do something to find him." “I don't know what else to do. He leaves no fingerprints or other evidence we can use against him. He moves in and out with ease. No one sees him or hears him. He leaves those damn arrows to mislead." Cassidy laughed. Limping Hawk would probably think it funny also. “Poor guy doesn't know he's imitating an Indian who's been dead for probably fifty plus years. He thinks he's imitating some local crook." Jesse smiled. “It is pretty funny. He had me convinced, but I won't tell him if you don't. I don't want him changing his MO now." “His what?" “Modus operandi. The way he does things." “Oh.” She studied his face. He put such store in all of his facts. The sheriffs she'd known relied on instinct and what others could tell them. Fingerprints and MOs weren't something they ever discussed. She placed her fist against his stomach. “What does your gut tell you?" “That I'm overlooking something. Something important." “Then stop looking at all your facts and concentrate on what your gut tells you. Maybe you'll figure it out." Jesse pulled her close and kissed her. “You're a lot of help." “I don't know anything. I hardly even know anybody.” She shrugged her shoulders. “There has to be something we can do, but not from Mesa. It's time to go home and put an end to this." “I don't want you hurt."

“Me either. One arrow in the back in a lifetime is enough.” She climbed into the truck. Jesse walked around and climbed in the cab. He started the engine. “How do we draw him out?" “He wants my gold coins. We make him think he can get them." “You make it sound so simple.” Jesse turned onto the highway. “Do you have a plan?" “You're the sheriff. You're supposed to have a plan." “Oh. Why is that?" “Every sheriff I ever rode with on a posse had a plan.” She laughed. “Not always a good one. I remember Sheriff Akin from a town south of Mesa. He was after these three bank robbers. They'd cleaned out the local bank and three others. Everyone wanted them.” She leaned over the seat and pulled a Pepsi from the cooler. “You want a drink?" “No, thank you." Cassidy settled back in the seat. “Anyways, the bank robbers were ahead of us by no more than half an hour. They were real easy to track. Akin had deputized ten of us figuring that would be enough to handle three bank robbers. We followed them out into the desert. Akin refused to stop at sunset, saying we'd catch up to them by moon rise. We all followed.” She popped open her can and took a swig. “We kept after them all night. The tracks kept going, or so we thought. Akin had the best tracker in the territory he said. I wondered how the man could even see to track. The moon was only a quarter that night and the night awfully dark. I questioned a couple of times where we were going. We should have come across the men long before then. I had a feeling we weren't heading in the same direction they were. “Finally the sun came up. We'd been following our own tracks for hours. Somehow the tracker got us going in circles in the middle of the night and we'd traveled the same few miles around and around." Jesse laughed. “So did you ever find the bank robbers?" “Naw. They probably heard us and lit out. We'd made so many tracks we never did pick theirs up again.” She shifted in the seat so she could face him. “I never rode on another posse with Akin. I'd heard other stories about things that happened on his posses. One came back with five dead men, all from the posse. I decided I'd be wise to work for someone else." “So. Am I an Akin or someone else?" She laughed. “Can't rightly say. I haven't heard your plan yet." “I don't have one. He's bound to strike again, but I want to make sure you're not in the line of fire." “I'm the one he wants. I'm the one who knows where the gold is.” She wasn't sharing that information with anyone, not even Jesse. She trusted him, but she didn't want him to have to carry the burden of knowing. “If he kills me, no one will ever find it." “You're not going to tell me where it is, are you?" “Nope." “It would be better if I knew."

“It's better if you don't.” She looked across the desert. She'd spent most of her life living here. Mostly it was open with only bits of green. Not the green she remembered from when she was little in Georgia, but a yellowish-green that spoke of hardships and little water. A color saying the plants were half dead or half alive. She loved the desert. “We need to set a trap. I'm tired of being the one hunted." “What kind of a trap?” Jesse glanced over at her. A look of worry crossed his face and his eyes flashed darkly. “I won't have you put in jeopardy." “I can take care of myself.” The trap had to be something for which the man would fall. She had to make him believe she'd moved the gold. “I remember this wolf. He kept hunting Jake's cattle. All the men took a try at killing that wolf, but he got bolder and bolder. He'd come right down to the house, but no one ever saw him. He'd sneak in and out without a sound. “I spent a week studying the tracks he left. He always came in from the west, circled into the calf pens, killed a calf, ate his fill and departed through the grazing ground and herds. I sat out there every night for a week watching for that animal. He never came near. I think he could smell me. “Finally, I climbed into the pen where Jake kept the calves. I found me some mud and covered myself with it. Damn near got trampled by a couple of mama cows. They are the stupidest animals. The wolf finally showed about three in the morning. Guess he figured we'd all given up and gone to bed. Fact was, I nearly fell asleep in the mud.” She took another drink of her Pepsi. “I got him. I planted myself where he couldn't detect me. I figured out where he'd go and what he'd do and what I had to do to best him. That's what we have to do with the guy and the gold." “Cassandra, it'll be dangerous." “Life is dangerous." Jesse took her hand and pulled it to his lips. “I don't want anything to happen to you." “Me either.” Did he really care for her? She wanted to believe that. More than anything, she wanted to believe that, but she wasn't sure she could. “I've never been one to not think of the chances of getting injured before I took a job." “This isn't a job. I won't let you put yourself in danger." “No, this isn't a job. This is my life.” She wanted it back without someone hunting her. When Limping Hawk had chased her down, he'd wanted Storm. There'd been no malice or stalking. The guy who was after the gold had become a constant threat. An evil seemed to pervade what he did. “I can't live this way anymore. I have to do something to make him think I'm moving the gold." “Like what?" “I could move out of your house.” She hated that thought. Being alone in this century overwhelmed her, but if it trapped the guy, she'd give it a try. Besides, once they had him, she'd have to move on anyway. “You're not going anywhere." “Then have you got any ideas." “Give me two days. If I haven't come up with something, then we'll try it your way." “What do you plan on doing?"

“I could let it be known I'm selling the coins and will be moving them in a couple of days." “That might work. Can you really sell them?" “I planned on doing that once I was sure who the gold belonged to. It's your gold. If you want me to sell it, I can. Then you'll have money to spend on whatever you need or want." “I've never had much money at one time before. Most times, hardly had any.” All that money belonged to her. She could have all those things Jesse had. She wouldn't know what to do with them. She could replace all the things Jesse had lost because of her. “You'll have enough to keep you. You won't have to worry about working." “That's nice.” She settled back in the seat and watched the desert race by the window. “Do you think it'll work? Making him think you're moving the gold." “I hope so. I can actually dispose of the gold, then he won't have a target any longer." She thought for a moment. Shoving her hand into her pocket, she rubbed the two coins she carried. She wasn't ready to part with the gold. It connected her to her time and Jake. She missed her time. She missed her life. “I don't think so. I'm not ready to sell the coins yet." “Cassandra, it's the sane thing to do." “No." “You planning on saving them as souvenirs of your past life?" “Maybe." He looked over at her. “You aren't thinking of going back?" She stared into his eyes. What did she see there? Was it longing, desire, love? She wished she knew. “I don't know if I can go back." “You can't want to. Things were so ... rustic ... hard." “It was my life and I miss it." “They'll hang you for Jake's murder if you go back." “It's a chance I might want to take.” She looked away. The only reason she'd want to stay here was Jesse, and she wasn't the kind of woman he'd want. She didn't have the polish. She was rustic and hard. Things he didn't like. Going home. The idea grew on her. All she'd have to do is figure out how. She could get the gold and disappear. Then the incidents that plagued Jesse would stop. He'd be at peace again. She'd leave some of the gold with Jesse to pay for her room and board and the destruction. The rest she'd take with her. She'd give him the two days. Two days to store up memories of Jesse. Then she'd ride out to the desert. She'd passed through from the past. There had to be a way to pass through to the past. She'd find it.

She wanted to go home where she understood things. She wanted to go home where Jesse wouldn't see her broken heart when she had to leave him. Two days and she'd go home. If she could. CHAPTER 18 Cassidy leaned her elbow on the scarred wooden table and put her chin in her hand. She'd agreed to give Jesse two days, but she didn't like it. She wanted the whole thing finished. She looked around the dark bar. From the walls, orange and yellow signs flashed the words Budweiser. Music came from a machine that lit up when someone deposited coins in it so people could dance. The dance floor was a small square ringed with circular wooden tables like the one at which she sat. The tops had water stains from glasses. Booths set against the walls, the seats covered in red vinyl. Off to one side stood a billiard table where a game proceeded. The smell of cooking ribs filled the small room. Cassidy saw Charlene dancing with a cowboy. She had to smile. Charlene seemed to have fun wherever she went. Several men had come up to ask Cassidy to dance, but it hadn't taken more than a glance from her to send them skittering off in search of someone else. She picked up the drink Charlene had ordered her, took a sip and grimaced. It had more sugar than anything else. She waved to the waitress. “Bring me a whiskey, straight up.” Since she'd given up the pain pills, she might as well enjoy what she drank. The woman gave her a strange look, but scribbled on her paper. Cassidy didn't mind the idea of dancing. The men seemed friendly enough, but not overly friendly. The problem was she hated to admit how badly she danced. Especially the jumping around they called dancing when the speed of the music picked up. She pulled her pocket watch from her blue jeans and checked the time. Jesse had said he'd only be a couple of hours and to go ahead to the bar with Charlene. He'd be along as soon as he finished work. He was up to something to flush the varmint out of hiding. That was another thing. She hated being cut out of the middle and not knowing what was happening. She picked up her drink the waitress had delivered and took a swig. That was better. Those flowery drinks Charlene preferred didn't settle well on Cassidy's stomach. She shifted in her seat and glanced toward the door, willing Jesse to come through it. “He'll show up sometime soon.” Charlene sliding into her seat. “I expect so." “He doesn't much like this place, so he probably won't show much before eleven, then take you home.” Charlene sipped her drink. “Then why did he send me here?” Cassidy tried to understand Jesse, but sometimes the man did the strangest things. If the place wasn't appropriate for him, why would he want her there? “'Cuz it's one of my favorite places.” Charlene gave her a crooked smile. “I wouldn't want to take any of these guys home with me. They can be jackasses without even trying. But they sure do like to dance and are good at it. So, girlfriend, when I want to go out and dance until my feet are ready to fall off, I come

here. Especially when I can't get Jesse to go with me." “That doesn't say why I'm here.” Cassidy had always thought herself an unusual woman, but after meeting Charlene, she wasn't as sure. Charlene flirted with anything in pants, but then walked away from them and they seemed to take her “no” politely. “He thought you'd like to get out of the house and he knew I'd take care of you.” Charlene looked around the room. “Oh, there's Henry. I have to go dance with him.” She turned back to Cassidy. “You really should dance with some of these guys. They may look like they'll bite, but they won't." Cassidy laughed. “I'm not worried about that. I'm worried about their feet. My dancing is awful. I don't understand where I'm supposed to put my feet, but they always seem to end up on top of my partner's.” With her boots on, she could do some real damage. “Jesse loves to dance." “Yes, he does, but he's not here.” He didn't seem to mind when she stepped on him. “We have to do something about this. Starting next week, I'll give you dance lessons.” Charlene nodded her head. “Yep. That's what I'll do. Dance lessons.” She gave Cassidy a knowing smile. “Got to keep the man happy and that's one way." The heat rose in Cassidy's face and she turned away. “I'm going outside and get some cool air." Charlene patted Cassidy's hand. “I'm sorry you're not having a better time. I thought you'd like this place." Cassidy shrugged. “I never was much for dancing.” She smiled at Charlene. “Now a good hand of poker..." Charlene laughed. “I'll remember that. Don't wander away from the door. Most of the men are fine, but dark parking lots are not for a woman alone." “All right.” Cassidy had never traversed a dark parking lot alone in her life, but she'd spent many a night alone in the wilderness. She was sure nothing in the parking lot could be more dangerous than the wild animals and men she'd met in the past. **** Jesse pulled out onto the road leading to town from his home. He hated the fact Charlene had wanted to take Cassandra to that redneck bar. Charlene knew most of the men in the place and would take care of Cassandra, but he'd promised to stop by and get her. He wasn't a welcome sight in Pete's Bar and Grill. Charlene knew that, but she liked to flaunt the fact she was a friend of the sheriff and didn't give a damn she might start World War III by having him come into the bar. Charlene always liked to stand people on their ears. She went where she liked, when she liked and didn't care what anyone had to say about it. Then, she'd never had people look down on her, treat her as if she was less than they were. He'd thought he'd left that behind when he joined the FBI, but he'd found the same prejudice there. Now, those who would look down on him because of his Apache blood gave him a wide berth because of his badge. He supposed that was enough. He glanced at the glowing dial of his watch. Nearly eleven, so he'd probably better pick up Cassandra.

She hadn't seemed overjoyed about going with Charlene. He'd tried to tell her it would do her good to go out with the girls, but she didn't seem to care. He'd wanted to go back to his office and didn't want her alone in the house. He'd gone over the evidence again. What he had of it. He couldn't believe the guy left nothing at the crime scenes. No one was that good. All he had were those damned arrows. He'd eliminated all of his family members. Cousin George couldn't pull a bow and arrow, and Grandfather wouldn't do anything to hurt Cassandra. Besides, what would either of them want with the gold? They didn't have a greedy bone in their bodies. That was all the family he had left on the reservation. It could be someone with a grudge against him, but who? By hurting Cassandra, the perp would make Jesse look bad. However, except for putting some people's necks out of joint, he hadn't really ticked off anyone. The biggest crime spree they'd had was when those three teenage boys got drunk and decided to spray graffiti on all the buildings down Main Street. They'd scrubbed and painted. Then they'd cleaned and planted the park. It looked real nice now. Jesse chuckled to himself. The boys had been a sorry sight when he'd caught them red-handed. That was what he liked about Apache Creek. He mostly dealt with drunks on Friday and Saturday nights, cats stuck in trees, trucks stuck in the mud and an occasional argument between the rednecks and the Apache. Until these damn arrows started showing up everywhere. The prickle at the back of his neck had become a constant the last few days. He'd overlooked the obvious and he couldn't figure out what that was. Jesse smiled to himself again. He'd set his trap and baited it. The whole matter would be over by tomorrow. His gut told him this would work. The best part was he'd kept Cassandra out of it and out of harm's way. She wouldn't understand how much he cared for her and how worried he was she would get hurt. He chuckled as he drove along the deserted road. He'd lunched at the Parkhouse Cafe. He'd invited David to meet him so he'd have someone with whom to talk. He hadn't wanted Cassandra to know what he was doing. He'd explained to David—in a voice loud enough to carry at least two tables and while Wilma was serving them—that he had a buyer for the gold coins. The transaction would take place tomorrow. Jesse would take the coins into Glendale and meet the buyer. Whoever was behind this surely would have heard by now. After all, no one would be able to keep the secret. They'd all be talking, just like they'd been talking since Cassandra had arrived. Then he'd have his thief. Then he could concentrate on Cassandra. **** David waited in the bushes. Jesse had agreed to pick up Cassidy at eleven at Pete's Bar and Grill. He'd have to drive along this way. David fingered his bow and arrow. He'd finish this tonight. If Jesse had a buyer, he had to know where the coins were hidden ... and he'd gladly trade them for Cassidy. Of course, if he could get them from Cassidy first, so much the better. David didn't want to go up against Jesse if he could help it. To pull off his scheme and get the coins before Jesse left for Glendale tomorrow, he had to have Jesse

out of the way for the rest of the night. After the near miss at the rock, David had decided he didn't want to kill Jesse. He'd miss his friend. He'd rather have the gold and quietly disappear in a few months. He could always come home again with a story of how he'd finally made it big. Jesse would never know the difference. David could finally show him that he was as good as Jesse White Feather. He wished Jesse would hurry up. The man was always punctual. David's fingers itched. He shifted in the bushes watching for headlights. He didn't want to be stuck in these bushes all night. He needed to get to the bar in time to save Cassidy from Hank, Leo, and Vince. This evening's conversation with the three of them had been a fine one. They didn't like Jesse or his high-handed ways. It irritated them that Jesse thought he was better than they were. David had started off with buying them a few beers, then led the conversation to Jesse and the white woman. By the time he'd left at nine-thirty, they were drunk and angry. They figured any woman who would be with an Apache would be fair game. They weren't the smartest of men and easily manipulated. David had let them know Cassidy would be at Pete's this evening without Jesse. They'd been ready to go and teach both the woman and the Indian a lesson. If Jesse didn't show up soon, David wouldn't make it to Pete's in time. He didn't want them to kill Cassidy. That would defeat his purpose. He shifted again. It would be nice if he could wait until Jesse turned the coins into spendable cash. Jesse had great contacts. However, Jesse would immediately put the money in a bank and David would never be able to gain access to it. Finally, headlights appeared up the road. David liked the fact Jesse was a man of routine. He always took the loneliest road. David notched the arrow in the bow. These damn arrows were almost more trouble than they were worth. He really wished he knew who had started this whole scenario. A pistol would have been so much easier. David sighted down the arrow and aimed below the headlights, trying for the tire. The night was dark and he had difficulty telling exactly where he wanted the arrow to go. He released the arrow and his breath. He heard a twang as the tip hit the bumper. “Damn,” he muttered under his breath. Grabbing another arrow, he aimed again. Jesse's truck slowed for a moment as though he'd heard the arrow hit. David didn't need him getting out of the truck. He aimed again as the truck came abreast of him, this time sinking the arrow into the tire. A pop echoed off the bushes and the truck careened toward the ditch on the side of the road. David crept out of the bushes and glanced both ways. He didn't see any other headlights. The truck had come to a stop, its nose down in a rut. David crept around to the back, then quietly came up the side. Jesse's body was slumped over the seat. David paused where the cab met the bed of the truck and listened. He didn't hear anything. Creeping back into the bushes, he hunkered down and watched the truck for several minutes. Jesse didn't move. He must have passed out when his head hit the inside of the truck. Hopefully, he was all right, but David didn't have the time or the inclination to check. He needed to get to Pete's and rescue Cassidy. Then maybe he'd have a chance to convince her to go away with him and take the gold. He'd even have a better shot when Jesse didn't show up to take her home. David could play him up as

not caring. By the time she found out the truth, it would be too late. David crept back to his truck and started the engine, leaving the lights off until he was well down the road. Then he sped up and headed for Pete's Bar and Grill. **** Cassidy stepped outside and let the evening breeze stroke her face. The bar had been hot and stuffy and the air felt nice. She couldn't understand why Charlene would rather be inside dancing and sweating than outside. Cassidy was starting to get an itch to move along. She missed sleeping under the stars. She missed her freedom to do what she pleased. She sighed. The only bad part about moving along would be leaving Jesse. She'd sorely miss him. He'd become an important part of her life in the last few weeks. She didn't want to give him up, but she figured she didn't have much of a choice. She wondered what California or Colorado would be like in this century. Could she still hunt and trap? Some niggling suspicion told her probably not. She'd find something to do. Jesse kept telling her she was a wealthy woman, so she guessed she didn't need to decide on how to earn a living yet. She looked into the parking lot, scanning for Jesse's truck. He'd said he'd be there at eleven. Already it was a quarter after. He was never late. She crossed her arms and wandered along the sidewalk. She forced the thought of him being hurt from her mind. Because some crazy person out there shot arrows at them didn't mean he'd gotten Jesse. He'd probably lost track of time and would arrive any minute. A truck pulled into the parking lot and Cassidy held her breath. She exhaled slowly. The truck wasn't Jesse's. She'd probably better go back inside the bar. She didn't want him thinking she waited and worried over him. Just because she was, she didn't need to let him know. Also, he wouldn't cotton much to her being outside by herself with that crazy loose. Then he'd be fretting and nagging her about being careful so nothing happened to her. She'd tried to tell him she could take care of herself, but he didn't want to believe it. Of course it was kind of nice to have a man care and fuss and fret over her. No man had ever done that, not even Jake. Most of them had better sense. They learned right off not to rile her. On the other hand, being held in Jesse's arms was an added advantage. She'd never get enough of being held and kissed. Probably that would be what she missed the most. The red truck screeched around the parking lot twice. A bunch of drunk cowboys. This century had exchanged trucks for the crazy horse riding and shooting of her time. One was as bad as the other. She shook her head. Men and their showing off. They really thought they impressed someone instead of realizing they were making jackasses out of themselves. She turned back toward the bar door. She'd best get inside before they really got out of hand. Jesse would skin her alive if she got mixed up with this bunch of yahoos. Suddenly, one of the men stood in front of her. “Hey, looky here, Hank. Ain't this the sheriff's woman?" “Yep, it is.” Hank's voice slurred as he staggered over from the truck. Cassidy looked at the two men and glared. She edged her way around the one. He made a grab for her and she ducked under his arm. “Hey, Vince, can't you grab one little bit of a woman?” yelled the driver of the truck. He jumped out of

the cab, leaving the vehicle in the middle of the driveway. Cassidy edged toward the wall of the building. The door was too far away to make a run for it. Besides, she didn't run. She moved slowly, her feet silent against the grass. “Now, boys, you look like you've had a mite too much to drink. Why don't you go home and sleep it off before you do something you'll regret?” She took another step backward and felt the rough stones of the wall behind her. “Oh, we ain't gonna regret nothing.” Hank staggered closer to her. “She is a beauty, ain't she, Leo? No wonder the sheriff keeps her locked away." “He ain't got no right keeping a white woman at his place,” said Leo. “No right at all." “It ain't proper.” Vince swung his arm in the air and nearly fell. “That dirty Injun should know his place." “I'm sure Sheriff White Feather knows his place.” Cassidy slid her right leg up the wall, bending her knee. “I'm sure he'll know your places too." “What do you mean by that?” Leo wiped the back of his green flannel shirt sleeve across his mouth. “A night in jail to sleep off your binge.” She let her right hand rest against the top of her boot. Hank staggered closer. His shoulders strained against his too-tight shirt. “I don't see him here to do anything." Leo moved to the left of Hank. “That's right. Your Injun ain't around, honey." “He won't be here before we've had what we want.” Vince moved to Hank's right, making a circle around Cassidy. Cassidy continued to look at them, breathing calmly. She couldn't count the number of drunken cowboys she'd faced down in her day. Not one of them had ever tried twice to put hands on her. Most didn't have the guts to try once no matter how drunk they were. She'd had a reputation in her time. Here, she had nothing. “He's due any second to pick me up." “That's fine with us.” Hank moved close enough Cassidy could smell the liquor on his breath. “Yeah. We'll be waiting for him,” said Leo. “Three against one. Those are pretty good odds,” said Vince. “Yeah. We can take him,” said Leo. Cassidy tried not to breathe in the stink of Hank's breath. She shook her head slowly, keeping watch on the men's positions. “On a good day, if you were all sober, you might have a chance against Jesse, but you're so drunk, all he'll have to do is stand and watch you fall over." “Bitch,” snarled Hank. “You ain't got no right to talk to us like that.” Vince glowered and took a wobbling step toward her. “You ain't nothing but the sheriff's whore,” snapped Leo. Cassidy poised herself. She looked up and down each of them. Hank was the largest and directly in front of her. The other two men were of slighter build and would be easier to contend with. What she couldn't figure was which one was the ringleader. That was the one on which she wanted to concentrate. “Okay,

boys, it's time to break this up.” She flashed them a smile. “Go on home and sleep it off and I won't mention any of this to the sheriff." Little did they know she didn't want Jesse knowing what happened here. He'd never let her out of the house alone again. Damn. Why did these yokels have to show up and complicate my life? All I wanted was a breath of fresh air. “We don't care who you tell,” bragged Hank. Leo slapped his arm. “We don't need trouble with the sheriff." “Then what're we doing here?” Hank flashed Leo a look. “Teaching the Apache a lesson,” said Vince. “That's right,” said Hank. “So if he don't know, what good does it do?" Leo blinked, then looked from Cassidy to the other two men. “Maybe she's right and we ought to go. That Apache will have our hides for this." “You leave if you want to.” Hank looked straight at Cassidy. “I came here to teach the Apache and the woman a lesson and I ain't leaving ‘til it's done." “That's right,” said Vince. “You can go if you ain't got the stomach for it." Leo took a step back, wavered and stepped forward again. “Hell, the sheriff ain't gonna know who did this when we get through with her anyways. You grab her, Hank, and we'll take her out on the Res. By the time they find her, it'll be too late." The liquor talked for them. Cassidy had heard this song before. She hadn't liked it then. She definitely didn't like it now. “Bad move, cowboys." Hank grabbed Cassidy's throat, choking off her air. CHAPTER 19 Jesse pulled himself up with the steering wheel and touched his forehead. He had a goose egg the size of a golf ball. He leaned his head back and tried to focus his eyes. The roof of the truck was a blur. He put his hand on his weapon and listened. He didn't hear anything outside the truck. Unfastening the seatbelt, he swung open the door. He'd blown a tire. He'd heard it pop. He also knew his tires were in good shape. He took care of his truck. He swung his feet out of the cab and slid to the ground, holding onto the door for support. Great. He was in a ditch. He leaned inside for his cell phone and the world spun around him. He laid his head on the seat and fumbled with the phone. He finally managed to dial the station. “Hi, Gary. I'm out on the old River Road. Send a tow truck." “You okay, boss?" “I don't know. Yeah. I'm fine. Send Bill out here to pick me up.” Jesse hugged the seat, his head pounding, but the world stilled. “Maybe I ought to send an ambulance. You're sounding slurred."

“I'm fine, Gary. Get me a tow truck and Bill. I've got to pick up Cassandra.” The prickling outweighed the pain in his head. The tire hadn't blown out by itself. With him out of the way, she could be in real danger. “Tell him to hurry. I'll leave the keys for the tow truck driver.” He clicked the phone closed. He crept backwards out of the truck and steadied himself against the side. He stumbled forward to look at the tire, tripping over a bush and sliding into the ravine and under the truck. “Damn.” He pulled himself out and crawled over to the front tire. An arrow. Of course an arrow was in his tire. What else would he expect? He reached over to pull it out, then let his hand fall. He'd get it later. If someone wanted him out of the way that badly, that someone had to be after Cassandra. Jesse had to get to her. He pulled himself up and staggered back to the cab. Sitting back down on the seat, he called the operator and had her connect him with Pete's Bar and Grill. He had to get a message to her. He had to make sure she was all right. Finally getting Charlene on the phone, he said, “Where's Cassandra and why can't she come to the phone?" “Snappy tonight, aren't we?” Charlene purred into his ear. “Knock it off, Charlene. Someone shot out my tire and ran me off the road. Whoever is behind this may try to get Cassandra next. Where is she?” He'd been stupid to let her out of his sight before tomorrow. A sharp pain stabbed through his heart. Nothing could happen to her. Not because of his stupidity. “She stepped outside to get some air. She got anxious waiting for you." “Go get her. Keep her inside until I arrive." “Are you okay?" “I'll live. Charlene, get Cassandra." “I'm going.” The phone went dead. He let out a sigh. Charlene would take care of Cassandra for him. She'd be safe in the bar. He stood up again and the world spun. He sat back down and tried to focus his eyes on his watch. It had been only fifteen minutes since the last time he'd looked, before the tire had been shot. Not much could happen in fifteen minutes. He closed his eyes and waited for Bill. Lights whirled around in his head and he slumped over on the seat, keeping his eyes shut. After they retrieved Cassandra from the bar, maybe he'd let Bill take him to the clinic. His head hurt. His eyes wouldn't focus and the damn prickling at the back of his neck wouldn't stop. **** David pulled into the parking lot of Pete's Bar and Grill and saw the three men around Cassidy. He pulled into a parking place near the back of the lot where he could see what happened. He didn't want to rush up there and stop anything before it started. Besides, it would be easier if the guys grabbed her and took her out of here. He slid down and watched while they narrowed the space between themselves and Cassidy. He smiled.

She'd see how it was. White women and Apache didn't mix. Not in this town. Of course he was part Apache himself, but only part. Lots of people had held that against him, but he was as good as they were. He couldn't help if his mother had been an Apache. These boys would make her see that being with Jesse wasn't the right thing. Then he'd step in and rescue her. She'd be so happy she'd gladly share her coins with him. He'd show her how a real man treated a woman. She'd find she preferred him to Jesse. Hank grabbed Cassidy by the throat. David sat up and reached for the door handle. He didn't want them to kill her. Only frighten her. **** Hank's fingers tightened around Cassidy's neck. Black spots formed before her eyes. She slid her knife from her boot, kicked her foot forward with as much power as she could and connected with Hank's knee. With her left hand, she grabbed one of his little fingers and pushed, bending the finger backward. She shoved her knife point into his throat. Hank released his grip and screamed, going down on one knee. Cassidy kept twisting on his finger and his hand bent back over his shoulder. She held the knife steady. “Now, cowboys, as I was saying, you'd best go sleep this one off. We'll just forget this ever happened." Vince took a step toward her. “Stay back,” yelled Hank. A trickle of blood ran down his throat. Leo took one look at Hank and bolted for the truck. “Come on. We gotta get out of here.” He started the engine. Vince hesitated, then moved away. Cassidy put her boot against Hank's chest and pushed. He toppled over on the ground and she moved toward the door, the knife still in her hand. She held it lightly in her right hand, poised to throw if he moved toward her. He looked at her. “You're crazy, bitch.” He stood, wobbled, then hopped toward the truck. “She broke my knee.” He flung himself into the truck and it sped away the door still open. Cassidy sighed and sank down on the wooden bench by the door. She rubbed her neck. He'd gotten a pretty damn good hold on her. If she hadn't been prepared with her hand on her knife handle, things might have turned out differently. He'd more than likely left bruises, which would be hard to explain to Jesse. Maybe now he'd see why she needed to carry her knife. He'd be angry about her having it, but without it, she'd have been at the mercy of those cowboys. She needed a drink, but she didn't want to go back inside the bar. Jesse should show up any minute. Then she'd ‘fess up to what had happened and let him deal with those critters. A nice hot bath would be better than a drink. Hot baths always did wonders after a confrontation. The best part was that at Jesse's she didn't have to drag out the tub, heat the water on the stove and have her legs hang over the end. She could stretch out, put some of those bath beads he'd bought her in the water

and soak as long as she wanted, refreshing the water whenever it got cold. Maybe this century did have some advantages. “Cassidy, are you okay?" Cassidy opened her eyes and saw David standing over her. “I'm fine." “I saw those guys harassing you. I got here as quick as I could, but..." “It's all right. Some drunk cowboys. They didn't mean any harm.” She smiled at David. “What are you doing here?" “Oh. Jesse's been in an accident. Bill's taking him to the clinic and called me to see if I'd pick you up and take you over there." Cassidy stood. She swallowed twice. “Is he okay?” She slid her knife back into her boot. “A bump on his head, but he's got a pretty hard head.” David took Cassidy's arm. “Do you need anything from inside?" “No. Let's go." Cassidy slid into David's truck. The seat had a rip in the upholstery. He had to turn the key twice to get the engine running. He shifted into gear and drove out of the parking lot. “Do you know what happened?” Thankfully, Jesse wasn't hurt badly. He'd be all right. She could take care of him for a few days. Pay him back for all he'd done for her. She'd feel better once she saw him for herself. “Guess he blew a tire and went into the ditch. Good thing he had his cell phone with him." His cell phone. She still didn't know how such a thing could possibly work, but at this moment, she was glad for this modern convenience. At least he hadn't been stranded until someone came along to rescue him. She knew what that was like. She'd been alone when she'd fallen from Storm that time and broken her leg. It had been thirty miles to the nearest doctor and she'd had to take care of herself and the horse. She'd made it, but it would have been a sight easier with help. She watched the buildings go by as David drove. “Where's the clinic?” They'd taken her to a hospital when she'd been injured. “In town. Not too far." “How come they didn't take me there when they found me?" “You were hurt in a way the clinic couldn't help. They needed to get you to the hospital so they had to medi-vac you." “Which means?” She looked over at David. David glanced at her. “By helicopter." “Oh.” She had no idea what a helicopter was. She'd wait and ask Jesse later. She didn't want David asking questions she couldn't and didn't want to answer. “Want a soda?” David held out a can of Pepsi.

She looked at it for a moment. She could use something to drink after everything that had happened. She took a long gulp from the can. The way the Pepsi fizzled in her nose was one of the best parts of drinking soda. Pepsi was still her favorite, though Grandfather had gotten her to try several other flavors. She took another sip. This can had a bitter taste. “There's something wrong with the Pepsi.” She handed the can back to David. He took a sip and handed it back to her. “Tastes fine to me." She waved her hand. “I've had enough.” Suddenly her eyelids grew heavy. All the excitement must have made her tired. She leaned her head back against the seat. She'd close her eyes for a minute. **** Jesse jumped out of the patrol car and raced into Pete's Bar and Grill. Forty-five minutes had passed since he'd first called Charlene. He wanted to see Cassandra. Hold her in his arms and know she was all right. The door slammed against the wall as he entered and everyone in the place turned to look at him. He grabbed off his hat and shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry. It slipped.” He put out his hand as the door swung back towards him. “Really, Sheriff White Feather, you don't need to be tearing the place up,” yelled the bartender. “I know. I know.” Jesse looked around for Charlene. She headed across the floor towards him. He searched for Cassandra. “Where is she?” he yelled. Charlene pushed two men out of her way and walked up to Jesse. “I don't know." “What do you mean you don't know?” Jesse looked around him. His heart lodged in his throat, racing at full speed. He couldn't get a breath. “You said she was here with you." “I went outside to get her and she was gone.” Charlene laid her hand on Jesse's shoulder. “I'm sure she just took a walk." Jesse stormed back outside the bar. He looked around the parking lot and saw nothing unusual. He yelled for his deputies. “Bill, get Stan over here. We're going to search for Cassandra.” His neck told him something was very wrong. “I'm going around the building. You start that way down the road with the car. Shine the light in the bushes. Get Stan to take the other way. She can't have gone far in less than an hour.” He put his arm out and steadied himself against the wall of the building. Charlene took his arm. “You need to get medical attention. That knot on your head is huge and you can hardly stand." Jesse blinked his eyes, trying to get Charlene in focus. Dealing with one of her was enough, he didn't need three. “I'm fine. I'm not going anywhere until I find Cassandra.” She couldn't disappear out of his life the way she'd come into it. He wouldn't even think about that. She'd come into his life and he liked it that way. The kook with the arrows wouldn't get her. He took a step forward and stumbled. Charlene took his arm and dragged him to the bench by the door. “Sit. I'll get the boys inside to help search. They liked her. They won't mind.” Charlene stuck her head inside and hollered.

The bar emptied and the men searched around the bar and down the streets. Jesse sat on the bench, watching. He wanted to help. His legs didn't want to hold him and his head pounded in tune to his heart. After an hour, the men straggled back into the bar. Jesse wobbled in and sat at a table. He stood them a round of drinks. Resting his head on the table, he tried to think where Cassandra might have gone. “Have you tried calling home?” asked Charlene. She set a glass of water in front of him. He called his place. The phone on the other end rang. He held his breath. The machine answered. “Cassandra! Cassandra,” he hollered into the phone. “If you're there, pick up." He shook his head, then regretted it. “I'll drive out and see. She isn't always sure how to ... She might be asleep and not hear the phone." “You're not driving anywhere.” Charlene picked up her keys and her bag. “Bill can take me." “And leave me here worrying. I think not, buster. Bill can keep looking.” She took his arm and pulled him up from the chair. David walked through the door. “Hey, what's going on?" Jesse stared at him. “What are you doing here?" “I stopped by for last call.” David looked from Jesse to Charlene and back to Jesse. “Where's Cassidy?" Charlene took David's arm. “She's missing and Jesse is scared half to death. I was about to drive him home and check to see if she's there. You can come along and we'll fill you in." “What happened to his head?" “He blew a tire on his truck and crashed.” She unlocked the doors and climbed into her car. David crawled into the back seat. “Shouldn't he go see a doctor?" “I thought so.” Charlene started the engine. “Stop talking about me like I'm not here,” snapped Jesse. He sank into the front seat. “Keep to the speed limit." “I always do.” She pulled onto the street. “Like hell." “About the doctor?” asked David. “Not until I find Cassandra.” Jesse leaned back against the head rest. “Got any aspirin, Charlene? My head's killing me." “Not ‘til you see a doctor." “Fine friend you are.” Cassandra had to be at home. She wouldn't have gone off with anyone. Hell, practically everyone she knew was in the car with him, and Grandfather wouldn't show up at this time of night on horseback, especially at a bar.

He tried to get his heart to slow. She'd be at home, curled up in bed, asleep. Yes, she would. How she got there, he couldn't fathom, but it didn't matter. She'd be there. Charlene screeched into his driveway. He bailed out and made it to the front of the car before the world tilted and he had to grab the fender. Straightening, he eased toward the front door. Using the handrail, he climbed the stairs. He stopped, a cold shiver running down his spine. Pinned to the front door was a piece of paper. In the middle was Cassandra's knife. Jesse staggered forward and yanked out the knife. With a scream that came from deep within him, he snatched the paper from the door, and read. Bring the gold coins to Mesa Rock by ten a.m. and directions to the woman will follow. Jesse crumpled to the ground. Charlene rushed up and sat down next to him. David stood on the porch steps. “What is it?” Charlene wrapped her arm around Jesse's shoulders. “He wants me to bring the coins, then he'll tell me where Cassandra is.” Jesse looked out across the yard. He had nine hours to find her. He had no idea where to look. “So take the coins up there.” David leaned against a porch post. Jesse stared at David for a long time. “You don't understand." “Surely she won't mind if you exchange the coins for her,” said David. “Once you get her back, you can find the kidnapper. I'm sure the guy in Glendale will be glad to wait a few days to get those coins. They're rare enough he'll be willing to wait." Jesse drew up his knees. He needed to think. If only his head would clear. He had to get his deputies looking. He had friends on the reservation who would help. Grandfather would be out looking at first light. He loved Cassandra. Where did they look? There was a lot of empty land spread out hereabouts where a person could easily be hidden. He didn't have a clue where to start to look. Cassandra had told him to rely on his gut. He'd have to, but at the moment his gut tumbled and turned and wasn't telling him anything. David took the paper from Jesse's hand. “You can't do anything until the morning. Let us take you to the clinic, then you can get the gold and deliver it." “No. We have to search for her now." “Where are you going to search?” asked Charlene. “Especially in the dark." “Give me a minute and I'll figure it out." “You aren't going to figure anything out in your condition,” said David. “What can the doctor do? I have a concussion. As long as I don't fall asleep, I shouldn't die, and I have no intention of falling asleep.” Jesse pushed himself upright. “You can't do anything until morning,” said David. “Deliver the gold and you'll get Cassidy back."

Jesse leaned against the post opposite of David. “There's never any guarantee a kidnap victim will be returned even if a ransom is paid. It's fifty-fifty either way. Pay, don't pay. The best thing to do is stall for time.” He had friends who owed him favors. How much good would they do him in this terrain? Apache arrows and open land weren't where his FBI buddies did their best work. Back alleys and city streets with phones to tap worked better. He'd put a call into them anyway and they'd be here before sunlight. He'd use every resource he had to get Cassandra back again. A pain knifed through his heart. He couldn't lose her. Not to some crazy. Not over some damn gold coins. “Jesse, listen to reason,” said David. “I'm sure the kidnapper will tell you where she is if you deliver the coins." “Not if she can identify him.” Jesse pulled out his cell phone and wandered toward Charlene's car. He didn't want to go inside knowing Cassandra wasn't there. The house would seem so lonely. “You might have to risk it,” said David. “Yes,” said Charlene. “It'd be better to pay than put her in more danger." Jesse turned to look at both of them. “I'd give them the damn coins in a heartbeat to get her back." “Then what's the problem?” asked Charlene. Jesse tightened his hands into fists. “The problem? The problem is I don't have the faintest idea where those damn coins are." CHAPTER 20 Jesse let Cesar have his head as he headed onto the reservation. The others followed him as he headed for Mesa Rock. David rode beside him. Grandfather followed close behind. His deputies had traded their uniforms for civvies and joined him, even though none of them had any authority on reservation land. He put his hand to his pounding head. He'd finally allowed them to take him to the clinic where he'd spent most of the night staring at the ceiling. Doc had wanted him to stay, but as soon as it was light, Jesse had dressed and left. He had to find Cassandra. “Are you sure it's a good idea to bring this many people up there?” asked David. “I don't intend to go all the way there with everyone, but I'm not going without back-up." David wound his way through the dry brush. “This kidnaper's going to be real mad, you not bringing the gold and all." “I don't have much choice.” He wished she'd trusted him enough to tell him where she'd hidden it. She'd told him it would keep him safe. What about her? He'd never felt so helpless in his entire life. Jesse urged Cesar ahead. Hopefully Cassandra would be somewhere near where he was supposed to deliver the gold. If they looked hard enough, they'd find her. After traveling several miles, he stopped. “Bill, Stan, go east. Look for anywhere you could hide a ... where she could be held. I remember some small rock formations that might provide shelter. He might be using them to watch us or hide Cassandra."

He turned to his grandfather as the two men rode off. “Grandfather, what am I going to do?" His grandfather laid his hand on Jesse's arm. “Believe." “Believe in what?” Jesse looked out at the gray-green brush, the granite rocks and the sand. “I've believed in facts for so long, I don't know what else to believe in." “Yourself. Believe in yourself. And the magic. She does.” His grandfather smiled. The wrinkled face sent him a ray of hope. “Is she all right?” Jesse held his breath. He didn't know why he even posed such a question to his grandfather. The old man wouldn't know. No one could know. The guy could have already killed her. Keeping a live hostage was a complication. Jesse knew that. He couldn't even count the number of kidnappings he'd handled. All too often the victim was murdered before the ransom demand was even made. He tried to push the pictures of the bodies he found from his mind. Cassandra couldn't be dead. He needed her. He loved her. Tall Trees took off his hat and rubbed the conch on the front. “She is alive, grandson. You must believe that. Search your heart and you'll know where to find her." “Grandfather, don't you know?” Jesse looked at the silver ornament with her initials on it. He touched it. “It's not my heart she reaches out to.” Tall Trees put his hat back on and lifted himself in the saddle. “I'll take Gary and we'll go west. I know a place or two where a man might hide.” He nudged his horse forward. “Remember the magic, grandson. Listen with your heart." Jesse watched his grandfather as he rode through a gully and up the other side. “Guess we'll stake out Mesa Rock.” He turned to David. “Lead on.” David gave him a smile. “I'll do whatever I can to help." “Thanks for being here.” Jesse wiped the sweat from his brow. “What will I do if I lose her?" “I'm sure she'll be returned as soon as the guy gets what he wants.” David let his horse fall in beside Jesse's. “If that were only possible.” Jesse reined his horse to the right to avoid a patch of rocks. “At least if we stake out Mesa Rock, maybe we can catch him when he comes to collect the gold." “Seems as good a plan as any. Are you sure those other guys won't come up there and mess things up?" “They have strict orders not to come within two miles of the place.” Jesse scouted the area, looking for any signs anyone had recently come this way. He saw nothing. About a half a mile from the rock, he stopped Cesar and dismounted. “We'll leave the horses here and hike in." David slid down and tied his horse to a bush. “Are you sure he won't see us coming?" “I don't think it much matters. He's expecting a delivery, so he'll be expecting me.” Jesse pulled a leather bag from his saddle. “I'm going to give him one.” He swung the bag over his shoulder.

After traveling through the brush for a few hundred yards, Jesse stopped. “You stay here. I don't want him to see you.” He pointed to a clump of bushes. “That'll hide you. I'll be back in a few minutes." Jesse checked his watch. Nine-thirty. He'd have time to get to the rock and back before the ten o'clock deadline. Then he'd sit and wait for the guy to pick up the drop. He'd done it before. He'd never thought he'd have to do it again. “Cassandra, please be safe.” He talked to the wind and the brush. His grandfather was beginning to rub off on him. He'd try anything to get her back safely. After depositing the bag, he rejoined David. “What do we do now?” David shifted on the hard ground. “Wait.” Jesse settled in as he had on dozens of other stake-outs. He crossed his legs and let his hands drop into his lap. He took a deep breath to settle his heart and his stomach. The prickling at the back of his neck he ignored. Something was wrong and he didn't need the reminder. A half-hour passed. David shifted again. “How do you do this? The ground is so hard my backside has gone to sleep." Jesse gave a soft, harsh laugh. “Practice.” He watched the rock. The sun crept across the sky. Ten o'clock came and went and Jesse watched, not moving. When the sun hit straight up, he stood. “Let's go." “The guy hasn't shown up.” David stretched out his legs. “He isn't going to.” Jesse walked toward where they'd left the horses. “He realizes something is wrong. I have to go back to the house and see if he left another message.” His stomach did flips and his head pounded. He didn't know how, but the guy had found out the gold wasn't going to be delivered. Not that many people were privy to the information. Where's the leak? Or had something happened to the man? If so, how would he find Cassandra? He drew in a ragged breath. Grandfather had said she was okay. This once, he'd believe in Grandfather instead of the facts. He had to hold onto that belief. **** Cassidy blinked and tried to stretch. She was bound. She drew in a breath and dirt went up her nose. She tried to cough, but something covered her mouth. On her side, she surveyed the area around her. She must be in a cave. Using her shoulder for leverage, she managed to push herself to a sitting position. Light filtered in from an opening about fifteen feet from her. She glanced around and nearly tipped herself over. No one else appeared to be in the cave with her. She was alone. She blinked again to clear her head. It hurt. She was thirsty and hungry. Her back hurt and she couldn't move her arms from behind her. She'd been tied. Looking at her legs, she saw silver tape wrapped around her legs above her boot tops. Damn. That son-of-a—David. He'd picked her up at Pete's to take her to Jesse. Something had been in

that Pepsi. Something pretty strong. She'd slept all night. From the angle of the sun coming in the front, it had to be nearly noon. Would he come back for her? She couldn't depend on that. She could turn him into the law and he'd be better off with her dead. He'd never get the gold, though. That thought brightened her heart. She might not make it out of here, but no one would find that gold for a very long time, and then only by accident. Served him right. He was supposed to be Jesse's friend. He'd betrayed them all. That thought ate at her. She refused to die here and not see that David got what he deserved. Right now she'd like to have her knife at his throat. Hell, right now she'd like to have her knife. She knew he'd taken it. She tried to move her shoulders to ease the cramping, but it didn't help. A sigh stuck in her throat, not able to get by the tape across her mouth. She ran her tongue across the back of her lips, but she couldn't feel the tape. She looked around for something to try and pry it, but saw nothing. Okay, she told herself. I've been in bad spots before. I've got to think on a plan. Sitting here is sure death. Jesse won't ever find me. I'm on my own. Had Jesse really been hurt, or was that a ploy David had used to get her away from the bar? She'd have to hope Jesse was okay. Surely, David wouldn't kill him. He'd tried once, but with her out of the way, David would have to hope Jesse knew where she'd hidden the coins. That should buy her a little time. She extended her feet in front of her and scooted toward the entrance of the cave. The land was fairly flat outside and a creek ran in front of it. If she could get to the stream, it would hide her tracks. If she followed it far enough, she'd have to find someone. She bumped on her bottom down to the creek. Using a small tree, she inched her way up to a standing position. No doubt in her mind, standing and negotiating water would be a feat, but hell, she'd ridden Storm three days with a broken leg. She could do this. Getting her balance, she hopped. Hopefully, the silver tape wouldn't like water and would come loose. She hopped several times. At this rate, she'd make a mile by nightfall. Already, her legs were complaining. She hopped again. One boot landed on a slippery rock and she went head first into the creek. She snorted water out of her nose and shook her head. Damn, that hurt. Her shoulders felt as though they had been ripped from their sockets. She'd have to be more careful. She sat and scooted forward a little ways. This wasn't any easier. She leaned her face against a rock and tried to pry the tape from her mouth. Moving her lips, the tape gave a little. She rubbed the edge against the rock again. The rock bit into her cheek. She bit back the pain. She had to get the tape from her mouth. It finally moved a little. The corner of her mouth became exposed. The warm trickle of blood dripped against her lips. Putting her mouth into the water, she let it wash away the blood. Then she sucked. The cool water filtered into her mouth. She sucked until she alleviated her thirst. Then she looked for something on which to push herself upright. Hopping was more dangerous than bumping along on her backside, but it was

faster. Finally gaining her feet again, she hopped through the water, watching for rocks that would send her spilling forward again. **** Jesse sat on his porch watching the sun travel across the sky. He'd been home for three hours and still no message from the kidnaper. Everyone but David had left. All their searching had produced nothing. Not a sign of Cassandra. Not a sign of the kidnaper. Nothing. Grandfather had gone to make prayers. His deputies had gone back to work. Jesse didn't know where else to search, so he didn't have anything for them to do. David sat next to him on the porch and stared down the road. “If we stare hard enough, do you suppose we can wish her to walk up?” Jesse stared toward the end of his road. “I wish,” said David. “Remember when we were little and we used to sit and wish the other boys would let us play baseball with them?" “Yeah.” David sighed. “No matter how hard we wished, they never did." “Not until Grandfather bought us new mitts, a new ball and a new bat. Then they wanted us to be their friends." “They only wanted to play with our new equipment. They never wanted to be friends." Jesse looked at David. “We let them play because we wished they'd be our friends, but they weren't." “Why are you remembering that now?" “Because wishing doesn't help.” Jesse pulled his knees up and rested his chin on them. His nerves were strung to the snapping point. Why didn't the phone ring? Or why hadn't there been a note on the door when they'd returned? “I can stare down the road and wish and wish, and she still won't be there. No matter what Grandfather says, there's no magic, just hard, cruel facts." David placed his hand on Jesse's shoulder. “He'll contact you. You'll get her back." “What if I don't?” Jesse voiced the one fact he didn't want to face. He remembered having to tell families they might not get their loved one back again. With kidnappings, no one could predict the outcome. They prayed for the best, but that didn't make it come true. “Don't think that way. She's fine.” David stood. “Maybe if you think about it long enough, you can figure out where she hid the coins. That might improve the situation." “I've thought and thought. Hell, the guy went through this place. There's no place left she could've hidden them. For all I know, she buried them in the desert somewhere. We'll never find them without her.” Jesse stood. He had to do something. He couldn't sit any longer. “I'm going to get something to drink. Want something?"

“No. I'm going to run home and take a shower and change if you don't mind.” David stepped off the porch. “I'll bring back something to eat." “Go ahead. No sense in both of us sitting here.” Jesse opened the door to the house. The emptiness hit him. A coldness permeated him clear to his soul. “I'm not that hungry though." “You need to eat. You have to keep going, for Cassidy's sake." Jesse looked at David. “Thanks for being here." “I'll be back as quick as I can." **** David turned off the road, parked his truck and ran the last quarter mile to the cave. He would never have believed Jesse didn't know where the coins were, but the haunted look in Jesse's eyes told David he wasn't lying. The damn woman. Leave it to her not to trust anyone and hide the coins where no one could find them. Jesse was probably right. She'd dug a hole in the desert and buried them. He needed her to tell him where they were. She would. He'd promise to tell Jesse where he held her as soon as he had the coins and had time to get away from here. Of course, he couldn't tell Jesse, but he'd make her believe. At least believe enough to take the chance. Maybe he'd even take the tape from her mouth. He'd brought her a Pepsi and a hamburger. She had to be hungry enough to tell him what he wanted to know. He stepped into the cave and let his eyes adjust to the dimness. Cassidy was gone. A growl grew inside him and burst forth. Where the hell could she have gone all trussed up like that? He threw the food in the dirt and stomped out of the cave. He looked around and didn't see her. Looking down, he saw where she'd dragged herself through the dirt toward the creek. He followed her mark to the water. He looked up and down the creek. Which way? Would she know the way to help? Hell, he didn't. Some houses were built out here somewhere, but he wasn't quite sure where. He had to find her before she found someone to help her. Maybe she wouldn't realize he'd kidnapped her. He could fool her and pretend someone had overpowered him and taken her. He could be her rescuer until he got the information he needed. He started downstream. He'd have to find her quickly or Jesse would start to realize something was wrong. “Cassidy,” he screamed. “Cassidy, where are you?” He splashed through the stream. **** Cassidy heard her name faintly on the wind. David. He'd come back for her. Oh, that didn't bode well. He must have discovered Jesse couldn't give him the coins. Maybe she'd outsmarted herself when she'd hidden them. She hadn't wanted Jesse in danger, but now he couldn't help her.

She had a pretty good idea it didn't much matter. David couldn't let her go. Jesse would be on him like a duck on a June bug. They both knew that. Her only chance at survival was to get herself out of here. She took in a deep breath and scanned the edge of the creek. She needed a place to hide. A thick clump of bushes grew a few feet ahead of her. She hopped forward, slipped and went down into the water. Coming up sputtering, she tried not to choke. She couldn't afford to make any noise. Shifting to a sitting position, she edged toward the brush. “Cassidy, I know you're out here. I only want to help you.” David's voice floated around her, louder and closer. She edged her way until she was across from the brush. Now, if she could conceal herself without leaving a trace. She shoved her head into the bush, ignoring the branches tearing at her. Finally she had herself wedged in and, she hoped, hidden. She forced herself to breathe as slowly as possible. “Cassidy.” David was much closer. He'd be abreast of her in no time. She couldn't believe how fast he traversed the same distance that had taken her hours. Of course, he could run. She heard him splash through the water beside her. She held her breath. Her heart pounded so loudly she was certain he could hear it. She didn't move. A few moments later, she heard him returning. “Cassidy, damn it. You'll die out here alone. Show yourself and I'll help you." Right. You'll help me right into my grave. Maybe my time is gone, but that doesn't mean I've lived all the life I want. He crawled up the side of the bank, rustling the brush where Cassidy hid. She stopped breathing all together. He stomped by, nearly stepping on her boot toe. “Damn woman. Die. See if I care. No one will care. Especially not Jesse. He's not even looking for you. He figures he's better off without you." You care. You can't find my coins. A woman got the best of you. That ought to stick in your craw until the day you die. His boot steps moved farther away from her. Cassidy let her body relax. She'd rest here until she was sure he was gone. Her body was too tired to move. When she figured it was safe, she'd start her journey again. She had a few more hours until dark. **** Jesse stood in front of Pete's Bar and Grill as the sun came over the horizon. The second day had come and, with it, his hope of finding Cassandra safe grew less. The longer it took, the less chance existed. David and Grandfather had spent the night with him. Their being there had been a help, but they couldn't do anything. No one knew where to look. When Jesse had gotten up this morning, another note had been pinned to his door with an arrow. He couldn't figure out how the man had managed to do that without getting caught, but everyone must have been so tired, they hadn't heard anything. The guy gave him one more chance to get the coins to him. He

had until noon today. Six hours. It wouldn't matter if he had six days. He had to find something. Something he'd overlooked. A clue had to exist. No crime was perfect. The criminal always left a clue somewhere. He walked along the sidewalk outside Pete's. He examined the ground and looked on the grass. Something wasn't right. For the first time, no arrow graced the crime scene to let him know the guy had been here. He hunkered down and studied the area. The sun glinted off metal. He dug the object from where it had wedged between the concrete and the grass. A bracelet. It didn't belong to Cassandra. She only owned a locket. He flipped it over and looked on the front. A black snake was etched into the silver. He'd seen it before, but where? Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew who owned the bracelet. He looked up at the sky and let his mind float. Hank. Hank Carter. He examined the bracelet again. It didn't look like it had been there long. As proud of the bracelet as Hank was, Jesse couldn't imagine he'd lost it long ago. Jesse slipped the bracelet into his pocket. It might be nothing, but it also might be the first lead he'd had. He strode to his truck and headed out of the parking lot. He'd have time to find Hank before he met Grandfather and David for breakfast. He stopped in front of Hank's house and jumped from his truck. He pounded on the front door. A sleepy voice hollered from inside. “Hang on.” Hank opened the door, rubbing his eyes. When he saw Jesse, he eyes grew large and he took a step back, pushing on the door to close it. Jesse hit the door with his shoulder and sent Hank staggering. “Where is she?" Hank held up his hands. “Where's who, Sheriff?" “Cassandra." “I don't know.” Hank backed toward the kitchen, limping. Jesse grabbed him by the shoulder. He held out Hank's bracelet. “I found this where she was last seen." Hank's face had gone white. “I must've dropped it the other night." “You didn't notice?" “I was pretty drunk." Jesse studied his face. Hank sweated. “She's been kidnapped and unless you want to be named an accessory, you'd better tell me what you know.” Jesse shoved Hank backwards onto the couch. “I didn't kidnap her. I tried to talk to her.” Hank's hand went to his throat. “The hellcat nearly killed me.

It's her you should be locking up. She shouldn't be allowed to carry that knife.” He held his chin up. “Look where she stabbed me with it." Jesse looked at the prick on Hank's neck. She really was a hellcat. “What'd you do to her?" “Nothing. Nothing at all.” Hank looked over Jesse's shoulder. “She damn near broke my knee too. She didn't have any cause." “I doubt that. She wouldn't attack you unless you provoked her.” In fact, he'd never seen Cassidy angry. She'd told him she could protect herself, and he guessed she could. He leaned over Hank, pinning him to the couch. “What did you do?" “We were just being friendly." “Who?" “Leo and Vince. It was Leo's idea. I'd never do anything to hurt your woman." “So how'd you get close enough for her to get her knife to your neck?” He should be angry with her for taking the knife with her, but for once he was glad she hadn't listened to him. Who knows what those three good-old-boys would have done to her? It wouldn't have been worse than what the kidnaper intended to do or had done already. A shiver went down his spine. Emptiness filtered into him. “I leaned in to talk to her. She tried to rip off my finger. That's probably when I lost the bracelet.” Hank tried to squirm away from Jesse. “Where'd she go after she nearly broke your knee?" “I don't know, Sheriff. Honest, I don't know. We got in the truck and got out of there before you showed up. We knew you'd be plenty angry with us. Honest, we didn't mean no real harm. We was drunk." Jesse stepped back. Another dead end. Like the arrows. He tossed the bracelet to Hank. “I ought to run the three of you in for assaulting a woman." “Hell, we didn't do any assaulting. I only touched her ... her arm.” Hank looked to the side and back. “She did all the assaulting. On me. I ought to sue her." “I wouldn't take that one to court. A big man like you and a little bit of a thing like Cassandra? You'll be the laughing stock of the county.” Hopefully some of that gumption Cassandra had was still with her. It might keep her alive long enough for him to find her. A tiny bit of hope pushed against the emptiness. “It's not my fault. It surely wasn't my idea.” Hank fastened his bracelet on his arm. “I'd never do anything to your woman, even if she is white. I don't want any trouble with you." “If it wasn't your idea, whose was it?” None of them had the brains or the sense to pull off any of the things that had happened. They got their bravery from a liquor bottle and were known for their foolhardy stunts. “David bought us some drinks and said you being with a white woman wasn't right, you being Apache and all. It seemed to make sense, ‘til I sobered up the next morning and remembered David's an Apache too.” Hank slid from the couch and edged toward the kitchen and the back door.

“It's all right. I'm not going to run you in. Not now.” Jesse turned toward the front door. He stopped and turned back. “Who did you say?" “David. David Graham." The world went white in front of Jesse. He grabbed for the door. David. Why? It couldn't be. It suddenly all made sense. David had access to everything. David was always around and knew everything. David could work around Jesse because Jesse told him everything. Why? That didn't make sense. His heart knew the truth. It was David. David would kill Cassandra if he didn't stop him. CHAPTER 21 Jesse walked down the front steps of Hank's house, his mind spinning. David had Cassidy. He couldn't confront him. He'd deny it. Then Cassidy would end up dead for sure. David would know Jesse watched him and wouldn't go near her. Where would David hide her? The drop point was on the reservation. He'd probably hide her there. He certainly wouldn't keep her in his trailer. Jesse might show up there. Jesse looked up at the sky. The sun had barely started to travel. He had to find her and soon. Listen to his heart. That was what Grandfather had said. Listen to his heart. He leaned against the truck and tried to shut out the prickles at the back of his neck. He concentrated on what his heart said. He needed her. He needed her so much. Where could she be? The cave. When he was little, he'd found a cave. He'd found it quite a ways into the reservation. He and David had camped there many times when they were younger. She had to be at the cave. For the first time since this whole situation started, something made sense. He'd saddle Cesar and get the gray. He'd find her there, before David could hurt her. If he hadn't already. He picked up his cell phone and called his grandfather. “Is David still there?" “No, grandson. He went to change clothes. He'll meet you at the cafe in about an hour and a half for breakfast." “Saddle my horse and the gray. I'll be there in ten minutes." “Do you want me to go with you?" “No.” He didn't want to have his grandfather get hurt. Finding Cassandra and rescuing her would be

enough. “How long ago did David leave?" “About fifteen minutes." Damn. He'd have nearly a half hour on him. He had to hurry. “You finally listened to your heart, didn't you, grandson?" “Yes, Grandfather." “You'll find her." He hoped Grandfather was correct. Without her, a big void would open up in his world. “Get the horses saddled. Please." **** Cassidy lay in the brush and watched the sun rise. Her stomach rumbled as she sat up. Her arms were numb, for which she gave thanks. Her back was on fire. It hurt worse now than it had when she'd had an arrow sticking in it. She heaved a big sigh and tried to shake her hair from her face. It had long ago escaped its braid and plagued her unbearably. She kicked her feet to get the feeling back into them. Hopping was difficult enough without legs that were asleep. Tingles rushed up them and she thought maybe having them numb hadn't been such a bad idea. Pain shot up them. Right now, all she wanted was a nice hot bath to soak out all the stiffness. A bath in Jesse's bathtub where the hot water ran right in from the faucet. She could stretch out and put in some of those bath balls he'd given her that smelled so nice and made her skin soft. She groaned. The thought of a bath was enough to put her over the edge. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Cassidy.” She wiggled out of the bush she'd used for cover while she slept. “Feeling sorry for yourself never got you a thing. You've been in worse places.” Surely she had. The day the Apache had killed her parents. The day Limping Hawk had shot her. She looked toward the sky. “It's all your fault, Limping Hawk. He wasn't your horse." She glanced down the creek and then at the creek bed. Would it be easier to hop on dry land? David was bound to come back and would see her tracks. Back to the water. Besides, she needed a drink. Maybe that would appease her stomach somewhat. She wished she could get the rest of the tape off her mouth. It flapped back and forth as she moved, tickling her lips and cheek. This wonder tape of her new century was the stickiest stuff she'd ever seen. By now the water should have loosened it. It hadn't budged. She slipped into the water and knelt to get a drink. Then she struggled to a standing position and hopped. After two jumps, her legs complained loudly. “Got to go farther. Ten steps, then I can rest.” She forced herself forward, ignoring the pains in her legs. At nine, she slipped and went forward into the water. Sputtering, she flipped to a sitting position. “Oh, hell, there has to be a better way." She bumped along on her backside, gritting her teeth as rocks bit into her flesh. “Damn Apaches. They've never been anything but trouble. This time, looks like they finally got me.” She let her chin rest against her chest. She blinked. “I won't cry. I won't.” She looked ahead. The creek took a turn and seemed to slant downward. It would be easier going.

“A little farther. Just a little farther and I'll find people. Jesse said people live all over out here. They're spread out.” She forced herself to continue. “Cassidy." David's voice chilled her to the bone. She scooted faster toward the bend in the creek. Hopefully a patch of bush large enough to hide in would be a bit father along. The water splashed up around her, soaking her hair and shirt. A small giggle started deep within her. She had lost touch with reality. Of course, the last few weeks hadn't seemed all that real. She tried to outrun an Apache while she was tied up. That had to be the silliest looking thing ever. She'd let down her guard. She knew to keep an eye on strange men. More than one had tried to take advantage of her. “Cassidy, I know you're out here. Let me help you.” David's voice swirled around her. “I brought some food." Cassidy's stomach growled. “Traitor.” She got herself up and hopped as fast as she could. Catching her left foot on a rock, she pitched to the side, landing on her shoulder. The wind rushed out of her and the pain swamped her like black water. She forced herself to sit up and shook her head to clear it. Only a little farther. She edged out of the water. She couldn't see any clump of bush large enough to hide her. Her luck had run out as she heard horse hooves behind her. Cassidy pushed herself backwards up the embankment and turned to face David. He pulled his horse up in front of her. She gauged how far away he was. If only she had her knife. Damn, she hated being helpless. In her own time, she'd never felt helpless. In this time, it seemed to happen all the time. If she could defend herself, she'd teach David a thing or two. Now she'd have to rely on her wits. “I'll give you the food if you tell me where the coins are hidden.” David smiled at her and held up a sack. Cassidy balanced herself and stared at him for a moment. “Don't rightly think I can do that." “Cassidy, this is not a time to be stubborn.” His smile turned to a glare. “You're going to tell me where those coins are." She shook her head slowly. “I think not." “Oh, you will.” David slid from the horse and drew a knife from his belt. “I'll make sure of that." She tried to put more distance between them. “If I tell you where the coins are, then you have no reason to keep me alive." David paused, then smiled again. “I don't want to hurt you. Tell me where the coins are and after I get them, I'll let Jesse know where you are." “That would be real stupid on my part." “I'm going to find those coins anyway. Not many places exist where you could've hidden them."

“You didn't find them before or you wouldn't be asking.” She slipped in the dirt and sat, hard. Struggling back to her feet, she tried to figure out if she could ram him hard enough to land him in the creek. What good would it do her? If she could run or had a weapon, then she'd have the advantage. This way, she'd probably only make him madder. He climbed up after her. As he reached out, she launched herself forward, knocking him backwards. Tangled in his arms and legs, she rolled into the water. She spit out water and pushed herself backwards. “Now why'd you have to do that?” David put his hand to his forehead where blood dripped. Cassidy smiled. At least he'd hit his head. Of course the pain in her shoulders resembled a fire, but his wound gave her some satisfaction. “I slipped.” She pushed herself toward the other side of the creek. Thank goodness it wasn't too deep. Otherwise, she'd have drowned by now. David made a grab for her and she narrowly escaped his hand. The next time she knew she wouldn't be so lucky. He grabbed her feet and dragged her closer. “Enough. You're going to tell me where you hid those coins. I've had enough of this." The look in his eyes made a chill run down her spine. It had been a short journey to another time. She wished she'd stayed with Jake. He'd be alive. She'd be alive. He'd get over being disappointed about getting that land and cattle in Mexico. “I'll be seeing you sooner than I thought, Jake." “Who are you talking to?" She looked at him. “No one." She knew she was going to die. **** Jesse urged his horse forward. The cave wasn't more than a few miles ahead. She had to be there, and he had to get there before David hurt her. He came around a bend and stopped. David had Cassidy by the feet. She lay in the water, her head held high. David brandished a knife toward her face. Jesse went cold all over and slid his rifle from its scabbard. He aimed and squeezed the trigger. The knife flew from David's hand. “What the hell?” David looked toward him, then scrambled for the knife. Cassandra remained sitting and pushed herself out of the water. David lunged toward her. Jesse shot again, raising the water in front of David. “Don't make me kill you.” Jesse's voice was so cold, he felt surprised. “I will if I have to." Jesse slid from his horse and splashed through the water to David. “You okay, Cassandra?" “I'm fine now." He pointed the rifle at David's head. “Get down and roll over.” He handcuffed David's hands behind his back and jerked him to his feet. David smiled at him. “Come on, Jesse. We're friends. Think about it. She doesn't need those coins. We could sell them and split the money. No one would know."

“I'd know.” Jesse pushed down the impulse to throw David face down in the water, put his boot on his head and drown him. “How could you do this to her?" “She's nothing. A tramp. A white woman ... and not a very smart one." “She outsmarted you.” Jesse jerked David toward his horse. He threw him over the saddle on his belly and tied his hands and feet together. “Hey, you can't leave me like this." “Watch me.” Jesse scooped up David's knife and went to Cassandra. Hunkering down in front of her, he slit the tape on her legs, then reached around and freed her arms. After pulling the duct tape from her mouth as gently as he could, he scooped her into his arms. “You're sure you're okay?" She smiled up at him. “Nothing a hot bath, clean clothes, food and one of those pains pills you're always pushing won't cure.” She snuggled against him. His heart started to beat regularly again. He thought he'd lost her. Now that he had her in his arms, he'd never let her go again. “I was so afraid he'd killed you." “He still didn't know where the coins were.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. Jesse kissed her. “I don't know what I'd have done if I'd lost you. I need you, Cassandra." She laid her head against his shoulder. **** Cassidy sat cross-legged in front of the campfire and poked at it with a stick. It had been three days since Jesse had rescued her from David. David was in jail. Jesse said she'd have to testify when the trial finally got started, unless David cut a deal. Jesse figured he probably would. Cassidy didn't understand all Jesse said. In her time, they'd have tried and hung him by now. That would have taken care of the matter, but justice seemed a bit slower in this century. Which seemed strange because everything else seemed so much faster. She looked into the fire. She had a lot of thinking to do. Her whole life stretched out in front of her and she didn't know what she wanted to do. Maybe go to Colorado. Or Montana. Tall Trees had said land still existed there where a body could live in peace without all this civilization pushing in on her. Jesse said she had enough money to do what she pleased. She didn't know what she pleased. She loved Jesse. She could see making a home with him and having a few children. Was she really the kind of woman with whom he'd want to spend his life? He knew so much and had so many things. She lived a simpler life and was happy with it. Besides, he didn't love her. He needed her. That was different. She didn't want him to just need her. She wanted him to love her. “What're you doing out here?" Cassidy looked into Jesse's eyes. “Thinking. Tall Trees told me it would be all right." “He told me where to find you. I have your ID so you can move the coins to the bank tomorrow.” Jesse

set his hat on a rock. “I'll feel a whole lot better when they're secured." “They're safe now." “Where are they hidden, Cassandra? Or don't you trust me?” Sadness touched his eyes. She smiled at him. “I always trusted you. I figured if you didn't know, you'd be safe." “Damn near cost you your life." She nodded. “I know.” Would it have been any different if he'd known? “I'm sorry about David." Hurt flowed across his face. “So am I.” He shrugged. “I don't know what happened. He was supposed to be my friend." “Greed." “You make it sound so simple.” He smiled at her. “Where are the coins?" “Under the floorboards of the gray's stall.” She flashed him a grin. “There aren't any floor boards in the stalls." “You dig down a little through the dirt and there are. The gray covered the digging with his walking." He crossed his legs and leaned against a rock. “Why there?" “Who'd have the guts to go in there and look? Everyone's terrified of that horse." Jesse laughed. “Ain't that the truth?” He sobered. “What were you thinking about?" “My life. What I'm going to do?" “I figured you'd stay right here." She stared into his eyes and saw wanting. Wanting wasn't enough. “I haven't decided." “I'll have some of the coins sold by the end of the week and you'll have your own money." She nodded. He'd explained to her about not selling all the coins at once because then she'd have to pay taxes on them and the government would take most of her money. She had allowed him to convince her to put them in a safety deposit box in the bank. That way no one could hold her hostage for their location. Of course, he had to get her identification first or she couldn't open a bank account. Things seemed so complicated here. In her time, she could have walked up to the teller and he'd have put her money in the safe and given her a receipt. He wouldn't have asked her for identification. Hell, he'd probably have known her by sight. “That will make things easier.” She poked at the fire again. No sense in hoping for what she couldn't have. He didn't love her. She had to accept that fact. “Cassandra, I don't want you to leave.” He moved around the fire and took her hand. “I haven't made up my mind.” She sighed. “I don't feel like I belong here. Everything is so complicated." “It has to be better than where you came from."

“I liked my life." “Living from hand to mouth? Never knowing where your next meal was coming from? Not having a roof over your head?" “I like being outside. I don't always want a roof over my head. As long as I had my rifle, I always ate.” She shrugged. “I did as I pleased and no one tried to hurt me—at least not constantly, and definitely not to rob me. They'd have wasted their time. I haven't been safe since I fell into your century." “David is locked up and he isn't going to get out for a very long time. You don't have to worry anymore." Cassidy squeezed his hand. “He wasn't the only one who tried to hurt me. Those three cowboys came after me. Who's to say who'll be next?" “David was behind what happened with those cowboys. Besides, with the gold coins out of the way, you won't be a target to anyone else." “You don't know that, Jesse." “Most people aren't threatened like you were. Then again, most people don't pop up with all those gold coins." “I don't like the feeling of being helpless." “Nobody does.” He ran his thumb across the palm of her hand. “I'll be around to protect you." Sparks ran up her arm and spiraled toward the center of her being. She wanted him to pull her into his arms. Once more. Just once more she wanted him to love her. “I don't want a protector. I gave up having a protector when I was twelve." “I know you've had a hard time. Lots of people have a hard time." Cassidy laughed a grim laugh. “I'm not complaining. I learned to take care of myself." “You don't need to any more. I'm around.” He continued to stroke her palm. She refused to let the sensations that bombarded her overwhelm her. “I need to feel safe. I need to feel I can protect myself." “We all want to feel that way." “I know.” She stared into the fire. “Why is it so important to take care of yourself? You can rely on others." She shook her head. “Others always leave you and you have only yourself to rely on." “Cassandra, that's not true." She looked into his eyes. “Yes, it is.” She touched the side of his face. “You wouldn't be happy relying on others to keep you safe." “I have my deputies. I always wait for back-up when I can. I don't put myself in danger if I can help it." “Look at David. He turned on you."

Jesse nodded. “That doesn't mean you stop trusting everyone because of what one person does." “It has to hurt to be betrayed by a friend." Jesse closed his eyes for a moment. “It does." Cassidy moved closer to Jesse, wanting to take away the hurt. “I grew up hating the Apache. They were my enemy. In the end, though, I guess it doesn't matter who you are. Jake was betrayed by a white man. You, an Apache, were betrayed by another Apache. I was shot by one Apache and rescued by another.” And fell in love with one. “People are people. I grew up with people hating me because I was Apache, but I have to live with it. I ignore those who dislike me. What else can I do?" “Hatred doesn't help." “No, it doesn't." “It exists in your world and mine.” Cassidy leaned against him. “The differences diminish with time.” He hugged her close. “You grew up in a world so different from mine. Others weren't always able to protect me. Others were seen as different." “That wasn't so different than what I grew up with." “Seems it should be.” She looked into the fire and remembered being little. “I was born in Georgia before the War of Northern Aggression. Papa went off to war. Mama said he looked so handsome in his uniform. They were going to beat those ‘Damn Yankees.’ I was only three. “We owned a big plantation and had lots of slaves. Most of them ran off during the beginning of the war, but Mama managed. We didn't see Papa for a long time, but the Yankee soldiers came. Mama always made me go to the closet at the back of the cellar. It looked like part of the wall. That way the soldiers couldn't find me or hurt me. Elysa held me in her lap so I wouldn't cry. I had to be so quiet. “Mama never hid. Jacob and Ezekiel always stayed with her. The Yankees stole our food and our pretty things, but we were lucky because they never hurt Mama.” Cassidy shifted and stretched out her legs. “I never realized you were born before the Civil War.” Jesse pulled her closer. “That seems so strange." “See. We've lived very different lives.” She snuggled her head against his shoulder, taking in his warmth. For some reason, a cold chill kept trying to descend upon her. “One day a Yankee officer and his men came and I had to hide by myself. I took my doll and held her. I was only five, but Elysa and Jacob had run off. Mama said I had to be very quiet. Ezekiel stayed with Mama, but he was so old he wasn't much protection. Mama was afraid they'd hurt us when they found that we didn't have anything left to steal. “Finally the war was over and Papa came home. His fine uniform was in tatters. Papa was tired and wanted to start over someplace else that didn't hold so many bad memories.” She drew up her legs and wrapped her arms around them. “In the middle of the night, Papa packed up a wagon with everything he could that was worth money. We left our home and headed north, then west. Ezekiel came with us. We joined a wagon train. Papa told us not to tell anyone we were from the South. They might not let us go with them.

“The only thing I took of mine was the doll I used to hold when I hid in the closet." “I remember leaving behind my horse when we moved to Mesa. Selling him nearly broke my heart.” Jesse stroked her hair. “No one wanted me there. I was all alone until I met..." She stroked his arm. “Then you understand. The trip to Arizona was hard. I don't know why Papa wanted to go to Arizona, but he did. We had to leave the wagon train and go by ourselves a long distance. Mama was frightened because of all the stories about the Apaches and other Indians. Ezekiel knew he would be scalped. Papa told him the Indians wouldn't want an old, gray, kinky scalp. That didn't make Ezekiel feel any better. He fussed and fretted the whole way to Arizona." She gave a small laugh. “I don't think I'd have survived the trip without him. All his whining kept the rest of us going." “What happened to him?” Jesse rubbed Cassidy's back. She leaned into him. “He was old. He died about three years after we settled. One night he went to sleep and didn't wake up. I missed him sorely." “I'm sorry." “That's the way of things. You grow old and die." “What did your father do when you got to Arizona?” He continued to rub her shoulders. “Papa started a horse ranch and he was doing fine. He had built us a fine house. He even had cowboys working for him. Everything was going fine, until...” A shiver ran through her as she remembered that day. “One day the Apache came riding down on us. The band consisted of about seven of them. Their screams made my hair stand on end.” Cassidy crossed her arms to keep from shaking. “We didn't have a closet in the basement for me to hide. We didn't have a basement. “They slaughtered the cowboys. Caught them unawares. Papa ran into the house and screamed for Mama and I to hide, but we didn't have time. The Apache seemed to come from everywhere. Mama screamed. They killed Papa right off. Then they grabbed Mama. She screamed for me to run. One of them tried to grab me, but I got away. He ripped my skirt, but he didn't seem in a hurry to come after me. As I ran to the back of the house, one of them had a knife to Mama's throat. “I crawled out the window at the back of the house. Not far away was a cave.” Cassidy spoke faster, trying to get through the story before she choked. “Actually, it was more of an animal den. I crawled into it and pulled the brush back over the entrance. It was barely big enough to hold me.” She let out a rush of air. “I stayed there for two days. I could see the sunlight through the brush that covered the entrance so I knew when it was day.” She leaned her head against Jesse's chest. “I finally crawled out. The Apache had gone. They'd burned the house. “I don't know how, but I managed to go back to the house. Mama and Papa lay in the yard. Mama had blood all over her dress. I took her locket with the pictures of her and Papa. The only other things I found were the family Bible and Papa's rifle. My doll had been destroyed in the fire.” She looked at him through a sheen of tears. “It took me three days, but I got Mama and Papa buried up by Ezekiel. I couldn't do anything about the cowboys. “None of the horses were left, so I started walking. I knew the direction to Glendale, so I headed there. I didn't know what I would do."

“How did you survive?" “I had no choice. I learned to hunt. I begged on the streets of Glendale for a while. My only other choice was to go to work in a saloon and I couldn't do that. Mama would never approve. One day I met Jake. By then, I'd become pretty good with a rifle and didn't trust anyone. We did become friends over time." Jesse pulled her into his lap. “I thought I'd had a hard time in life. Everywhere I went, people didn't want me because of my Apache background, but I never was alone. I never went hungry. I don't think I was ever afraid. Angry a lot, but not afraid—” He kissed the top of her head. “—except when I saw David holding that knife on you." “I knew I was about to die. The damn Apache had finally gotten me. They couldn't get me when they got my parents. Limping Hawk couldn't get me, but that damn half-breed was going to be my undoing." Jesse laughed. “No more Apaches are on the warpath. You should be safe now." She looked into his eyes. Her life might be safe, but not her heart. She'd spent half her life fearing and hating the Apache and here she'd gone and fallen in love with one. He was going to break her heart. She'd rather have Limping Hawk's arrow in her back than Jesse's in her heart. She kissed him. Tomorrow she'd leave him Tonight she'd imprint a memory of him on her heart to take with her. CHAPTER 22 Cassidy pulled at his shirt buttons until they came undone. She ran her fingers down his chest, listening to his intake of breath as her hands rubbed across his nipples. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him hard, her tongue doing a dance with his. He pulled back and looked into her eyes. “I want you, Cassandra." She nodded her head and kissed him again. His hands skimmed over her back and up her sides, cupping her breasts. She twisted in his lap so he could rub her nipples through the material of her shirt. A gasp escaped her. Jesse unbuttoned her shirt, kissing her ear and neck, pressing against the pulsing spot in her neck. She slid from his lap and pulled him down next to her on the grass. She drew designs on his chest, lightly running her fingers over him. He inhaled each time she touched him. She let her hand drift to the top of his jeans, unzipped them and ran her fingers over his length. He gasped and pulled her close. “You aren't playing fair,” he whispered in her ear. “Oh?” She nibbled at his neck, her fingers still exploring his hardness. He flipped her on her back and pulled off her jeans. “You amaze me.” He trailed light kisses down her soon-naked body. “You're the only woman I know who doesn't wear underwear." “It's too hot for long johns." Jesse laughed as he buried his face between her legs and kissed her. He peeked up at her.

Cassidy writhed beneath him. She tugged at his hair. “Come to me, Jesse." He pulled a condom from his pants and put it on. Then he lowered himself to her. She wrapped her legs around him to force him inside of her. She wanted him. “Slowly, baby. Slowly." “No.” She pushed with her heels against his hips. “No." He pushed himself into her and she gasped. He filled her and gave her feelings she didn't know were possible. She pushed her pelvis up to meet him. When he withdrew, she felt a loss and pushed with her heels again. He came back to her. Faster and faster he pounded into her. She held onto his shoulders as he stroked her insides. Trembles built within her and spread. “Oh, yes, Jesse. Faster.” The world shattered into a million pieces and she grasped his hair, tangling her fingers in it. “Oh, Lord, yes, Cassandra.” Jesse plunged into her one more time and held her close. “Yes, baby,” he breathed into her ear. She clung to him. The trembles subsided. She loved this man. She loved making love with this man. She wanted to spend the rest of her days with him. “I need you, Cassandra. I want you.” He nuzzled her ear. She felt his desire for her and she moved her hips slowly. A tear formed at the corner of her eye. He wanted her. He needed her. Three words, but not the right three words. He didn't love her. She needed him to love her. **** “Where has she gone, Grandfather?” Jesse paced across the living room. “Why do you ask me?” Tall Trees lit his cigar. Jesse scowled at him. He stopped in front of the chair and glared at his grandfather. “Because you seem to know everything about her." “She rode out a little while ago. On the gray.” Tall Trees took a long drag off his cigar. “If you'd been paying attention, you'd know where she was." “How could I? She's done nothing but avoid me since we came back last night.” Jesse waved a crumpled note at his grandfather. “She says she leaving. Going north. Where's she going, Grandfather?" “She didn't say." Jesse stomped to the door. “Of course she said. She wouldn't leave without saying good-bye to you." “She hasn't made up her mind where she's going.” Tall Trees stood and put on his hat. “Where are you going?" “Home. I can't watch the television with all your stomping and yelling, so I might as well go home.” Tall Trees moved toward the door.

“Grandfather, she can't leave. I need her.” Jesse put his hand on his grandfather's shoulder. “Then you'd better figure out what to do to make her stay. You haven't much time.” Tall Tree walked out and down the porch. “I don't know what she wants.” Jesse followed his grandfather. “She has more money than I do. I can't give her anything she can't give herself." Tall Trees looked at Jesse for a long moment. “You have something to give her that can only come from you.” He shook his head. “Young ones—so dense.” He turned away. “What, Grandfather? I need her in my life. Without her, everything is empty." “Did you tell her?” asked Tall Trees over his shoulder. “Yes." “Then I guess that wasn't it.” He mounted his horse and turned him up the road. “What then?" “Look into your heart.” Tall Trees rode away. Jesse threw Cassandra's note on the ground. She'd left him part of the gold in payment for the gray and for staying at his place. She'd taken part of it with her. Then she'd ridden away. Out of his life. As quickly as she'd fallen into it. Jesse stomped toward the stable. He wouldn't let her go. He needed her. Needed her in a way he never needed anyone. She'd stolen his heart. He wouldn't let her ride away with it. **** Cassidy rode out into the desert. She pulled the gray up near the spot where she'd been shot by Limping Hawk. Could she go home again? Did she want to? She wouldn't be able to save Jake even if she did. She'd have to leave Arizona for good. A price had been put on her head. She'd been branded a murderer. What reason did she have for staying in this century? Jesse needed her, but that wasn't enough. She wanted him to love her. Love her the way she loved him. If she were to settle down some place with a man and raise a family, she wanted love. She'd seen the way her parents had looked at each other. They'd loved each other more than anything else in the world. That was the kind of love she wanted. She slid off the horse and took her saddle bags and a canteen she'd filled with water. If she could find a way back, she'd need water to cross the desert. She'd have to head north, skirt around Jake's place and then she could go to Colorado. No one would find her. She had enough money to live a long time. She couldn't go home without the dust devil. That was the key to going home. She sat on the sand and watched the spot where she'd fallen with Limping Hawk's arrow in her back. After a long time, she sighed and rose. Maybe she'd ride north and see what happened. She didn't see what other options she had. She couldn't drive a car and riding the horse was the only transportation with which she was comfortable.

She walked back and started to mount the gray when she heard the wind. Turning, she watched as a dust devil formed. She stared at it. It grew bigger and bigger. If she walked into it, where would she find herself? Home? Or farther into the future? Where was home? Either way, it didn't matter. She could start over again. She couldn't be any more confused in another time than she was here. She wouldn't have to see Jesse and feel her heart break knowing he didn't love her. If only he loved her. She watched the dust devil grow. She stared into it and saw herself riding toward it. She could hear Limping Hawk. She watched, knowing Storm would ride into the dust devil at any moment. Could she wait until Limping Hawk had gone on his way and still get back to her own time? Would the dust devil remain that long? She surely didn't want to meet Limping Hawk face to face. Without a steed, she'd be at his mercy. Being at the mercy of one Apache a week was enough. She'd had two this week already. “Cassandra." Cassidy heard Jesse's voice, but didn't turn. “Cassandra, what are you doing?" “Trying to decide if I can go home." “Don't leave me, Cassandra. I need you. Without you, my world is empty." She turned and looked at him. Then she turned back toward the dust devil and took a step. Jesse pulled on her shoulder. “Don't go. My great-grandfather will kill you." “Maybe that would've been better in the first place.” She didn't know when she'd decided she wanted to settle down with a man who loved her, but it had happened somewhere along the line. She looked into Jesse's eyes. “It couldn't be better. Stay here with me." “Why? We're so different. You want things I don't care about and don't understand. I want things you can't give." “What things, Cassandra? I'll give you anything you want." Cassidy smiled. “I wish you could.” She lifted the gold coins from around her neck. “Here. I'm sure you'll find a use for these. They're too heavy to carry and try to outrun Limping Hawk." Jesse looked toward the dust devil. “I see him." “So do I.” She stepped closer to the dust devil. “Cassandra, don't leave me. I don't want the coins. I don't care about the money." “What do you care about?"

“You. I need you." “That isn't enough, Jesse. That isn't enough.” She shook her head and took another step. She had to plan. She didn't even know if she could travel back to the past. She was already there, an Apache arrow in her back. Could she switch places with herself? Maybe she'd catch Limping Hawk by surprise and she and Storm could get away. “Take care of the gray for me." Jesse grabbed her and turned her to face him. “I won't let you do this. It's suicide." “You don't know that for sure. I might get away from him." He shook his head. He pulled her to him and kissed her. She couldn't think when he did that. She tried to pull free. “Cassandra, stay here and marry me." She looked up at him, not answering. “Please, Cassandra. I'll be the best husband I know how." She leaned against his chest. “I'm sure you will." “You won't marry me?" She didn't answer him. “Cassandra, I need you in my life." “I know." “Then marry me." She sighed. “I love you, Cassandra. Please, marry me." She looked into his eyes. “Do you really?" “Do I really what?" “Love me?” Her heart started to beat faster. “Oh, God, yes. More than life itself. When I thought I'd lost you, my heart splintered into a million pieces." Cassidy put her arms around his neck. “I love you, Jesse. Yes, I'll be your wife." Jesse picked her up and swung her around. A war whoop swept around them. “She's mine, Limping Hawk. Thank you for sending her to me." She looked back at the dust devil. The wind died. She'd found home. “Thank you, you old horse thief.” She turned back to Jesse. “Your great-grandfather did me a favor after all ... though I could've done without the arrow." Jesse laughed. “I love you, Cassandra Howard. I'll make up for what my great-grandfather did if it takes

me the rest of my life." “I'll let you.” Cassidy wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “It could take a lifetime." He kissed her back. “I've got a lifetime to give it." Janet Quinn Janet Quinn has always been a story teller. She has put her love of stories into her writing. While honing her craft, she earned a B.A. and an M.A. in journalism. Then she took up teaching high school English and writing. She has also taught novel writing classes at the Learning Tree University in California. Her first novel, Yesteryear's Love, was published by Berkley/Jove under their Time Passages imprint. It placed in the finals of the Romance Writers of America/Orange County Chapter's Orange Award Contest for published writers for best historical. Wild Honey, published in June 2004 by Awe-Struck E-books, placed in the finals of the Romance Writers of America/Orange County Chapter Orange Rose Contest for unpublished authors. A Moment In Time, published in November 2004, is her second time travel and takes the reader back to 1692 and a pirate boat. Coming next year from is The Lucky Lady, a western with a gambler and a seamstress with a secret. Also, her manuscript, The River's Treasure, placed in the finals for best historical in the PASIC Book of Your Heart Contest. She has contracted with Amber Quill Press for this book. When she isn't writing historical or time travel novels, Janet works as the Director of Education for a California Sylvan where she helps to teach the next generation to read. She lives in Southern California with two of her three sons, who encourage her writing, and her three cats. **** Don't miss The River's Treasure, by Janet Quinn, available now from Amber Quill Press, LLC Genevieve Rawlings awakens on the banks of the Mississippi River, cold, half drowned and with no recollection of how she came to be there. Cooper Monroe rescues her, and Genevieve finds love and happiness with his family, something she doesn't believe she's ever had. Then someone tries to steal her diamond and ruby necklace—and her life. As Cooper protects Genevieve, he finds he is falling in love with her. He lost his first wife to a fever and has vowed to never again love a woman, but no matter how hard he tries, he cannot stop himself from loving her. Cooper insists, however, Genevieve return to her father in New Orleans where she will be safe and live properly. She wants nothing more than to remain with Cooper. Can she convince him that she'll be happy as a farm wife instead of a socialite? AMBER QUILL PRESS, LLC Quality Books, Print And Electronic Horror

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