Bella Diana

Forty Seven

2007-09-14T23:37:00.002-06:00

Diana saddled her horse in the pre-dawn darkness. She strapped on her rucksack, canteens, food, tarp and blankets. She checked that everything was properly balanced and tied on tight. When she picked up the bridle and went to slip the bit into Flecha’s mouth, the horse shook her head.

“You know what this is about, don’t you?” Diana rubbed Flecha’s nose and tried again. This time the mare took the bit.

She led her into the yard, looking around as if someone might come after her and ask her to reconsider. It was still too early. This close to Christmas, Amalia probably thought she had changed her mind. It would be a cold journey, but there wasn’t much snow. The drought was good for something, at least.

Diana headed north on a little-used trail through the woods. This path would take her away from the better-maintained trails on the south side of the mountain. It wasn’t likely anyone would follow, since the school had no one with both the ability and the inclination to track her.

The trail wound up through the trees, and with only her flashlight to pick out the hazards, it was slow going until the sun came up and the morning light filtered through the bare branches of the aspens. Mid-morning found her near the peak, a fork in the road before her and the empty northern valley spread out below. Diana reined in and nibbled a few piñones from a pouch at her waist.

She had lied to Amalia. She had no plan. Or rather, she had several, and all of them frightened her. Whatever road she chose, whether back to the school, south to Cobre, west to Castaño, or north to nowhere, the things she would give up would be tremendous. As soon as she urged Flecha forward, no matter what her direction or intent, the decision would be made, perhaps irrevocably.

She considered the matter so long that she grew stiff and cold. Finally she shook herself. She couldn’t sit here forever at the summit. She had to choose, and was there really any such thing as forever? As long as she remained alive, she could remake her life over and over, until she got it right. If you couldn’t re-create your existence, what was the point in carrying on? Life would just be one great tunnel to nowhere, and surely it wasn’t that.

Diana jerked on the reins. “Come on, Flecha. It’s a big world.”

END

Want more? Diana's travels, which are the sequel to this story, are available online and in print! Additional information about the print version here.

Forty Six

2007-09-13T23:31:00.003-06:00

Will left a few days later to join his unit in a valley near the southern town of Cobre. Miguel sent word of his departure via radio and Harley promised to send Coyote and Dell to meet him halfway. Diana put on a brave front, but when Will’s horse disappeared around a bend in the mountain trail, Amalia thought she detected a note of panic in her eyes. Before she could approach her with questions or reassurances, Diana offered to make Kitta a special breakfast and led her into the house as if nothing had happened.

Over the next few days Amalia tried to get Diana alone, to no avail. She kept herself busy with Kitta, household chores, and practicing her marksmanship. It didn’t help that Amalia’s own work never seemed to allow her much time. Finally one day she caught a break in her busy schedule and tracked Diana to an empty field where she was working on her archery. Amalia paused to watch, remembering Diana’s former skill and comparing it to now. “You’re doing better than I realized,” she said, after Diana managed a tricky shot into a crosswind. “Will gave me the impression you couldn’t hit a barn door from three feet away.”

“That wasn’t too far from the truth the first couple times I came out here. I’m getting my strength back, though.” She strung another arrow, took aim and hit the center ring. She was nocking another when she paused and lowered her bow. “What brings you out here? This can’t be interesting.”

“I was just curious. . .” Amalia began, wondering why she felt like a nosy old biddy. She looked into Diana’s clear, serious eyes and realized with a shock that this was no longer the little girl she had raised. “I’m sorry. I’ve got no business prying.”

“No, you don’t.” Diana strung the arrow again, drew back hard and let it fly, paying no attention to where it landed. “But you do have a right to wonder. And yes, I’m still leaving.”

“Why? Don’t tell me you don’t feel anything for Will.”

Diana toyed with the string of her bow, running a finger back and forth along it.

“He only wants to show how much he cares. You’ve both had hard lives and he wants to make things easy for you.”

“But I don’t want to live someone else’s idea of a good life.”

“Then what do you want? Would you like to stay here? You can, you know.”

Diana jerked her head in exasperation, slung her bow and quiver over her shoulder and walked toward the target, looking for her arrows.

Amalia tagged after her. “What’s wrong with here?”

“Nothing.” She picked up an arrow and examined it before dropping it in the quiver. “Except that this is your dream, not mine. Maybe someday this will be the right place for me. Or a town house with Will, or a band of mercenaries in the mountains, or. . . who knows? But I’m getting awfully damn tired of all of you trying to decide my life for me.” She picked up another arrow. “It’s about time I started living like a grownup, don’t you think?”

“Nothing would please me more,” Amalia said. “So tell me what you think is so grown up about running away?”

“I’m not running away, I’m seeking my own way in the world, and it was you who once told me I should.”

“I’ve said a lot of stupid things in my life. That doesn't mean you should listen.”

With a faint smile, Diana began walking toward the barn. “I’m sorry you think I’m making a mistake, but love and family aren’t always enough. Don’t you agree?”

Amalia had never seen Diana like this and it confused her. “I have no idea.”

“Sure you do. You left Harley to come here.”

“This was a known entity. I didn’t just go traipsing off to. . .” She looked at her sharply. “You’re not still thinking of running away with Robert, are you?”

“It’s crossed my mind. He’s smart, he has connections, and I don’t think he would try to turn me into a hothouse flower. But I haven’t decided anything yet. I might get halfway down the mountain and come back. I might decide to try again with Will. Or maybe I’ll ride off into the desert, never to be seen or heard from again.” At the look of concern on Amalia’s face, she paused. “Or I might not go anywhere at all. I don’t know yet. It’s a big decision, and I intend to think it through and be prepared this time.”

“You thinking things over would be an improvement over your usual method.”

“Yeah. I thought you’d be happy.”

“Happy? Just because I’m glad you’re thinking doesn’t mean. . .” She shook her head, held open the door to the barn, and followed Diana inside. She watched her hang her bow and put her quiver away. “What am I supposed to do if you leave?”

“What do you mean?” Diana looked at her in confusion. “You’ll enjoy your new man, play with Kitta, teach your students. . .”

“And what do I tell my son?”

Diana pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. “I don’t know. Is it really my problem? And do I have to know now?”

Forty Five

2007-09-12T23:29:00.003-06:00

Will couldn’t stay much longer. Harley had already sent two messages. Things weren’t going well in the south, and being short his best marksman was putting a strain on operations.

It was Miguel who finally brought matters to a head, looking across the dinner table one evening and asking Will point blank when he intended to return to his unit.

Will ducked his head. “Soon.”

“How soon? Before or after one of your friends gets killed?”

“It’s not my fault they don’t have enough marksmen.”

“But it is your fault they’re expecting you back. If you hadn’t told them you were returning in September, they would’ve planned accordingly. And now here it is nearly October—”

“My wife needs me, and she comes first. Besides, September’s not over yet.”

Diana pushed the food around her plate. “You don’t need to stay here on my account.”

Will set down his fork and looked at her in exasperation. “You’re not even riding your horse yet. You’ve got no range with your arrows, and—”

“I’m doing great with my rifle and I’ll keep practicing while you’re gone. It’s not like I need any of those skills here, anyway. I can keep training on my own.”

“You said you wanted your own command,” Miguel reminded him. “A commander doesn’t let inappropriate sentiment keep him from his duties. If Diana were ill or her life in danger, no one would question your decision, but you can’t keep stringing them along. Go back and fulfill your commitment, or let me radio a message that you’ve gone soft and are quitting.”

“I’ve not gone soft.” Will pushed back his plate and stalked out of the room, leaving Miguel, Amalia, and Diana staring at each other.

Diana got up.

“Stay and finish your dinner,” Amalia said. “Let him think things over in peace.”

“I know what I’m doing. I was through eating, anyway.”

Half an hour later, Amalia and Miguel wandered toward the living room and paused in the doorway at the sound of Diana’s voice. She was saying something they couldn’t quite make out about horses, goats and corn yields.

“Don’t be silly,” Will said. “I need to go back. You and I have to put in our time and win this war so we can get good jobs afterward.”

“But don’t you think. . .”

“You don’t have to be a farmer ever again. I’m going to set you up with a house in town, so you can have nice things from the train and our kids can go to school and not have to work so hard, like we have.”

“Bridget said I might have trouble having kids.”

“We’ll adopt some."

“I think I’d rather be out on the land.”

“You’re a crazy girl, you know that?"

Amalia and Miguel waited until the conversation turned to less serious murmurings about weather and other mundane matters. When they went into the room, Diana was sitting on a cushion in front of the fire, Will lying beside her with his head in her lap. She was toying with his hair, saying something about aspen leaves. At the sound of footsteps, they both looked up. Will didn’t change position, but closed his eyes and said, “I’ll leave on Sunday.”

Forty Four

2007-09-11T23:29:00.003-06:00

Will and Diana walked toward the house. When they came near the garden, Diana stopped. "Do you mind if. . .?"

“Of course not.”

The grave lay under the branches of a sapling, ringed by a neat border of stones. Diana had been coming here each day, but hadn’t shared what was on her mind. Today she leaned into Will, as much for shelter from the wind as for the comfort of his body. “I did wrong, didn’t I?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know. I didn’t take care of myself. I didn’t tell anyone in time that maybe they could’ve saved her.” She frowned. “I had been so sure it would be a boy, and that made it easy to be hateful, but. . . I don’t know. It’s hard to be a girl. I feel sorry for her, like I betrayed her.”

“No point worrying about it now. It would’ve probably turned out the same, anyway. Mother seems to think so.”

Diana considered. “She went straight to Heaven, right?”

“She didn’t do anything wrong, so I don’t see why not. I wouldn’t trust a God who would punish a little kid. Maybe she was kind of lucky, in a way. She never had a chance to screw things up and go to Hell."

“Yeah. Like me. I suppose that’s where I’ll end up."

“I hope so.” When Diana gave him a quizzical look, he added, “I know that’s where I’m going, and it won’t be any good without you there.”

Diana smiled. "It’s not supposed to be good. That’s the whole point."

"Then I guess you’ll go to Heaven and I’ll go to Hell and spend eternity missing you."

She turned back to the grave, serious again. “No. I’m definitely going to Hell.”

Forty Three

2007-09-10T23:00:00.003-06:00

It was a slow convalescence, but an indulged one, and Diana accepted everyone’s attention with unusual good grace. The times she had been wounded in battle or in training hadn’t prepared her for the bone-wrenching pain of childbirth. She had been so confident, so sure she could withstand anything. Now she understood that there really was no end to the suffering a human could be asked to endure. She realized too, that she could die, not just from enemies in battle or raiders in the woods, but from the betrayals of her own body. Having come so close to death, life was now infinitely precious, and she was grateful for help, having finally come up against a battle she couldn’t fight alone.

The midwife stayed on for a few days, monitoring Diana’s bleeding and plying her with antibiotics and herbal teas. Amalia prepared Diana’s favorite meals, and Miguel’s staff provided every little whim Diana needed, and a lot she didn’t. Kitta appointed herself nurse with a confused notion that this involved reading to her several times a day, so Diana found herself subjected to The Cat in the Hat in the morning and Goodnight, Moon each night.

Will could hardly bear to leave Diana’s side, unless it was to get her another cup of soup or an egg, or whatever else he decided was the perfect food to make her strong again. He ignored her protests that she was drowning in all the chicken broth he gave her, and he rearranged her pillows and blankets on a bizarre schedule of his own devising. He was so solicitous that Bridget had to finally put her foot down. “Let her walk,” she said, catching Will carrying her to the outhouse. “You don’t want her getting blood clots, do you? She needs to move around.”

“But she—”

“It’s okay.” Diana motioned for him to set her on her feet. “How about you let me lean on you? Wouldn’t that be best? Give me your arm.”

At night she lay pressed against him while he repeated the stories they had heard around the campfire when they lived on the reservation. Sometimes he told other stories, ones she had never heard before, about his life on the streets before he came to Amalia’s farm in Valle Redondo so many years ago. And late at night he touched and kissed her with a love and absence of need that moved her to tears.

Diana was ashamed of her body, appalled that it hadn’t immediately reverted to how it had been before. Will didn’t seem to notice the bloat, pleating and stretch marks, and his fingers caressed her skin with a reverence that both puzzled and gratified her. But after a few weeks, even he admitted to some concern. “I can’t go back to Harley until I know you can take care of yourself,” he told her one night as she rested in his arms in front of the fire.

“It’s safe here," she said.

“That’s not the point. I won’t have you dependent on others.”

The next morning, Diana struggled into her riding pants and followed Will to an empty paddock, where he set up some targets. He handed over her bow and quiver. “Let’s see what you can do.”

“Probably not much. I haven’t trained since July.” She fit an arrow to the bowstring and took aim, disgusted at how hard the draw felt. She loosed the arrow and it fell limply in the grass, several feet short.

“Try again.”

She did, and again failed to reach the target. “It’s not fair. How come women lose their strength so much faster than men?”

“It’ll come back. Move a little closer and work on your aim.”

Diana practiced for half an hour, growing increasingly frustrated, even though her aim and range improved as she became familiar with her weapons again. Finally she handed Will her equipment, rubbing her shaking arms and flexing her stiff fingers while he put everything away. “I can’t believe how much ground I’ve lost. It’s embarrassing.”

“It’ll come back faster than you think. You’ve got talent, remember?”

“I wish it was in something else. Death isn’t a good thing to be talented at.”

Will studied her. “You’re going to be here all this fall. Why don’t you go to school?”

“Me? In a classroom with all those little kids?”

“Why not? Who cares what children think?”

“I’m not smart."

“Sure you are. You’re smarter than me. You can read and write. I bet you’d be a real good student.”

Forty Two

2007-09-09T23:00:00.003-06:00

Half an hour later, Bridget let Will into the room. The stench nearly brought him to his knees. It was more than just the smell of blood, but of feces, vomit, and something he couldn’t place but hoped never to smell again. In the darkened room, the basin covered with a bloody towel, and the rolled-up sheet oozing into a basket suggested things Will didn’t want to know.

Bridget draped a cloth over a bowl of metal instruments soaking in murky water, and went to open a window. “It’s never a pretty business,” she said, shrugging out of her bloody smock. “Even when it goes well.”

Will forced himself to look at the still figure on the bed. When Diana had fallen silent and the women’s voices had risen in increasing alarm, he had been certain she was dead. From the way Amalia was sitting by the bed, bent over Diana’s limp hand, he had every reason to believe his suspicions were correct. His first instinct was to turn around, get on his horse and ride into enemy camps where he could slaughter people at random until he cooled his rage or until someone with good aim took him out of this hell.

Amalia looked up and motioned to him. “It’s okay. She’s sleeping.”

Relief washed over him. He stretched out on the bed and pulled Diana into his arms where she lay limp, like a doll. When he kissed her, he could feel the faint warmth of her breath and was reassured. He closed his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. After awhile, he felt Amalia’s eyes upon him and looked up. “She’s going to be okay, isn’t she?”

“She’s young and strong. With proper care, yes, she’ll be all right.”

“But there were some. . . difficulties,” Bridget said. “She may have trouble having children after this.”

Will shifted and pulled Diana closer. “I don’t care about kids. I only want her.”

Amalia began helping Bridget with the suspicious-looking bundles and bowls on the floor. Will tried to ignore them as they whispered to each other, but he raised his head when Amalia said, “That’s too far. How about garden, where the ground is soft?”

“Is the baby dead?” Will asked.

“Yes,” Amalia said, darting a glance at Bridget. “There was nothing that could be done.”

Will could tell by the way the women looked at each other there was a lot they weren’t saying, and he was glad they didn’t offer details. He smoothed Diana’s damp hair and waited for Bridget and Amalia to leave. It seemed like hours before the women went away bearing their bloody burdens and leaving Will and Diana alone.

The wind outside picked up and a sweet-smelling breeze filtered into the room. Will got up to put an extra quilt on the bed, then got under the covers and pressed his body against hers, seized with a notion that he must keep her warm at all costs. If he could only hold her tight enough, maybe some of his strength would pass through to her and things would be like before. She stirred and tried to speak. Will silenced her. “You’re safe, and it’s going to be all right.”

Diana nodded and closed her eyes. Will kept his arms tight around her until her deep, regular breathing told him she had gone back to sleep. By now the night air had filled the room with the clean scent of pine, and moonlight was streaming in the window. Will closed his eyes, expecting to fall asleep, too, but oddly, he could not. For once, just having her near wasn’t enough.

Forty One

2007-09-08T23:15:00.002-06:00

It took until nearly dawn for Will to guide the midwife up the narrow path in the darkness and by then Diana had long since given up being brave. Her screams echoed through the rooms. With scarcely a glance at Miguel, who was trying to keep a worried Kitta distracted in the living room, Will and the midwife hurried down the hall.

Amalia's relief at Bridget's arrival was almost tangible. In a shaking voice, she rattled off the time between contractions and number of hours Diana had been in labor.

"You're kidding me, right?" Bridget opened her bag and began taking out instruments. Suddenly she turned around. "Will, it's better that you wait outside. This isn't the sort of thing a man needs to see."

"But she's my wife and—"

"And you'll wait on the other side of that door."

"Do as she says," Amalia said, pushing him into the hallway. "This will all be over soon." She closed the door and went to take Diana's hand. But when Diana squeezed so hard it seemed her bones would break, she gave her the tail of her shirt to hold, instead.

Bridget washed her hands, arranged Diana's hips under a sheet and examined her, murmuring in soothing tones. She frowned.

"What is it?" Amalia asked in alarm.

The midwife sat back. "You needed me much earlier," she said. "This baby is stuck."

***

Bridget tried everything she knew. With the baby positioned wrong and wedged against the pubic bone, the forceps were no use, so she tried to reach inside and turn the baby. Diana screamed and fought her until they tied her to the bed posts.

They tried to give her some laudanum in the hope that they could ease the contractions long enough to move the baby into the correct position. But Diana threw up the laudanum, and the midwife had no other drugs.

"She's been without food since yesterday," Amalia observed at one point. "Shouldn't she eat? She needs her strength."

"I doubt she'll keep anything down, but we could try a little water or juice."

Amalia went to the door, where she found Will pacing.

"Is it over?"

"No. Get her a glass of water and some apple juice."

A few minutes later, Will tapped on the door. He tried to peek past her as Amalia took the tray from his hands. "I brought some honey, too. Sometimes that goes down better than juice."

Diana threw up the juice and wouldn’t touch the water.

"We've got to do something," Amalia said, trying to keep panic from creeping into her voice.

"There's only one thing left we can do," Bridget said, digging in her bag and taking out a cruel-looking instrument. "I’m sorry, but we can only save one of them."

Forty

2007-09-07T23:12:00.002-06:00

At lunchtime Diana made a brief appearance at the kitchen table, complaining of her aching back and swearing she wasn't hungry because she had eaten her breakfast so late. Since the plate Amalia retrieved from the bedroom was empty, she was reassured. She rubbed some liniment into Diana's back and went to the school.

She returned home as the sun was going down, her mind full of lesson plans and worries over books, supplies, and dormitory assignments. She met Will and Miguel coming up the path from the barn. "You're only just now getting back?"

"We could ask the same of you."

"At least we had the excuse of being farther away," Will said. "We cleared the trail almost to the halfway cairn."

"We'll put the sign up tomorrow. They should have no trouble getting here." At Amalia's nervous smile, Miguel added, "Are you excited?"

"Scared to death is more like it." They entered the kitchen and Amalia paused and looked around. No lamps had been lit, no fires built against the cool evening air. "Don't tell me Diana spent all day in her bedroom."

"It's not like her," Will said. He went to their room and flung open the door. Diana was leaning against a chair, breathing in deep, ragged gasps. Her hair was plastered with sweat and the hem of her shift was wet for reasons Will couldn't immediately grasp. Kitta was sitting on the bed reading aloud, and she set down her book with a look of relief in her eyes.

"Keep reading, Kitta," Diana gasped.

Will realized she hadn't noticed him. "Diana?"

She turned around. "Don't tell! Please don't tell!"

"Don't be stupid. You need the midwife."

"No!" When Will looked at her in confusion, she added, "It's better this way. No one wants it. This way I can suffocate it before it even breathes. That's not the same as killing it, is it?"

He stared at her for a long moment, then shouted down the hall. "Mother!" When he heard Amalia’s footsteps, he grabbed Diana by the arm and tried to lead her to bed.

Amalia needed only an instant to understand. She picked up Kitta and ran with her to the kitchen, where she dumped the child at Miguel's feet. "Radio the midwife. Tell her to come now. Diana's been in labor since at least earlier today, maybe even last night."

Miguel picked Kitta up and soothed her. "Why didn't she tell us?"

"God alone knows what goes through that girl's mind." A sudden thought occurred to her. "Can Bridget get here in the dark? Should I send Will to lead her up?"

"I'll go after I get the message to my operator in Estrella. Let Will help Diana."

"No, he should go. He can't bear to see her in pain, and I don't want them feeding off each others’ fears. This is going to be hard enough for her without that."

Thirty Nine

2007-09-06T23:09:00.001-06:00

The languid pace of summer picked up. The first of the fall students would be arriving soon and Diana had never seen so much scrubbing, repairing and bed-making. Unable to help with preparations, she did her best to keep Kitta out of everyone's way, but even that tired her. One night she was so exhausted she could scarcely eat. The smell of food repulsed her and after picking at some beans and a bit of cornbread, she begged everyone's pardon and excused herself.

"Are you okay?" Will asked.

She looked at her swollen belly. "I think there's just no more room in there for food. I'm going to lie down and read until I'm sleepy."

When Will entered their room a little later, he found her pacing the floor. "I thought you were going to rest."

"I am. It's just I can't get comfortable any more, no matter what I do. My insides feel all squished and twisted around."

"It can't be long now."

"It'll be nice to have my body back."

"I agree."

"Will, I—"

"You know, I've been thinking. I don't want you having any more babies until the wars are over. It's too hard on you. We should wait until there's peace and I can provide for you and a child properly."

"But—"

"I'm going to talk to Macy when I get back to camp. She must've picked up some tricks when she worked at the brothel. And maybe you can find something useful in Mother's books." He drew her into his arms. "I love you and I won't let you go through this again until we're completely ready and it's what we want, okay?"

Diana fidgeted a little and nodded.

"You thought I hadn't been paying attention, didn't you?" When she only shrugged in reply, he rubbed her cheek in concern. "What's the matter? You look pale."

"I think I ate something earlier that didn't agree with me."

Will turned back the covers and helped her into bed. "Lay down and rest. Would you like a glass of water? Maybe with some ginger to settle your stomach?"

"No, I'm fine. Really. I'd just like to get some sleep."

But she didn't sleep. She fidgeted, rearranging pillows and blankets endlessly. When Will put a hand on her hip and asked what he could do to help, she shrugged him off. "I'm sorry to keep you awake. Maybe you should sleep in one of the other rooms."

"That wouldn't do any good. You know I can't sleep when we're apart."

By morning they were both red-eyed and exhausted. Will sat up and ran his fingers through his hair. "Let's see what Mother is cooking for breakfast. I know I'll be glad to have some coffee."

"You go." When Will looked at her sharply, she added, "I'm feeling a little more comfortable. I'm going to try and sleep a little."

An hour later, Amalia came into the room and found Diana picking at the comforter. "Is it time to get the midwife?"

"Of course not. It's still another two weeks, remember?"

"Sometimes babies come early. I'll have Miguel radio to town."

"It's not time. Really."

Amalia's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "I've got too much work today to babysit you. If you're having contractions, we'll get the midwife. If you're not, I need you to watch Kitta."

"I can watch her." Diana sat up. "I'm just tired. I couldn't get comfortable last night and I'm having indigestion. Bring Kitta in here with her books and I can nap while she reads."

"Okay. I'll bring you some breakfast, too. But you'll send Kitta to the schoolhouse to get me if you think the baby is coming, all right?"

Thirty Eight

2007-09-05T23:07:00.001-06:00

Diana sat on the floor fumbling through the contents of her bag. She knew she must look ridiculous, but the floor was more comfortable than any chair today. She frowned in annoyance as she tried to work around her belly. "Don't you know you're not wanted?" she muttered, and got a hard kick in the gut for answer.

The canvas bag didn't contain much these days. Amalia had cleaned her riding clothes and hung them in the closet after drying them in the summer sun until they smelled like the wind. Diana looked forward to wearing them again. In the meantime, her bag contained only odds and ends— her canteen, the book of poetry she had received in Adelaide, some yucca twine, scissors, a work knife, a spoon, an old hat, and a pair of socks she had deliberately kept out of the laundry. Diana squeezed them, reassured that the two gold pieces Robert had given her were still there. She had other money—a few silver coins and some old federal dollars that were still useful in the larger towns. If she wanted to, she could also claim half the silver she and Will had received at their wedding.

But the gold was different. If she didn't hire a guard as Robert had instructed, those two coins could get her pretty far. She looked at the map he had given her. Castaño appeared to be only a few days' ride away, but that didn't take terrain into account. Some of those mountain passes were tricky. It could take as much a week to get there, depending on road and weather conditions.

Diana closed her eyes, seeing the entire region in her mind. A week of riding in any other direction would put her where, exactly? She searched the map of her memory and was pleasantly surprised at the answer. She was a good hunter and forager, so she wouldn't need to buy much. The gold would go a long way. A lot farther than Castaño.

A sound at the door startled her, but it was only Kitta, large-eyed and serious. "Can you come read with me?"

"I guess so." Diana began putting things back in the bag.

The girl came over to watch. "What's that book?"

"This?" She pulled out the book of poetry. "You can have it if you like. It's a little advanced for you, but you learn so fast, you'll be able to read it soon enough."

"Thank you." Kitta took the slim leather-bound volume as if it were riches. "What's that?" She pointed to the map.

"Just a drawing." Diana folded it and tucked it away.

"It has words on it."

"Yes. Sometimes drawings also have words."

"What was it a picture of?"

Diana looked at her in exasperation. "You sure ask a lot of questions." Seeing that Kitta wouldn't be deterred, she said, "It's a picture of a place, and how to get there. It's called a map, and it's how people find their way around. They look at maps."

"Me and James had no map. He put me on his horse and then we were here."

"No map at all?"

Kitta shook her head.

"I guess riding off and seeing where you end up can work out pretty good, can't it?"

Thirty Seven

2007-09-04T23:03:00.001-06:00

Days passed and if anything, Will and Diana seemed closer than they had ever been. She rested her head against his shoulder at breakfast, watched after him when he went into the fields, and made her way across the meadow to take him cool drinks on warm afternoons. In the evenings they played with Kitta, looking so much like any ordinary young family that it broke Amalia's heart. Sometimes Diana lay in his arms on the patio at night, counting the stars and whispering to him.

Finally Amalia could stand it no longer and cornered her in the garden. "For someone who doesn't love her husband—"

Diana laid down her knitting. "I never said I didn't love him."

"If you're still thinking of leaving him, I'm going to have to insist you tell him. Either that or I will. I love you, Diana, but I won't let you deceive my son this way."

"How do you know I haven't changed my mind?"

Amalia withdrew a piece of paper from her pocket.

Diana stared. With a swiftness that seemed impossible in light of her girth, she snatched it from her hand. "How dare you go snooping through my things? I'm not a child! You had no right!"

Amalia offered no apology. "You're lucky he didn't find it."

"Will would never—"

"Don't bet on it. I've been involved with men since before you were born, and the one thing you can count on is that sooner or later, every one of them will do something you don't expect him to do."

With an injured air, Diana folded the map to Castaño and wedged it in a pocket. "It was still wrong of you."

"Oh, for Christ's sake, I didn't do it on purpose. You left your bag open and I dropped something in it by accident when I was in there dusting." Noting the look on her face, she added, "I don't care whether you believe me or not." When Diana made no answer, she went on. "So is this your plan? To run from one man to another?"

"I love Robert."

"Love him or lust after him? He doesn't deserve to be used as your ticket out of an uncomfortable situation."

"I'm not using him. He's smart, he's different, and I like him."

"Have you ever thought about heading out on your own for awhile?"

"You mean just me? Alone?"

"Yes." Amalia sat down, looking suddenly old and tired. "I've had lots of time to think since I came here, and I wonder if it might not be the best thing. You've gotten yourself so mixed up, I don't know if you have any idea what you really want. Some time away from all of us at a job in town, perhaps, might help you sort things through."

"But if I leave, who will protect me?"

"Protect you? I’ve seen what you can do with a horse and a gun. You can protect yourself."

"No, I can't!" She gestured toward her belly. "This is what happens when a girl tries to do things without help."

"Don't be ridiculous. All on your own, they would've never caught a talented horsewoman like you. It was your friends who couldn't do for themselves, never you."

"Are you saying I did wrong by going back? I'd do it again."

"Of course you would. You're generous and loyal. The world needs more people like you."

Diana's voice rose, confused and angry. "If those are such wonderful qualities, why am I being punished?"

Amalia face softened. "You're not being punished. I know it must feel that way, but God and the universe have their own reasons for things, and we're no more capable of understanding than a horse can fly." She smoothed Diana’s hair. "We have to trust that it will all work out, and that somewhere it fits together in some wonderful way, like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle."

"Are you saying things happen for reasons I'm not supposed to understand?" Diana looked up, her eyes dark with frustration. "Why should I make any decisions at all, if anything I do can be trumped by a distant God who doesn't want me to figure it out?"

"You'll do what we all do. You'll fumble around, trying to do the right thing as you understand it."

Diana shook her head. "No, Auntie. That can't be the right way. Not for me."

Thirty Six

2007-09-03T22:59:00.001-06:00

July turned to August and the nights grew cooler, the days more golden, brightened by the blazing colors of the aspens. While Will helped Miguel on the grounds, Diana tried to make herself useful in the kitchen or in preparing the classrooms and dormitories for the school semester. Even though the midwife had pronounced her fit to do whatever work she felt capable of, getting around was becoming such a frustrating effort that more and more she preferred to sit on the patio or in Amalia's herb garden, reading a book or knitting. Sometimes Kitta would join her, bringing her books and a slate to practice her writing. Although Diana had little patience for children, she found serious, word-loving Kitta an acceptable companion and would stop what she was working on to help with a big word or to discuss the larger meaning of the Sneeches.

One afternoon Diana came into the garden to find Kitta already there, books abandoned, splashing in the low tank that irrigated the plants. Her dress was soaked, her dark hair plastered to her skull. Diana looked at her in dismay. "What on earth are you doing?"

"It's just water," Kitta said, holding out her arms. "I'm not dirty."

"That's not the point. Water isn't something you waste. There are people and animals in the valleys who are dying because they have no water. Do you understand?" Taking Kitta's wide-eyed stare for an answer, she added. "Water is life. Now let's find you some dry clothes."

If Amalia had any thoughts on the way Diana had taken to Kitta, she kept them to herself, but the midwife was less reticent on the subject of children. "I haven't had any luck finding someone in town who wants a baby," Bridget said as she prodded Diana's belly. "There's already plenty of orphans to go around."

"Well, someone's going to have to take it, because I'm not raising it."

"I understand why you feel the way you do, but you might be surprised. A lot of women don’t think they're interested until they hear their baby cry. That changes everything."

"Hearing a kid scream would make me even more likely to get rid of it," Diana said. "Ouch. What are you doing?"

Bridget frowned in concern. "Just checking how the baby is positioned. It seems a little off."

"It'll turn itself, though," Amalia said from her chair by the window. "Right?"

"It should." She tried to palpitate it with her hands, but Diana squirmed. "Does it move around a lot?"

"Kicks all the time."

"It’s probably just an active one, then." She turned to Amalia. "I'm thinking she's got another three weeks, give or take a few days. Unless she starts having unusual symptoms, you don't need to contact me again until she goes into labor."

"Will that give you enough time? It's a slow trip up the mountain. We'd be happy to put you up when we get near her due date."

"First babies always take awhile. As long as you get word to me promptly via the radio, there'll be plenty of time."

After the midwife left, Diana and Amalia sat staring at each other. "Quit looking at me," Diana finally said. "This is humiliating enough without that."

"I was just thinking," she said. "If you're worried you might have regrets, I could raise your baby here."

Diana shook her head. "You don't like children much more than I do."

"No, at least not until they're walking and talking. But there are plenty of people here who could help."

"Thank you, Auntie, but it would be best to give it away or let it die at birth. It wouldn’t be fair to make you raise a child I didn't want."

Amalia went to the window and gazed out at the summer gardens. "I just wanted you to know that I would do that for you."

"Why?"

"Because I love you. When you raise a child, you'll understand."

"Maybe I won't."

Amalia turned around. "Won't what?"

"Raise a child."

"I don't know how you think you'll avoid it. Will won't let—"

"I won't be having Will's babies."

"What makes you say that?"

Diana hesitated before answering. "I'm leaving. Things aren't working out."

Amalia stared. "But he loves you so much."

"Being his wife feels wrong. No matter how hard I try, I can't. . ."

"It's like being married to your brother," Amalia sighed. "I should've never raised you two like siblings."

"It's too late now, and what difference would it have made?"

"My sister used to think you were destined for each other."

"Destiny?" Diana scoffed. "There's no such thing. There's only what we ourselves do."

"You may be right about that," Amalia said. "So when are you going to tell him?"

"I'm not sure yet."

"The longer you wait, the worse it will be."

"I know. But I need him right now. He’s still my best friend and I don't want to argue with him. I'll tell him when I'm ready, okay?"

Thirty Five

2007-09-02T22:57:00.001-06:00

Amalia, Diana and Macy took lunch to the men and they enjoyed a picnic in the cool of an aspen grove. Coyote ate impatiently, returning his gaze again and again to the irrigation system. It consisted of a series of hollowed-out logs cradled on tripods, sloping from a stream to a holding tank, from which the water could be released into the garden and animal troughs.

"It's an obvious concept," he said. "The only hard part is making the joints tight enough that we don't lose any water. These drip. Not much, but I know we can make it better."

"You'll think of a way," Will said.

"I like the way you redesigned the support over the soft ground near the water source," Miguel added. "You learned a lot from your bridge-building adventure."

"That was fun." His eyes lit up. "Do you need any bridges around here? Macy and I could probably stay a little longer if. . ."

"No, we're okay on bridges," Miguel assured him.

"Build him one, anyway," Macy said. "I don't mind staying longer. I like it here."

But Coyote and Macy had promised Harley they would be back in two weeks, and if they didn't leave soon there would be no time to stop along the way and inquire about railway jobs. Early the next morning Coyote saddled their horses and Will helped him pack Macy's books and the bags of food Amalia had prepared for their journey.

"It shouldn't be hard to get a message to me up here if you move base camp before mid-September," Will reminded him. "If you can get a rider to either Cobre or Jonasville. . ."

"Yeah, I know. The radio operators will take it from there. But don’t worry. You'll have no trouble finding us. We'll be busy this fall."

"Good. It'll make the time until Christmas go by faster."

"Yes, you'll miss her," Coyote said, suddenly walking away. "I'll be back in a minute. Forgot something."

When they were ready to leave, Macy threw her arms around Diana and Amalia by turns, sniffling.

"It's okay," Amalia reassured her. "You can come back any time."

"And you can come with me to get Diana in December if you want," Will offered.

Macy nodded. "I'd like that. Then I can return these books in person."

Coyote remained silent throughout this exchange, but finally he approached Diana to shake her hand. He flinched at her touch, but then smiled in a sad sort of way and hugged her as tightly as he dared. "Thanks for being such a good friend to me and my girl," he whispered. "I'll never forget you."

Diana felt a current of shock run through her. He knew she wasn’t going back. What else did he know? "Please don't tell," she whispered. "I'll come and see you if I can."

Coyote drew back slightly. "That would be weird." He said the words aloud, without thinking. When the others looked at him curiously, he shrugged as if to ask what did they expect, since they all knew he was crazy. He met Diana's eyes briefly, then turned away. "Good-bye, Diana."

After they had ridden down the hill and were lost to sight among the trees, Will turned to her. "What was all that between you and Coyote?"

"Oh, just him being Coyote."

"He's a strange one," Amalia agreed.

Thirty Four

2007-09-01T22:46:00.002-06:00

Diana slept late, comfortable for the first time in weeks in a complex wadding of quilts. She opened her eyes on a room full of sunshine and for a moment was reminded of the sunny bedroom of her childhood. Rested and peaceful, she felt like a girl again until a sharp kick in her belly brought her back to the present.

She had already sensed she was alone, so she wasn't surprised to find Will gone. She put on the robe and slippers Amalia had left for her and padded into the kitchen where she found Amalia sitting at the kitchen table helping a small black-haired girl to read. "Good morning," Diana said.

"More like noon," Amalia said. "I can fix you some breakfast, or you can wait until lunch, if you prefer."

"Maybe just some coffee for now." Her gaze fell on the girl. "Who's this? An early student?"

"This is Kitta." Amalia turned to the girl. "Kitta, this is your Aunt Diana."

Kitta looked at Diana with serious gray eyes. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too." Diana looked at Amalia curiously. "She's got good manners. Who is she, and when did I become her aunt?"

Amalia began preparing a pot of coffee. "A couple months ago, a stranger showed up. He said this girl was an orphan and he'd heard about our school. We explained we don't take them so young. She says she’s four. But James said the child wasn't his and he didn't know what else to do with her. We let them stay the night, and in the morning he was gone." She made a helpless gesture. "We couldn't just toss her off the mountain."

Kitta looked up as if startled at such a notion.

"So she's yours now."

"It would seem."

"How does this make me her aunt? I mean, if I call you my aunt, and you’re her mother. . ."

“Actually, I’ve asked her to call me Grandma.”

“Well, I surely can’t be her aunt, if that’s the case.”

"But it sounds good, don't you think?"

"I guess it’s no more weird than the rest of our family relationships, but what kind of name is Kitta?"

"We thought at first she was trying to say her name was Catherine or Katie, but she's pretty emphatic that it's Kitta."

Diana eased herself into a chair. "What is that you're working on, Kitta?" The girl pushed a book toward her. "Curious George? That’s a great book. Do you like it?"

Kitta nodded. "We don't have monkeys here."

"No, I wouldn't think so." She accepted a cup of coffee from Amalia and looked around. "Where is everyone?"

"Will and Coyote went with Miguel to look at an irrigation line. Macy is in the library. You created a monster by teaching that young lady to read."

"She was halfway there, already. She just needed books and motivation."

"Maybe you'd like to work with Kitta."

"I don't know much about kids."

"You're a married woman, Diana. You'll need to know."

Before she could answer, a door slammed and Macy came into the room, struggling under a stack of books. "You've got a gold mine here, Ms. Channing. How'd you get all these up the mountain?"

"I think the more important question is how you intend on getting them all back down. I said you could borrow a few, not the entire library."

Macy giggled. "I'm going to narrow this down to just two or three. But they all looked good, and I read so slow, I figured I'd need to spend some time figuring out which ones I really wanted. I brought them in here so I wouldn’t be distracted by all the other ones."

"Take your time. There's never any rush around here."

"Actually," Macy sighed, "Joseph wants to leave tomorrow."

"So soon?"

"He's got some things he wants to before we go back to camp."

"What crazy idea does he have this time?" Diana asked.

"He thinks we should go back a different way and check out some of the towns along the rail line."

"Don't tell me he's planning another derailment."

"No, nothing like that." She ducked her head shyly. "He thinks the wars will be over soon and when they are, he wants to buy us a house and get a job with the railway."

Diana frowned. "No one’s going to pay him to blow up their trains."

"Stop that." Macy slapped her on the arm. "He figures since he knows all the best ways to destroy trains, he'll be a good person to tell them how to keep them safe."

"There may be something to that," Amalia said.

"What will you do if he gets a job in town?" Diana asked. When Macy motioned to the books by way of answer, Diana inspected them more closely. "You're going to try and be a doctor?"

"A midwife. Why not?"

"You aren't going to learn it just from books."

"I know. I've got money to pay for training, once we settle somewhere. What do you think I did with all those dollars Joseph used to pay me to go to bed with him?"

Amalia gave a little jerk of her head to indicate Kitta, who was listening to their conversation with rapt attention. "Little pitchers have big ears."

"My ears aren't big," Kitta said.

Diana laughed. "She's got you there, Auntie."

"She's too clever for her own good." Amalia opened a cupboard and began pulling out containers. "And now if you girls don't mind, I'm going to prepare some lunch. Macy, why don't you get some cheese out of the root cellar, and a few vegetables. Any kind."

"How can I help?" Diana struggled to her feet.

Amalia looked at her belly. "You can help by staying out of the way. Keep Kitta occupied."

"She's already occupied."

"Diana. . ."

"Okay." She sat down again and scooted closer to Kitta. "Let's see what's going on with the Man in the Yellow Hat."

Thirty Three

2007-08-31T22:42:00.004-06:00

Will stared at the seemingly sheer face of the mountain. "There's supposed to be a trail somewhere that leads up to their property," he said, crumpling Amalia's hand-drawn map in his fist. "Damn if I can see it."

Coyote held out his hand. "Let me." He smoothed the paper and traced the markings with his finger, then he looked up, frowning. He shoved the map in a pocket and walked his horse back and forth along the tree line. Finally he stopped, stared up at the rocks, pines and aspens above, then turned his horse in a completely unexpected direction. He poked around in some brush. "Here it is."

The others trotted over. "What did you find?"

Coyote pointed to a pile of rocks. "It's a lousy cairn, but I think they want it that way. Keeps the riff-raff out."

They started up the hidden trail, their horses moving slowly over the steep, rocky ground. Beyond the first line of trees, the trail broadened and there was evidence someone had made an effort to clear it of rocks and roots. They made their way under the shade of the pines, listening to the whispering of aspens. Butterflies flitted across their path and chipmunks paused on tree trunks to watch them pass. Diana looked at the late afternoon sunlight filtering through the branches and felt a deep peace settle over her. The others picked up on the mood, falling into a companionable silence.

They came into a clearing as dusk was falling. There was no sign to indicate what sort of place they had come to, but the long stone building flanked by little cabins had to be the school and dormitories. Neat paths led to gardens, a barn and a log house with solar panels on the roof.

They walked their horses through a cloud of winking fireflies, following the scent of food and the sound of genial conversation. Finally they came to an open patio where a group of adults lingered over supper. Amalia looked up from her plate and her face broke into a delighted grin. She ran to them, then stopped as if unsure what to say.

Will dismounted and threw his arms around her. "We've missed you, Mother."

Diana hung back, acutely conscious of her swollen belly. Amalia pretended not to see it and pulled her close. "It's good to have you here."

Diana nodded and pressed her face against Amalia's shoulder until she got control of her emotions. Finally she stepped back and smiled. "It's a nice place, Auntie."

"It's all yours, for as long as you want."

By now Macy and Coyote had dismounted, and Amalia waved them both to her and hugged them. Coyote made it brief, but Macy hung on. "Camp's been no good without you, Ms. Channing."

As they made casual conversation about their trip and the weather, Miguel wandered over and the round of greetings began again as he welcomed them to his home. He asked after Harley, Alexander, and Sputnik, which caused Diana to blush, but no one noticed in all the excitement, and soon Miguel was leading them to the patio. The other people at the table stood up and were introduced in turn, but the travelers were too tired to do more than smile and murmur appropriate greetings.

"If you want to wash up," one woman said, "I'll have supper waiting for you when you return."

"I’ll have Paul unpack your horses and put them up for the night," Miguel added. "Settle in, eat, and relax."

"I think we have some hot water left. You can have showers after dinner, if you like," Amalia told them. "And we've had beds made up and waiting since the first of the month." She beamed at Will and Diana, barely able to contain her joy. "It's so good to have you back."

After a simple dinner of venison, potatoes and wild greens, Miguel brought out some wine and everyone lingered on the patio, enjoying the cool night air and the sky full of stars. Miguel's staff retired for the evening, leaving the others to get caught up. The young people described their journey, and Will and Coyote told Miguel some of their plans for the fall campaigns. Amalia gave them all the news of summer and told them of their preparations for the upcoming school season, which would be her first as a teacher. "In the morning," she said, "I'll give you a tour of the grounds, if you're interested."

Diana was stretched out on a chaise lounge, nestled in Will's arms as he toyed with her braid. "I'd like that," she said. "If I'm going to be living here for awhile, I want to know everything about it."

"Don't go throwing yourself into lots of farm chores," Will told her. "You're supposed to rest and take care of yourself."

"That's not what the book says." She looked at Macy. "Doesn't the book say exercise is good for me?"

Macy gave an authoritative nod and turned to Amalia. "I've been doing some reading. She needs fresh fruits and vegetables, milk, lots of water, light exercise and something called folic acid. Do you know what that is? My book is missing some pages."

Amalia suppressed a smile. "Yes, I know what that is, dear. If she's been eating summer fruits and vegetables she's probably fine. Don't worry. I'll send for a midwife in a day or two." She turned to Diana with a frown. "Have you seen a doctor or a midwife since I left?"

Diana shook her head. "Why should I?"

"It's okay if you don't want this baby, but it still deserves to be cared for. It's a living creature."

"Don't I know it. Damn thing kicks hard."

"And then there's the issue of your own health. This isn't like having the sniffles. It's a significant medical condition."

"I've been trying to tell her," Macy said.

"I'm fine," Diana sighed. "Why do you all worry about me so much? If I were any healthier, I'd be sick."

"We'll have the midwife come, anyway. For my own peace of mind, if not for yours."

Diana looked across the clearing, lit dimly by stars, moon and pinpricks of light from the dormitory windows across the clearing.

"Can't we talk about something besides me? This is such a peaceful place. Seems like we could find something more interesting to discuss, like the moon or crickets."

"You're tired." Will kissed her hair. "It was a long way to travel in all that heat and dust, and you not able to get comfortable. I think it's about time to turn in." He helped Diana to her feet. "It'll be nice to sleep in a bed, won't it?"

She nodded and let Amalia lead them to a small but cozy room, bright with quilts and rag rugs. Diana sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm going to get spoiled living here."

"You deserve to be spoiled." Will squeezed her hand.

"And you can stay as long as you want," Amalia reminded her.

"As long as you're back for the spring campaigns," Will added. "But of course once the war is over, if this is where you want to live, that's okay with me."

Seeing the look of consternation on Diana's face, Amalia said, "This is no time to be planning the rest of our lives. Life has a funny way of planning it for us." She gave Diana a kiss. "Good night, dear. If there's anything you need, wake me up."

Will nearly smothered her in an embrace. "Thank you, Mother. It means a lot to us to have a home."

Thirty Two

2007-08-30T22:41:00.002-06:00

Curious as to why a stranger would offer her any favors, Diana followed the woman through the labyrinth of huts. Thin women in rags paused in open doorways and naked children stopped playing in the dust as she passed. Diana looked around uneasily. Was this some sort of trap? Did the old woman work for a gang of thieves or worse?

The baby kicked, bringing Diana back to reality. A pregnant traveler dressed plainly as she was, wasn’t an attractive target. Most likely the old woman was just what she appeared to be—a kind person who had seen more than her share of trouble.

When she arrived at the plywood and cardboard hovel the woman called home, there were bottles of clear water to be had, and Diana drank gratefully. “It’s sweet,” she said.

“That’s because it’s pure.”

After she had drank her fill, the woman asked if she would like to stay the night. “I don’t have much to offer, but you’ll be safe.”

“Thank you, but I’m with friends. I’m not worried about my safety.”

“How many friends? They would be welcome, too.”

Diana got Will, Macy and Coyote, and they helped the old woman with chores and repairs in return for a meal of cornmeal cakes and summer vegetables, and a place to sleep on the floor. In the morning the woman made an atole for them and filled their canteens with her sun-distilled water. As they left, she slipped something into Diana’s hand and closed her fingers over it so she wouldn’t look. “Be strong,” she told her. “The world is a mean place, but it’s especially cruel to the weak.”

Diana nodded and pretended to understand. Once they were on their way again, she looked at what the woman had given her. It was a polished piece of amber, and trapped inside was a tiny insect, wings splayed in frozen flight. It annoyed her, although she couldn't have said exactly why, and she made to throw it away. But remembering it might have value as something to trade for food and shelter, she slipped it into her pocket.

Thirty One

2007-08-29T23:24:00.002-06:00

Finally there came a day when they found themselves on the outskirts of a ruined city. There had been fighting here, as tribes from the reservations battled local citizens for control of the deserted suburbs. Homes and businesses lay in blackened ruins and the structures that remained were falling apart, pock-marked with bullets and shrapnel.

Will reined in and looked around. "Estrella is on the far side of those mountains up ahead. Going around this town will take a whole extra day, and may not be any safer than cutting through."

Diana sighed. The green of the mountains was inviting. It would be cool up there, and she longed to see Amalia and rest in a bed of her own. "I'm not afraid to go through town."

Will looked at her belly, which seemed bigger with each passing day. "I won't let you put yourself in danger."

"I can manage."

"Your balance is all thrown off."

"I'm trying to think of it as a counterweight."

Will turned to Coyote. "What do you think?"

Coyote shook his head. "Nothing. I've been picking up a lot of interference lately."

"I thought you said you weren't a radio."

"I'm not. It's just a conversation I listen to, and lately they've been saying the same damn thing over and over." He darted a glance at Diana. "She's in no danger here."

"What about the rest of us?"

"We take our chances."

Will moved his horse in front, Diana behind him, with Macy and Coyote bringing up the rear. They were on the remains of the old state highway, the asphalt nearly buried under blowing sand. After a few miles, the highway became a business road, flanked on either side by decrepit hotels and ruined shopping centers.

"Look at all the pretty plastic!" Macy pointed to the remains of broken signs.

Coyote shrugged. "It's just old oil that would've been better used fueling a train."

"It's the colors I like. They'd make great jewelry."

"Too brittle," Diana said. "You wouldn't be able to shape them."

"I bet there's a way." Macy lapsed into a pensive silence.

They continued without speaking, the wind blowing trash, tumbleweeds and the remains of dead electrical lines across their path. It seemed the entire suburban region was uninhabited, although the scraps of old bedding and charcoal remains of cooking fires suggested someone had tried to live in these abandoned structures for awhile.

"I wonder what drove them out," Coyote said.

Diana looked around. "No water."

As they neared the center of town, the buildings became older, with thicker walls and windows placed to let the breezes flow through. There were trees here, indicating that a river flowed nearby. Here too, were the people. Children and dogs saw them first, rushing them in a shouting, yapping horde. Diana tightened her hands on the reins, but the others had all been street urchins once and shooed the kids away without a second thought. "Go on, we ain't got nothing. We're hungry, too."

The street curved toward the center of town, twisting and becoming lost amid the stone and adobe buildings. Trees were taller here and their leaves cooled the desert wind. There were people everywhere now, some on horses, donkeys and bicycles, but most on foot. They were intent on the ordinary business of running what was left of their city, and since there seemed to be no danger, Will suggested they try to look less threatening. Diana arranged her shift to emphasize her belly and tried to look meek. Behind her, Macy shook her hair out of its ponytail and unbuttoned her blouse. The men hid all but their hunting weapons.

When they came to the river flowing through the center of town, Will's horse balked. Although he jerked on the reins, the mare flared her nostrils, smelling the moisture in the air. Nothing would do but that she go down the bank and drink. "They're thirsty," Diana reminded him. Her own horse was fighting her, too.

The banks of the river were thick with squatters' huts, made of any sort of signs, bricks and paneling that could be held together with nails or yucca twine. A narrow stone path led to the water. The horses drank as Diana struggled for balance, leaning over the water to wash the dust off her face.

A voice behind her made her sit up. A white-haired woman, her face furrowed with years, stood watching her. “I’ve got better water than that,” she offered. “I distill it to remove the impurities. It will be better for you and your baby.” She gave a little jerk of her head. “Come with me.”

Thirty

2007-08-28T23:53:00.001-06:00

By summer, Diana's pregnancy hindered her riding, limited her training, and interfered with just about everything. She couldn’t get comfortable during the day and slept poorly at night. She weakened her body with her attempts to go without food in a misguided notion that she might still starve herself into a miscarriage.

"It's too late for that," Macy told her. She had acquired a book about pregnancy and was puzzling her way through it. "My book says the baby will take what it needs out of your muscles and bones, so you're only starving yourself. Besides, if it's not healthy, you won't find anyone to adopt it and you'll be stuck with it."

"I won't be stuck with it," Diana said. "I can always leave it on a doorstep and run away.”

Macy sighed. "I wish me and Joseph had a home. I'd take your baby."

"Then I'd have to see the stupid brat every time I came to visit. No, thanks."

In July, Will and Diana packed their horses and prepared to leave for Estrella. Coyote and Macy were accompanying them, Coyote to help protect Diana, and Macy because she wouldn't be separated from her man. Diana chafed at needing two men to watch out for her, but it was a pleasant journey north, even though Diana suffered from the heat and couldn't get comfortable on her horse. She liked being in open country and she felt more optimistic about the future than she had in a long time.

After she had the baby, Will would return to their unit to help lead the fall campaigns. She would stay in the mountains with Amalia and he would come for her at Christmas.

Or so he thought.

Diana looked at Will riding ahead with Coyote, and felt a little sorry for him. Now that her belly relieved her of the obligation of being a wife to him, she was happier than she had been in a long time. They had begun to regain the closeness they had as children, lying awake under the stars at night, whispering, plotting, and telling crazy stories. She accepted his attention without the sense that he had other motives, and when she nestled against him to sleep, it seemed she could feed off his strength, just as she used to before things became so complicated. It was hard to believe she was really going to leave.

"Why do you look at Will like that?" Macy asked one afternoon as they traced the bank of an arroyo.

"How do I look at him?"

"Like he makes you sad. Do you wish this was his baby?"

Diana looked at her, startled. "Don't be silly." She peered at a smudge of green on the horizon. "Looks like water up ahead. Maybe there will be a farm."

"I hope so. We should be getting there in time for dinner."

"Another opportunity for me to play the poor little expectant mother." Diana had found that being pregnant was good for sympathy. She would knock on a likely door and beg for a meal and a place to sleep. Once she had gained someone’s grudging pity, Macy would join her, adding her charm. Then the men would offer to do some chores or repairs. Dinner and a hayloft were nearly always forthcoming. Sometimes they got breakfast, too. Although she hated the solicitousness of the farm wives and the way strangers patted her belly and assumed she was thrilled at becoming a mother, Diana's sense of honor ran strong. She needed to contribute, and if pleading her belly would feed her friends, she would suffer the humiliation in silence.

Twenty Nine

2007-08-27T23:58:00.003-06:00

Diana was reluctant to return to camp. Will would wonder where she had been and Coyote would look at her in the odd way he had taken to lately. The others would want to discuss the morning's assassination. They would expect her to be pleased at her success, as if death, no matter how justified, was cause for celebration.

She took her time riding through town. There was still a bit of light, and with a major conference beginning in the morning, it was in everyone's interest that the town be safe. Diana wandered past stores turned into squatter camps, gas stations that had become markets, and homes that were now hostels and shops. Hand-lettered signs advertised fresh eggs, garden vegetables, used books, batteries, and alteration services. A woman called out to her, offering a room for the night. Children chased her, shrieking for nickels.

Night fell and the streets slowly emptied. Without realizing she had done it, Diana found herself arriving at the safe house where Alexander and other Unitas high command were staying. She jerked on the reins and studied the old hacienda. She was just making up her mind to return to camp, when one of the guards approached, making his rounds. He recognized her and nodded. "Go ahead. La Bella Diana doesn't need to check in."

Worried that it might look strange if she left, Diana thanked him and found the hitching post in the dark. She walked toward the door, wondering what she should claim her errand to be. But as she neared the tiled portico, she remembered the movement she had seen in the courtyard earlier that day and she knew what forbidden thought had brought her here.

She looked around to see if she was being watched, then led her horse away and tethered it in a copse of stunted trees at the edge of the property. She returned to the hacienda, making careful note of the courtyard walls and counting off the windows. They were shuttered against spies and enemies, but Diana found the only one it could be and tapped on the shutter. "Robert!" She tapped again.

There was a sound of a bolt being slid back, and the shutters opened slightly, spilling light into the darkness. "What are you doing here? Go away, before someone sees you."

"Let me in." When he tried to close the shutters, she stopped him. "I'll make a scene!"

"You're already making one."

"Then let me in."

Robert stepped back, glaring as she hoisted herself onto the windowsill and dropped into the room. "Do you have some strange aversion to doors, that you can't enter a room in the normal way?"

Diana would have laughed if the expression on his face had been in any way welcoming. "I figured you'd send me away if I did that. I need to talk to you."

"If this is anything like what you said at the church, I'd rather you leave."

Diana straightened her shoulders. "I know you hate me, but this is business."

"I don't hate you," Robert said, walking across the room.

"Then why—"

"Will you please state your business so we can get on with it?"

"Fine. I want a new assignment." When Robert frowned, she went on. "I want something less bloody, less dangerous." She sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm tired of killing people."

Robert's features softened in sympathy, but his voice remained cool. "This isn't a matter to come to me with. You need to take it up with your unit commander. If you get no satisfaction from him, talk to Alexander."

"But they'll just put me on camp support for a few weeks and tell me to get over it. There must be other types of jobs; ones that are about helping people instead of hurting them."

"Unitas does some public relations work," Robert offered. "We sponsor a couple of refugee hospitals, and we hand out supplies in the towns and camps, but those sorts of things would be a waste of your talents."

"I'm willing to try it."

"What does your husband think?"

Diana looked away and swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. "He knows I'll have to quit in July, and I probably won't be up for military duties again until next spring. But I could start helping with supply distribution in fall or winter. When spring comes, I'll just tell Will that I like it better."

"Why do you have to quit your duties in July?"

His confusion was genuine and Diana stared at him in shock. "You don't know? But I though that was why. . .”

Robert grew still. "Know what?"

She ducked her head, embarrassed to say the words. His continued silence wasn't helping. "If you didn't know, or at least suspect, why didn't you write to me when I was at the safe house? Or come visit? Did you think I was contaminated?" She looked up at him, angry now. "I was so confused, and Will was the only one who offered to help. I was scared to get rid of it, after what happened to Macy, and I couldn’t think what to do." Her eyes were hot and she swiped at her nose.

Robert sank into a chair.

"You were ashamed of me."

"No. I was ashamed of myself. I didn’t warn you there was danger in the area. It’s why you hated me, and with good reason.”

“I didn’t hate you. I hated everyone, especially myself. When you sent me to the safe house, I thought for sure you’d write. But when I heard nothing from you or anyone else. . ."

Robert shook his head. "I’ve been an idiot. It's just as well you're another man's wife."

"I'm not—"

"Are you saying it's just a marriage of convenience?"

She turned away from the hopeful look in his eyes. "It's a little more than that for him."

"I see." Robert rested his elbows on his knees and stared at the floor. At last he made a feeble attempt at picking up the thread of their earlier discussion. "So will you want to work at a distribution point, or directly with the people? I can make arrangements for you, either way."

"Does this mean you don't want me?"

"Let's not do this to ourselves. We had our chance, but that moment has passed. You're the wife of one of our best soldiers, a young man we’re grooming for command."

"So? He tricked me into marrying him. I wasn’t in my right mind. But I am now, and I love you. If you still want me, I'll leave him."

"Yes, and he'll shoot me for stealing his wife, and none of us will be any better off."

"Who says we have to stay here? You told me once there's Unitas groups all over, trying to piece the United States back together. We'll join some other group."

"If you’re done with fighting, what would we do?"

"We'll go to Kentucky. I'll train horses and give riding lessons. You'll do whatever smart people do."

Robert smiled indulgently. "It's not as simple as you make it sound."

"So you make the plan."

"What plan? For us to run away together? That's impossible. I'll do almost anything for you, but not that."

"Why not? Are you still a coward?" Diana got up and stood as close as she dared. "You're smart. If you love me, you can think of a way we can be together." She put her arms around his neck and leaned toward him.

Robert tried to push her away, but without conviction. "We can't do things just because we want to."

"Sure we can. What other way is there?" She kissed him long and slow and this time he pulled her close. But then just as suddenly, he drew away.

"What's the matter? Do you find me disgusting because. . ."

"No, you silly thing." He cupped her cheek. "I just don't like to torture myself. Haven’t you figured that out yet?" He went to his desk and reached for a pen. Diana watched as he sketched a map and made a few notes. "I'll be going home for Christmas this year unless something unexpected comes up." He folded the paper and handed it to her. "If in December you still feel the way you do now, this is where you can find me."

Diana took the paper and frowned. "This is only a map to the town. How will I find your house?"

"The town is guarded. Tell any sentry who you are and you’ll be given directions." He unlocked a desk drawer. "This is for your journey." He handed her two gold coins. "One is for supplies, the other to hire a guard. Tell your guard he'll get another gold piece from me when you arrive safely."

Diana put the map and coins in her pocket. "So what will we—"

"I don't know, but by Christmas, I'll have a plan." He took her hand. "This is a serious matter, Diana. You're asking me to take big risks and give up everything I’ve worked for. If there's even the smallest doubt in your mind about it being forever this time, don't come. I'll understand."

Twenty Eight

2007-08-26T22:17:00.003-06:00

That afternoon Will settled in for a nap. Grateful for some unstructured time, Diana saddled her horse and slipped away before anyone could ask what her plans might be.

She rode through the outskirts of town, winding her way to the cemetery road on the same route she had taken that morning. As she approached the rise where she had shot Strecker, she reined in and scanned the weeds at the side of the road. From time to time her gaze drifted toward the shack where she had lain in wait that morning, as if the ghost of an assassin might be watching her. She shrugged off the feeling and kept looking. Finally her eyes lit on a patch of red hidden in a clump of sage behind a chunk of broken concrete. She fished around in the weeds and pulled out a bouquet of roses.

She brushed off the dust and disentangled bits of dry grass from the stems, careful to avoid the thorns. Then she got back on her horse and followed the road to where it terminated in a series of plastered adobe posts. The metal rails and gate had long ago been sold for scrap, and an improvised fence had been made by stringing rope made from the tough fibers of the yucca plant.

There was no gate, so Diana walked her horse through.

It was her first time in a cemetery since she had buried her family, but this valley graveyard was not unlike the one that sat atop a low hill near her Valley Redondo home. Spanish in character, it was colorful with paper flowers and small offerings, pious with crosses and plaster virgins. Rosaries were draped over some of the markers, dull and cracked after years of exposure to the elements.

Uncertain where she was going, Diana dismounted, tethered her horse to a monument, and began walking the rows. Some of the stones were hand-carved, the inscriptions informal and misshapen. Others had been inscribed by machine and had the cold, efficient look of the early years of the century. Many markers had no names at all, and Diana began to fear she wouldn't find the stone she sought.

Finally she located it and immediately wondered how she could have overlooked it, bedecked as it was with flowers, statuary and other colorful offerings. The marker was polished to a high gloss and neatly lettered: Jacinta Matute-Evans. Behind an oval of glass, Diana could make out the fading image of a pretty, dark-haired girl. She looked like a cheerful sort, the type of girl who found a lot to laugh about. Why would she have ratted out a hoarder— someone who only wanted to survive these crazy times, just as she had surely hoped to?

Diana set the roses in a vase of water in front of the picture after removing a bunch of yellow flowers that appeared to have been placed just a day or two before. She laid the old flowers near several other bouquets drying in the sun beside statues of madonnas and friendly-looking woodland creatures. Some envelopes weighted with rocks intrigued her, and Diana selected one at random. The letter inside startled her in its ordinariness, as of a man writing to a living woman he expected to see in a day or two. With a puzzled frown, she placed it back under the rock. She looked at the vast open space all around, then returned her gaze to the smiling girl on the headstone. "Don't tell me he was just a man."

The thoughts that had eluded her that morning washed over her— memories of soldiers herding her family's animals into transport trucks, men setting her home ablaze. She remembered her grandfather tackled and beaten as he ran for the house, her mother dragged away and shot on Strecker's orders. Diana had wanted to go to her, Strecker be damned, but Will had held her close, clamping his hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming. She had fought him so hard it was weeks before the last of the bruises faded, but he had saved her from her worst instincts. When Strecker and his men departed, he took her to Amalia.

Every twisted thing in her life: this crazy career of killing, the hateful parasite growing inside her, and her half-incestuous marriage, could be traced back to that one March day. Diana glared at Jacinta's headstone. "Didn't you realize all the trouble one mistake can cause?" She kicked a ceramic fawn. "We're so stupid. All of us."

With the image of forever-cheerful Jacinta burning in her mind, Diana retraced her steps up the path. The sun was setting, casting blue shadows among the graves. Time seemed to hold its breath as the wind rustled the paper flowers and blew dust to cover the dead. Diana shook herself, grabbed her horse's reins and swung herself into the saddle.

Twenty Seven

2007-08-25T22:46:00.003-06:00

Will, Diana and Coyote sat on stiff leather sofas in the living room of Alexander's safe house.

Bowls of dried fruit, pepitas and honeyed pecans had been set out, but they only picked at the food, more interested in the cocktails after the bloody slaughter that morning. They had lost a horse, Coyote had taken a bullet to the shoulder, and Dale from Lone Star had been badly wounded. But Strecker, his guards and his affiliates were dead, as were the men who had been left in town to plant explosives at the hotel.

At the sound of footsteps, they got to their feet. The new commander walked in flanked by guards, and Diana was surprised at his youth. Not yet forty and with a boy’s easy movements and sudden smile, Alexander hardly seemed old enough to lead a sniper unit, let alone be in command of the entire region.

He came over with a friendly, confident air, looking for all the world like an ordinary soldier they might go on a reconnaissance mission with. He dispensed with military protocol and approached Diana first. “So you’re the talented and impulsive Bella Diana,” he said, shaking her hand.

“Nice to meet you, although I don’t know where you got ‘Bella’…”

“You’re not familiar with the song? You’re Unitas’ first celebrity.”

Diana drew back, startled. “I was aware of a song some guy was singing in Ferrous Springs. . .”

“It’s become popular. I think Sputnik knows all the different versions that are out there. I can have him write them down for you, if you’re curious. No? Well, there will be a new version after this morning. Excellent work.”

He shook Coyote's hand next. "I understand you're the one who hears voices and blows up trains."

"I swear I'm not as crazy as I sound."

He turned to Will last. The two powerful men sized each other up, and each seemed satisfied with what he saw. Alexander started to shake Will's hand, then thought better of it and clapped him in a friendly embrace. "William Channing. I'm glad to finally meet you."

Diana sat uneasily while the men exchanged pleasantries. A movement at the corner of her vision caught her attention. Through the window she thought she saw someone emerge from a door on the other side of the courtyard.

She resisted the urge to stare and instead forced herself to pay attention to Will and Alexander’s conversation.

"I hear you recently married la Bella Diana."

"Yes, Diana is my wife."

"But what they say about us in the Ferrous Springs song isn’t true," Diana interrupted.

“That's okay. We want to capitalize on it, regardless. Unitas needs heroes who can excite the public imagination, and even though the story isn’t strictly factual, it fits the bill.”

“I don’t want to be a hero, or anything else.”

Will covered her hand with his. “If it’s for the cause and will win us supporters—

“Why would such horrible lies gain us supporters?”

“There’s no such thing as bad publicity,” came a voice from the hall doorway.

Diana looked up to see Robert watching her with a cool look she couldn’t interpret. She made to stand, but sank back onto the sofa at a wave of his hand.

“Don’t get up on my account. You've had quite a morning.”

“Which is the real reason you’re here,” Alexander added. He sat in a leather chair and a boy brought him a drink. "Your work today was impressive."

"Just another sniper mission," Coyote said.

"It was a little more than that. Not only did you eliminate a man who was widely regarded as a menace, but by engaging the assistance of Lone Star, you've taken us an important step closer to a meaningful alliance with them." He looked at Will. "Harley says the plan you carried out today was yours."

"Much of it was," Will said. "But having backup on the cemetery road was Harley's idea, so if anyone deserves credit, it’s my unit commander."

"If you’re to be a successful commander in your own right, you have to be willing to listen to advice. You did just that, and deserve credit for it."

While Will and Alexander discussed the events of the morning, Diana sipped her drink and tried to ignore the sense that Robert was watching her. It wasn't anything she could prove. Every time she looked at him his attention seemed to be elsewhere, but then she would turn back to the conversation or look at Coyote, who was pretending not to be bored, and she once again felt like she was being scrutinized.

"I didn't realize Hispanos Unidos had become so supportive of inter-group collaboration," Will was saying. "Now if we can prevent México Lindo from interfering. . ."

"Yes," Alexander said. "We're closer than we had any reason to believe last year."

Diana darted another glance at Robert. This time she caught him staring and he looked away.

"Have we tried bypassing the México Lindo radicals and offering an alliance directly to Sonora?" Will asked.

"Lone Star tried it. They made a collective offer to Coahuila, Chihuahua and Sonora. It didn't pan out."

"Maybe we can make a treaty with Sonora on its own."

Alexander looked at Robert. "What do you think? I know it's been discussed before. Would it be a good use of our time to bypass México Lindo and offer a treaty directly to the Mexican government? It would take away some of México Lindo’s momentum, and it would force them to either support peaceful unification or prove themselves common troublemakers."

Robert hadn't been paying attention and tried to pick up the thread of the conversation. "Mexico is breaking up, no matter what the México Lindo faction would like us to believe," he said. "But of course no Mexican state would accept an offer to join Texas. They think Texas should return to them, not the other way around."

"Forget Texas for a minute. What if the offer came from us?"

"Maybe. We'd want to change the name of our proposed nation, but—"

"What were you going to call it?" Coyote asked, suddenly all attention.

"The United States of the Southwest."

Coyote sank back against the cushions, disappointed. "Boring."

"Have you got a better idea?" Alexander asked.

"Don't you dare say Atzlán," Robert added.

"How about the Grand United Republic of Western Nations?"

"That's a lot of words. Can't even get a good acronym out of that."

"How about the Federation of the West?" Diana said. "Federacion del Oeste."

"It's inoffensive," Alexander agreed.

"But it’s premature,” Will said. "Isn't peace more important than a name?"

"Of course," Alexander said. "But it's never too early to dream."

"Well, I hope the conference tomorrow will be more than just dreams," Diana said. "It seems like in San Eusebio, all they did was talk."

"And shoot people." Robert looked at her frankly and their eyes met in shared remembrance. "It will be different this time. The drought is worse and ordinary citizens are beginning to lose patience. They want peace so they can rebuild, and many of them no longer care who brings it to them."

"We won't decide everything tomorrow," Alexander said, "But breakthroughs often happen when you least expect it."

"How soon do you think we'll have peace?" Diana asked.

Alexander gave a noncommittal shrug. "Nothing is ever certain, Bella Diana. But we could have a general cease-fire as soon as next year. I'll be surprised if we're still at war three years from now."

“We’re really that close?”

“Possibly. Of course, in war anything can happen.”

Twenty Six

2007-08-24T23:42:00.003-06:00

Diana’s hiding place was a tumbledown shack at the side of the road.

In the semi-darkness, she paced the dusty room, then went to the window and looked out. The sun was rising and from this low hill she had a clear line of sight down the road to town, but there was still no sign of Strecker.

A movement in the rubble across the way caught her attention. She signaled with her flashlight and smiled when Will signaled in return, but resisted the temptation to invent silly new signals like she would have only a year ago.

She sat on a crate and returned her gaze to the road, letting her thoughts drift. This was the morning she had waited for nearly half her life. The boys had promised her the first shot. But as she searched her feelings, she was surprised to find neither happiness nor nervous excitement, but only a vague sadness that it had come to this. She took a sip of water from her canteen, checked her rifles again, then stood and stretched her arms overhead.

How long did it take to buy flowers? Strecker hadn't changed his plans, had he? No, Coyote would've known something. She resisted the urge to go to the side door and signal to him. If he sensed something important, he would find a way to tell her. Diana sat in the window again, resting her cheek against the sill. The road glowed faintly pink as the sky lightened. Somewhere nearby, a bird warbled a few hesitant notes.

Now Diana noticed a movement on the horizon. She sat up, every sense alert. The shape grew and resolved into a cluster. She flashed Will a signal, but paid no mind to his answer because the group of horsemen was growing larger fast, and she realized with surprise there were more than they had anticipated. Coyote was never wrong. Could these be the men they wanted?

She flashed another signal to Will and looked again. Two lead men. One man behind, flanked by two more. And behind them, four others. She frowned. It certainly looked like the group they were after, except for the size of the guard contingent. They passed behind an old wall at a curve in the road and Diana paced in frustration as she waited for them to reappear.

After what seemed like forever, they came around the bend, and now Diana understood. The two men in front and the two flanking Strecker were indeed his guards, wearing black. The ones behind were of some other affiliation, wearing uniforms she didn't recognize. Coyote had been right, after all. He had merely asked “them” the wrong questions.

She flashed Will a final signal and settled in to wait.

The group grew larger. She picked up one of her rifles and knelt out of sight from the road, watching through the scope as the men approached. Her hands were dry and didn't tremble as she rested her finger on the trigger. Her mind was as calm as if she were settling in for a nap on a summer afternoon. How could she feel so empty? Had death become so routine she no longer felt anything?

They were almost to her hill now, almost under her window. The men were relaxed, enjoying the cool spring morning. Strecker smiled at something one of his men said, then turned his attention back to the road. His bearing was straight and proud, his hair blazing in the morning sunlight. He carried a bouquet of spring roses for Jacinta.

Diana got him in her sights and pulled the trigger.

Twenty Five

2007-08-23T23:20:00.002-06:00

Diana slept so soundly she was unaware of Will’s return, only noticing him beside her when Compass woke them just before dawn with word that breakfast was ready. She fumbled with her buttons as she dressed, noticing that Will hadn’t even bothered getting out of his clothes from the night before.

When they stumbled to the cooking fire, they found Coyote bright and alert, already working on his second plate of eggs. "Hey, slowpokes. There's coffee, if you need it."

Diana raised her eyebrows. "Do you ever need any sleep?"

"I think the voices sustain him," Will muttered, pouring a cup of coffee.

Coyote shrugged. "I sleep when I can. Any time is good enough for me. Maybe I'll take a nap this afternoon."

"I might need to join you," Will said, sitting down beside him.

They looked up at the sound of horses’ hooves. Three young women emerged from the shadows, leading their horses. Jane moved into range of the campfire's glow and touched the brim of her hat. "Good morning. I'd have thought y'all would be ready by now."

"Just a few more minutes," Will said, getting to his feet. He motioned Diana forward. "Jane, I'd like you to meet my wife."

Jane shook Diana's hand, a vague pout hinting at her disappointment. "Nice to meet you. You've got a fine man." She introduced her companions, Dale and Bluebonnet, and they sat down to sip coffee and finalize strategy.

"We three should be able to take them out, no trouble," Will said. "So you may not have to do anything. Just keep an eye out for any who manage to get away."

"Roundups is what we're good at," Dale said.

Jane nodded. "Ellie Mae said you were in charge, so just tell us where to be and we'll make sure those bastards don’t get past us."

Twenty Four

2007-08-22T23:37:00.001-06:00

In spite of the late hour, Harley was anxious to meet with them. "That's good information you got," he told the girls, "But it's almost too late to be of use. It's after midnight and you're talking about an early morning assassination when you don't even have a location."

"So?" Diana looked at Will and Coyote. "We can scout it tonight."

"In the dark?"

"There's a moon."

"And do you have a plan for dispatching Strecker’s guards?"

"We kind of thought you or Alexander would know what we should do,” Diana said.

"Maybe we could use Ellie Mae and her girls,” Will suggested. “They owe us a favor. And they have as much an interest as we do in seeing Strecker doesn't live long enough to disrupt the conference."

Harley sat back, smiling slowly. "Tell me more. Where will you station them, and with what orders?"

Will considered. "It will depend on where we decide to kill Strecker, of course. But our most likely spot would be on the plaza because there’s plenty of buildings. Secondary would be somewhere along the road, if we can find good cover. The cemetery will probably be out of the question because there's not likely to be enough places to hide."

"How many guards will be with Strecker? And if they're not all with him, how will we find the rest so they don't make trouble?"

Will had been feeling pleased with himself, but now his face fell and he looked at Diana.

“He’ll have at least three,” Diana said, “Since the guys we talked to tonight were all going.”

“Actually, it will be at least four,” Macy added. “Enrique says Strecker has a thing for even numbers."

“We can handle four,” Will said. “We’ll have cover and they won’t.”

Harley sighed and shook his head. “You’re speculating. None of you has told me anything that gives me confidence that you won’t end up being ambushed, yourselves. I can’t allow—

“But it will be four," Coyote said. "Send a group to the Aguila Dorada hotel around noon. Tell them to kill the workmen in the ballroom—that’s where the rest of Strecker’s guards will be, disguised as ordinary workers and placing explosives ahead of the conference."

“How do you know this?” Will asked.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged and looked away.

“Makes me wonder why we bother going spying, if we’ve got you,” Diana said. "What else do they say?”

"Nothing." He looked at Diana in bewilderment. “Nothing important.”

“I'll ask Ellie Mae to send some of her people to the Aguila Dorada, then,” Will said. “We can send Boeing and Dell to check Strecker's room, in case he’s in the habit of leaving someone there. That’ll just leave us to handle Strecker and his guards on the cemetery road, and it should be no problem."

"You’ve gone from guessing to trusting someone who hears voices in his head," Harley pointed out. "This is no way to earn your own command."

“Well, I don’t see where we’ve got any other options. It’s not like you haven’t listened to him, too.”

"I know,” Harley said. “Since time is running out, I suppose it’s worth chancing as long as we take reasonable precautions. Sending a few people to the Aguila Dorada won’t hurt, even if it doesn’t help, and I like your idea of asking Ellie Mae to give you a few of her girls for backup on the sniper mission. Maybe Jane and a couple of her friends would like to do it."

Will nodded. "So you think our plan will work?"

"I’d rather you were acting on concrete information, but it's as good as anything I could've come up with under the circumstances. I'll go with you tonight to scout for your sniper's perch. Leave Diana here to rest."

"I don't need—

"Diana." Harley gave her a serious look. "Babies sap a lot of a woman's energy, and you'll need a steady hand tomorrow. Go to bed. And drink plenty of water. I can smell the gin on you from here."

Twenty Three

2007-08-21T23:18:00.003-06:00

A solar lamp glowed blue outside the shabby pub and a wooden sign swung in the breeze. Macy and Diana reined in, jumped off their horses and shed their dusters. Macy was festive in red with spangles and feathers. Diana owned nothing comparable, other than the rose-colored dress Sputnik had arranged for her the year before, and the bodice no longer fit her thickening waist. She wore her black dress from that morning, altered Macy-style, the skirt slashed and pinned to show some leg, collar unbuttoned to her breastbone, and a glittering necklace of salvaged glass at her throat. Diana had protested Macy's efforts with makeup and curling iron, but only weakly, and now she looked quite the coquette with her painted lips and riotous brown curls.

"Smile," Macy whispered, taking her arm. "We're a couple of young ladies looking for a good time, remember?"

Diana nodded and looked around, her gaze falling on a ragged boy across the street, trying to sell tortillas from the back of a donkey cart. "Oh good, Compass is already here."

"I told you he would be. Now, relax. Just stick to the plan and do what I do."

They stepped into the saloon and paused to get their bearings. The room had a faded elegance about it and although the paneling was dry and splintered, the floor chipped and sconces tarnished, in the dim light these things were easily overlooked. The man behind the bar eyed the girls curiously, trying to determine whether they were whores or just high-spirited townies. Macy steered Diana in the direction of a table out of the main path of traffic. "Gin and tonic, if you've got it," she told the waitress.

"Tonic's flat."

"I don't mind, honey."

The waitress turned to Diana. "And you?"

"Gin and tonic is fine." After she had gone, Diana leaned close to Macy. "Are you sure it's a good idea to drink?"

"We'll stick out if we don't. Just sip slowly."

They paid for their drinks and settled in to wait. A few men sized them up, and wandered over to talk. Macy engaged them in cheerful banter, and soon they were offered more drinks, invited to play cards and asked to dance to the wild flailings of a dusky man at the piano. One of their suitors even tossed them a key to his hotel room, which made Macy giggle. “Too bad I’ve got a boyfriend and have to behave myself,” she said after he left. “I could be earning some money.” When Diana raised her eyebrows, she added, “For Unitas, of course.”

As the night wore on, they grew nervous. If Strecker’s guards didn’t show, what then? They were debating what their next move should be when Diana noticed a movement near the door and dug her fingers into Macy's arm. "Over there."

Three men in black were standing in the doorway, assessing the room and the crowd with critical eyes. With watchful glances all around, they approached the bar where the bartender halted his conversation with a rancher and hurried over. While he mixed their drinks, the guards continued to scan the crowd, as if still on the lookout for threats to their boss.

"Well," Macy said, “No time like the present." She stood up, patted her curls, and sauntered over with a hip-swaying motion that made heads turn. From where she sat, Diana couldn't hear what she said, but it was apparently the right thing because no one seemed suspicious. After some laughter and teasing, Macy took one man by the arm and led him toward Diana, the others falling in behind.

"Graciela," she said, using one of the code names they had agreed upon, "This is my new friend Enrique."

Enrique, a dark brick of a man, shook Diana's hand.

"And his friends Tierry and Botas."

Diana shook hands with each of the men in turn, but gave the last one a quizzical look. "Botas?"

He pulled up a chair and sat down, then held out a foot for her inspection. "Extra big boots. For my big feet. You know what they say about men with big feet."

Diana didn't know, but from Macy's phony giggle, she could guess.

The other men sat down and Macy launched into a bright bit of chatter, asking meaningless questions, feigning great interest in their answers and praising them for their cleverness, no matter how inane their responses. Diana tried to follow along, but couldn’t match the vapid babble of her friend’s conversation. Annoyed and ashamed of herself, she toyed with her glass.

“Want another one?” Tierry asked, indicating Diana’s empty glass.

She nodded, realizing that Tierry had been mostly silent during Macy’s carrying-on. While he tried to attract the waitress’s attention, she studied his face. He was young, with a receding chin that made him look weak, in spite of his stern expression. Diana could have sighed with relief. She knew how to handle shy men. She scooted her chair a little closer.

In spite of Macy’s best flirtations and Diana's progress at winning Thierry's confidence, by midnight they had still found out nothing about Strecker. The guards didn’t even want to reveal their own plans for the next day, let alone their boss’s, other than to say they would be busy.

"You're lying,” Macy laughed, slapping Botas playfully on the arm. “I don’t care how weird you say your boss is. No one makes their people work all day."

"It doesn’t happen all the time, but we’ve got a lot going on and tomorrow is critical."

"What about lunch? We could have a picnic."

"A roll in a grassy field could be fun,” Enrique agreed. “But, no. We’ll be especially busy at lunch."

"What could you possibly—

He patted her knee. "Guy stuff, cutie. Don't you worry about it."

"Well, how about breakfast?" Diana said in exasperation. "Surely your boss will let you have your morning coffee?"

"Only if they're serving it at the cemetery," Tierry sighed.

"What on earth are you going there for?"

All three men exchanged glances. "Boss grew up around these parts," Botas said reluctantly. "His childhood sweetheart is buried here. Back in federal days, she ratted out a hoarder and the hoarder's friends killed her."

"In a very nasty way," Enrique added.

"He still takes flowers to her grave," Tierry said. "First thing tomorrow, we'll go see the flower lady on the plaza, and then we're off to Jacinta's grave. We probably won't stay long," he shrugged. "But you never know with him. He might decide to read poetry to her, like he did a couple days ago."

"I’d sure rather be having coffee. . . or something else with you." Botas said with a wink.

"Maybe you were talking about room service coffee at five o'clock, after being up all night," Enrique offered, tracing the inside of Macy's thigh with his finger. "Come on. How about it?"

"Tomorrow," she laughed, pushing his hand away.

"Tomorrow night's kind of iffy."

"Well tonight's impossible. We've stayed too long as it is."

It took another half hour of protests and persuasion, but Macy and Diana finally extricated themselves and went outside. Diana signaled Compass as she hoisted herself into the saddle. "I have a feeling they might try and track us," she told Macy.

“Don’t I know it. I wouldn’t put a thing past those dogs.”

They kicked their horses into a trot and took the first turn they came to, trusting that if the guards decided to follow, Compass would delay them long enough that they could find Will and Coyote. They hurried through the narrow residential streets, increasingly nervous, straining for the sound of hoof beats behind them.

The sudden flash of a light up ahead made them breathe a little easier. Diana reached for her flashlight and returned the signal. Two shapes separated themselves from the shadows.

"How'd it go?" Coyote asked, pulling up alongside Macy’s mare.

"Great," Diana said. "We've got a perfect chance at Strecker in the morning." She looked over her shoulder. "But those guys started getting weird back there."

"Possessive bastards," Macy muttered.

Will looked back up the street with troubled eyes. "Were you followed?"

“We don’t think so, but we can’t be sure.”

"Let's hurry."

Twenty Two

2007-08-20T22:24:00.003-06:00

Will and Coyote were already waiting on the plaza. With the rest of their unit still on the road, they had time to kill. They bought some food from a street vendor, the girls spread their dusters under a tree, and they settled in for a picnic. The conversation turned naturally to the information they had gleaned at mass.

"Strecker is obviously planning to disrupt the conference," Will said. "I wish we could've found out who he's working for."

Diana picked at her sandwich. "Doesn’t matter. He might be doing it all on his own, just to enjoy the chaos."

Coyote grinned. "I can relate to that. He should try blowing up trains."

Macy nudged him in annoyance, but Will nodded. "That’s a good point. Where would a man like Strecker be if we had peace?"

"Send him to California," Diana said. "Aren't they still having race riots there? He might enjoy that sort of thing."

"We need a more serious plan than that."

"We'll shoot him," Coyote said.

"But where? And when?" Will frowned at Diana and Macy. "You didn’t find out anything at all?"

"I heard some of the guards like to hang out at a bar called La Yegua," Macy said. "Diana and I can go there tonight and chat them up when they come in for a drink."

"I won't allow—"

"Oh Will, don't be such a primitive. We'll just be talking."

"You'll need backup."

"Station Compass outside as a messenger, and you guys wait around the corner or something."

"It's as good a plan as we can make on such short notice," Coyote pointed out.

"We don't have a lot of other options," Diana added. "Not with the conference starting day after tomorrow."

"Okay, so we find out Strecker's schedule for tomorrow and kill him," Will said. "But that still leaves the guards. It sounds like we’ll need to kill them, too."

"Let Unitas high command figure that part out," Diana said.

"Yes, I’m sure your friend Sputnik would be happy to plan the rest for us."

Diana ducked her head and concentrated on crumpling the paper from her sandwich. Searching for another distraction, she remembered the cookies in her pocket, but after much fumbling, all she withdrew was a handful of crumbs.

"Best laid plans," Coyote said with a grin.

She tossed the crumbs away and watched in silence as a flock of glossy ravens swooped down and consumed them.

Twenty One

2007-08-19T23:55:00.004-06:00

After mass they followed the milling crowds into a building fronting the courtyard. The windows were open to the spring breeze and some of the ladies of the congregation had set out snacks, coffee, and a tea of rose hips and raspberry. Diana found Macy near one of the tables, nibbling a cookie.

"Where have you been?" Macy asked.

"I couldn't find you. I sat through mass with Libby."

"I thought maybe you'd snuck off with Sputnik. He's here, you know."

"What on earth makes you think I'd do a thing like that?"

Macy shrugged. "I know you've got some unfinished business with him. I wouldn't think there was anything wrong if you wanted to clear a few things up, so there wouldn't be no hard feelings."

"Well, he's not even speaking to me, so I guess that settles that." She looked around. "Where's Will and Coyote? Have they already gone outside?"

"Yeah, they're watching to see which way Strecker goes when he leaves." Macy finished her cookie and wiped her hands on her skirt. "I'm going to do a little spying." She indicated a middle-aged man who had an air of quiet authority about him. "I've been keeping an eye on that guy. I think he's someone important."

While Macy moved off into the crowd, Diana went to the refreshment table, but in spite of the appealing array of treats, nothing looked good to her. She slipped some cookies into her pocket and poured a cup of tea, then went to where a group of matrons in black huddled together gossiping. She moved slowly, head down, as if lost in gloomy thoughts. She took a seat nearby, sipped her tea and tried to listen.

"I asked him what I was supposed to do if he took all my hens. He just laughed."

"I would've shot him."

"No, you wouldn't have, Marta. Es hombre muy peligroso. And his guards, too. They follow him a todas partes. Kill one, the rest kill you."

"Speaking of his guards," one woman said, "Did you hear the latest? They say last week he hired a girl for her favors and after he was through, he forced her to service his men at no extra charge before he would pay."

"¡Qué cabrón!"

"I don't know how he has the nerve to come to church."

Diana sighed, wishing the ladies had more than just gossip to share. She needed information about Strecker's daily movements, not his sex life. She was wondering if she should seek out someone with better information when she caught sight of Robert. Straight and self-assured, he moved through the crowd, deep in conversation with the priest. When he saw Diana staring at him, he froze. He murmured a few words to the priest, shook his hand, and walked away.

Diana set her empty cup on the seat next to her and went after him. She pushed through the crowd at the door and chased him down the covered walkway, the sound of her footsteps echoing off the flagstones.

Robert quickened his pace. Diana hiked up her skirt and ran. "Robert!" She caught up to him and grabbed his arm.

"If you have anything to report, tell it to Libby. I'm late."

"Liar. You didn't think you needed to leave until you saw me." She tugged his sleeve. "Talk to me. Please? I need to tell you something."

"I can only imagine." He pushed her aside and started walking again.

She tagged after him. "Why do you hate me?"

"I don't hate you."

"Then quit acting like it."

With a scowl, he pulled her into an alcove. "Fine," he said, letting her go so abruptly she nearly fell. "Make it fast. And try to make it more original than what I think you're going to say."

She stared at him, all her words of love and hurt confusion suddenly forgotten. What was it she wanted to say? Oh, he would never stand still for all those words, even if she could remember them, so she did the only thing she could think of: she threw her arms about his neck and kissed him. At first he didn't respond, but then his arms closed around her. She could feel the heat of his hands through the fabric of her dress and she pressed her body against him as he pulled her close.

"I love you, Robert."

As if her words had startled him from a dream, he pulled away. "What new game is this?"

"It's no game. You have to believe me."

"I don't have to do anything. Especially not for you."

"But I love you."

"Is that all you have to say? I'm disappointed." He turned to leave, nearly colliding with Macy as she came up the walkway. He mumbled an apology and hurried on.

Macy took in Diana's rumpled dress and devastated expression, but all she said was, "It's thinning out back there. I don't think we can get any more information today."

Twenty

2007-08-18T23:49:00.003-06:00

The church at Amargo was a massive adobe affair with twin bell towers, carved wooden doors and several smaller buildings grouped around a courtyard.

As they walked up the church steps, the girls noticed some of the women were wearing rebozos, so they pulled out their mantillas and draped them over their hair. Will and Coyote adjusted their hats and bolos. They merged into the crowd passing through the great double doors and paused in the dim foyer to look around. In an alcove, a few people were genuflecting in front of a life-size Virgin Mary, her robes covered in spangles. Upon closer inspection Diana realized the shiny objects were totemic images of houses, horses, limbs, and other symbolic items. She glanced at a nearby child, raising her eyebrows in a silent question.

"Es la virgin de cosas perdidas."

"If I pin a lost thing to her robe, I'll get it back?"

"Quizás. There’s a woman outside selling them, if you want to try."

Diana turned to her friends, her eyes alight. "Let's do it. It can't cost much."

"Since when were you superstitious?"

"I'm not. It's just for fun. Go on and find a pew, if you're not interested. I'll join you in a minute." She went outside, and sure enough, there was a hunched little woman on the sidewalk selling nickel and silver totems from the back of a cart. Diana pushed her way forward. "¿Cuánto?" she asked, pointing to one that caught her eye. They haggled for a minute, then Diana handed her a coin and took the pendant back inside. As she was pinning it to the virgin's robe, a man gave her a knowing smile. "¿Es para coraje o para amor?"

She blushed and ran the tip a finger along the edge of the silver heart. "It's for both.” She crossed herself, got to her feet and went inside the nave, remembering to dabble her fingers in the holy water and cross herself again as she stepped into the gloom.

She looked around, not seeing Will and the others anywhere. Instead she noticed a striking, dark-skinned woman, apparently at her prayers, but with a curiously taut look about her, as if her entire body was a listening device. Diana made her way to the pew, knelt beside her and pulled out her rosary. The woman glanced at her out of the corner of her eye, then drew back, startled. Diana held her breath, unsure if she was welcome.

Libby's brilliant smile reassured her.

Both women folded their hands on the back of the pew in front of them and rested their foreheads on their clasped fingers. "It's good to see you, Diana," Libby whispered. "I've been worried."

"I’m fine."

"Are you sure? I wanted to go see you at the safe house, but the timing was so bad, with the new commander. . .”

"I know. Diana didn’t care to revisit those particular memories. "What is Alexander like? I've heard good things."

"He's smart and very fair-minded. You'll see. He's anxious to meet you and Will."

There was something in her voice Diana wasn't sure she liked. "There's nothing interesting about us. We just do our job."

"You're too modest." She looked up and gave a little jerk of her head. "Pos, mira. Look who's here."

Diana did as she was told. The man's red hair had lost some of its brilliance and he moved without the restless energy she remembered, but she would have recognized Strecker anywhere. Flanked by guards in black uniforms, he moved with an aura of easy command, walking in procession to a reserved pew at the front of the church. "Who does he think he's kidding?" Diana whispered.

"Everyone says he's a sincere believer."

"What kind of religion says it's okay to kill innocent people six days a week and beg forgiveness on the seventh? Bastard."

Libby nudged her. "Silencio. Aquellas damas in front of us are saying something."

They bowed their heads again, rosaries clasped in their fingers as they strained to hear the ladies in the other pew sharing vague hints about the upcoming conference.

Diana closed her eyes. She was trying to tease out the meaning of their words when her concentration was broken by the scuff of a man's boots on the stone floor. She looked up, the lace of her mantilla falling away from her face. Robert stood over her, returning her startled gaze. She knew she should say something, but there were too many thoughts crowding her brain. Flustered, she crossed herself and turned away. Clutching her rosary, she lowered her head again. For what seemed a long time, she felt his eyes upon her, but didn't dare look up. If he kept staring at her like this she would surely faint.

At last she sensed, more than heard him kneel at Libby's side. The two exchanged a few whispers. Then he stood up and his footsteps went away. Diana took a deep shuddering breath, as if she had finally been given permission to breathe.

Libby scooted closer. "If you hear anything worth reporting, tell me and I'll let Robert know."

Diana blinked. "Is that what he told you? Is he not man enough to take a report from me directly?"

"I know." She patted Diana's arm, then returned to her attitude of prayer.

"I wasn't planning on reporting to him, anyway. I'll report to my own people, just as I had planned."

"You do that." A scuffle of feet made her raise her head and look around. "Get up, dear. They're about to start."

Nineteen

2007-08-17T23:39:00.002-06:00

The next morning, Diana rose early and dressed herself by the dim light of a tallow candle. She brushed out her hair and re-braided it, threading it with a black ribbon. Then she coiled and pinned it at the nape of her neck. She leaned into the mirror and examined her reflection. Even in the candle's warm glow, the stark hairstyle and black dress made her eyes look too big, her skin too pale. She wished Amalia had left her some makeup. Surely Macy would have some, though. Nothing unnatural—just a touch of color to counter all this black.

She went to the bed, where Will was still sleeping. There was something boyish about his features in these unguarded moments that reminded her of those first years together on the reservation, when they were still children. She missed that softness in him. It was still there on the inside, but he almost never let it show any more when he was awake. A wave of affection washed through her and for a moment she forgot the burden of being married and only remembered the closeness they had always shared.

She put a hand on his shoulder. "Wake up."

He opened his eyes. "You sure look grown up and serious."

"Spy mission at the church today. Remember?"

He sat up and ran his fingers through his hair. "Yeah, I remember. I guess I better get dressed."

"I'll be in Macy and Coyote's room. Meet me there." She hurried out the door before he could invent a reason for her to stay.

When she got to her friends’ room, she tapped on the door. Getting no response, she gave it a shove. The lock appeared to be broken, but something was preventing it from swinging inward. She tapped again. "Macy!"

There was a giggle and a squeak of old bed springs, then the sound of something being dragged away. Macy pulled the door open and greeted her with an abashed smile, her hair frazzled and unkempt, her black dress rumpled. "Sorry about that. We had a chair against it, since it wouldn't stay closed."

"Couldn't have people wandering in just any old time," Coyote added. He was lying in a tangled mess of blankets, decently covered from the waist down but Diana suspected he wasn't wearing anything underneath. No wonder Macy looked the way she did.

"I came to see if I could borrow some makeup. I look like a ghost in all this black."

"I think you look interesting," Coyote said. "Beautiful and mysterious, you know."

"I don't think that's the look we're trying for."

Macy shrugged. "With your coloring and bone structure, you can't help it." Seeing Diana frown, she added, "But yeah, you can use my makeup, and maybe you can help me with my hair. It's not doing anything for me this morning."

"That would be my fault," Coyote remarked.

"Maybe you ought to think about getting ready, too," Macy told him.

In the bathroom, Diana combed out Macy's hair, twisted it up and pinned it in place. Then Macy rouged Diana's cheeks and dabbed on a bit of lipstick, powdering it matte so it would look natural. "What a hassle," Diana muttered. "I can't imagine why women used to do this every day."

They were still fussing over each other in front of the bathroom mirror when there was a knock on the door. Grumbling, Coyote wrapped himself in a blanket and went to answer. "Welcome to the new Unitas headquarters."

"Did you bring breakfast?" Macy called.

"No, just looking for my wife."

"We're almost ready," Diana said, "But you might want to see if you can get your friend to hurry up."

Will glanced at Coyote and shrugged. "We guys don't take long. But you two sure look pretty."

"We're supposed to," Macy said. "We hear they take church seriously in Amargo." She pulled a triangle of lace out of her pocket. "We've even got mantillas, just in case."

"And rosaries," Diana added. "I'm still trying to figure out what to do with mine, but at least I've got all the responses to the mass memorized. My poor Lutheran mother is probably spinning in her grave."

"I don't know why people get so excited over religion," Coyote said, lying back down. "Isn't it all the same God? Is he really that hung up on what words you use to talk to him, and what you're wearing on your head?"

"Apparently so." Macy draped her mantilla over her hair and folded her hands. "What do you think? Do I look pious?"

Coyote gave a wicked grin. "Yeah. You sure we got to leave now? All this prim and proper stuff is giving me ideas."

Macy took off the mantilla and swatted him with it, then squealed as he yanked her onto the bed where they tussled like a pair of frisky puppies. And yes, Coyote was indeed naked under the blanket.

Diana looked at Will, not sure if she should laugh or be embarrassed. "I think maybe we should leave so someone can get dressed."

Macy tossed a blanket across Coyote's hips and scrambled to her feet. "Yeah, we've got to get on the road or we'll be late for mass."

"Can't keep God waiting," Coyote agreed, launching himself out of bed.

Macy came over to Diana and ducked her head. "Do you mind fixing my hair again?"

"It doesn't look so bad. It's just one piece that fell out." She adjusted a few pins. "There." She took hold of Macy's wrist. "Now let's go, before your crazy boyfriend tries anything else."

Eighteen

2007-08-15T23:36:00.000-06:00

They camped that night in the ruins of an old motel on the outskirts of a tumbledown village so small it was unworthy of a name.

They unloaded their donkeys in what was left of the crumbled parking lot and tethered the animals in a field of Russian thistle and withered gramma grass. Even though an entire wing of the motel had been reduced to piles of brick and masonry, there were still enough intact rooms for everyone who wanted one. Will and Diana found scorpions and birds' nests in their room, but were more interested in the dusty pictures on the walls. "Here's what we need in this country," Diana said, examining a seascape. "Look at all that water! Where do you think it came from?"

"A flood, maybe?"

"Like Noah and the Ark?" Diana considered. "It looks even bigger than the lake we camped at last year. You think it's a real place?"

Will shrugged. "No telling. If I had paint and knew what to do with it, I suppose I could make a picture of anything, whether it was real or not."

Even more interesting was the bathroom mirror. Diana had avoided the few mirrors at the safe house, and Will hadn't seen his own reflection in years. "I'm taller than I thought," was all he had to say, but Diana examined herself with a critical eye, glad that even though her clothes were tighter, she at least didn't look pregnant yet. She rubbed a patch of grime on the glass, stepped back and frowned. She had put her hair up that morning, but now she took out the pins and let the heavy braid fall down her back. Still not satisfied, she began unbraiding her hair, loosening it until it was a thick chestnut sea around her shoulders.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to make myself pretty."

"Who are you trying to impress?"

She ignored the edge in his voice. "If we're going spying. . ."

Will met her eyes in the mirror. "Don't go getting any ideas."

"You don't have to be jealous if I flirt on a spy mission."

"That's not what I mean, and you know it."

Diana looked away. "We don't even know Robert will be there."

"Of course he will. He's the new guy's right hand man."

"Well, I don't know why you're still so hung up on those couple of times I kissed him." She sat on the edge of the musty bed and tried to re-braid her hair. "I married you. That settles it."

She immediately wished she hadn't said anything because Will pulled her close and began kissing her, which soon led to fumbling with the buttons on her shirt. Annoyed, she pushed him away. "We can't get started with that. It's dinner time."

"Food will still be around later."

"And I'll be around later, too."

"But then you'll be too full from dinner, or one of us will have to go on watch, or you'll be sleepy."

"Don't be mad at me. You act like I tell you no all the time."

"I just wish you enjoyed it more."

Diana tried again to braid her hair. "It’s the baby’s fault,” she lied. “It squishes my insides all up.”

"I wish I could believe that’s all it is."

“What else could it be?”

“You tell me.”

Diana pulled the braid over her shoulder and wrapped the end with a leather cord. “That’s all it is,” she said, knowing he would never understand why making love to him felt like incest. “Haven’t we known each other forever? Don’t you believe me?”

“It’s because I’ve known you so long that I don’t believe you,” Will said, offering her his hand. “But come on. Let’s go see what’s for dinner.”

Seventeen

2007-08-14T23:13:00.001-06:00

Diana walked her mare across the dusty scrubland.

Two months had passed and the desert should have been in full flower of spring, but they had been following a series of dry ravines all morning, with no water in sight. She scrambled her horse out of the arroyo and onto the surrounding hills where she could see into the distance and all around. Up ahead was the ribbon of an old highway, cracked and punctuated with weeds, blown over with dust. This was the road they were looking for.

The boy on the pinto saw it too and nodded. "Es como te dije.”

"Yes, it’s just like you said. This was a good shortcut."

"We go west, now."

"I remember. Let's tell the others we're almost there." She turned her horse, but the boy continued on. "Compass!"

He wheeled his pony and trotted back. "I just wanted to get closer and see if other people were using it, or if there's a good place to camp."

"Scouting is Coyote's job." She headed back the way they had come. "Maybe he'll let you go with him, though."

Compass was a new addition to their unit, an orphan who had tagged along with Boeing, Sachi and Aguilero on their return from Estrella. The boy was only thirteen, but had a knack for finding his way, no matter how confusing the maps or how tricky the terrain. Will and Diana felt protective of him, since they had been his age when they joined Unitas. Sometimes they even let him sleep in their tent and endured the ribbing from their friends about him being their "first child."

A cloud of dust on the horizon caught their attention. "I bet that's Will," Compass said, spurring his horse forward.

Diana chased after him.

When they caught up to Will, they found him covered in dust. "Aren't you a sight," Diana teased.

"Speak for yourself. You look like you've been on chow duty, playing in the flour bin."

"I wish I had been. I could've done a better job than Tiffany. How do you screw up tortillas?" She reined in and looked around. "I don't think I've ever seen it this dry. Water issues are going to be huge at the conference."

"I wonder if it'll make some of these groups a little more willing to negotiate."

"I hope so. We don't need another season like the last one."

"It seems like the fighting gets worse each year," Will agreed.

Compass struggled to hold his impatient mount. "We found the road," he said. "Diana said me and Coyote should check it out."

"He's back there dawdling with Macy. Go on and get him." After the boy left, Will pulled his horse beside Diana's. "I'm worried about all these dead animals."

Diana nodded. They had been coming across the desiccated hides and bones of stray cattle since coming down from the mountains two days ago. "Not enough snow this past winter. There's nothing to feed the rivers, and there's never enough rain in these valleys," Diana said. "When I was a kid, we used to sit outside and watch the storm clouds come over the mesas. When the rain finally came, my grandfather would tell me that water was life. But when the rains don't come, do you just move on?"

"We do."

"Farmers and ranchers can't. Maybe in another hundred years this entire region will be a land of nomads."

"The rains will come back," Will said. "It's just a dry spell."

"Dry spell in a dry land. It doesn't look good to me."

"You talk like a farmer."

"That's what my family raised me to be."

"That doesn't make it your destiny."

"I know, but we can't do this sort of thing forever."

Will glanced at her from under the brim of his hat. "There will be plenty of time to try other things. For now, Unitas needs us."

"But I'm tired of fighting, and I'm sure they'd be fine without us. You said when we got married that we would quit and settle down."

"That was if you wanted to keep your baby. Since you're going to give it up and we have no children of our own yet, we owe it to the group to stay. We owe it to ourselves, too, now that I might get my own command. Anyone who’s an officer when the wars end will have first chance at the good government jobs. This is an investment in our future."

"Maybe the parley will go well and there will be peace sooner than we think. Even if the talks break down, Lone Star and México Lindo will have to pull out if this drought continues. They have thirsty people in their own countries to deal with. That just leaves the little guys, and Unitas can fight them without us. I bet you can get a government job without having ever been an officer."

Will held out his hand. "Do we have to talk about this today? We’re committed to this season, and to killing Strecker. Anything can happen before next spring.”

Sixteen

2007-08-13T23:06:00.001-06:00

Amalia stood uneasily beside her old jenny Cordelia. The animal's cart was loaded with food for the journey and Amalia's few belongings. Sachi and Boeing sat their horses in silence a few feet away, unsure whether to be ashamed or defiant at their temporary banishment. From the corral path Aguilero walked his horse to join them. The road to Estrella was straightforward, but the trail up to the school was tricky and the map Amalia had from Miguel was vague. Aguilero would go with them to make sure they found the place, and that Sachi and Boeing made their way back safely.

One by one the members of the camp came up to Amalia to wish her well. Most of the young people couldn't remember a time before Amalia had been with them. Macy sniffled and swiped at her nose with her sleeve. "We'll go and visit her," Coyote promised. He whispered something in her ear that made her nod and dry her eyes. She flung her arms around Amalia. "You're going to be real happy there."

Amalia held Macy close and stroked her hair while Coyote grinned like he knew a very pleasant secret.

Will and Diana approached last. They had talked with her until the early hours of the morning, and there was little left to say. "You two look after each other," Amalia told them. "Remember you've got a real home now."

Will made a dismissive gesture. "You know we have to get Strecker before we can think about anything like that."

"Yes." Amalia's expression grew distant. "You'll make sure you kill him, for my sister's sake?"

"Diana will do it. For Carina and all of them."

"You know I said I would, Auntie."

"We'll come and tell you about it when it’s over."

Amalia gave Will a hug. "I'd like that." Then she turned to Diana. "I can't think of anything to say that I haven't already."

"I'll be okay."

"Of course you will." Amalia turned away so the children wouldn't see her cry.

Harley pushed his way through the crowd and shook her hand. Like Will and Diana, he had made his personal good-byes earlier. "We'll all miss you," he said. "Unitas thanks you for your service."

"I'll still be serving Unitas. Just a little more comfortably."

"You deserve it. You're always welcome back if you get bored on your mountain."

"You'll be the first person I look up if I ever get the urge to be a nomad again." She looked again at Will and Diana, but all she said was, "I'll be expecting you." Then she climbed onto the wagon seat and picked up the reins. Boeing, Sachi and Aguilero filed in around her without a backward glance, and they soon disappeared around a bend.

Harley stood with Will and Diana, staring at the empty road. "If you'd like to sit out today's training, I understand."

"What do you think?" Will asked, taking her hand.

Diana shook her head in confusion.

"I think we'll skip this morning, but you can expect us in the afternoon,” Will said.

"Diana, what do you say?" Harley asked. "Your husband doesn't speak for you in military matters."

"He doesn't speak for me ever,” she said, lifting her chin. “We'll be there this afternoon."

Will put an arm around Diana's waist. "Would you like to go back to our tent now?"

"Can I come too?" Macy asked, taking Diana's hand and lacing her fingers through hers. "Maybe you can help me write a letter."

In spite of herself, Diana smiled. "She only just left."

"Oh, I write so bad that by the time I finish it, she'll have been there a month." Tears began rolling down her cheeks. "If I miss her this much already, how can you stand it?"

Coyote sighed in exasperation. "I already told you how happy she's going to be." Will ignored him and led the sniffling girls up the path. "Fine. If we're all going to be depressed, I'll at least go get us some coffee."

Fifteen

2007-08-12T23:53:00.003-06:00

That night Harley surprised Amalia by showing up unannounced at her tent.

"You know, as many times as I've visited you, this is the first time you've come to see me," Amalia said, setting aside her Shakespeare.

"You've never been alone before.”

"Well, it looks like I am now." Her eyes took in the bare tent, too big for just one person. "I've been trying to think what I should do with all this space. I could get more books and make a library, or add extra camp stools and start a literary salon." She ran her fingers through her hair and gave a wan smile. "I never expected to lose both my kids at once like this."

"You've hardly lost them. They've become independent, like all kids do."

"I wish I could stop some of the others from being so mean to them. I'm not worried about Will, but Diana has enough to deal with without all that."

"She's expecting, isn't she?"

Amalia nodded.

"Damn it." He sat down on the edge of her bedroll. "That's the only problem I have with female soldiers. They're talented, dedicated and a lot easier to manage than men, but sooner or later, they always turn up pregnant."

"She won't be keeping it, for whatever that's worth.”

"But I can still expect her to be out for anywhere from a few months to a year, depending on when she gets too big to work, and how long it takes her to get back into fighting condition." He paused to tally the numbers in his mind. "She'll be having that baby in late summer or early fall, which means she'll probably be on camp support starting in June, and useless for anything else before next spring." Catching the look on Amalia's face, he added, "I know she do this on purpose, but I still have to figure out how to manage my command."

She crawled into his lap and rested her head on his chest. "I'm sorry my children are so much trouble."

"That's what I came to talk to you about. Will and Diana are a pretty serious distraction."

Amalia pulled away and frowned. "Are you suggesting they leave?"

"No. They haven't done anything wrong and they've been good about not reacting, even though it's getting to the point where I wouldn't blame them if they did." He looked at his hands. "It's really just two people causing all the trouble and I think if I can remove them from the situation, things will settle down."

"Boeing and Sachi. But they're two of your best and we’re short as it is. You can't get rid of them. Do you have a short-term mission in mind?"

"Sort of." Harley shifted uncomfortably. "I was thinking you'll need bodyguards if you're going to Estrella."

"What?" She moved away from him. "Are you suggesting what I think you are?"

"You know you were planning on going eventually. Why not now?"

"Diana needs me."

"Like it or not, she's a married woman. Let her and Will figure out their problems like any other married couple."

"Plenty of married people rely on their family."

"Unitas is their family, and Estrella isn't the ends of the earth."

"But they're so young."

Harley sighed in exasperation. "Quit kidding yourself. They kill people for a living. They still have a lot to learn, but they're grown up. You're doing them no favors by hanging around nagging them and trying to fix their problems."

"You want me to go now, before we’ve killed Strecker?"

"Why not? I'll send Boeing and Sachi as your guards, which will give Will and Diana a chance to reestablish themselves and prepare for the mission. Sachi and Boeing are giving them nothing but trouble and the best thing you can do for the assassination plan is remove their influence."

Amalia mulled this over, toying with a button on her shirt.

"Besides, Diana probably won't want to have her baby in camp. If you're in Estrella, she'll have a home she can go to." When Amalia hesitated, he added, "If it doesn't work out, come back next spring. Or anytime you like." He pulled her close. "I'll miss you."

She put her arms around him. "You were making me wonder."

"You don't have to wonder about that, but this is a good opportunity for you. You deserve a real home."

"When would you want me to go?"

"Day after tomorrow?"

She shook her head in dismay. "Diana only just got back, and I—"

"—will enjoy the letters she writes you." Harley met her eyes. "You're doing this for her. Get Sachi and Boeing out of here before there's real trouble. Set up a home for Diana to go to in the fall." He kissed her. "And don't forget me, okay?"

Fourteen

2007-08-11T00:42:00.002-06:00

Diana knew she and Will were in trouble when they showed up for target practice. It wasn't anything in particular that tipped her off, just a certain hostility in the air and the way Sachi glared and Boeing smirked. There were noises and jostling whenever she or Will tried to take aim, and if they missed their target, Sachi was sure to make a catty remark and Boeing would laugh. Diana bit her lip and prayed for patience, knowing that appealing to Harley or responding in kind would make things worse.

Coyote had no such compunctions and staged a counter-protest, dropping things, making loud remarks and misfiring his gun while Sachi was taking her turn at the target. Dell followed suit, Ikea took Sachi's side and before they had finished their second round, there was so much noise, shoving and name-calling that Harley broke it up.

"You will all be quiet and respectful," he said, looking at each of the perpetrators in turn.

They finished target practice in an uneasy truce and broke for lunch.

That afternoon was riding practice, and Diana thought for sure no one would harass her here, but Sachi deliberately dropped things on the course and Boeing slowed so Will couldn't maintain proper speed for the jumps. Relay practice was a disaster with catcalls and purposefully dropped batons. Will got cut off and nearly lost control of his mount, and Sachi "accidentally" hit Diana's mare with the baton, sending her bolting toward the tree line. Coyote ran his horse up against Boeing's mare and looped his leg around Boeing's in an effort to unseat him.

Harley called a halt to the proceedings. "We are a unit, and you will quit acting like children. What you do in practice, you'll take into enemy territory. If you can't count on each other in the face of the enemy, you might as well go be farmers."

"Diana was doing pretty good at that until Will brought her back," Sachi grumbled.

Harley turned on her. "You can quit instigating some of this." He looked around, daring anyone else to speak. "Put your horses up, go to your tents and stay there. Dinner will be brought to you. No socializing. Tomorrow, if any of you still don't want to act like grownups, take your horse, load up your gear and go. There will be no more of this kind of behavior."

Thirteen

2007-08-10T23:39:00.002-06:00

At breakfast everyone was too curious about Boeing's swollen and blackening eye to notice that Diana was only picking at her food. Uncharacteristically, Boeing had no convoluted story about what had happened and only muttered something about a low branch in the dark. Coyote, all innocence, offered to go into the woods with a hatchet and cut a few tree limbs. Sachi fussed about sympathetically, darting the occasional look at Will to see if he noticed.

Will was more concerned with helping Diana hide her nausea. Seeing that she was able to nibble a tortilla with no ill effects, he gave her an extra one of his. Finally Diana stood up, mumbling something about having eaten enough, and began walking back toward their tent. After motioning for Will to stay put, Amalia went after her.

Will helped himself to more coffee, trying to ignore the way Sachi was looking at him.

"That wife of yours going to be at practice this morning?" she asked.

"I expect she will."

"Has she been practicing?"

"I don't know."

Sachi turned to Boeing. "I bet she hasn't."

"We'll see," Boeing said.

"Maybe she's good enough she don't need much practice," Coyote offered.

"There's no such thing. You've got to practice to be any good." She turned to Will. "Isn't that right?"

"Practice is important," he agreed, getting to his feet. "If you don’t got any natural talent." He walked away, leaving Sachi staring after him in annoyance.

He found Diana in Amalia's tent, sipping a straw-colored liquid from a tin cup. "Ginger," Amalia explained. "It settles the stomach."

"You feeling a little better?"

Diana shrugged. "I guess so. I don't know if I can drink all of this, though."

"Just do your best," Amalia said. "Your body will tell you how much you need."

"How long before I quit feeling this way?"

"It should pass in another few minutes or so. How long did the nausea last the other times?"

"That's not what I meant."

"Oh." Amalia shook her head. "I think you'll stop getting sick in another few weeks, but maybe you should ask Macy or Cascabel. I could get the midwife, if you want."

"No." Diana set the cup down and looked from Amalia to Will. "I'm sure she knows her business, but I don't want everyone knowing about this. Not yet. I'm not ready."

Will took her hand. "We won't tell anyone until you think we should."

Amalia agreed. "That woman in town is such a gossip, we should keep her out of this if we can."

"The girls might brutal when they find out," Will said.

"I don't think they'd be extra hard on her. If anything, it might settle them down a bit."

"That's just what I don't want," Diana said. She reached for the cup and took another sip. "I'd rather they hate me than pity me."

"They don't hate you." Will patted her hand.

"Sachi seems to."

Will looked away. "She asked if you would be at practice this morning."

Diana studied him. "I'm ready."

Twelve

2007-08-09T23:34:00.002-06:00

Diana slipped out of Will's arms and dressed herself in the dark. She picked up her rifle, ammunition and lantern on her way out, pausing outside the tent to admire the clear black sky, punctuated by moon and stars. The silent tents all around made her glad to be the only one up so early. It was like being the only person in the world.

She headed toward the practice range. It was almost dawn and the sun would be coming up by the time she had her target ready. The dim light would make for good practice in case the conditions for the assassination were less than ideal.

There was a thick patch of woods between the campsite and the training fields and as the trees closed in around her, Diana felt her shoulders tighten and sweat trickle down her back. She switched on her lantern, but it didn't help. This fear was deeper, more primal than mere lack of light. There were watches posted, she reminded herself. No strangers could approach their camp unseen. There were no raiders here. Still the irrational fear lingered, making her start at shadows and at the ordinary sounds of rabbits, raccoons and skittering mice. She was relieved when the trail made a jog to the left and opened onto a moon-washed meadow.

At far edge of the field, some hay bales had been set up, and nearby, a wooden crate contained hammers, pins, and different types of targets. She selected one she thought she would be able to see in the dim light of early morning, tamped in the long stakes to attach it to a bale, then stepped back and considered. It would do. She went looking for the lines Harley had cut in the ground to mark the distances. At the first demarcation, she examined her rifle, made sure the silencer was set properly, then took aim, bracing for the kick.

At her first shot, the rifle jerked and hit her in the collarbone. It was as if she had never fired a gun before. There was no point in looking to see if she had hit her target. Pathetic. She tried again, willing herself to concentrate, but again her shot went wide. This was ridiculous. She had fired guns since she was a kid, hunting game with her grandfather near their rancho.

She was thinking too much, letting her ego get involved, and the empty field with dark woods all around spooked her. Why had she though it was a good idea to go wandering alone in the dark? Had the past few months taught her nothing? Annoyed, she fired again and this time it felt more natural. She only hit the outer rim, but at least she had found her target.

She was taking aim and preparing to fire again when a bullet whined past her ear and embedded itself near the bulls-eye. She spun about and aimed at the intruder. Then slowly, she lowered her weapon. "Aren't you supposed to be on watch? You could've at least said something."

Boeing walked over in his casual way. "It was a boring watch until you showed up. From your work so far, it didn't look like scaring you would put me in any danger."

A wave of anger and adrenaline washed through her. Before she could give herself time to doubt, she turned back to the target, snapped the rifle to her shoulder and fired three times in rapid succession. She did it on instinct and memory, like hunting rabbits, and hit the center ring all three times. "I just needed to get warmed up."

He looked at her coolly. "Come a few feet back and do that." He raised his own rifle and demonstrated.

Diana followed suit and hit the center ring.

"Not bad for a girl, but I bet you can't do it from another twenty feet."

With Boeing mocking and goading her all the way, Diana went through the full range of distances, sometimes hitting only the outer ring, but firing more consistently toward the center each time as the sun came up and the gun began to feel familiar again. By the time she stood at the outermost range, she was nearly drunk with self-satisfaction. She picked off her last shot and turned to Boeing with a confidence she hadn't felt in months. "Still not bad for a girl?"

His eyes confirmed her skill, but his words mocked her. "Not bad at all. . . for a married woman."

Diana scowled and began walking toward the target. "I don’t know what that's got to do with it."

Boeing ran after her. "Why didn't you bring your husband with you?"

"I don't need to go everywhere with him."

He was at her elbow now, matching her stride. "Tell me, is it any fun, fucking your brother?"

Diana stopped and stared. "You are such an asshole, you know that?"

"If you ain't too prissy to do it, you shouldn't be too prissy to talk about it. You're always welcome in my tent, if you get bored with your brother."

Diana shook her head in disgust and began walking again. "Even if I wasn't married, you'd be the last person I'd ever go to bed with."

Boeing laughed. "Why do you take everything I say so seriously?" He bent over the target and joined her in inspecting the bullet holes. "You know I like to talk."

"Talk to Sachi, then. Isn't she your girl of the moment?"

"She's a tease. She just wants to make your man jealous."

"Good luck to her."

"So you don't care?"

"Why should I?" She dug in the crate for something to pry the long pins out of the target so she could put it away.

"You want to try another target? There's a better one than this, if you're practicing for the sniper mission."

Diana glanced at the brightening sky. "I guess there's time for one more round before breakfast."

Boeing rummaged through the crate and handed her a strange target, smaller than the one she had been using, patched several times over and painted with colored patterns and swirls. "It's designed to fool your eyes," he explained. "It's the one we practiced with for the Don Fernando assassination. If you can hit this, you can hit anything."

Diana placed the target, wondering if there was a motive behind Boeing's apparent helpfulness. She stepped back and took a look. Yes, this one would be tricky. She picked up her rifle and began walking back to the lines, Boeing at her heels.

They spent the next half hour in serious practice, unencumbered by conversation, except for Boeing's occasional word of advice or approval. By the time they were at the farthest distance, straining to make out the bull's eye in the growing light, Diana had almost forgotten his earlier remarks, so she was surprised when he leaned in close and said, "There's nothing sexier than a pretty girl who's good with a gun."

She drew back in annoyance. "I should've known you couldn't be nice for long." She lowered her rifle and began walking toward the target. It was time for breakfast, anyway.

"What do you expect," he said, catching up with her. "A guy can't help wondering about a girl who'll do her own brother."

"He's not my brother, and you know it."

"That's not what you've said all these years."

"Well, it's what I'm saying now."

"Still doesn't sound like much fun."

"I'll be the judge of that."

"But you've got nothing to compare it to." He grabbed her braid.

Memories hit her like a wall of water. Suddenly she was back on the forest path, lost and surrounded. In a panic she swung at Boeing with her empty rifle. They struggled for a moment, then he wrenched the gun from her hands and threw it on the ground. He grabbed her by the shoulders, his fingers digging into her flesh. "What's the matter with you? I'm not going to hurt you."

He kissed her roughly. It wasn't the way Will kissed her or the way Robert had at the Varamendi house. For a moment she was too shocked to react. Then Boeing let her go. "That was all I wanted. Was that so terrible?" He picked up her rifle and handed it to her. With a laugh, he started walking toward camp.

Diana stood for a moment, her knees weak and her mind reeling. She ran after him. "Why are you messing with me?"

"Because I can."

"Well, stop it."

He quit walking. "Come a little closer and tell me that."

"I can tell you from right here."

He took a step closer and put his hands on her shoulders, but this time his touch was gentler. "Want to tell me now?"

The sharp report of a rifle made Boeing and Diana jump away from each other as a bullet flew past them and buried itself in the bull’s eye.

"How'd I do?" Coyote called, loping up to them.

"Great," Boeing said, unable to mask the annoyance in his voice.

Coyote looked from one face to the other. "Definitely my favorite target," he said, looking significantly at Boeing. "So how come you're down here and not on watch?"

"Nothing was happening on watch, and it looked like she could use some pointers."

Coyote slung his rifle onto his back and pulled out his hunting knife. The blade caught the morning sun as he passed it from hand to hand. "That doesn't sound likely. Diana's always been a good shot."

"I got off to a bad start."

"You got it now, though, right?"

She nodded.

Coyote looked at Boeing. "See you later."

Boeing shrugged and walked away.

Coyote sheathed his knife. "You probably shouldn't do this sort of thing alone any more."

Diana nodded. "I just needed to make sure I wouldn't embarrass myself in front of everyone."

"And are you embarrassed?"

She ducked her head.

"Come on." He took her arm and they began walking back to camp. "He has trouble understanding when it's not a joke any more, not to mention he can't keep his mouth shut."

"He wouldn't tell Will, would he?"

"I'm sure he'll want to put some version of this story around. Don't worry, though. I don't think he'll actually do it." They were on the edge of the path through the woods. On the other side was the hill back to camp. "You okay to walk the rest of the way alone?"

"Sure."

"Go on, then. I'll fix it for you. I still owe you for saving my girl's life." Then he ran up the path, leaving Diana staring after him.

Eleven

2007-08-08T23:41:00.001-06:00

It was dark by the time the three of them finished talking with Harley and began walking up the hill to their tents. Will and Coyote discussed the finer points of strategy, but Diana only half-listened. They had learned that Strecker was in Amargo, a large town at a rail junction. Just what this signified, since Strecker usually stayed on the move, was anyone's guess. But with an important parley coming up, it didn't look good.

Diana wondered if she should have agreed to be on the assassination team. She had only a few weeks in which to train, and her skills would need to be in top form. It might be a tall order. She would have to sneak out to the target range and do a little practice on her own, to see where she stood. If her skills were too rusty. . .

She pulled herself back from that line of thought. If she wasn't ready, she would just have to work harder. She couldn't let everything that had happened over the past three months keep her from avenging the deaths of her family members.

"So what do you think?" Will asked.

She hadn't been listening. "Sure, I guess."

"We'll see you later," he told Coyote. Then he took her by the arm and led her in a different direction.

Diana guessed where they were going. "You think Auntie is going to lecture us?"

"She already got me this afternoon. Hopefully she's worked it out of her system."

"Well, she hasn't had her chance at me, and I'm sure she's got plenty to say."

"You might be surprised. But don't worry. I'm not leaving you alone unless you tell me it's okay."

They found Amalia reading her Bible by the light of a solar lantern. The tent looked too big without their bedrolls and their shoes, clothes and weapons scattered about. The familiar sight of Amalia with a book on her lap overwhelmed Diana with memories of more innocent times. Why couldn’t it be as it had been before? She longed for Will to just be her brother so they could lie near each other and fall asleep to Amalia's voice reading something incomprehensible.

Diana was prepared for anything after the way Amalia had reacted that morning, but was relieved when she merely closed the book and set it aside. She remarked on how late it was and asked if they had come for their things.

Will nodded. "It's probably time we had some clean clothes." He eyed the duffel bags against the wall of the tent.

"Well, go on and take them," Amalia said. But when Diana reached for a bag, she stopped her. "Let Will do that. Come and talk to me for a few minutes." When Diana hesitated, she added, "It's all right. I'm not mad at you."

Diana nodded slightly at Will and sat down. She and Amalia waited until he had gone before either spoke.

"You weren't at dinner tonight," Diana said, reaching for the most immediate and banal topic she could think of.

"I wasn't up for it. Was it awful?"

"The food or the company?"

Amalia nodded. "I think that answers my question."

"I don't know why some of them have to be so mean about it. We've done nothing wrong."

"Technically, no. But when two people marry in secret, away from all their friends, and after expressing an interest in other people. . ."

"Will never showed an interest in anyone else."

"Sachi had quite a flirtation with him while you were away." Seeing the perplexed look on her face, Amalia added, "And then there was this past winter, when you let Robert think—

"I knew you'd have to bring that up."

"Okay. That's not really what I wanted to talk to you about, anyway." She stood up and went over to one of her bags. She rummaged around for a moment and returned with a bottle of whiskey and two tin cups. The look on Diana's face made her pause. "It can't be news to you that I have a bottle here. Or are you just surprised that I'm sharing?" She poured a measure of whiskey and handed it to her. "Being married makes you one of the grownups, and that means special privileges, if you don't abuse them." But before Diana could take a sip, she added, "Don't drink that, though, if you have plans for your baby."

Diana paused, staring at her over the rim of the cup. Then she took a hard swallow and waited until she felt the alcohol burning in her stomach before answering. "The only plan I have is to give it away or smother it when it's born." She watched Amalia carefully, daring her to argue.

Amalia sipped her whiskey. "I can't say I condone killing babies. Surely you can adopt it out."

Diana took another drink. "I'd rather be raped again than carry this dirty parasite inside me. Macy got rid of Boeing’s baby with a knitting needle. Do you think maybe if I was real careful—

"You're not serious, are you?" Amalia set down her cup. "That's a good way to bleed to death."

"I don't care." But at the look on Amalia's face, Diana's shoulders slumped and she shook her head. "No, I'm not serious. It's a tempting idea, but I don't have that kind of courage."

"You mean that kind of stupidity."

"Courage, stupidity. . . sometimes they look an awful lot alike."

"You're right about that." She picked up her cup again. "You know, I wish you hadn't rushed into this with Will so quickly. You hurt Robert."

Diana shot back the rest of her whiskey and reached for the bottle, ignoring the look of concern on Amalia's face. "Don’t be ridiculous. He doesn’t care about me.”

"He arranged the safe house for you.”

“That was his job. It’s not like he wrote to me or anything.”

“You didn’t write to him, either. And he’s been sick.”

"Looked healthy enough to me this morning."

"Maybe if you hadn't been so hateful to him—

"He had to have known I didn't mean it. He just doesn't want me after what the raiders did to me."

"I'm pretty sure that's not true, Diana." Amalia looked at her in concern. "I think he was afraid you would push him away again. He always did say he was a coward."

"Well, I’ve got no use for cowards."

"I suppose not." They sipped their whiskey in silence for a little while. "So tell me just one thing," Amalia finally said. "Did you ever really love him?"

Diana looked at her in wonderment, then started to cry. "I still do."

Amalia held out her arms. "You’re one confused kid, you know that?" She pulled Diana close and rocked her. "What am I going to do with you?"

"How about you just read to me like you used to?"

When Will came in a little while later to collect the rest of their things, he found Diana curled up with her head in Amalia's lap, while Amalia read to her from Shakespeare.

Ten

2007-08-07T23:38:00.001-06:00

It took all of Diana's courage to get through dinner. Although Tiffany, Ikea and Cascabel had visited her tent that afternoon and admired her wedding gifts, she had a feeling they had only come to get information for the rumor mill.

Only Macy, Dell and Juniper seemed sincerely glad she was back, but what particularly hurt was Sachi's defection. Her words were polite, but instead of settling in by her side at dinner like she always had, she flounced over to Boeing, who was being outright hateful, trying to rouse some interest in incest jokes.

At least the older members of the group had manners. Diana found herself tempted to sit with Paloma and Galileo, as much for their protection as for the new affinity she felt for the adults. She was younger than many of her friends, but marriage and a baby on the way had already changed her in ways she hadn't anticipated.

Macy passed her a plate of venison. "Harley must be glad you're back. This is the first fresh meat we’ve had in awhile."

"There's potatoes, too," Will observed. "We were running low when I left."

"Sputnik had some sent up day before yesterday," Ikea said, looking at Diana.

Sachi overheard. "Too bad he decided to leave. We'll miss the way he always arranged good food for us."

Diana looked at her plate and feigned absorption in her meal. She knew Robert had left that afternoon, and she also knew why. She didn't need anybody goading her about it. Will put a hand on her back and she forced herself to eat. There was nothing wrong with the food, but for some reason everything tasted like wood.

Sensing her discomfort, Will looked at Harley. "What's the latest on the mission to kill Strecker?"

"We're thinking maybe at the end of next month."

"Seems like a long way away."

"Well, by the time we move camp and get you snipers up to speed. . ."

"I'm ready," Boeing said. "I can do it tomorrow."

"You're not on this team," Harley said. "It'll be Will, Coyote and Diana."

"Why her? You've never sent her on this type of mission before."

"The man killed her family," Harley said. "She has the skill, so unless she says she doesn't want to go, she has dibs."

“I guess that makes sense, since we know how she likes to keep everything in the family."

Harley glared at him. "One more remark like that and you can eat someplace else."

"All I said was how important her family was to her." Boeing looked around the circle with innocent eyes. Sachi giggled and he tugged one of her braids.

"At least she has people who care," Will said. "Maybe you should ask your girlfriend in town what that's like. But she dumped you, didn't she? Sorry."

"There's other pretty girls, and I don't see your mother here tonight, so what's all this about your loving family? Or is loving part of the problem?"

"Shut up, Boeing!" Diana said.

He grinned at her like a well-fed cat. "Sorry I said anything. See you at target practice in the morning?"

"Will you be the target?"

Harley got to his feet. "Enough!" He looked at Boeing. "I meant what I said. Go."

Boeing stood and casually stretched his arms overhead. "Okay. I was done eating, anyway, unless there's wedding cake for dessert."

Will stood up too, and took a step toward him, but Boeing laughed, looking from Will to Harley and back again, with no trace of animosity. "Folks sure do get touchy when a guy makes a few jokes."

"It would help if they were funny."

"It's not my fault your sense of humor is impaired." He offered Sachi his hand. "Sachi thinks my jokes are funny."

Sachi darted a nervous glance at Will, then accepted Boeing's hand and got to her feet. With a toss of her head, she let him lead her into the darkness outside the ring of the campfire's light.

"Anyone else got anything to say?" Harley asked. Getting nothing but silence and a few shakes of the head, he turned to Will, Diana and Coyote. "You three stay after dinner so we can talk. We need to coordinate training and strategy."

Nine

2007-08-06T23:35:00.001-06:00

That afternoon, Amalia went to talk to Diana, but when she found her reluctantly showing her bridal gifts to some of the other girls, she sought out Will instead. She located him at the corral, where he greeted her with polite words and a note of defiance in his eyes.

"I don't know where to start with you," she said.

"Maybe you shouldn't, then."

"If you two wanted to get married, you could've at least told me."

"Why? So you could tell us not to? I'm not stupid, Mother."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that."

"If you came out here just to insult me-"

Amalia looked at her feet. "Okay. I'm doing this badly. How about we go for a walk and talk things over like grownups?"

They left the corral and started down one of the trails that led into the forest.

It was cool among the trees and Amalia shivered. Will took off his jacket and put it around her shoulders.

"So tell me what ever possessed you to marry her. Or better yet, since I know the answer to that one, tell me why you think she agreed to it."

"She loves me."

Amalia stopped in a patch of sunlight and closed her eyes. "Has it occurred to you to wonder why a girl who expressed no prior romantic interest in you would marry you three months after being raped in the woods?"

Will’s cheeks and ears flushed red. "I don't know why we’re talking about this."

"She's pregnant, isn't she?" Not getting an answer, she went on. "You offered to take care of her and she married you because she was scared. Isn't that what really happened?"

"We love each other. There's nothing else that needs to be said."

"Oh yes, there is. You took advantage. Don’t try to walk away! Look at me!"

Will stopped, but the face he turned on her was closed and defiant. "I didn't take advantage. I offered to help and she accepted."

"You didn't have to marry her to help her. You heard Robert was thinking of going out there to see her, and you were going to get her any way you could."

"Stop it, Mother. I haven't made her do anything. Ask her yourself if you don't believe me."

"She's not in her right mind."

"Like you know a goddamn thing about her mind. You didn't ride out there to see her. You hardly wrote at all. You haven't done a thing since abandoning her at that goat farm. But you have the nerve to criticize me?" He wrenched his arm out of her grasp and began walking again.

Amalia hurried to catch up. "I just know—"

"You know nothing. In fact, you want to know what I think?"

"I'm dying of curiosity."

Will ignored her sarcasm. "I think you're mad that your plan for her to marry your precious intellectual Robert fell through. You can't stand the idea that she'd marry someone like me with no book learning and no fancy relatives living off their hoarded gold in an inbred village somewhere."

"It might surprise you that I discouraged that relationship at first. But yes, I did end up hoping it would work out. She really did like him."

"But she married me. So that solves that."

"I guess it does.” She made him stop again. "I just worry that you've done something stupid and you're going to get hurt."

"I’m not a little kid any more, Mother. It's not your job to keep me from getting hurt."

"I know. It's just— well, I suppose you'll understand when you have kids of your own. Have you and Diana decided what you're going to do about the baby?"

"We'll do whatever she wants to do," he said, as if it were obvious. "She says she doesn't want it, and that's fine with me."

"I guess I better talk to her."

"You're not going to talk her into keeping it, are you?"

Amalia shook her head. "It’s not my decision to make. But I'm curious what you would do if she changed her mind."

"I'd help her raise it."

"Even though it's not yours?"

"It's hers. If she wants it, that's good enough for me."

"That's a lot more than many men would do," Amalia admitted. "I hope she appreciates how much you love her, Will."

Eight

2007-08-05T23:32:00.002-06:00

They set out into the cold spring dawn and arrived at base camp as everyone was finishing breakfast. Ikea noticed them first and jumped up, spilling her coffee. With a happy shriek, she ran down the path. "You're back!"

The other girls left the warmth of the campfire and gathered around Diana's horse. Tiffany held the bridle while she dismounted. For a moment everyone stared at her, unsure what to do next, then Coyote pushed through the crowd and solved the problem by throwing his arms around Diana's waist, nearly squeezing the breath out of her. "I'm glad you came back.”

"It's good to see you."

He stepped back, startled. "Really?" He grinned and waved Macy over from where she had been standing outside the circle, leaning on Robert's cane. "My girlfriend missed you."

Diana gave Macy a cautious hug. "I’m glad you're doing better. I was worried about you."

"Don't be silly. No one ever worries about me."

Before Diana could answer, the other girls closed in, touching her, hugging her and asking questions without waiting for answers. Their casual comments said nothing and implied everything as they scanned her face for clues to the meaning of her return. Diana answered everyone, her head up and her eyes scanning the group for the only people she needed and dreaded to see.

And then she saw them— Amalia hurrying from the mines, trailed by Harley and Robert. Diana felt Will put his arm around her waist, a move which raised a few eyebrows among their friends and which made Sachi narrow her eyes in suspicion.

But before anyone could figure out the meaning of this behavior, Amalia pushed through the group and drew Diana to her. "We were worried about you." She took a step back and sized her up. "The guard came two days ago and said you'd left the safe house. But when you didn't show up. . ." she turned to Will with a puzzled frown. "Where were you? Surely you didn't get lost. Did a horse go lame?"

"No, Mother. We stopped to get married."

She stared as if he had spoken in some language she had known long ago and had to think about. The sudden silence of the group confirmed she had heard him correctly and she turned to Diana, who lifted her chin. "Well," Amalia said coolly, "I suppose after you finish saying hello to your friends you'll want to get your things from my tent. Will can show you where it is." She walked away, leaving Diana staring after her.

She didn't have time to think because Robert came up to her. Although he still walked with a limp, two months of training had left him tan and strong. She had never seen him look so handsome and felt suddenly ill. She lowered her eyes, wishing she could disappear into the earth and be spared this moment.

With the cold, formal manner of a diplomat, Robert shook Will's hand, then Diana's. All he said was, "Congratulations," but the note of contempt in his voice was unmistakable and it sapped nearly all of Diana’s remaining courage.

The next few minutes passed in a blur of hugs, hand-shaking and congratulations. Some of it was sincere, some sarcastic. Harley expressed the hope that they wouldn't be distracted from training. Coyote wore a puzzled look and Sachi seemed angry for no reason Diana could see. Boeing laughed as if the whole matter were a joke. Diana bore it all stoically, trying to project an air of confidence, but was relieved when Will announced they were going to look for a place to pitch their tent.

Coyote and Macy were eager to help, and Dell and Juniper offered to lead their horses. They started up the path to the field where everyone was camping in the open air now that the weather was warmer.

"You sure have a lot of stuff on these horses," Dell said, holding onto Flecha’s bridle.

"Wedding presents."

"From who?"

"The people in the town where we got married," Will said. "They were real nice to us."

"Why didn't you come here and get married where your friends are?" Juniper asked.

Dell silenced her with a look.

They got to the campground and at Coyote's insistence, selected a spot near his tent. "We'll be neighbors. Go inside my tent and rest," he told Diana.

She shook her head, but Will overruled her. Macy led Diana into the small tent and they sat on bedrolls while the men worked. "Are you okay?" Macy asked, noticing Diana's pale, clammy skin.

"Why wouldn’t I be?”

"You just look like you’re not feeling so good. Do you wish you were back at the safe house?"

"Here's as good as anywhere. I'm no coward who has to live on a goat farm because she's ashamed to face her friends."

Macy looked at her curiously. "We don’t think the worse of you over what happened, and everyone knows you’re not responsible for the song."

“Song?”

"The one they’re singing in town, about La Bella Diana, killer of raiders and rapists. You’ve become a sort of folk hero." At the look of consternation on Diana’s face, she added, "But that’s good. You’ve got a reputation. Now you have Will to protect you, too."

"I suppose they'll add that to their little song— that I’m an incestuous slut who married her brother." She buried her face in her hands. "I don't know why I let him talk me into this."

"Into what? Everyone knows Will isn’t really your brother. And who cares what people think, anyway? When you love someone—"

“But I don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“I don’t. . .” Diana looked into Macy’s trusting eyes and couldn’t get out the rest of the words.

Seven

2007-08-04T23:19:00.001-06:00

It was nearly noon before they left Adelaide. So many people came to see them off and wish them well that it felt like a conspiracy to keep them from ever leaving. But finally they were on the road, their horses laden with gifts as diverse as batteries, silverware, a quilt, a box of garden seeds, a book of poetry, a small solar lamp and a pair of china cups packed in straw in a sturdy wooden box.

They camped for the night near a creek and enjoyed a feast of baked goods from the villagers of Adelaide.

Then they sat up late drinking tea out of their new cups, admiring the bright expanse of stars overhead. They invented new constellations like they had as children, and made wishes on falling stars. They speculated on what type of world it might be in the heavens, and whether it was really any better, or if it had just as many problems as their own.

"Auntie says it's cold up there," Diana said, shivering against the cool spring night. "I don't think I'd like it, no matter how pretty it might be."

"It looks too clean," Will added. "You need a little dirt to make the good things look good."

They were up early the next morning but although they made good time, by late afternoon they had to make a decision. "We can get there tonight," Will said, "But it will mean covering the last five miles or so in the dark."

"Let's stay out here one more night," Diana said.

"It’s been awhile. They might be worried."

"Do you care?"

"Not really."

"Good," Diana sighed. "I can wait another day."

They camped near a brook and the next morning Diana rose early to pack her gear and load her horse. Will offered to make a hot breakfast, but she was sick to her stomach and nibbled a stale biscuit instead as she went about her work.

What would they think when she returned to camp, married to Will, of all people? If she was defensive, people would know why she did it and despise her for it. She would have to be sure of herself like she used to be, or at least fake it. She would also have to start training right away, preferably alone until she knew to what degree her skills had deteriorated. She had to live up to her end of the bargain and shoot Strecker. Then she could quit forever and Will would take her someplace where she could have the peace she craved.

Will came over while she checked her packs one last time. "Looks like there's hardly room for you up there."

"It's the same amount of stuff as yesterday. But I'm glad we're not traveling very far. It's boring to go at an old lady's pace with all this gear."

"So when we get there, we aren’t going to keep this a secret, are we?"

"Of course not. We’ll be on our own soon, anyway, and it won’t matter what anyone thinks of us then."

"That's right." He gave her a kiss. "And in the meantime, if anyone gives you a hard time, you tell me about it. No one’s going to disrespect my wife.”

Six

2007-08-03T23:42:00.003-06:00

Diana was startled to awaken in a strange room with the morning sunlight filtering through the drapes. The bed was comfortable and Will was near, which made things all right, but-

With a rush, everything came back to her. She had married him yesterday and last night he had—

Fighting an urge to bolt, she tried to collect her thoughts. Her stirrings woke him up and he pulled her close without a word, caressing her breasts and belly, then running a warm hand along the curve of a hip.

She stiffened, not ready for anything like this again so soon. Of course she wanted to do her duty by him, but this was too much. She was grateful to hear a tap at the door and the single word, "Breakfast."

Will raised himself on an elbow and looked at the door, puzzled. "They brought us something to eat?"

"That was nice of them," Diana said. "I think I smell coffee." She draped a blanket around herself and went to investigate. Sure enough, someone had left a coffee pot outside their door next to a tray covered in a clean dish towel. She set everything by the bed and looked under the cloth. "This is a lot of food. They must think we're really hungry."

"I worked up an appetite last night. Didn’t you?"

She blushed and handed him a plate. "Eat, then. There's preserves and extra bread things, too."

Will looked at the omelet, slices of fried potato, and fancy biscuit in the shape of a half-moon. "We're going to have to do something nice for these people. They don't even know who we are, and they’re treating us like kin."

Diana nodded. "It's too bad we don't have anything we can offer them, unless they've got enemies that need killing."

"They're not important enough to have enemies, or I'd be glad to do it." He chewed a slice of potato thoughtfully. "Maybe we'll derail another train and there will be some goods we can send this way."

"Seems like they already have most of what they need." Diana tore open a biscuit, marveling at its flaky layers. "I wonder if they’d like a bridge. Didn't you and Coyote. . .?"

"Well, yeah, but the creek here runs pretty shallow. Maybe we could come back sometime and help them fix up their houses. I'm sure it can't be easy to keep up with repairs. We'll find a way to pay these people back. I'll find a way to give you nice things, too."

"I don't want fancy things, just a peaceful life and useful work."

He took her hand. "After we kill Strecker, I’m going to find a way so you don’t have to work."

Diana pulled her hand away. "We've always been equals. If that's changed, maybe we should get a divorce and forget yesterday ever happened."

"If you have a baby. . ."

"I already told you I'm not raising a rapist's child. I'll give it away, and if no one will take it, I'll kill it." She scanned Will's face for a reaction.

"That's up to you," he shrugged. "Anything you want to do, I won't let anyone take issue with you about it."

Diana pushed the potatoes around her plate and sighed. "Why are you doing this, Will? You deserve someone brave and competent, someone who hasn’t been—"

"None of what happened makes you any different."

"How can you say that? I feel contaminated."

"I know."

"You say that, but you don't know, really."

"I don't know what it's like to be pregnant, but I do know what it's like to be raped."

Diana sat back, startled.

"It was a long time ago, when I was a kid. It’s not the sort of thing I tell people about because I don’t want anyone feeling sorry for me. It’s in the past, and the only thing that matters is now."

She wanted to say something consoling, but the look in his eyes brought her up short. "So did you feel dirty afterward? Like it was all your fault and there was something wrong with you?"

"At first. But living on the street, I met so many kids who'd had even worse things happen to them that after awhile I figured I didn’t have any right to feel sorry for myself."

"You say that like it's easy."

"I don't mean to. Bad things happen to everyone, and it doesn’t have anything to do with who you are on the inside. You’ve got to quit letting those bastards win."

Diana pushed her plate away and lay back among the pillows, frowning.

"What are you doing?"

"Thinking."

"What about?" He moved their breakfast dishes off the bed and lay down beside her. "When I help you out of a tight spot in a fight that's okay, but when the battle is in your head, you won't accept any help at all. How much sense does that make?"

"This is different."

"No, it’s not. You're trying to drive me crazy, aren't you?"

Five

2007-08-02T23:32:00.003-06:00

Reverend Bickle prefaced the ceremony with so many homilies on love that by the time Will was allowed to kiss his bride, it was late in the afternoon and Diana was sullen with impatience. She forced a smile as the guests came up to congratulate her. So many strangers hugged her, kissed her and squeezed her hand that she was grateful when they allowed her to finally sit down and rest.

By now some of the villagers had set a table with food, and while Will fixed her a plate, someone pressed a glass of local wine into her hand. She sucked it down greedily, hoping it would steady her nerves.

As the sun set, lamps were lit and furniture moved out of the way. A man brought out a guitar and strummed a few opening bars. By now Diana was tipsy, but she dutifully got to her feet for a first dance with Will. “They’re determined to make this just like a real wedding, aren’t they?”

“Isn’t it a real wedding? Don’t tell me you’re just playing along.”

“You know what I mean. At least no one made you give me a ring. I hate jewelry.”

“I bet if there was a gold or silver ring left in this town, they would’ve tried to give it to us. They must have melted them down during the resource wars. With everything else they’ve done for us though, I’d have thought someone would’ve rushed home to whittle one out of wood.”

Diana smiled at the absurd notion. “I do like you, Will.”

“You’re my wife. You’re supposed to love me.”

“I love you, then.”

“That doesn’t sound convincing."

“I’m tired and I’ve had too much to drink. Do you think they’ll let us rest soon? Where are we staying?”

“Mayor’s house, I think.”

“Are we that important?”

“First wedding in nearly a decade.”

While Diana pondered this, the song ended and the guitarist started another. Linnie placed a basket on the floor and a man tossed in a silver coin. He motioned Will aside and took Diana in his arms. "I believe this is my dance."

As the evening wore on, all the men, even the preacher, tossed coins in the basket and claimed a dance with the bride. By the time the music ended and a buggy arrived, they had a nice collection of silver, in addition to two baskets of impromptu wedding gifts. Diana hardly knew what to make of it all, but tolerated Will's insistence on carrying her over the threshold of the mayor's house and into the room that had been prepared for them. He deposited her on the bed where she watched the village women bring in her gifts and what was left of the cake and wine. “To keep your strength up tonight,” one of them teased. Diana looked away in consternation.

When they were finally alone, they stared at each other. Will looked away first, took off his jacket and hung it in the closet. "This isn’t what I expected when we came into town this morning."

Diana took the wilting flower from her hair, examined it and set it aside. “Me, either. I guess I shouldn't be surprised. My whole life isn’t what I expected, and the strangest thing is that I keep expecting anything at all.”

“Did you hear what some of these people were saying? There’s a lot of places where no one lives any more. They’ll give us a house and land if we want it. They like us and they need young people. So after we kill Strecker, if you want—”

“I’ll think about it.”

“We’d be independent.”

“I said I’d think about it.”

“Okay, then.” He stood and closed the drapes.

When he turned around, Diana was struggling to undo the metal hooks down the back of her dress. He came over to help, but only managed two before putting his arms around her and pulling her close. “I love you so much. I wish—”

At the touch of his hand on her breast, Diana stiffened and pulled away. She tried to push her sleeve back onto her shoulder, but it slipped again and she gave up. She finished unhooking the dress herself.

“I’m sorry. I meant what I said before. I know you're probably not ready yet, and that's okay.”

“No, I've been thinking. I want to do right by you, so if you want. . . ”

“Not if you don’t want it. I can wait.” He took off his shirt and draped it across the back of a chair, then sat on the edge of the bed to pull off his boots.

Diana let the dress fall to the floor in a puddle and lay down in her shift. “You've been good to me, Will. I want to make you happy.”

"You’ve already made me happy." He leaned across the bed and kissed her. "Go to sleep." He turned off the lamp and lay beside her, but after a few minutes he moved away and sat up.

"What's the matter?"

"I don't know who I'm kidding. I can't sleep with you like this."

"You have before."

"I know, but it's different now. I'll sleep on the floor or something."

"Don't be ridiculous. I didn't marry you to make you sleep on the floor. You're still my best friend."

"You don't make love to your best friend."

"Married people can't be friends? Then why did we bother?"

"You know what I mean." Will lay down again and closed his eyes.

Diana stared into the darkness, wrestling with the temptation to take him at his word and go to sleep. But she had already steeled herself for this moment. If she couldn’t convince him to make love to her tonight, she would dread tomorrow and each night after, seizing on any excuse to keep him as a brother and not a husband. No good could come of that, now that she had gone this far.

She hardly knew where to begin. If only she felt for Will what she felt for Robert! At a loss, she rested her head on his chest and was surprised to hear his heart racing. What could he be so afraid of? She gathered her courage and sought his lips in the darkness.

Four

2007-08-01T23:25:00.001-06:00

They camped that night in the last dirty dregs of snow outside Adelaide, and in the morning, Diana awoke with her mind made up. She had made a promise and she would keep it. It wasn’t as if she had other options. The fact she was in this fix was proof she couldn’t manage on her own. Will was her best friend. It couldn’t be so hard to be his wife, could it?

They rode into the village, searching for someone who would marry them. Will asked the first townsperson they saw where he could find a judge or a preacher.

“You want to get married here, in our town?” the wizened little man asked.

“If that’s okay.”

“Well, sure it’s okay. It’s just we don’t have any young people around here since the resource wars. You’ll be our first wedding in. . .” He counted on his fingers. “At least eight years.” He grinned. “You go on to the Reverend Bickle’s house and he’ll take care of you. Turn left at the next street and it’ll be third from the end on the left. Green tiles on the roof. Can’t miss it.”

“We're not very religious,” Will said. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“You Christian?”

“My mother used read to me from the Bible.”

“That’ll probably be close enough.” He looked at Diana. “What about you, pretty lady?”

“My family was Lutheran.”

“That’s good.” The man chuckled. “Of course, Bickle would probably not much care if you worshipped trees, it’s been so long since he’s married anyone.”

They found the preacher’s house without any trouble and Bickle agreed to marry them that afternoon. His wife, Linnie took one look at Diana’s muddy boots and stained canvas pants, and pronounced her unfit to be a bride. “Come with me,” she said. “I’ll get you fixed up proper.” Before Diana could protest, she hustled her into a bedroom where she loaned her a pale yellow dress. “You can’t get married looking like you just wandered in from milking the cows.”

“He’s used to seeing me this way.”

“And does he marry you every day?” The woman brushed out Diana’s hair and pinned it in a pile on top of her head, decorating it with a flower from a vase at her bedside. Then she dug a yellow ribbon out of a dresser drawer, tied it in a bow on Diana’s wrist, and stepped back to admire her work.

By the time she led Diana back into the living room, a few neighbors had gathered, rounded up by the man they had encountered when they first came into town. They were a cheerful, decrepit lot, and they milled about, arguing over whose children, nieces or grandchildren had been the last ones married in town, and what had become of them.

When Diana saw the crowd that had gathered, she approached Will in confusion. Someone had loaned him a suit and a clean shirt, and his boots were freshly polished.

“What’s all this about?” she asked.

“I guess they don’t get much excitement around here.”

“They came just for this?”

“They’re nice folks. They just want to make it more like a proper wedding. They brought presents and they’re going to fix us dinner afterwards.”

Diana looked at the smiling villagers in dismay. “We don’t even know them.”

“Does it matter?”

“I guess not.” She glanced at the preacher, who was flipping through his Bible. Diana resisted the urge to rub her sweaty hands on her skirt. “Let’s just get this over with."

“Are you sure this is what you want? You don’t sound happy.”

Diana forced a smile. “I’m just overwhelmed. This is happening awfully fast, and I didn’t expect anyone to make such a fuss.”

Will took her hand. “Everyone likes weddings.”

Three

2007-07-31T22:30:00.001-06:00

Will slept in Diana's room and in the morning she sat up in bed and tried to think. It was nice to have him near again. She hadn't realized how much she had missed him. But marry him? Something wasn’t right about that, but what were her options? The baby would start to show before long, and she was ashamed to ask Unitas or even Amalia for help. Will offered a solution. He would look out for her, just as he always had.

At breakfast, Diana put on a show of being eager to leave. Rebecca was unconvinced, but didn't press the matter. "I'll need to send a message," she said. "What would you like me to say?"

Diana toyed with her food. She felt sick and wasn't sure if it was because of the baby or the whole crazy situation. She wondered again why Robert hadn't written. He must have suspected why she lingered so long. It was just as well that Will had come, because who else would have her? "Say that I left with Will and we're headed back to camp. That will be enough."

After breakfast Rebecca packed some food for them. When he saw it, Will smiled. "That looks like enough to get us to New York City."

"Perhaps you'll want to go on a honeymoon."

Diana blushed. "I think we're going straight back to camp to start training, not make a holiday of this."

They got the food loaded onto the horses and Rebecca followed them to the gate. Diana sniffled and the older woman patted her and murmured comforting words. "You'll always be welcome, dear. Come back anytime."

Diana mounted her horse and took one final look at the cozy house with its front yard in full bloom of spring, birds flitting at the feeders, and chimes making music in the breeze. "I miss this place already."

They waved good-bye to Rebecca and headed down the mountain path.

Diana was silent at first, slumped in her saddle and occasionally dabbing at her eyes, but by mid-morning, she started to look around, taking in the rocks, evergreens, hawks and squirrels as they traveled down cool forest trails and across meadows of pink and white flowers. "It's a nice day to be out riding," she said. "I'd forgotten how much I missed it."

At noon they had lunch by a brook of burbling snowmelt. Diana tossed crumbs to a chipmunk and smiled when a jay swooped down and stole them. "Too slow," she said, tossing the chipmunk a few more.

She watched him stuff his cheek pockets, then turned to Will. "Isn't that a funny way to carry your food around? What if we did that?" She made a face, puffing out her cheeks.

This was so much like the Diana that Will was used to that his shoulders slumped in relief. "I think our dinner would be pretty soggy by the time we made it to our next camp."

"Not to mention there's not enough room." She turned back to the chipmunk. "You poor dumb thing. You need a saddlebag. And a horse." The chipmunk looked at her with bright black eyes, flicked his tail and was gone.

When they got back on their horses, Will took a different fork in the path.

"Is this a new shortcut you've learned?" Diana asked. "I don't remember this being the way we came."

"There's a village near here called Adelaide. I thought we'd go there first. We'll spend the night and continue on tomorrow or the next day."

"Oh." After a few moments she added, "Are you going to tell me why?"

"We're going to get married."

"Out here? Right now?" Diana fought down a sudden sense of panic. "Don't we want Auntie to be at our wedding? And our friends?"

"I don't want us to get married in Ferrous Springs. Things are too negative there."

"We'll make arrangements to marry someplace else. We're breaking camp soon anyway, aren't we? We could get married at the next place we camp."

"We're getting married tomorrow in Adelaide. If you want to have a party when we get back, go ahead."

"But why—"

"Either you're marrying me or you're not. Which is it?"

"What difference does it make whether it's tomorrow, next week or next month?"

"Exactly. It'll be tomorrow, then."

"But—"

"Are you afraid?"

Diana tossed her head. "Of course not."

Will pulled his horse closer, his knee almost touching hers. "I know it hasn't been very long. I'll understand if you don't want to sleep with me right away."

In spite of all evidence to the contrary, Diana had been clinging to the hope that this would be a marriage of convenience. Now she tightened her hands on the reins. "I can't believe we're having this conversation. I've spent half my life calling you my brother. How am I supposed to. . ." She shook her head. Was it too late to change her mind? Would he hate her if she did? Where else would she turn if Will abandoned her? Needing time to sort out her thoughts, she kicked her horse into a canter and moved down the path ahead of him.

Two

2007-07-30T22:59:00.001-06:00

That afternoon Will tracked Diana to the pasture, where he found her in a pink dress, her hair loose down her back as she wandered among the goats.

When she made no move to come to him, he vaulted the fence and walked toward her. By the time he got to where she stood, she was feigning absorption in the way one of the little goats gnawed a weed.

Without looking up she said, “How long do you plan on staying?”

"I haven't decided."

"There's no need for you to stick around here. I'm not leaving."

"But you have to come back. Lone Star gave us a lead on Strecker. Mother and I confirmed that it's him. We need to train and make plans."

“Right now?” She looked around at the goats and the pasture full of waving grasses and yellow flowers. “It’s spring.”

“So?”

“There’s a lot to do on a farm in spring.”

“And in summer and fall, and. . .come on, Diana. After all these years together on the road, this is what you want? Dresses, chickens and goat cheese?”

Diana turned away with a shrug. “Why not?”

“You’re being ridiculous. Don’t you want to get Strecker?” When she hesitated he added, “Don’t forget he’s the reason we live the way we do. You owe your family this, or have you forgotten already, buried out here on this farm?”

“I haven’t forgotten. It’s just—

He came up behind her and pulled her into his arms. "Are you okay? Is there any reason you think you need to stay here?" He rested a hand on her flat belly. "You can tell me. We've never kept secrets."

Diana ducked her head, too ashamed to speak the words.

“It’s not Sputnik’s, is it?”

"What?" She pulled away from him in confusion. “Robert and I never—”

He caught her hands in his. "Then marry me."

"You’re kidding, right?"

"A woman who is going to have a baby should be married. No one would dare talk about you if you were my wife. After we kill Strecker, we’ll go away somewhere. I’ll take you where there’s peace, and where no one would have to know how this happened."

"You act like I intend to keep this child."

"Then I'll take care of you until you have it, and whatever you decide afterwards is your business. But you won’t have to worry about a thing. I’ll provide for you."

"How would you do that? We don't provide for ourselves now. Unless we're killing or guarding someone, we're nothing."

"We could go back to Valle Redondo. All we need is money to buy seeds, tools and livestock. The land belongs to us."

"I couldn't go back there. Too many memories."

"Mother is talking about teaching school at Miguel's place. We could go with her. I'll find a job and get us a house in town. Wouldn’t that be nice?"

"It’s not that easy. You say you want me to marry you, but you're my brother."

"Stop that. You're no more related to me than to a Pueblo chief."

"But we were raised together. It feels like—"

"Don't you love me?"

"Of course I love you, but not like that."

"Love is love. There aren’t different types of it, like beans."

There was something wrong with Will’s arguments, but Diana’s foggy mind couldn't pin it down. "There's still a chance that my cycle is just late."

"I came here to ask you anyway."

"Then why—"

"Quit asking questions." He held out his hand. "Tell me you'll marry me. I don't care if we raise children or just raise hell. Does it have to be complicated?"

"I guess not."

"Come on then." He grabbed her hand and began pulling her along the path to the house. "I'll help you finish your chores and pack. We'll leave in the morning."

Part Two: Chapter One

2007-07-29T23:37:00.002-06:00

Diana fumbled with the latch to the chicken run. Her cold fingers slipped and she nicked herself, but felt no pain. She touched her tongue to the spot of blood as she pulled the gate open with her other hand and slipped inside. The hens crowded around her feet, pecking at the toes of her shoes. "Don't be silly," she told them. "You act like today is any different from yesterday."

She walked to the low feeding trough, scattering chickens ahead of her, and poured in a mixture of grain and table scraps. As the birds huddled around their breakfast, she patted their smooth, plump bodies. "Better watch it, Missy," she told a particularly fat one. "You're about ready for the frying pan."

While the birds were thus distracted, she went into the hen house, carrying the empty bucket. A few hens sat on their box nests, watching with sharp eyes.

"You know what this is about, don't you? But I'm bigger than you, and I want my breakfast." It struck her that Amalia would have been pleased to hear such a statement from her on the subject of food. Then again, maybe not. It seemed she was hungry all the time, when she wasn't sick to her stomach. She had a horrible suspicion as to why.

"I know," she said as she reached under the belly of a squawking hen. "You want what we all want— to be left in peace. Too bad for you." She pulled out a smooth, warm egg and put it in her bucket. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

She went to the other layers, clucking to them as she gathered the eggs. There weren't very many today, but that was to be expected. Although technically it was spring, the nights were still cold, and the hens wouldn't begin laying in earnest until warmer weather settled in for good.

As she walked the path to the house, she glanced toward the far edge of the paddock. Sometimes she saw a movement among the trees. Her guard. When she had first seen him, she had been annoyed, but Rebecca reassured her. "It's nice of Unitas to do that for you, although it isn't necessary. They’ve never set a guard for anyone else who has stayed here."

Diana knew why Robert had posted the guard and was both comforted and embarrassed that he had gone to the extra expense on her behalf. That the guard was still here nearly three months after her arrival must mean Amalia had told him that she hadn't meant all those harsh words she had said to him. So why hadn't he come to see her, or at least written? She had been so sure he cared.

Diana didn't feel sure of anything anymore. She had slipped into the childhood rhythms of farm life so quickly that it left her disoriented. It had come back too easily— feeding the chickens, milking the goats, making yogurt and cheese, and doing all the simple needful chores that must be done to get through one day and prepare for the next. Although this mountain farm was different from the flat desert rancho of her childhood, the pattern of daily life was the same. After years of nomadic living, she found herself both comforted and confused by it all.

And so she moved through the days in a fog. She did the things that were in front of her to do, without question or prompting. Rebecca's quiet comings and goings wove through Diana's hours, leaving plenty of time for pondering, but thoughts wouldn't come, beyond those associated with the immediate tasks at hand. Every time she tried to push through the barrier that separated the present moment from what she knew couldn't be ignored forever, she came up short. It was too complicated, too tiring, too much to think about. There was only this hour and this moment to get through. Anything more exhausted her. The rest would have to wait, even though she was beginning to sense that time was running out.

On this particular morning, she was startled to return to the kitchen and find Will warming his hands over the stove. He had written several times over the past weeks— short notes that said nothing in particular. None of his letters had said he would come to see her. What was he doing here now? She closed the door and stared. After weeks with no one but dainty Rebecca for company, Will seemed to fill the room, taller, stronger and more commanding than she had remembered him. His cheeks and ears were tinged red with cold and he flexed his fingers, trying to work some feeling back into them. Diana looked around, but Rebecca was nowhere to be seen.

Will gave a tentative smile. "Look at you, farm girl. I guess I should've known you wouldn't spend any time resting and would go straight to work."

Diana set the bucket on the floor. "I had to do something. I couldn't just. . ."

"Couldn't let anyone take care of you, could you?"

She fumbled in her mind, unable to call back the memory of what Will had done that made her reluctant to throw herself into his arms like she used to. She was fairly certain it was something he said. . .

"Is this any way to greet a man who rode two days in snowmelt to see you?" He folded her in his arms and Diana leaned into him, resting her head against his chest. His clothes were cold and smelled of spring mud, and his wool sweater was scratchy against her cheek, but he was comfortable and solid, like a tree. Her body melted into his out of long habit and she felt his fingers trace the braid between her shoulder blades. "I've missed you," he said.

She pulled away, remembering now why her first impulse had been toward caution. He had told her he loved her the day he left her here, and he had said it in a tone that suggested more than the ordinary love of a brother for his adoptive sister. She picked up the bucket of eggs. "You must be hungry," she said, walking toward the sink. "I was going to make migas this morning." She washed the eggs and began cracking them into a bowl, avoiding his eyes.

He watched in silence for a moment, then sat at the kitchen table. "That'll be fine. I didn't eat so good on the road."

Diana looked at the breakfast ingredients spread out in front of her, suddenly at a loss. She had laid everything out before she went for the eggs, but now the tortillas and chiles looked unfamiliar and she couldn't for the life of her remember what to do with them. She grabbed the coffee pot and began working the pump handle. "I wish Auntie had come with you. There are things I need to talk to her about."

“I’ve come to take you to her.”

Diana turned around, startled. “Is she not well?”

“She’s fine. It’s just I thought you'd like to go home and be with us again.”

Diana set the coffee to boil and now the rest of the meal made sense. She began heating oil in an iron skillet. "Maybe you should find Rebecca and let her know I'll have breakfast ready soon."

Will left the room. With a sigh of relief, Diana began browning peppers and pieces of stale tortilla. What did he want? How long was he going to stay? He didn't really expect her to go back with him, did he? It was impossible. The thought of those dark, smoky mines and all those people who knew the mistakes she had made, the death she had caused, and the things those men had done to her— the very idea of going back sickened her.

At least here in the mountains with only Rebecca and the animals for company, she had found some measure of peace. She was safe. She could forget. No one expected her to kill, lie, or rescue anyone. No one needed her to be brave. And no one watched her, fussed over her, told her what to do and then plotted and gossiped behind her back.

She poured the eggs into the skillet and began scrambling them with the chiles and tortillas. She wasn't going back. Not now, and maybe not ever.

Fifty Two

2007-07-28T23:15:00.005-06:00

They mounted their horses, the food and strong coffee having barely taken the edge off their exhaustion. Even restless Coyote sagged over his reins as they made their leave and headed toward the mesas.

"So what exactly did Bonham say?" Boeing asked, once they were beyond earshot of the Lone Star camp.

"He tried to make something of it, as we figured he would. I doubt he really gave a damn what happened to his mavericks, but you men gave him an opening, and he was going to try and take it. That's why unless you've got orders, you don't go executing folks without a trial, and you sure as hell don't mutilate the bodies. Right outcome doesn't justify wrong method."

"You've told us that already," Coyote pointed out. "And like we said—

"Enough. I'm too tired to rehash all that. As far as I'm concerned, it's over and forgotten. But if you go pulling something like that again, I don't care what your reasons, you better not plan on coming back to my camp."

"We know," Boeing said irritably.

Aguilero, who had been bringing up the rear, moved closer. "So what happens now? Did we get a promise out of Bonham, or are we going to have to go through this every time they decide they don't want to impose discipline on their people?"

"We got a promise," Harley said. "I wish I could say I had confidence he'll follow through, but I'll pass the word up the chain of command and make sure the subject of mavericks gets taken up when the truce gets renegotiated."

"When will that be?"

"Soon, I hope."

"In other words, you don't know."

"Until we get our upper command structure reconfigured, I don't know much of anything."

They plodded on in silence. It was a sunny morning, but the wind was fierce, blowing dust and dry brush. They pulled kerchiefs across their faces and lowered their hat brims, anxious to reach the shelter of the mesas, where they would lose the direct force of the wind in the twists and turns of the passes.

They were nearing a fork in the trail when they heard pounding hooves. As one they turned to Coyote, who returned their questioning looks with panicked eyes. "You can't expect me to know everything!" Cursing, they wheeled their horses and drew their guns as a group of soldiers galloped toward them across the scrub.

The riders were closing fast and the men had already taken aim when the leader raised a hand and let out a whoop. It was a female voice. The men didn't lower their weapons, but their shoulders relaxed. Lone Star women could be deadly, but they weren't known for treachery. "Hold your fire, boys!" the rider called, with another whoop and a wave of her arm.

"Ellie Mae," Harley muttered. "I wonder what she wants?"

"Maybe she likes you," Will offered. "I told Mother to be nice or she'd lose you to a younger woman."

Ellie Mae, flanked by two lieutenants, swooped into their midst with guns safely holstered. She looked at their drawn weapons. "Put your toys away, boys. We ain't got no quarrel with y'all." She trotted her horse in a circle around them, then stopped in front of Harley as the rest of her riders arrived and lined up in a half-moon behind her.

"To what do we owe the honor?" Harley asked.

Ellie Mae turned to one of her lieutenants and then to Jane, who was trying to steady her skittish mount with her good hand. Then she raised her chin and met Harley’s eyes. "Me and my gals had a little talk about y'all, and we want you to know as a matter of record that we think what Bonham did was wrong. We told him months ago those mavericks was nothing but trouble and should be strung up."

"Damn right," one of the women muttered.

"We feel bad we didn't take matters into our own hands. We should’ve stood by our principles and insisted Bonham follow regulations. What happened to your girls was partly our fault." By now some of the women had bowed their heads, as if they were in church. "Saying we're sorry ain't going to fix nothing." Ellie Mae took a deep breath. "But we owe you. We want you to know that if any of you is ever in a tight spot and we can help. . ."

"Thank you, Miss Ellie Mae," Harley said. "But I'm sure that won't be necessary."

"This is about our honor," she said, straightening in the saddle. "If there's ever a chance we can make it up to you—"

"How about you convince your people to end this stupid war?" Coyote blurted out.

"Be reasonable," Ellie Mae sighed. "Together, we can keep out the United States and Mexico indefinitely. Besides, you'd like being a Texan."

"If I wanted to be a Texan, I'd move there."

Harley waved a hand for silence. "Enough. This isn't the time or place to talk politics."

"That's right," Ellie Mae agreed. "We're here to make you a sincere offer, one that ain't got nothing to do with politics. Our offer stands, no matter what."

"Thank you, Miss Ellie Mae," Harley said again.

"Well." Ellie Mae looked at her women. "I think that was it, wasn't it?"

Jane spurred her horse forward. "Just the coffee." With a shy smile, she handed Will a cloth bag of freshly ground beans. "You're a real good shot," she said. "And a good medic, too." She touched her hat brim and rejoined the group.

"Have a safe trip, gentlemen.” Ellie Mae pulled off her hat and waved it in farewell. Her ladies did the same. Then they kicked their horses' flanks and trotted off in a cloud of desert dust.

The men watched them in bemusement. "That was totally unexpected."

"Who'd have thought?"

"Looks like we got our very own Guardian Rangers."

"How come I didn't manage to get laid out of this deal?"

"Shut up, Boeing."

"You can have some of my coffee, if it will make you feel any better."

"I told you Jane liked you."

"Right." Will tried to fit the coffee into this saddle bag. "Anyone else want to give me a hard time about it?" He looked at Harley. "How far to our next camp?"

Harley looked up at the sky, gauging the position of the sun. "If we hurry, we can make camp part way up these mesas and take a siesta. And my maps show a camping spot that we should be able to make by sunset."

"When will we be back at the mines?"

"If we keep talking like this, never."

END OF PART ONE

Fifty One

2007-07-27T23:37:00.002-06:00

They emerged from the tent an hour later. Ellie Mae came out first, a lithe blonde prematurely aged by hard living, but who still carried herself with the air of a pretty woman who knew her own worth. Then Harley and Will stepped out, stifling smiles. Bonham lumbered out behind them, annoyed. Ellie Mae looked at the Unitas men, still sitting their horses. "You boys got some important riding to do, or are y'all going to join us for breakfast? We don't allow folks to eat on horseback. It ain't good manners."

The young men looked at Harley, who nodded. "We've been invited to stay for breakfast, men. Ellie Mae will have someone see to our horses."

Coyote, Boeing and Aguilero dismounted and Ellie Mae called to Bonham's guard. "Zagolani, have one of my girls put these men's horses where I keep mine." Then she whispered something in the Apache girl's ear that made her eyes widen. She flashed the Unitas men a smile.

With a grim set to his jaw, Bonham led the party to the main campfire, where he introduced them as his guests, then stalked off as if on important business.

"What's he so mad about?" Coyote asked.

"He wanted to make an issue of it," Will said. "Ellie Mae trumped him."

The men settled in near the fire and accepted cups of coffee, plates of eggs and camp bread, and slices of dried apples. The Lone Star soldiers eyed them suspiciously, but mumbled appropriate greetings and fell back to eating. After a few minutes, Jane sat down, followed by Ellie Mae holding a steaming mug of coffee. She looked at the men of her unit. "Y'all better show some manners."

"We ain't done nothing," one of them said.

"See that you don't."

"We got a joint mission coming up?"

"Maybe they're petitioning to move to the Hill Country and get away from this damn desert," another said.

A few of the men laughed.

"You don't like the desert, maybe you should go home to Texas," Boeing told him.

Harley silenced Boeing with a look. "We're not here to argue with anyone."

"Then why are you here?" asked a young Vietnamese who had decorated the band of his regulation cowboy hat with dragons.

Ellie Mae glanced at Harley before answering. "Those mavericks we kicked out attacked some of their women."

There were murmurs of disapproval, but one man said, "So what? We can't do nothing about it. Once they're out, they're unaffiliated. We don't have no control over them."

"We're asking that you keep truce by not turning them loose around here," Harley said. "Execute them, send them home under guard, we don't care. Just don't go adding to the number of unaffiliated troublemakers we already have to deal with."

"You don't see us sending our mavericks to Texas to rape your women," Coyote added.

Some of the Texans shifted uncomfortably.

"We can't have people thinking Texans don't stand for law and order,” Ellie Mae said. "Otherwise we'll be fighting them forever."

"Seems like we're going to be, anyway," one man said.

"If you're tired of fighting, we’re not your problem," Will said. "We'll stop anytime you and the other groups want to."

"Unitas only wants free and fair elections," Harley added. "Make enough people want to be Texans, and we'll be fighting for you, not against you."

"No," said a sullen young Texan of indeterminate race. "It was one of your local leaders who invited us here in the first place. There's too many groups fighting, and no one is in charge. It’s going to go on forever, elections or no elections."

"Especially if the elections keep getting disrupted."

"Like what happened in Amargo? That guy Strecker takes no prisoners."

Will had been blowing steam off his coffee and now his head snapped up. "Strecker? Did I hear you right?"

"Guy's a total sadist. One of the drug lords brought him in from God knows where to oversee a supposedly free election. Strecker had some of the opposition candidate’s campaign workers kidnapped the night before the voting and strung them up on the plaza. Next morning, the drug lord won in a landslide. Big surprise."

"I know about Strecker's methods," Will said. "My family's been looking for him for a long time." He looked at Harley. "We need to talk about this."

Harley nodded, but indicated with a motion of his hand that they would say no more for now. He got to his feet and stretched. "Miss Ellie Mae, we thank you for your hospitality. But it's time we were back on the road."

Previous Entry

Fifty

2007-07-26T23:00:00.001-06:00

The sun cast a soft glow across the desert when the Lone Star women led the Unitas men into their camp. A few of the Texans reached for their weapons, but Jane shook her head and they made no move to fire. Instead they fell in around them in a loose formation that was equal parts capture and honor guard.

"This is a peaceful parley," Harley said. "We're here to see Bonham and Ellie Mae."

While one man went in search of their leaders, a tall blond man parked himself near Harley. "Y'all ain't messed with our girls, have you?"

"They didn't lay a hand on us," Jane said.

The Lone Star men murmured their approval and the man who had first spoken gave Harley a faint nod. Behind him, Boeing caught the look and recognized him from the party in San Eusebio. "We don't hurt women," he said in a voice loud enough that all the nearby soldiers would hear.

"That's good, 'cause we don't tolerate no disrespect, either."

Jane led them to a large social campfire and sent her companions to unload their goods so the camp supporters could prepare breakfast. "Tell them we'll be feeding five more," she told the dark-haired girl, who smiled slyly at Boeing as she removed the panniers from her horse and headed toward the chow crew.

Jane twisted around in her saddle. "If you want to dismount," she told Harley, "I can arrange for your horses to be looked after."

Harley cast a glance toward their embedded man, a question in his eyes.

"Me and my friends would be happy to put them up for you," he said, with a small negative shake of the head.

"No, thank you," Harley said. "We'll wait."

It took several minutes, but finally a small entourage of soldiers approached from the other side of the camp. "Bonham says he'll see you," one of them said, reaching for the bridle of Harley's horse.

"You don't need to grab on. I requested this meeting, so I'm not going anywhere."

Chastened, the young man dropped his hand.

He led them through the campground, where men and women, young and old, paused at their work or in the middle of their sleepy, early-morning conversations to stare. Although most of them were white, there were a few blacks and Vietnamese, as well as several Hispanics who could have been Tex-Mex or native Southwestern turncoats. It was growing harder with each passing year to separate loyalties from ethnicity. Allegiances shifted. Friendships and even romances flourished across group lines. It was the sort of chaos that gave groups like Unitas hope.

Harley's men were surprised to find a stern young woman with obviously Apache features guarding Bonham's tent. Will greeted her in Apache, but got only a puzzled frown in reply. He couldn't tell if it meant she didn't speak the language, didn't understand his dialect, or was simply too surprised to return his greeting. Instead, she stepped aside, pulled open the tent flap and the Texan guide went in alone. A few seconds later, he reemerged. "Two of you can go in," he said. "Unarmed."

Harley swung off his horse and motioned for Will to do the same. They removed their weapons and handed everything to Boeing and Aguilero. Just before they went inside, Harley turned to Coyote.

"What do you think?"

Coyote had been looking around, tipping his head from side to side like a small dog. "They're not talking," he said. "But I think it's clear."

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Forty Nine

2007-07-25T23:28:00.005-06:00

The men huddled in their jackets as they rode through the cold desert night. The sky was clear and the moon illuminated their path in a wash of pale light. With the mesas close by and dawn still several hours away, there was no need to hurry, so they made their way down the broken remains of an asphalt highway, barely noticing the stunted winter weeds and dry scrub along the side of the road. All around them the desert was alive with coyotes ranging for food while mice and rabbits rustled in the scrub.

Will kept close to the flank of Coyote's horse. He hadn’t been able to sleep, so he was glad to be on the road, but the silent valley disturbed him. He had never liked the flatlands where he felt exposed, his every move watched by the sky and the nameless hulks of the mountains.

It was almost dawn and they were starting up into the mesas when Coyote reined in.

"What is it?" Harley asked.

He indicated the bend in the trail with a jerk of his head. "Three of them."

Harley didn't bother to ask what he meant. He motioned his men off the trail, into a stand of mesquite. After a few minutes they heard the quiet clop of hooves. They waited until the riders were almost upon them, then kicked their horses forward.

The lead rider, a sturdy brunette with cropped hair and a hardened look to her features, pulled a semiautomatic.

"Put that away," Will said. "We don't hurt women if they don't hurt us first."

She made to lower her gun, but as the other men rushed her companions, she aimed again, this time with a glint in her eyes that meant business. Annoyed, Will whipped out his pistol and shot the gun from her hand. Her mare started, rearing and twisting in the air. Harley reached for the bridle as she came back down, and Will lurched forward and caught the reins.

The girl flung a look over her shoulder at her companions, both of them young female soldiers like herself. She turned back to Will and Harley with panicked eyes. "What do you want?"

"We want to know who you are, who you're with, and what you're doing in this area," Harley said.

"My name is Jane, and we're not with anyone. We live near here."

"Right," Boeing sneered. He was holding the bridle of a pinto laden with bundles and panniers. The rider was a black-haired girl with pale skin and an arrogant tilt to her head. "Just out for a casual morning ride in the dark, aren't you?"

"Why not?" she asked archly. "Aren't you?"

"About as casual as yours."

Seeing that Will had a tight grip on Jane's horse, Harley jumped to the ground. "Come here so I can talk to you."

Jane's eyes widened and she shook her head.

"Are you going to make me pull you off that horse?"

She glanced again at her companions. "Are your men going to leave my girls alone?"

"Unless they ask us not to," Boeing said.

"Shut up with the cute remarks," Harley told him. "You're scaring these ladies." Then to Jane he said, "This isn't what you think. Now get down off that horse."

She dismounted, holding one of her hands in an awkward way. Harley motioned for Aguilero to help him pat her down for weapons, then led her up the path to talk. The girls who remained watched the young men nervously. "What do y'all want?" one of them asked.

"We're on a mission," Boeing said.

"Who are you with? Or are you with anyone at all?"

"It's okay. We're affiliated."

"Why’d you stop us? We're no one."

"Quit acting dumb," Coyote said. "You're with Lone Star.”

"What if we are? We're still not important."

"You are to us. We went to the trouble of capturing you, didn't we?"

"If you don’t want to rape us or rob us, I don't know why you bothered. We ain't got no information."

"What would we get if we robbed you?" Boeing asked, eyeing the panniers.

"Not much. Just apples, cornmeal and some eggs. And coffee."

"Coffee?" Coyote craned his neck to get a better look at the panniers.

“No,” Will told him. “We can't just take it. They've given us no real trouble."

"Maybe you want to share?" Boeing asked.

The black-haired girl tossed her head. "Why would we want to share with you?"

"Because I'm good-looking?"

Both young women found this remark so startling that they surprised everyone, even themselves, by laughing.

They were wheedling in earnest when Harley called to them. "Don't turn this into a party, men. Will, come here, would you?"

Will walked his horse to where Harley and Jane sat in a clearing behind some acequias.

"I'm afraid one of Miss Jane’s fingers is broken," Harley explained. "You're the nearest thing we've got to a doctor."

Will crouched beside her and took Jane's hand in his, then pulled out his flashlight to get a better look. "I think it’s just dislocated. I can set it for you right now, if you like. He gave the flashlight to Harley and felt each of the joints more carefully. "It will hurt."

"It already hurts. I’m not afraid."

Will moved her injured finger back and forth, checking its range of motion. "I would hate to make you wait to get back to your medic for something like this. You do have a medic, right? We have one of our own back at camp, of course—" with a twist of his wrist, he snapped Jane's finger back in place. Unprepared, she yelped and tried to pull away, but Will had her arm in a firm grip. "It's okay," he said. He cupped her hand between his own and turned to Harley. "See anything around here we could use for a splint?"

While Harley searched for a branch that could be split flat, Will used his knife to cut a strip off the tail of his shirt. "Too bad there's no snow," he said. "That joint will swell up on you and hurt worse than it has to. But I'll wrap it tight, which ought to help a little, and maybe your medic will be able to do more for you when you get back to camp."

Jane submitted to Will's doctoring, watching his face with an odd light in her eyes. When the three of them rejoined the others they found a fire burning and a pot of coffee brewing. "Look who's consorting with the enemy," Jane said.

"Speak for yourself," the brunette said with a sniff. "You're the one holding hands with one of them."

Jane pulled her bandaged hand out of Will's grasp. "Break up this little party you're having and get ready to go. These men need to speak to Bonham, and we're going to lead them there."

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Forty-Eight

2007-07-24T22:27:00.001-06:00

The men left at dawn, heading east with the rising sun, then turning north around mid-morning and starting down a series of switchbacks. Aguilero brooded over Pepsi, Will worried about Diana, Coyote chafed at being separated from Macy, and Boeing thought their errand pointless. "What do they care what we did to their mavericks? They're probably glad we executed the bastards."

"And we're going to make it clear that it shouldn't have been our job to do it," Harley said.

They stopped for lunch at a dilapidated picnic spot on a ledge overlooking the valley, then continued on, reaching the valley floor by evening, where they made camp at an old gas station.

Coyote sniffed one of the graffiti-covered pumps with delight. "Diesel! Isn't that a great smell? Makes you think of money, doesn't it?"

"It's also toxic," Harley reminded him. "Don't let the horses graze too close to here. Our campfire will be in that field, not anywhere you see concrete. Those fumes come from tanks underground that might still ignite."

While Coyote marveled over the hydraulic lifts in the service bay, Will tended the horses and the other men cleared a spot for a fire and brought in mesquite, creosote, and scraps of old signs to burn. With no women to impress, they didn't bother with a hot meal, feasting on pemmican and piñon nuts before setting a watch schedule and turning in.

In the morning, they headed out again, this time tracking across the dry scrubland of the valley floor. Around noon Aguilero picked up the trail of Bonham's party. "We're about half a day behind them," he said.

Harley consulted his map. "They're not moving as fast as I had thought. That's good." They shifted direction and continued on, this time at a faster pace, hoping to meet up with Bonham before he led his unit into the mesas. At dusk they set up camp inside the crumbling remains of an adobe church.

Will killed and roasted a rabbit, and Harley surprised everyone by passing a flask of whiskey around.

Just past midnight, Coyote shook Harley awake.

"What is it?"

"It's not urgent," he said. "But I think we should try to make the mesas before the sun comes up."

"Why? Is that when Bonham will get there?"

"No. But something good will happen if we get there by sunrise."

"And if we don't?"

"Nothing bad will happen," he said with a shrug. "But we’ll be missing an opportunity."

"Do you know what this opportunity is?"

"No."

Harley got to his feet and looked at the night sky, bright with stars and an almost-full moon. "Okay," he said. "Let's go see what it is you've picked up on this time."

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Forty Seven

2007-07-23T23:23:00.002-06:00

Amalia's confident words didn’t match her feelings. With her nerves near the breaking point, she put on clean clothes, found a freshly charged lantern and sought out Harley.

She found him in his room studying a map and plotting things in pencil. A letter lay open on the table beside him. He looked up when she drew the canvas tarp aside and came to sit beside him. "I've missed you," he said.

"I was only gone a couple days."

"You know what I mean."

"Playing nurse hasn't left much time for other interests."

"That's all right. How's Diana?"

“She was speaking nicely to people and showing some curiosity about her surroundings before we left."

"Seems like a pretty poor thing to consider progress."

"We take what we can get." She looked over his shoulder. "What are you doing? Tracking Bonham?"

"This is our embedded man's latest dispatch. Sputnik said when we find them to make sure we talk to someone called Ellie Mae." He showed Amalia a page of numbers, letters and symbols, with translation between the lines of code. "I'm not so concerned with where Bonham's group is now, as with how to make sure we intercept them at the best possible place for us." He pointed to a spot on the map. "This area would be ideal. Lots of escape routes. They can't possibly cover them all. But our information doesn't indicate they'll come that far. Our next best option," he pointed, "Is over here."

"Can you get there fast enough? It looks close, but that's some rough country. It'll add as much a day or more to your travel time."

"That's why I like you, Amalia."

"Because I've got sense? All this time I thought you liked me for my charm and good looks."

"That too, of course." He kissed her and then returned to poring over his map. "Since you're here, I could use a second opinion. I was thinking of taking my men this way. . ."

They studied the map for half an hour, puzzling over routes, trying to remember obstacles that might not have been charted, considering the talents and handicaps of each of the young men he would be taking, and finally coming up with a plan that seemed reasonable. "All of which," Harley said as he folded the map with an air of resignation, "Is likely to end up being the only plan we can count on not happening."

"The best laid plans of mice and men. . ." Amalia sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. "I've missed you. I've been spending way too much time with my children. It's nice to talk with an adult."

"Just talk? I was hoping you came here with other motives."

"A woman can have more than one motive, can't she?"

"As many as she likes."

"Good, because I'm worried about this mission."

"Cid approved it, and I trust his judgment."

"Speaking of Miguel. . ."

Harley looked at her sharply.

"I suppose I should tell you he offered me a job teaching at his school. I'm thinking of accepting."

"Right now?"

"No. Spring or summer, perhaps. Whenever they select a permanent commander and he goes back to Estrella."

"I know you have some affection for him."

"He was a friend of the family, but that's not why I'm considering his offer."

"Tired of the game? We haven’t gotten Strecker yet."

"I know, but I’m beginning to wonder if that really matters so much. Diana was my responsibility and I let her get hurt. My children need a safe place to live."

"You realize, of course, that Will and Diana are no longer children? I don't claim to know them better than you, but what evidence do you have that they want a different life?"

"They should at least have options. Everyone needs a home."

Harley chose his next words carefully. "I think, Amalia, that you may be surprised at how much this sort of life has become the norm for them. The idea of living in one spot may be as foreign to them as this way of life seems to you."

"What's wrong with giving them a real choice?"

"Nothing at all. I'll miss you if you go away."

"I'll miss you, too." She kissed him. "And I'll miss you tomorrow when you take our boys to intercept Bonham. You'll be safe out there, right? And if Coyote. . ."

"Yes, I'll listen. He's been right too often for me to ignore him."

Amalia settled deeper into Harley's arms. "Okay, then. I'll try not to worry."

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Forty Six

2007-07-22T23:20:00.003-06:00

When they arrived back at camp, there was little time for Will to worry about Diana or for Aguilero to brood. "Don't bother unpacking your saddlebags," Harley told them. "Just add some extra food and ammo, because Bonham has a scouting unit in the area and we're heading out in the morning to intercept them."

When Amalia went to her room, she found Macy sitting up, wearing her brace. Sachi and the other girls had trooped in every afternoon to visit, and Coyote had brought her meals and slept by her side each night. He had even moved his belongings into the room as if it were his right to take up residence. Seeing how happy Macy was, Amalia was reluctant to send him away.

Will shrugged. "He's my friend, Mother. He doesn't bother me. But of course, if you want him to go. . ."

"I suppose it's okay while she's recuperating. But once she's well, they'll have to get their own room together."

"With what they get up to, that goes without saying."

Macy was glad to have Amalia back, but her smile masked a deeper worry. "This mission the guys are going on— is it dangerous?"

"Doesn't that boyfriend of yours know?"

She shook her head. "They don't usually tell Joseph stuff that pertains to him— just other people."

"Joseph?"

"He asked me to call him by his real name."

“I see.” Amalia frowned and picked at a knot on one of Macy’s bandages.

"So you're not worried?"

"Of course I am. I worry about Will all the time, but this is the sort of thing he and your Joseph train for. They'll look out for each other."

"I know, but. . ."

"Enough of that." Amalia tucked the covers around her and stood up. "They'll be back before you know it."

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Forty Five

2007-07-21T23:32:00.003-06:00

Diana slept through supper and woke only once in the night to note that Butterball was gone and Will hadn’t come to sleep with her. She missed the cat, but was glad to be alone in her very own room. In the morning, she found that Butterball had returned and lay curled at her feet.

Diana went to the washstand, heated some water in the kettle and proceeded to give herself a sponge bath. She was annoyed to find she was bleeding from the two days of riding, but decided not to mention it to Amalia, who would only worry. She wasn’t in much pain, and the midwife had said this might happen. Her bags had been brought in during the night, so she dug out some rags and resolved the problem. If she was careful today and tomorrow, the bleeding would likely stop.

She rifled through her clothes, but they seemed so out of place in this clean, peaceful home that she went to the closet instead and took out a dove-colored dress of a thick material that reminded her of cashmere. She tried it on, relishing its warmth and softness against her skin. The matching slippers were small, but they would do. She brushed out her hair and tied it in a loose ponytail. Then she peeked out the door into the hallway, and made her way to the kitchen, the hem of the dress swishing at her ankles.

She found Will, Aguilero and Amalia sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee. Everyone except Rebecca stared at her in this odd attire, and she blushed. "What? It was clean and it smelled nice."

"I hope you plan to eat breakfast with us," Amalia said. "You didn't eat dinner, so you must be starving."

Rebecca set a platter of pancakes on the table. "Be sure and take first pick, Amalia. Otherwise you won't stand a chance against these young men."

"I'll set one aside for Diana."

"If she wants some, she'll say so. She's a grownup, just like we are."

Diana investigated the cupboards, found a mug and poured a cup of coffee. She sat at the table but made no motion to eat, enjoying the consternation on Will and Amalia's faces. It was nice not to be forced to eat. So nice, in fact, that she could hardly wait for everyone to leave so she could fix herself a snack.

After breakfast, Will and Aguilero went to the barn and readied the horses. Rebecca claimed to have chores to do, so Diana and Amalia were left alone in the house. "Are you going to be okay here?" Amalia asked.

"It's a little late to be asking, don't you think?" Noting the look of genuine worry on her face, Diana added, "Yes, Auntie. This is a nice place."

"We're leaving your horse."

"I know. Thank you."

"I'll try not to pester you with letters every day. There will be a guard posted. If there's anything you need, send him with a message. If you want to come back on your own, he'll accompany you."

"Okay."

"I don't know why this is so hard for me. I feel like I'm abandoning you."

Diana ducked her head. Amalia demanded much of her and got on her nerves terribly at times, but her own mother hadn't been much different. And unlike her mother, Amalia had made her sacrifices freely, not because she had any obligation of kinship. "You're not abandoning me, Auntie. You've brought me to a safe place, just like you always have. I'm going to get better. You'll see."

Amalia blinked back tears. "I hope so. May I tell Robert you're happy here?"

"I was mean to him. He probably wants nothing to do with me now." She looked earnestly into Amalia's face. "But tell him I said thank you, and that if—"

Will strode into the room, all broad-shouldered efficiency, but in spite of the grim set of his jaw, there was an expression almost like panic in his eyes. He caught Diana in his arms and held her so tightly her feet left the floor. "Please don't stay here long. I already miss you so much I can hardly stand it."

She pulled away, startled by emotion in his voice. "It'll be okay."

He leaned close and whispered in her ear.

No. How could he say such a thing? The very idea and all that it implied threatened to bring a mountain of additional worry upon her when she only wanted peace of mind. She shoved the crazy, complicated notion out of her thoughts. "Of course," she said, misunderstanding as if her sanity depended on it. "I love you, too, brother."

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Forty Four

2007-07-20T23:20:00.002-06:00

They arrived at the McCrary farm the next afternoon. It was nestled off a back road that branched, twisted and turned around on itself so many times that even Aguilero found it confusing. "This is about as safe a safe house as I've ever come across," he muttered. "Can't even find the damn place."

But finally they were riding along a path that bordered a snow-covered meadow. The meadow flowed into a yard with a low wall and a gate hung with bells. After looking for guards, traps, instructions or any other reason to wait, Will jumped off his horse and lifted Diana down from hers. They tethered their animals and walked up the flagstone path. All around them was a snowy wonderland of evergreens, wind chimes and bird feeders, and by the front door, a statue of an angel. It was such a startling change from what they were accustomed to that even Diana looked about in curiosity.

A bird-like woman answered their knock and ushered them inside without so much as asking their names. She introduced herself as Rebecca McCrary, and she took their wraps and hung them on hooks in the foyer, smiling and bobbing her head as each person gave their name in turn. Then she led them into a pleasant room with a sofa and two stuffed chairs. Lining the walls were bookcases filled with trinkets, crystals and artifacts, and only the occasional book. A fireplace and pot-bellied stove made the room cozy and Rebecca insisted everyone sit and get comfortable. "I'll put the kettle on," she said.

Will led Diana to the sofa and sat beside her, holding her hand. Amalia eased herself into an upholstered chair across from them while Aguilero went to the fireplace and stretched his chillblained hands toward it. When Rebecca came back a few minutes later, she was carrying a tray with cups, saucers, and a blue teapot. Aguilero joined Will and Diana on the sofa and Rebecca perched herself on the remaining chair. After asking a few questions about their trip, she turned her attention to Amalia and soon they were deep in conversation about aspens, birds and snowflakes, discussing everything, yet nothing at all.

Lulled by the warmth of the room, the softness of the sofa and the cheerful banality of the discussion, Diana grew sleepy. Rebecca had made no fuss over her and ignored her in a kindly way, as if confident she could make her own decisions as to when she would speak, sit, stand, eat or drink. She demanded nothing, and in the nicest of ways. Soon Diana was dozing over her empty teacup.

Amalia made to say something, but Rebecca gave a slight shake of her head. She got up and put a hand on Diana's shoulder. "Would you like me to show you your room, dear?"

Diana looked up, startled. She darted a glance at Amalia, who turned away and made no comment. Rest sounded good, so she followed Rebecca down a narrow hallway to a room decorated in pale yellow, like a perpetual spring afternoon. A fire was already burning in the small iron stove. "I've heated this room every day since they told me to expect you," Rebecca said. "I hope you like it. Anything you see, consider it yours."

"Even the cat?"

Rebecca started. "Oh, Butterball. . ." She bent over the cat on the bed and scratched her between the ears. "We don't know if this young lady likes cats."

"It's okay. I haven't had a real pet in. . . well, a long time. It'll be nice if she wants to stay."

"All right, then. Throw her out if you change your mind." She considered for a moment. "There's robes, dresses, slippers, and that sort of thing in the closet, and nightgowns in the dresser. Of course, you can wear whatever you like. No one here to mind except me and the animals, and I don't care. The door at the end of this hallway is the shortcut to the little house out back, if you know what I mean, and you saw where the kitchen is. Help yourself, any time. I myself eat three squares a day. I would love your company, but I'm going to assume you're a grownup who doesn't need to be told what to eat and when to eat it."

Diana could have thrown her arms around Rebecca's neck and hugged her for such an indulgence. Instead, she sat on the edge of the bed and drew the cat into her lap.

"There are a lot of chores to be done around here. You don't have to do any of them, but any help you offer will be gratefully accepted."

"Of course." Diana promised herself that she would do something every day, even if it was only wash the dishes.

"That's about it for house rules. I'm going to go back to the others now. I'll be preparing dinner soon. Join us if you like, or help yourself to leftovers whenever it suits you."

Diana frowned. "I suppose I should find out when they're leaving."

"They'll sleep here tonight. If you'd rather stay in your room, you can say good-bye to them in the morning."

After Rebecca left, Diana inspected her new surroundings. She started by looking out the window, where a bird feeder hung from an evergreen branch and a jay picked at a few seeds. As she moved to close the drapes, she noticed a prism hanging from the window frame. She spun it slowly, admiring the way the colors swirled and sparkled.

There was a chest against one wall, empty except for some nightgowns, towels and blankets in the bottom drawer. The top was covered with a white lace runner, on which was set a vase of silk pansies, a brass clock and a crystal trinket box that contained colorful pebbles and the smooth brown shell of a garden snail. The washstand was near the iron heating stove, and there was a bin of extra wood and a kettle so she wouldn't have to wash her face with cold water.

The closet contained robes and dresses in soft fabrics and gentle colors. Diana touched them reverently. Although she abhorred dresses on general principle, there was something comforting about these clothes, with their loose, uncomplicated style. It might be a pleasure to go about in the soft blue flannel dress, or to wrap herself in the pink terry robe. And there were slippers to match. She blinked back sudden tears. She hadn't had the luxury of matching clothes of any kind since Strecker's men burned her family's farm. Housedresses and an actual house to wear them in seemed decadent and more than she deserved.

On the nightstand was an even more surprising luxury— a vase of fresh flowers. Where had they come from? Then she remembered that Amalia had said something about a greenhouse. This was a marvel that would have to be investigated. The bottom shelf of the nightstand contained books, but other than the Bible, Diana recognized none of them. She pulled one out and opened it at random:

Our life is shaped by our mind; we become what we think.

This so startled her that she put the book back on the shelf. Suspecting that the other books were of a similar vein, she sat on the bed and the cat rubbed against her, purring. She pulled it onto her lap, burying her fingers in its thick white fur. "What kind of crazy place is this, Butterball? Did Robert really arrange all this just for me?" She gasped in dismay. "Oh, no. I told him I hated him."

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Forty Three

2007-07-19T23:25:00.003-06:00

A week later, Will, Aguilero, Amalia and Diana set out for the McCrary place. Diana sat sullenly on her mare, wrapped in a gray wool blanket. She had made no further protest about the journey and sat passively, moving only enough to stay in rhythm with her horse, and speaking not at all.

They traveled under a leaden sky that grew darker as the morning wore on. Around mid-day, snow began to fall. Abandoning any thought of stopping for lunch, they continued across barren meadows and down rocky forest paths, their clothes becoming dusted with snow, which they shook off to keep from getting damp and chilled.

Only Diana seemed oblivious, and Amalia had to remind her, "Shake the snow off that stupid blanket you're wearing." Then Diana would make a token effort at brushing herself off, only to have the snow pile up again a little while later. By the time the sky cleared in late afternoon, the blanket was frozen into a light crust around her body.

As they set up camp for the night, Amalia chided her. "Are you trying to freeze yourself to death?"

"I'm sitting here in front of the fire, aren't I?"

"Only because Will took you off your horse and put you here."

"What does it matter how I got here, as long as it's what you want?"

Amalia was about to say something else when Aguilero walked over with some damp branches for the fire. "How about I sit with her while you look for wood?"

The request startled her. As senior member of the party, she made the rules, but something in Aguilero's face gave her pause. Amalia nodded, poked a couple rocks out of the fire and wrapped them in scraps of flannel. "I was going to take these to Will, anyway, so he can warm his hands."

As soon as she was gone, Aguilero eased his lanky body onto the ground beside Diana. "I've been wanting to talk to you alone. What happened wasn't your fault, you know." When she didn't answer, he added, "Pepsi was never any good on a horse, and you did try to teach her. It's not your fault I distracted her from practicing."

"Would've mattered if we hadn't gotten lost."

"That wasn't because of you."

"Oh, what do you know about it?"

He toyed with the bracelet on his wrist. "I know you did as much to save her as anyone could've done."

Diana mumbled something and looked away.

"Well, that's what I think, and no one's going to convince me different. Besides, Pepsi thought highly of you. She would've been the first to say it was her fault, not yours."

Diana was about to make a caustic comment, when Aguilero removed his jacket and pulled up his sleeves. His brown arms were crisscrossed with cuts, some of them fresh, others nearly healed, some deep enough that they should've had stitches. One was so raw it was still oozing. "Where did those come from?"

"I did it. I don't know why. I like to use her knife. It distracts me and makes the rest a little easier to deal with." He looked at her solemnly. "You're doing the same thing, just on the inside." He rolled down his sleeves and shrugged back into his jacket. "It's a stupid thing to do."

"Then why do you keep doing it?"

"Why do you?"

Diana didn't answer, and after awhile Aguilero went to help Will build shelters for the night. When Amalia returned with more firewood, she found Diana setting a pot of water to boil so they could have hot drinks. Wisely, she said nothing about this first foray back into usefulness, and Diana did nothing else that night but nibble a bit of pemmican and turn in early. But they all thought perhaps some progress was being made.

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Forty Two

2007-07-18T23:46:00.002-06:00

Amalia was unprepared for Will's reaction to the plan.

"I won’t let you send her away. People will think we're embarrassed by her."

"No one with any sense would believe that, and why should we care what fools think?"

"I'm concerned for her reputation."

"She'll be staying on a nice farm with a widow of excellent character."

"A place Sputnik picked out. You know what they're saying about them in town, right?"

Diana had been lying on a blanket with only a weak scowl to give any indication she might have feelings about what was going on, but now a flicker of curiosity crossed her face. "What are they saying?"

Will started, as if he had forgotten Diana's passivity didn't indicate deafness. "Just talk. You know how people are."

Diana looked like she wanted to ask more, but almost as quickly as it had come over her, the small bit of curiosity vanished. "I don't want to go. Send Macy. This place is good enough for me."

"Macy's not well enough to travel," Amalia said. "But you are. I want you to practice your riding and see how you feel. Will or Sachi will go with you."

Diana rolled over and covered her face with her blanket.

"Okay, then. I'll pick a date and have you put in the back of a donkey cart."

Will put a hand on Amalia's arm and indicated with a jerk of his head that he wanted to speak with her privately. When they were alone in the main tunnel, he asked, "Why are you insisting on this? She isn't interested."

"Of course she's not interested. She gets worse every day. We have to stop this before it gets out of control."

"Going to one of Sputnik's safe houses won’t be an improvement."

"It's not his house, it's Unitas'. And would you like to tell me what you've got against Robert?"

Will became flustered. "Well, it's because of him—"

"Don’t lie to me. You've heard the rumor that there's something going on between them, and you're jealous."

"I don't listen to gossip."

"I’m glad to hear it."

"But other people believe it."

"That's not our problem. I'll make a deal with you. We'll plan on leaving in one week. If her mood is better by then and she wants to stay, I won't argue."

"I suppose that's reasonable."

"I’m glad you think so. Now let's go see what they’re making for dinner and if we can convince Diana to eat some of it."

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Forty One

2007-07-17T23:39:00.002-06:00

Robert made his way to mine entrance and leaned against the outside wall.

Amalia found him and tried to press a hot drink into his hands.

“How did it go?”

“Badly. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You warned me.”

“I’m sure whatever she said, she didn’t mean it.”

"No, she meant it. It was my business to know there was danger in the area, and I let her down."

"You're only as good as your sources. She knows that. I doubt it's even entered her head that anyone is responsible for what happened, except her."

Robert’s eyebrows flickered in disagreement. "I know of a farm, not too far away. It's owned by a widow named Rebecca McCrary. She has gardens in warm weather, keeps a greenhouse in winter. She raises rabbits, chickens and goats, and we’ve sent women to her before to get over these sorts of things. She passes no judgments and asks no questions. I think we should send Diana there for a little while. This place is killing her."

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Forty

2007-07-16T22:30:00.002-06:00

The sun was nearly overhead, giving an illusion of warmth, even though the day was cold. Amalia and Cascabel stood over the cooking fire, ladling bowls of soup.

Will, Harley, and Galileo tramped in from the corral, smelling of mud and horses. They asked for their soup in earthen crocks which they took to where they were shoeing the horses and burros. Next Tiffany and Ikea approached, sticking close to Sachi. The three of them got their lunch and found a place to sit under the bare branches of an aspen grove. Boeing got some soup, stuffed his pockets with camp bread, and wandered off, bored with everyone.

It was strange for the young people to be so quiet. As Amalia handed Aguilero his soup, she noticed Pepsi's silver bracelet, held together with wire to make it fit his wrist. She made sure to put some extra chunks of meat in his bowl and tried to catch his eye, but he turned away and looked around in confusion. Tiffany got up and led him to join their glum little circle.

Amalia ladled some soup for herself and was going to eat with Paloma when a movement on the path caught her eye. She picked up the binoculars hanging from a nearby branch and peered down the road. To her surprise, it was Robert, flanked by two guards. No wonder the watch hadn’t raised the alarm. But he was still so sick. What was he doing here?

Robert rode into camp looking more like a local commander than a lieutenant in his tall boots and long leather coat, a black felt hat pulled low over his eyes. The heavy clothes filled out his wasted body, and the shadows around his eyes lent him an aura of mystery. Tiffany and Ikea exchanged excited whispers, while Cascabel shook out her hair, bit her lips red and tried to catch a spot in his line of sight.

Robert shook hands and said all the correct words when Amalia introduced him to everyone, but his smile went no farther than his lips and he kept a tight grip on the handle of his cane. "Come inside and let me get you something hot to drink," Amalia offered.

"Where is Harley? I should make my respects first."

"He's at the corral, but we can send for him if you need to see him right away."

"It's not urgent, but I'll need to talk to him. I've got some information about Bonham. I need to talk to you, too. Privately."

Amalia bowed her head. “I’m sorry. I should’ve come to see you."

"Diana needs you here."

"But I didn't want you to hear about it through rumor and innuendo."

"My sources know truth from fiction, although I feel like an idiot for not having known there was a dangerous group in the area." He looked toward the mine entrance. “Can I see her?”

Amalia led him into the mine, slowing her pace to match his limping gait and the waddle of an attendant following with a pannier.

"This is no place for someone to get well,” Robert said as they moved deeper underground and lost access to daylight and fresh air.

"It’s still too cold for the tents, and I don’t know where else—“

“There are arrangements I can make. You know that.”

"I’m not sure she should travel. The midwife said she could try to ride anytime she likes, but. . . there’s more to it than that. You’ll see.” They neared the blind tunnel that served as Amalia's room and she put a hand on Robert’s arm. "Don't be discouraged if she's angry or refuses to talk to you. She does it to all of us."

The two girls lay a little distance apart on pads of folded blankets. When Robert entered the room, Macy tried to sit up, but couldn't get her balance and had to lie back down. Diana was curled on her side staring at the blue-white glow of a solar lantern. At the movement in the doorway, she propped herself on one elbow and pushed her hair out of her face. For a moment she didn't recognize Robert, dressed so nicely and in this, of all places. Her eyes widened. Then she flung herself back on her pallet and looked away.

He gazed at her, his face unreadable, then handed his hat and coat to his attendant and went to Macy. He eased himself down carefully, using his cane for support. "Hi, sweetheart," he said, taking her hand. "How are you doing?"

"Not so good. I fell off my horse."

"That's what I heard. Are you in pain? I brought some medicine and a brace for your back."

"Thanks. If I could sit up, I could maybe practice my reading or do something useful like crochet."

"You've been useful to us for many years. Let Unitas take care of you for a change."

"That's a nice thing to say, but. . ."

"What did they tell you about your back? Can you move your legs and feet?"

"Yes. Ms. Channing says I'll get better."

"There's nothing to indicate spinal cord damage,” Amalia said. “The symptoms seem to point toward soft tissue injury. It's likely just a bad sprain."

Robert motioned to his attendant. "Bring me that tin from la señora." The young man rummaged in one of the bags and handed him a round metal box. Robert opened it and showed Macy its contents. He darted a glance at Diana, who hadn't moved, but lay so stiff that it was obvious she was paying attention. "I brought you a treat," he said. "Since you were kind enough bring me things when I was sick."

Macy's eyes widened with pleasure at the sight of Señora Varamendi's shortbread cookies. Robert and Amalia helped her sit up, propping her against mounded pillows and rolls of blankets. "Are you really well now?" she asked.

He shook his head, still looking at Diana, hoping for a response. "No, but it's time to quit indulging myself."

While Macy nibbled a cookie, Robert indicated with a jerk of his chin that Amalia and the attendant should leave. Once they were alone, he moved closer to Macy so she could use his body for support. "How is she, really?" he whispered.

"Bad."

"Everyone says she was brave."

Macy wiped the crumbs off her mouth. "This is different." She darted a glance at Diana, then lowered her voice further. "She's ashamed."

"But those men—"

"It's not about that. I mean, that's part of it, but I don't think it's the main reason."

"What is it, then?"

"Pepsi. Me. She's always been so. . . always right, you know? I don’t think she’s ever made a mistake, and she thinks this is all her fault."

By now Diana had shifted position, trying to hear what they were saying.

"Would you like to lie back down?" He lowered Macy onto her back and arranged the blankets. Then he hoisted himself to his feet and limped to his bag of goods. After finding what he was looking for, he made his way to Diana's pallet. He had expected her to remain silent, so he was surprised when, without turning around or looking at him, she said, "Awfully bad manners to whisper about a person when they're right there in the same room."

"They said you might not want to talk to me."

"Then why'd you come?"

"I care about you, and I owe you an apology."

"Maybe you should leave."

"I will, after I've rested. I still tire easily." He had taken a book out of the pannier and now he moved the lantern closer. He read to her quietly for awhile, as Diana had to him so many times. When finally the lines of her body relaxed as if she might sleep, he set the book aside and stretched out beside her. "I've missed you.”

Diana stiffened. "Don't talk to me like that."

"Like what? Like I love you?"

She nodded.

"After all you did for me—"

"You deserved it. You save people. I only get them killed."

“Don’t judge yourself. It's my fault for not stopping you. Wait until you’re feeling better and can think more clearly."

"There's nothing wrong with my brain.”

“And this is what you think you want? To lie here in the dark, waiting to die?"

"I'm a grownup. I can make my own decisions.”

“How about you let me arrange something for you? A pretty farmhouse with sunshine and fresh air. Wouldn’t that be nice? You can’t get well in this place.”

Diana rolled over and stared. "You want to send me away?"

"For your own good, dear."

"Yes, isn't that the sort of thing people always say? You talk about what's good for everyone else as if you knew a goddamn thing about it, but you know what? You don't really know what happened out there, and you sure as hell don't know what it feels like, so you can take your fucking platitudes and go to hell." She buried her face in her pillow and burst into tears.

Robert put a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't touch me!"

Frightened by the note of panic in her voice, he stood up.

"Why are you even here? I hate you!"

"I was just leaving." As he turned away, he caught sight of Macy, watching him in concern. She waved him over. "She doesn't really mean it. She loves you."

"I don't think so."

"Wait until she gets better. You'll see."

"It's nice of you to say that." He kissed her on the forehead and smoothed her hair. "You're a fine young lady, Macy. Some man is going to be very lucky to have you."

"We'll see." She looked at Diana, who was still crying in her pillow. "Maybe you should. . ."

"No. She's right to be angry. But I won't let her make a fool of me." Without looking at Diana again, he hobbled toward the doorway and the tunnel that would lead him back to daylight.

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Thirty Nine

2007-07-15T23:42:00.003-06:00

Diana lay stiffly in Will's arms. Although his body was solid and reassuring, she couldn't draw comfort from him like she had for so many years that it had come to seem like her birthright. She wasn't sure why, but his kindness made her angry. In fact, nearly everything made her angry. It was only the strong downward pull of indifference that kept her from lashing out at everyone. Who did they think they were kidding? Stews, kisses and platitudes weren’t going to undo the mistakes she had made. She sulked, wondering when Will would go away and leave her in peace.

But when he left to go on watch, she missed him and buried her face in her pillow to cry. That was no good either, because before long, Amalia came in. Diana choked down her tears and feigned unconcern while Auntie explained about the midwife and what she was going to do. She brushed off all reassurances and pretended to sleep, but sleep wouldn't come. Instead, the same dull round of self-reproach resumed. She should’ve had a plan. She got her friend killed. Macy might never walk again. It was all her fault. She was stupid and incompetent, and had gotten what she deserved.

It was a relief when she sensed more than heard someone enter the room. Grateful for the distraction, she opened her eyes. By the light of an oil lamp, she saw Coyote creep in and approach Macy's pallet. She didn't wake up and this seemed to suit him fine. He stared at her for a long time, then lay down beside her like a faithful dog and went to sleep.

Diana smiled, reassured that something was still good in the world. She closed her eyes and drifted into a fitful sleep.

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Thirty Eight

2007-07-14T23:28:00.002-06:00

Diana lay on her pallet, staring at nothing. Now that the initial shock had worn off, she couldn’t stop the recriminations that repeated themselves in her head. They shouldn't have sneaked out. They should've been better armed. They certainly should not have gotten drunk, and they should have paid attention to where they were going. It was her fault Pepsi was dead and Macy lay injured. It was because of her the boys had to avenge the attack.

Now the affair threatened to become an inter-group incident because several of the horses they brought back bore Lone Star brands, and Unitas and Lone Star were supposed to be in a state of truce. Although the most likely scenario was that the horses had been stolen or belonged to deserters, the matter would have to be investigated. If their attackers had been members in good standing, there would be hell to pay, on both sides. Will might be in very serious trouble, and it was all her fault.

Auntie came in with a tray and Diana sighed. It was annoying the way she was expected to eat at regular intervals.

Amalia set a bowl of stew by her side. "You'll like this. Sachi helped make it."

Amalia took the other bowl to Macy. She propped her against an assortment of boxes and bundles and began feeding her some clear broth. After a few minutes, she looked at Diana. "Don't make me have to feed you, too."

Diana sat up sullenly and took a bite. The stew was good, rich with venison, barley and potatoes. Surely there were hungry people in town who would be glad to have it. Why waste food on her? She didn't even deserve to be alive. She tried to set the bowl aside, but Amalia had sharp eyes.

"Finish it all, Diana."

She was poking a piece of potato with her spoon when Will came in and squatted beside her. "Dinner's good tonight, isn't it?"

"Make sure she eats all of it," Amalia told him.

"I'm not hungry."

Will took the bowl out of her hands and mashed up the potato. "Of course you're hungry. You just don't know it." He tried to spoon a bit of potato into her mouth, but she jerked away. "You have to eat. It's the only way you're going to get better."

"I don't want to get better. I want to die." She lay down and closed her eyes.

Will and Amalia exchanged glances. Diana had been carrying on like this for two days. He set the bowl aside and lay next to her, drawing her into his arms. "I'll lie here and die with you, then. How's that?"

"Suit yourself."

Amalia got to her feet and collected the dinner dishes. She glanced at the remains of Diana's stew with moderate satisfaction. It was more than she had eaten at lunch. "Is she asleep?"

"Not yet."

"Come on, anyway."

"I don't think she should be alone."

"Macy's here."

"It's not the same."

Macy spoke up. "It's okay, Ms Channing. We like having him here."

Amalia pursed her lips. Macy spent most of the time asleep. She hardly knew what she liked or didn't like, let alone what Diana wanted. But Will would go on watch soon, and if Diana was still awake, she could talk to her then. She had finally been able to schedule the town midwife to come, and Amalia didn't want it to be a surprise. It was important to get both girls checked for injuries, and gynecological matters were something Amalia had neither the knowledge nor the stomach for.

She had nearly fainted in shock when the boys returned painted in blood like savages, bringing horses, guns, and enemy scalps like some sort of ancient war booty. Although Will never told her what happened at the raiders' camp, the story had spread quickly among the young people. Even allowing for exaggeration, it was a gory tale that Amalia struggled to reconcile with what she thought she knew about this boy she had raised as her own. Now when she looked at him-- clean, polite, pleasant to look at, she instead saw the bloody wild man who had taken pleasure in ripping a man's bowels from his body. The very idea defied imagination.

She had waited too long. She had made excuses and focused on her desire for revenge when she should've been looking for a proper home. Now look what had happened. The women in their group knew that rape was a possibility, but Amalia also knew that it was her restrictions that had made Diana careless. Why had she not let them have their little party? She could no longer remember the reason, but she felt certain it was a stupid one.

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Thirty Seven

2007-07-13T22:59:00.003-06:00

"Diana came in from the west," Aguilero said, examining the hoof prints. "But Sachi took a trail from the south. Both of them seem to have spent most of the time lost." He shook his head in disgust. "I have no idea which way is going to be faster."

Coyote closed his eyes. "Take Sachi's trail."

"Are you sure?"

"I knew we had to come back, didn't I?"

"Too bad you didn't know it before my girl was dead." Aguilero kicked his horse and started following the tracks that Sachi's mare had made across the meadow.

"You think I wouldn't have made us come back sooner if I'd known? You think I wanted this to happen?"

"Stop it, both of you," Will said. "Save it for when we find them."

They followed Sachi's tracks all morning, veering off the trail only when Coyote could point with certainty to some faster way. At mid-day they came upon Pepsi's dead horse. They looked at the animal solemnly as their own horses skittered and tugged at their bits. Will jumped to the ground and suggested they move the mare out of the road.

As they were dragging the horse into the weeds, they found the torn remnants of Macy's and Diana's clothes, and Aguilero picked up a knife and bracelet that had been left in the dust. He tried to put the bracelet on his wrist, but it was too small so he dropped it into his pocket. The knife he added to his arsenal.

A little farther on, they found a deserted camp. The fires had long since gone cold and the raiders moved on, but they had left their dead behind. "What kind of sick bastards don't bury their own?" Boeing asked.

"I guess they figured someone might come after them." Will looked from one body to the other, pleased that even at a disadvantage, Diana had managed to kill two of them. He had an urge to carve the corpses into bloody bits that he could grind beneath his heels, but for now there were more important matters to pursue.

They moved on, Coyote and Aguilero in the lead. The trail was easy to follow now. Even so, it was dusk before they made out a few dim shapes in the distance. "Hold up," Will said. "We'll wait until they camp for the night."

They found a place to shelter and settled in to wait, each lost in his own dour thoughts. Boeing had some pemmican that he parceled out, and Will shared what was left of his water. When it was dark enough to continue, they remounted and set off again. When they caught sight of the campfire, they reined in.

"Five of them," Will said. "We can take them out, no problem."

"Unless they posted a guard."

"They don’t seem like cautious types."

"I bet they're drunk. There were a lot of bottles back at the other camp."

"We'll split up and surround them," Will said. "It won't matter if they're drunk, sober, or what. They'll be dead before they can do a goddamn thing." He split the group, and told the others to wait for his signal.

As Will circled the camp, he eased up on the emotions that had been building inside him all day. He had been struggling to keep his head clear, but now his mind was on fire, remembering the bloody strips of clothing they had found and what those men had done to the girls. A dark, ugly rage swept through him. Now that he had the raiders in his sights, he would rip the living flesh from their bones.

He moved his horse into position. The bastards hadn't yet posted a guard for the night and they wouldn't live long enough to learn from their mistake. He drew his pistol, breathing hard with anticipation. With a shout, he fired the signal shot and spurred his horse down the hill.

Hooves pounding, the four men burst into camp. The raiders jumped to their feet, fumbling too late for their weapons. Will shot one through the chest, while Aguilero sent another sprawling into the dust. Boeing fired and caught a man in the throat, but another raider dug a knife into his horse's flank and made a run for it while Boeing fought his panicked mount.

Coyote gave chase, felling the man with a bullet to the back. He leaped off his horse, knife drawn, and stabbed him over and over, carving him up with abandon as Will took aim at the last outlaw, who fell to his knees with a whimper. With a cruel smirk none of his companions had ever seen before, Will motioned for Aguilero to haul him to his feet. Then he drew his hunting knife and disemboweled him alive, grinning in satisfaction as intestines spilled onto the ground and blood soaked into the earth.

Aguilero threw the dead man to the ground and began stomping and kicking his face. Will rushed to join him, but a movement out of the corner of his eye made him stop and whirl around. It was Coyote, painted in blood and waving a dark, ragged thing like a banner. "I scalped the son of a bitch!" He tossed the scrap of flesh into the fire where it reeked and smoldered. His eyes lit on a bottle nearby. He picked it up and sniffed it, then took a long hard pull.

They passed the bottle around. Inspired by Coyote's bloody face, Will scrabbled in the blood-soaked mud. "I can do better than that," Aguilero said, and began cutting up the nearest body, rubbing blood on his face with both hands before taking another pull at the bottle. With the fire of rage and cheap corn whiskey in their veins, they fell on the bodies, hacking off genitals, ears and fingers, slicing torsos open and tossing organs and mangled bits into the fire. They hit the bottle again, and the moonshine and sickly smell of burning flesh fueled their bloodlust as they chopped up the dead men in a frenzy.

They spent half an hour in a madness of mutilation, only to find themselves suddenly exhausted, the urge to destroy ebbing as quickly as it had washed over them. Breathing hard, they stared at each other, scarcely recognizable for the gore and dirt matting their hair, staining their faces and clothes. Aguilero examined the bloody knife in his hand as if seeing it for the first time, while Boeing and Will shook their heads and looked around at the bones and flesh that remained.

Coyote stumbled to the fire and sank down in a drunken stupor, staring at the flames and charred residue of bones as if there were something in there visible to him alone.

Will sat down beside him. In a flat voice he asked, "What do you see?"

"Nothing."

"I'd be happy if you never saw anything again," Aguilero said.

Coyote buried his face in his hands.

Will knew he should say something, get up and give the others some orders. They needed to get back to the mines before anyone came after them, but the world was spinning and he was just too tired.

"I'll collect the horses," Boeing said. "I guess we want to take theirs with us?"

Had he any energy left for gratitude, Will would have blessed him for taking charge. "If they're not skittish at the smell of blood, yeah. We'll take them."

While Boeing rounded up the horses, Aguilero stood in front of the fire, staring at nothing. He didn't move for so long, that Will finally told him to sit down. "Unless you feel like catching horses."

As if in a dream, Aguilero took Pepsi's knife and dug a groove down the inside of his arm. "It's all so crazy. I don't know how to make it feel real."

"That won't help." Will got to his feet, cut a strip from the tail of his shirt and wrapped it around Aguilero's arm. "Don't do that any more. None of us is up for it."

"But nothing feels real."

"Be grateful."

A few minutes later, Boeing brought over some of the horses. "I'll need help catching the rest.” While Coyote and Aguilero settled into their saddles, Will went with Boeing. "You going to be all right?" Boeing asked.

"This isn't about me."

"Harley's going to have something to say when we show up looking like this."

"I don't care." He clucked to one of the horses and grabbed its bridle. "In fact, I don't give a damn about anything right now."

They caught the last of the horses and led them to where Coyote and Aguilero were waiting. "I think there's a shorter way," Coyote said.

"You think, or you know?"

"I know."

"Good," Will said. "Lead us home, then."

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Thirty Six

2007-07-12T23:53:00.002-06:00

She awoke to the sound of crying. Then she heard a man’s voice.

"It's okay, Mother."

Will was here. He would fix things, just like he always had. Diana felt him at her side and leaned into him as if she could draw the strength of his body into her own. She opened her eyes and managed what she hoped was a smile.

There was something odd and restrained about him that she couldn't figure out. He kissed her forehead. "Don't worry," he said. "It won’t take long."

Before she could ask what he meant, another voice asked, "How's Macy?"

Diana looked around and realized Macy was lying on a pallet nearby.

"She hasn't woken up yet," Amalia said. "We won't know much until then."

Coyote knelt by Macy's side and brushed a lock of hair out of her face. "The bastards told me too late."

Diana frowned, wondering why nothing anyone was saying made sense. "She's okay. She stood up so I could get her on my horse."

Coyote’s eyes glowed in the light of the lantern. "Thank you for rescuing her."

"What are you talking about? I nearly got her killed."

"Come on," Will told Coyote. "We need to go before Harley tries to stop us."

"Where are you going?" Amalia demanded.

"We'll be back, Mother."

"Back when? From where?"

Diana saw Will pull Amalia close and wondered why she hadn't noticed before how tall and strong he was. He looked like he could kill a hundred raiders with his bare hands. The thought pleased her, but when had Will grown up and Auntie grown old?

"This won't take long," he said again.

Then he and Coyote were gone. Amalia looked like she would run after them, but seeing that Diana was watching, she busied herself instead checking her for signs of fever and concussion. Diana submitted patiently, knowing these small distractions would keep her own emotions at bay, too. When Amalia finally ran out of practical things to do, they found themselves staring at each other. Diana turned away first, unable to bear what she saw in her eyes. She was overwhelmed with both embarrassment and gratitude when Amalia lay down and put her arms around her.

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Thirty Five

2007-07-11T23:20:00.004-06:00

Diana opened her eyes, but couldn't see anything. She frowned and felt a few pebbles grind into her forehead. What was she doing with her face in the dirt? Dimly aware she was in danger, she tried to get up.

The pain took her breath away.

She slumped back to the ground. Everything hurt and her body felt like it weighed at least a thousand pounds. Danger or no danger, unconsciousness was better. It was comfortable and warm.

Cold. That was why she felt so heavy. She needed to do something about that. Cold could kill. Bracing this time for the pain, she hoisted herself onto her elbows. The still form beside her brought everything back with a rush. She looked around. Seeing only a single raider nearby, dozing in front of the dying embers of a fire, she dragged herself to Macy's side. Yes, she was alive. Her ribs were rising and falling faintly. But she was struck by how cold her friend's skin was. Was her own body this cold? No wonder she could hardly move.

She scrabbled at Macy's tangled hair and whispered in her ear. "Macy, wake up."

No response. In the moonlight, she could make out several ugly bruises, and Macy's arm lay at an unlikely angle, probably broken when she fell off her horse. What other kinds of injuries did she have? Diana didn't even want to think about her own bruised and bleeding body. She had been unconscious for most of what had happened, but she knew what those men had done. She also knew that if she was still alive, it was because they'd be back for more as soon as they woke up. This was no time for self-pity.

Slowly, she got to her feet, looking for the other raiders. They were a little ways away, also asleep, probably drunk. Their horses were wandering loose, and she thought she could make out her own among them. This was better than she had any reason to hope for. She looked around for something to put on. She was so cold! They had moved her from the place where they had cut off her clothes, and there was nothing here she could wear, not so much as a scrap of old blanket. Her eyes returned to the drunken guard. He wouldn't be needing his clothes after she got through with him.

She approached the man on silent feet, picked up a nearby rock and brought it down on his head as hard as she could. Then she jerked his knife out of the sheath, plunged it into his throat, and twisted until she felt the blood spurt over her hands. "Fucking rapist son of a bitch." She was seized with a desire to stab the knife into his belly and rip his insides out, just because she could. She was too numb to be shocked at the pleasure the thought gave her. But no, she needed his clothes and they were in a bad enough state as they were.

She fumbled with the buttons as she undressed him and pulled the clothes over her own chilled body. Everything was too big, and the pants were particularly troublesome. She pulled the leather cord from her braid and tied a few of the belt loops together, then rolled up the pant legs. That would do it. The belt for the man's holster was hopelessly loose, but the pistol would fit in a pocket, as would the knife.

She paused for a moment to rest. Every move felt like it was through something thick and sticky, like molasses. Maybe it wasn't the cold at all, but the knock on the head that was making her feel this way. Or was she hung over? And the most difficult tasks still lay ahead. She needed to get her horse, get Macy onto it and somehow get away without the other men waking up. What a shame there were too many to kill. From this distance it looked like there were four, maybe five of them. She could shoot one or two, but then the others would wake up and that would be the end of it for her. Who would get Macy home then?

She moved toward the horses, seeking out her own. Flecha recognized her and made the job easier by walking over and lowering her head. Diana rubbed the mare's nose, grabbed the dangling reins and began leading her away. Then she stopped. Her befuddled brain had managed to come up with an idea.

She approached one of the raider's horses. It was still saddled, and she loosened the girth strap to complicate any effort at pursuit. She repeated this with the other horses, grabbing a rolled blanket from a pack behind the last one's saddle. Then she led her mare to where Macy still lay motionless on the ground.

"Macy, wake up. Don't talk. Just wake up, okay?" She shook her shoulder hard.

The girl stirred slightly and moaned.

"We can get away, but you have to help me. Stand up. Just for a minute."

Her head pounding, Diana pulled Macy to her feet. But as soon as she let go, Macy's knees buckled under her and she sank back to the ground.

"Stop that!" She dragged Macy closer to the horse. The little mustang was accustomed to Diana's strange training methods and stood still. "I'm going to help you up again, and you're going to stay standing this time, got it? Lean on the horse. It'll only be a few seconds. Understand?"

Macy's head bobbed in an approximation of agreement, and Diana helped her up again, this time positioning her against Flecha's shoulder for support. Every movement agony, she grabbed the girl around the knees and hoisted her across the horse's withers. Macy let out a dull gasp as the sudden movement knocked the air out of her lungs. Diana tucked the blanket around her. Now she had a new dilemma. How was she supposed to get up there, herself? There was no way she could vault herself onto the horse's back, even if she could withstand the pain. She would have to lead Flecha for now.

Impatient with this new delay, she began walking the horse away from the camp. Before she had gone far, she saw what she was looking for. She scrambled onto a rock and lowered herself onto Flecha's back. The pain of straddling the horse made her gasp. If it felt like this now, what would it be like once they started moving? And where were they going, anyway? She kicked the mare into a walk, then a bone-jarring trot that nearly made her cry from the pain. But pain was good. It kept her mind off everything else.

She set out into the pre-dawn darkness, dimly aware of riding down forest paths and across meadows.

Sometimes the trails were broad, almost like roads, other times they narrowed into traces.

The journey seemed to go on for hours, although she knew she couldn't be more than a few miles from camp. Why couldn't she find it? The sun began to rise, casting everything in a pink glow as she wandered in circles. Finally she let Flecha choose her own path. The pain had dulled, along with her ability think, and Diana only realized she had lost consciousness when shouts and a pounding of hooves startled her awake. Raiders again? She put a hand on Macy's back and reached for her gun as she made to kick the horse into a gallop. But then she realized she was surrounded, and it wasn't enemies but Harley, Sachi, Tiffany, and Ikea. She nearly fainted with relief.

They stopped her horse and asked her questions, but she couldn't understand what they were saying. Their voices kept getting farther and farther away, even as someone lifted Macy onto their own horse and someone else took the reins out of her hand. She draped herself across her horse's neck, closed her eyes and let them lead her where they would.

It could've been an hour or only a minute, but then she heard Auntie's voice. The horse stopped and a pair of strong arms lifted her down and carried her into the mine. Auntie was nearby, giving instructions, but Diana couldn't make sense of her words. It was as if everyone was speaking some unfamiliar language. Then she was resting on her own pallet and someone was cutting the raider's stinking clothes off her. She opened her eyes to find Auntie bathing her with rags dipped in warm water that smelled faintly of herbs and flowers. She wanted to thank her, but before she could get the words out, the world slipped away.

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Thirty Four

2007-07-10T23:42:00.003-06:00

Will couldn't sleep. There was no particular reason. Boeing lay sprawled on the other side of the tent snoring, but he was used to that by now. Aguilero occasionally muttered something out of a dream, but Will had become accustomed to that, too. Coyote's absence was entirely normal. Did he ever rest?

Will sighed and shifted position. Maybe having the blankets a different way would help. But no, what he really needed was to have Diana near. He had grown so accustomed to the rhythm of her breathing at night that her absence left him unsettled. He should’ve insisted she be allowed to come with them. Even after weeks apart, he couldn't get used to being without her.

He sat up and pulled on his boots. He was starting to learn from Coyote's restless ways. If he couldn't sleep, what was the use of lying in bed hour after hour, doing nothing? He strapped on his hunting knife, but didn't bother with a gun or flashlight. The camp was well-guarded and the moonlight would be sufficient for a walk.

A cold wind hit him in the face as he stepped out of the tent, and he shrugged deeper into his jacket. In the near distance, he could see the outline of the bridge. They had made good progress this week. Just when he had begun to wonder if it would ever look like a proper bridge, now it appeared almost complete. He walked toward the construction site. Maybe Coyote would be there.

As he picked his way around the timbers, rocks and tools, Will was struck by the immensity of their undertaking. Although it was only a two-span pony bridge across a shallow river, they had to build with spring snowmelt in mind.

Tonight the burbling waters lapped at the reinforced pilings, and the freshly-cut timbers glowed faintly in a network of crossed reinforcing beams. Another day or two, and the wooden planking would be complete. They would add railings and a few other finishing touches, but the most difficult part was done.

Putting the bridge together had been hard work that Will only dimly understood, even as he directed the men under his command. He had followed the instructions he was given and the bridge seemed to build itself. It would have been nice to have understood it the way Coyote did, but Will was not discontent. He would never be a man of ideas, but he was learning that he had a talent for leading others.

He sat on a log, listening to the rushing water and wondering where Coyote was tonight. The young man had taken to bridge design like he had been born for it, poring over drawings and asking questions until the lead engineers were tempted to toss him in the river. But he had learned. He had inspected every inch of the new bridge as if it were a fascinating new toy. Even though he lacked the mathematical skill to do the calculations, he understood the most important concepts with an instinct that finally won the engineers over.

Will glanced at the stack of timbers that would make the guardrail. The design was Coyote's. It had nothing to do with the integrity of the span, but it was still an honor. Will would make sure his men carried out the plans with their best craftsmanship.

Up the hill, a campfire glowed outside the tent of some of the older men. A few dark shapes huddled around it and Will went to see what was going on. Maybe they had a little whiskey and would share. He made his way up the rocky path, enjoying as he always did, the smell of burning piñon on a cold night. "Hey," he said as he stepped into the circle and sat down.

Shash, Otis and Bandera nodded in greeting. Gordo paused only long enough to mutter, "Hey, Will," then returned to his topic. "I hate to do it to them, but we can only use them for a few more days. One week after that with a cleanup crew, and we'll have to let them all go, unless someone knows of other work around here."

"It's a shame to lay men off. They've got families to feed."

"It's more than they would've gotten if the first bridge hadn't collapsed."

"They knew it wasn't forever when they signed on."

"You don't think they'd engage in sabotage to extend this project out, do you?"

The men shook their heads and muttered.

"We'll have to keep a close eye on things."

"And keep after the crews. Don't let them slack off." Gordo looked at Will. "What do you think? Any sign your crew might be trying to drag this thing out?"

"None that I've seen."

Shash grinned. "That's because you make them want to work."

"I just don't let them do anything less than their best. They're a good crew. Very smart and dedicated."

"They're smart and dedicated because you expect it of them," Bandera pointed out. "The men under your friend Boeing are no different, but he expects them to be lazy and stupid, so they are."

"It's psychology," Otis added.

Will shrugged. "I don't know anything about that. But if we offer the men a bonus for finishing on time and promise them first pick of the jobs when we have something else, we shouldn't have any trouble being done on schedule."

Gordo raised his eyebrows. "I'm not sure we've got any extra money."

"They'd probably like food more than money. Their kids can't eat silver."

The men fell to discussing this possibility, huddling closer to the fire as the night wore on and the cold deepened. Shash added more branches and Will picked one up. He broke off the gray ashen tip and was poking it back in the flames when one of the men looked up. "Here comes trouble."

Coyote burst into their circle, pale and urgent, and fixed Will with a look of utter exasperation. "Damn it, I've been looking all over for you! We've got to go!"

Will got to his feet. "Go where?"

"Back to base camp. Get some guns and meet me at the corral."

"But—"

"Don't just stand there!"

There was something wild and desperate in his voice that convinced him. "I'm sorry," Will told the baffled men.

"The project will be done in a few more days," Gordo said.

"We don't have days!" Coyote snapped.

"I can't explain," Will said. "But we'll be back as soon as we can."

Coyote had already taken off down the trail, and Will ran after him. "What is it?"

He let out a string of curses. "And it's already too goddamn late!"

"Too late for what? And why are we going if it's too late?"

"Because there still may be something we can do about it. We'll need guns, knives, anything you've got. And—" he stopped on the trail where it branched off. One way led up to their tent, the other down to the corral. "Bring Aguilero. Make him come."

"What about Boeing?"

"It'd be good to have him along, but he doesn't—"

A horrible suspicion dawned. "Did something happen to our girls?"

"Just do what I told you, okay? I'll get the horses. Hurry!"

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Thirty-Three

2007-07-09T23:22:00.002-06:00

They rode through the brisk winter night, so warmed by whiskey and adventure that even Pepsi was barely aware of the cold. Although they tried to stay quiet as they went through town, once they were out in the open, they fell into a breathless discussion of their outing and of future prospects for another one.

"We should do this more often. We can't let the boys have all the fun."

"When they're not here, someone's got to raise a little hell."

"At least until they get back."

"Then what?"

"We'll raise hell with them!"

This brought giggles.

"We could at least plan one little adventure each week. It would give us something to do until spring."

"And it wouldn't always have to involve sneaking out."

"How much whiskey is in the boys' stash, Pepsi?"

"Enough that they'll notice if we're drinking it."

"Who are they going to tell? Harley?"

They laughed again. Alcohol was forbidden. Who, indeed, would the boys tell?

"Is there a place in town to go dancing? That might be fun."

"You think it's safe to dance with the townies?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"Too bad Robert's not well," Diana said. "He's a good dancer."

"That's the first thing you've said since we left," Sachi pointed out.

"So?"

"Nothing. It's just interesting that the first thing you should say would be about Sputnik."

"That's because she likes him," Macy said, as if this were obvious.

"What about Will?"

"What about him?"

"Everyone says. . ."

"What?" Diana's confusion was genuine. "He's my brother."

"That's not what he says," Pepsi said. "He always makes a point about you not being any kind of blood kin."

"Family isn't about blood, it's about how you're raised."

"So you don't think of him that way?" Sachi asked.

"What way? I think of him like a brother. What did you think?"

"Well, everyone says. . ."

Diana frowned in annoyance. "We seem to be going in circles."

"In more ways than one," Pepsi said, reining in and looking around. "Where the hell are we?"

The other girls stopped, too. "This isn't the road," Sachi agreed.

Macy giggled. "That'll teach us. It all looks the same after a couple drinks."

"This won't do," Diana said. "We'll have to retrace our steps and find our way back to the main road."

They were turning their horses when a movement in the tree line caught Sachi's eye. She clicked her tongue in warning to the others, and suddenly all four girls were on the alert, peering through the darkness at the unfamiliar landscape.

With a sick feeling in her stomach, Diana realized they had no plan. If they were in danger, where could they run? Back to camp, where no one was prepared for defense? To town, where they would endanger the locals and the safe house? Damn it, why hadn't she made a plan?

"Oh, my God," Sachi whispered as shadows moved out of the forest, heading toward the road.

"Are we all armed? How many of them are there?"

More shadows emerged from the other side of the road.

"Too many for my one pistol."

"All I got is a knife," said Macy.

"We’ll have to make a run for it."

"Run where?"

"There's a tunnel that opens away from camp," Macy offered. "It's small enough that we could defend it, if we could find it."

"We don't even know where we are," Pepsi pointed out.

There was no time to debate further. The riders had kicked their horses into a trot. "Go to back town,” Diana said. “Split up when we get there, and for God's sake, avoid the safe house."

The girls clucked to their horses and started back the way they had come. The raiders spurred their horses into a canter. Diana and Sachi kicked their mounts hard and sprang forward, with Pepsi and Macy trailing behind. They raced through the darkness, praying that the horses could see the unfamiliar trail in the darkness. The raiders scarcely missed a beat, their horses' hooves pounding closer and closer.

The trail split. Diana didn't remember there being a fork. She chose a direction and yanked on the reins. Although she couldn't see the trail ahead in the darkness, her horse saw something. She felt the mare's muscles shifting as she prepared to jump. Diana leaned low over the withers, grabbed the mane and hung on. She cleared the obstacle easily, and sensed as much as heard Sachi land neatly at her flank. She was about to sigh in relief when she heard a scream and a sickening crack of bone. Then another shriek and the thud of heavy bodies hitting the ground, followed by panicked whinnying and a whoop of young male voices.

Every instinct urged her on, but she wheeled her horse and went back. Out of the dark mass of fallen horseflesh, she could make out a pale figure in the road. She leaped to the ground. "Pepsi!" She shook the girl's shoulder.

"Give her to me!" Sachi called, bringing her horse near.

Diana staggered under the girl's weight, but managed to lift her high enough that Sachi could drag her across her lap. "I'll get Macy."

"I'll wait—"

"No. Pepsi is hurt. Go!"

Sachi took off and Diana ran toward the horses, nearly tripping over Pepsi's dropped gun, which she stuck in the waistband of her pants. "Macy, where are you?"

It was too late. The horsemen surrounded her. It looked like there were four of them, but in the darkness, it was hard to tell. Diana rested her hand on her gun as one of the riders drew his horse near.

"Where're you going to so fast, pretty thing?"

"Don't you know bad things happen to little girls alone in the woods?" one of his companions asked. He approached so close she could feel his horse's breath on her neck.

"We don't want no trouble," Diana said, trying to pitch her voice low to stop it from trembling. "Just let me get my friend and put her on my horse, and we'll leave."

"Looks like a nice horse," the first man said, eyeing Diana’s mare as one of his companions dismounted and shot Pepsi's horse, which had been lying in the road, moaning and whinnying. "Maybe I want to keep it."

Diana lifted her chin. "Take her, then. My friend and I will walk."

"Your friend don't look like she's up for much walking."

She looked around, and realized one of the men had found Macy and dragged her off to the side of the road. He was bending over her limp form, tugging at her clothes.

"Don't worry," the man said. "She ain't dead. That one won't fuck them if they're dead."

The other man dismounted, grabbed her braid and pulled her face close to his. "You want to play with us too, baby?"

Diana whipped out her pistol, pulled the trigger, and saw him drop to his knees, clutching his stomach. Then she fired at the first man, but her bullet only grazed his shoulder. He made a grab for her as another man tried to wrestle her arms behind her back. "You're going to pay for that, bitch."

She struggled to keep control of her gun, firing off a few wild shots before someone wrenched it from her grip. She screamed, kicking and slapping at the hands that were pulling at her clothes. Someone clapped a hand over her mouth, and she sank her teeth into it. The hand moved away and she could breathe again, but then something slammed into the side of her head and she had only a moment to be surprised at how soft the ground was before the moonlit darkness turned to black.

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Thirty Two

2007-07-08T23:38:00.006-06:00

Diana dressed in the dark, as if going on watch. Amalia was accustomed to Will and Diana’s nocturnal comings and goings and didn't wake up.

Once she was in the tunnel, Diana paused. Hearing nothing, she glanced at her map. She had already memorized it, but looking at it again reassured her as she ventured into the darkness. Just around the first bend she saw the glow of Sachi and Pepsi’s lantern and she ran to catch up. "I'm glad I found you."

"Yeah, I wouldn't want to walk through here alone," Pepsi said. "I don't know how Coyote does it."

"You know how he is. He senses things."

"I wonder if Macy thinks that's weird," Sachi said.

As they walked, they found that Macy had marked the route with cairns of piled rubble.

"Nice of her," Sachi murmured.

"She's turning out to be real smart," Pepsi added.

The girls lapsed into silence, following the path's dips and turns and finally trudging up a long incline where the air became fresher and colder with each step until they found themselves under the stars. Macy was waiting for them, the sacks of gifts at her feet.

They went to the corral, caught their horses, and set out by the light of the moon. They tried to keep talking to a minimum, but couldn’t resist the occasional comment about how still and beautiful the night was, how surprised Sputnik was going to be, and how laughably simple it had been to escape undetected.

"I had no idea it was this easy," Pepsi said. "We'll have to do this more often."

"I don't know," Sachi said. "Seems like a bad habit to get into."

"The boys do it, and it's not like we have any other bad habits."

"That's true. Who has time?"

They arrived in town as the bell in the church tower tolled nine o'clock.

"Oh good," Macy said, "It's still early."

"We'll be back before anyone even misses us.”

Diana led them through the narrow streets. As they approached the house, she waved a hand for silence. They tethered their horses to some trees at the edge of the lot and walked to the back of the house. Diana went to Robert's window and tapped on the glass. "You don't think they gave him any pain meds tonight, do you?" Sachi whispered. "If they're giving him opium, he might not wake up very easy." Diana hadn't thought of that. She tapped again, louder this time. A shadow moved behind the glass and Robert pulled back the curtain. Seeing the four girls looking up at him, he struggled with the lock and slid the window open. "What's this?"

"Happy birthday!" Diana said.

He gave her a confused smile. "It's not my birthday."

"So? You must've had one sometime."

"That goes without saying."

"We thought we'd have a birthday party for you."

"Tonight?"

"Why not? Let us in, okay?"

Robert stepped back from the window with a bemused look on his face while the girls hoisted themselves onto the windowsill and scrambled in. Diana shut the window and shivered. "Sorry we let in so much cold."

"That's quite all right. So who is who?” He looked at the little group. “I remember you, Macy. I took some reports from you in Jonasville when you were much younger." He started to shake her hand but ended up hugging her instead.

Macy blushed. "I don't want to ever see that place again."

"And you must be Sachi."

"We need to recruit more Japanese if I'm ever going to be able to go incognito."

"And you. . . ?"

"Pepsi."

Robert refrained from commenting on her choice of code name and shook her hand. "Now that I know everyone," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I hope you'll forgive me. . ."

The girls dropped their packages, shed their jackets and fussed over him like a flock of mother hens. After they had gotten him under the covers and everything was smoothed and tucked to their satisfaction, they stepped back and admired their work in a little huddle of feminine approval.

"Now it's time for food and presents," Diana told him.

"I get presents?"

"It's not a birthday party without presents."

"I told you it's not my birthday."

"But it will be eventually."

"If I live that long."

"You're getting better. I'm sure you'll live to be a hundred."

“Another San Eusebio, and I’ll be lucky to reach thirty.”

"How old are you?" Pepsi asked, fumbling with a bag.

"Twenty-six."

Macy set the box of chocolates in his lap. "Really? Even in Jonasville, I didn't meet many men your age. Not ones with all their limbs, at any rate. You're lucky you weren’t drafted for the resource wars."

"Yes. I escaped that fate so I could die in our internal squabbles instead. But if I'm going to risk my life, I'd rather do it for my own people than for some out-of-control war machine thousands of miles away." While the girls nodded in agreement, he opened the foil-covered box. He stared for a long moment before speaking. "This is a very expensive gift. The only way I can accept it is if you take the first piece."

Macy started to shake her head, but Diana nudged her to go ahead.

With a pleased smile, she selected one from the box. Nothing else would do but that the other girls should each have one before Robert took one for himself. While they were all enjoying their candy, Diana laid her gift in his lap. She had wrapped it in a scrap of colorful cloth and tied it with a hair ribbon. "I'm afraid it's not nearly as impressive as Macy's present.”

"But it looks homemade. That makes it special." He removed the scarf from its wrapping and examined it.

There were no fancy stitches— Diana's domestic skills were limited. But it was neatly made, and the gray cashmere was soft and warm. "This is exactly what I needed," he told her. "That little brazier in the corner doesn't do much at all. In fact, I think I'd like to wear it now, if you'd help me."

There was something in his eyes that made Diana think he wanted to say more. He touched her hand, and it didn't feel like the other times he had touched her. This was a warm liquid glow she felt in the pit of her stomach and all the way to the soles of her feet. She couldn't breathe, but suddenly didn't care if she never breathed again. She adjusted the scarf around his neck. "I'm glad you like it," she said, hating herself for saying something so trite. To cover for her embarrassment, she pushed Pepsi forward with her gift.

Pepsi had tied a bow to the handle of the cane, which was the most she could do by way of packaging, but Tiffany had painted it nicely, with black and orange Indian patterns at the base of the handle and near the tip. "We heard your leg was still healing," she said, clumsily laying the object in his lap. "So we figured you should have something nice for getting around with."

Robert had been watching Diana curiously, but now he picked up the cane and examined it. "Thank you. This is much more attractive than the crutch I've been using. I may have to put off getting well, so I can get the most mileage out of it. You'll let me try it out later though, right?"

"Of course. We only just got you back to bed."

"Besides," said Sachi, "the food is ready." She had reheated the empanadas on the brazier and piled them on a decorative plate she found on a bookshelf. "Sorry I couldn't make you a cake, but cakes are hard to make in a solar box cooker."

Robert picked up an empanada and took a bite. "You're damaging Diana's credibility with these. She told me you never had anything good to eat in camp."

Diana turned away, blushing, while Sachi explained that her empanadas were hardly an example of typical camp fare. Meanwhile Pepsi rummaged in a bag and produced a bottle of whiskey. "We can't eat without something to drink."

"Where'd you get that?" Diana asked.

"Aguilero showed me where the guys keep their stash. You don't really think they obey all the camp rules, do you?"

"Are there glasses for all of us?" Sachi looked around.

Macy did a quick survey of the room, which in addition to the glass of water by Robert's bed, produced a dirty coffee cup, a decorative bisque teacup, a small bowl, and a canning jar with a bit of dried jelly stuck to the bottom. There was a jug of water beside the nightstand, so the girls cleaned everything out, and soon everyone had a drink. But when Pepsi went to add some whiskey to Robert's glass, he stopped her. "None for me, thank you. It's bad for the liver."

Pepsi frowned. "Are you sure of that?"

"Sounds like an old wives' tale to me," said Sachi.

Macy nodded. "Too much of that stuff, and your liver swells up. I've seen it. But that takes years." She looked at Robert. "You sure you don't want just a little?"

After some wheedling, he allowed them to pour a bit into his water glass, and then the girls clamored around him to enjoy their feast. Diana and Macy sat on the bed while the other girls pulled up chairs. They finished off the empanadas and had a few more chocolates. The girls topped off their drinks, whispering and teasing each other.

After her second drink, Pepsi stood up and suggested they sing a song. Macy jerked her back into her chair, giggling and hushing her. Sachi found a deck of cards and tried to deal out hands for poker, but the cards kept slipping from her fingers. Diana amused herself by plucking feathers from Sachi's braids and arranging them in Robert's hair with all the earnestness of an artiste.

Half an hour later, Pepsi was singing "Happy Birthday," with Macy harmonizing, and Diana was adjusting the feathers, staring into Robert's eyes and wondering if she dared kiss him. Suddenly the bedroom door flew open. Señora Varamendi stood in the doorway, sizing up the scene as Diana scrambled to her feet, Sachi’s cards scattered across the floor, and Pepsi and Macy fell silent.

"¿Qué es esto?"

"I'm sorry, Señora," Robert said, pulling the feathers from his hair. "This is all my fault."

"No it's not," Diana said. "It's our fault. We wanted to give him a surprise party." She tried to collect her thoughts as the room swayed. Auntie was going to be furious. "We were disrespectful, but we're going to clean up now and go back to camp."

"Pos, see that you do."

"Sí, señora. Lo sentimos." Diana looked at the other girls and they nodded agreement, murmuring their own apologies.

When Señora Varamendi had gone, Diana laughed and threw herself onto the bed. "Auntie is going to have my head! But that'll teach her. We wanted to do this the normal way, in the daytime and with la señora's permission, but Auntie said. . ." She raised herself on her elbows and looked into Robert's feverish eyes. "She said it would be too much for you." She sat up, serious this time. "We’re making you tired, aren't we? We better clean up and go back. We weren’t planning on staying long, anyway. They'll miss us."

While Sachi fumbled to pick up the cards and collect her feathers, the other girls cleaned the dishes, packed their bags, and tidied the room. All of this had to be done carefully, because the whiskey was making a mockery of the sizes and distances of things. Finally they were satisfied they had everything back in order.

"Is there anything you need before we leave?" Diana asked. "Can I help you with your medicine?"

Robert shook his head. "This has been the best medicine. If this is the kind of attention I'll get in camp, I can't wait to get well."

The girls giggled at the compliment and each gave him a tipsy kiss, whispering good wishes for his quick recovery. Diana approached the bed last. She was startled all over again by the sensation that coursed through her at his touch. She brushed her lips against his, hardly daring to breathe, then she lowered her eyes and looked toward the window where Sachi was watching. "Go on," Diana said. "I'll hand the bags out to you." After Sachi had scooted out the window and Diana passed her their few remaining items, she turned away. "I forgot something," she lied. "Get the horses and I'll catch up."

Without waiting to see if Sachi had gone, Diana sat on the bed.

"What is it?"

She ducked her head, wondering if he knew. But of course he knew. How could he not have felt what she felt? She leaned over and kissed him, really kissed him this time, twining her fingers in his hair and stretching out beside him, hardly aware of what she was doing, but achingly conscious of his arms pulling her close and his lips devouring her. Time melted and disappeared, and it took Robert, nearly choking on the words, to remind her, "You need to go. The others are waiting for you."

Diana took a trembling breath and sat up, looking around the room as if it might have changed. "Can I come back tomorrow?"

"I'll be mad at you if you don't."

"What about la Señora?"

"Fixing problems is my job, remember?"

Diana got to her feet and leaned over for another kiss.

"No. If we start that again, I won't let you go home tonight."

Diana walked toward the window, a smile playing about her lips. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Thanks for my party."

Diana jumped out the window, closed it behind her and went in search of the others. She found them a short distance away, waiting near some trees. "Why didn't you get the horses?"

"We were waiting for you," Sachi said, with an odd mixture of curiosity and anger.

But Macy was all knowing smiles as she said, "That was fun, wasn't it?"

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Thirty One

2007-07-07T23:24:00.002-06:00

The next day, Diana shared the news with the other girls.

"That's too bad," Pepsi said. "I already started working on the cane."

"I spent half the morning getting the tarnish off that brass handle."

"I think we should do it anyway," Diana said. "We'll just have to sneak out."

"All of us?" Tiffany looked at the group doubtfully.

"How would we do it?" Pepsi asked.

"That's easy," Macy said. "There are lots of tunnels we don't use, and they go everywhere— forest, corral, all over. Coyote left me a map."

"I wondered how he was always able to sneak off without anyone knowing."

"So all we have to do," Diana said, "Is pick an evening after dinner when none of us is on watch, and go."

"You think we should go at night?" Ikea asked.

"If we go during the day, they'll miss us on chores."

"But isn't that like going AWOL? Harley and Amalia will kill us when they find out."

"We're not a real army like Lone Star-- they can't do anything to us. It'll only be for a couple hours. Besides, who'll tell?"

"Señora Varamendi, the next time Amalia goes to nurse Sputnik."

"It'll be a secret party," Diana said. "We won’t knock on the door—we'll climb in through his bedroom window." Her eyes lit up at this added bit of adventure.

Tiffany shook her head. "I'll cover for your watches for you, but I won't go sneaking off."

"Me either," Ikea said.

"Well?" Diana looked at the others. "Don't tell me I'm the only one not afraid to ride a couple miles into town and back."

"I'll go," Sachi said.

Macy and Pepsi nodded.

"Okay, then. We need a plan. We need to figure out when the presents will be ready, check the watch schedule, and have a plan for all of us getting out the right tunnel at the right time."

"And we have to be able to get to our horses," Sachi added.

"Right. Macy will draw us a map."

"Make sure it's a good one," Pepsi said. "I don't want to get lost."

"I draw real good!"

"I'll sneak you some of Auntie's drawing paper, then.”

"I'll trade with someone for cooking duty so I can make those empanadas," Sachi said.

"And if someone can help me with my chores, I can get the cane finished tomorrow," Pepsi added.

Diana sat back on her heels, pleased at how effortlessly things had come together.

It was almost too easy.

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Thirty

2007-07-06T00:24:00.004-06:00

To Diana's surprise, Amalia put a stop to things before they could even begin.

"No. He's not so well that he can have all you girls down there crowding the sick room, making noise and fussing over him."

"He'll like it," Diana said. They were in their room getting ready for bed. "Macy says all men like it when women pay attention."

"Having you visit was enough of a distraction. He needs to focus on getting well."

"Maybe this will inspire him to hurry up about it." Diana began braiding her hair so it wouldn't tangle.

"He's doing the best he can."

"What's it going to hurt if we take him a few presents?"

"You'll just give him ideas. In fact, I think you've given him enough already. I'm tempted to tell you not to visit any more."

"You've kept me away for more than two weeks, but you can't do it forever. I'm not a child you can order around."

"Robert is my patient, and I can say who sees him and who doesn't."

"You would keep me from seeing him?"

"If you're going to keep teasing him, you don't give me much of a choice."

"How do I tease him?"

Amalia shook her head. "I really struggle to figure you out sometimes."

"If there's anything you don't understand, maybe you should ask instead of making these vague accusations."

Amalia raised her eyebrows at Diana's impertinent tone. "Okay. Are you leading Robert on for a reason, or are you really that ignorant of how he feels about you?"

Diana stared in surprise. "We're friends. He's never made so much as a leading remark."

"If that's the only thing that will convince you, you'll be waiting a long time. Just because a man treats you with respect doesn't mean he's not interested."

Diana dismissed the notion. "All I wanted was to have a party for my friend who saved your life and nearly died, and here you go trying to make something of it." She flung herself onto her blanket and buried her face in the pillow.

Amalia looked at her, nonplussed. Unbidden, she remembered Miguel's words about the need young people had to hurt themselves. What he had failed to mention was how they needed to hurt each other, too. But Diana was nearly eighteen. To keep trying to protect her was insane, impossible, and would ultimately do neither one of them any good.

Amalia sat down. "I'll quit interfering. Just don’t let him misunderstand you. If you like him, fine. But if you don't. . . well, it's easy to think you're just being nice to a man and then later you find he's been reading a lot more into it than you intended."

"He wouldn't do that," came the muffled voice from the pillow.

"Quit lying to yourself."

Diana was silent so long that Amalia wondered if she had fallen asleep, but finally she lifted her head. "So can we have the party for him?"

"No."

"Why not? You said you wouldn't interfere. We're already working on his presents."

"I was serious when I said it's too much excitement for him. You girls will tire him out." She went to her pallet. "Besides, Señora Varamendi is old and doesn't need you young people raising a ruckus in her house."

"We're not going to raise a ruckus. We won't make any messes we won't clean up, and. . ." Seeing the determined look on Amalia's face, Diana stopped. "Okay. No party." She threw herself back onto her pillow.

"I'm sorry. You can still go see him, and you girls can go in pairs for short visits. As for the party, why don't you wait until he's well and comes up here to join us? You can do it then."

"Okay," Diana said, refusing to look at her. She grabbed a blanket and pulled it up to her chin. "Please turn off the light. I'm going to sleep now."

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