a handsome black dress with gray pearl buttons on the sleeves and at the
throat. Dust to dust, earth to earth, ashes to ashes. The reverend
called on God to claim His own, to show mercy upon their souls, to give
solace to those who remained behind.
Tess stepped forward to drop a single flower on her cle's grave. She was
still silent, and not a tear marred the perfect and tragic beauty of her
face.
Then she swung around and headed for her wagon. Jamie didn't mean to
follow her, he just discovered that he was doing so. She sensed him just
before she reached the wagon and swung around.
'Yes, Captain?'
'Lieutenant, miss. Lieutenant Slater.' 'Whatever,' she said coolly.
'What do you want?'
Hostile! he thought. More hostile than any full tribe of Indians he had
come across. She made him itch to set a hard hand against her behind,
but she had experienced great pain today. He was a fool to have followed
her.
He should let her be. He didn't want her as a burden, and she didn't
want him as her protector. If she needed a protector. 'Miss. Stuart, I
just came by to offer my condolences. To see if you were all right, if
you might need anything for the night.'
'I'm just fine, Lieutenant.' She hesitated.
'Thank you.' She whirled around in her black skirt, then crawled into
the wagon. Jamie clenched his hands tight at his sides and returned to
the group. The funeral was just about over. Jon and Monahen and a few of
the others were stamping down the last of the dirt and erecting wooden
crosses over the graves.
The crosses wouldn't stay long. The wind would take them, the dust would
wear them away, and in time animals then men would tramp upon them. The
West was like that. A man lived and died, and little but bones could be
left behind.
Bones and dreams.
'I ordered the men to set up camp, Lieutenant, just like you said,'
Monahan told him.
'Thank you, Sergeant.'
'Is that all, Lieutenant?'
'No. Split them even, Monahan. Half can sleep while the second half stay
on guard. Just in cas~.'
'In case the Injuns come back,' Monahah said. 'In case of anything.
This is the cavalry, Sergeant!'
'Yes, sir!'
Monahan saluted sharply. He shouted orders, his voice loud in the night.
The men at the graves hurried after Monahan as he started toward the
fires where the others were already setting up camp. As Jamie watched,
he saw his men melt into the rocks and crevices around them. They were a
crack troop.
They had campaigned through the most rugged Indian territory in the West
and they had all learned 27 their lessons well. They could walk as
silently as any brave, shoot with the same deadly accuracy and engage in
