The locals called it a "Comanche Moon". It was when the moon was full and put out such a light in the dead of night that no man, woman, or child was safe in their beds. The Comanche warriors swept through Texas in raids that brought death, and if you were lucky, or rather not so lucky, it brought slavery of the worst kind.

Sister Ruth couldn't sleep and pulled the thin shawl around her chemise tighter and shivered. She had no gun with which to protect herself or even four walls. She relied on the Lord God Almighty as she traveled through the land with only her Bible and a covered wagon.

She had imagined them descending on her so many times after hearing the stories that when she saw the Comanche on the horizon for a moment she believed they were a mirage.

Their bronzed skin shone in the moonlight like polished copper. Their horses stamped their hooves and snorted on the crest of the hill as if they were as impatient to kill as their riders. The high-pitched yells they made were terrible as if they came straight from the pits of hell.

She could only drop to her knees and pray as she heard the galloping horses and felt as they encircled her, but she kept her eyes closed and her lips moving in silent supplication.

She shuddered when one of them jumped down, moccasins hitting the earth softly, and drug a hand across her cheek. She couldn't be called a maiden as a woman in her late thirties, nor would she call herself a great beauty, but that didn't seem to matter. He had his mind intent on wicked things, and as she opened her eyes, she saw he was not the only one. They were bent on domination and taking women was one more way they could do it.

She was not their first victim of the night. She knew because one of them gripped his side where a Texan had shot them.

"Lord be praised," she said, lifting her eyes heavenward. She could at least stall. She motioned toward the warrior. "I can help."

She didn't know if any of them spoke English, but they understood her meaning, and a couple of them brought the man to her cot beside the campfire.

The bullet was still lodged in his side but visible. She wasn't stupid. If their warrior died likely so would she, and she had nothing with which to dig it out. It would be better just to leave it in.

Using her sewing needle and one of the hairs on the tail of her horse, she set to sewing it up. She felt his forehead when she finished. It was as she expected, hot to the touch. Oftentimes, fever killed more than the gun wound.

She may have been a faith healer, but she also believed the Lord gifted the earth with herbs for a reason, and she always had some on hand. She took the time to fix him tea and had him drink, never ceasing to murmur prayers.

Loudly with a hand in the air and a Bible in the other, she prayed over the warrior one more time. "Lord, You are the sustainer of all life. Of the Indians as much as anybody. Save this man's life and bring him healing that Your glory may be seen. In Your Son's name, I pray. Amen."

She was a little surprised they seemed to respect her prayer, not doing anything until she had finished praying. They then retrieved their friend, putting him back across his horse.

She expected a tiny bit of gratitude. Instead, she was grabbed by her loose hair and thrown across the closest warrior's horse, the pain of which made her eyes and scalp sting. She somehow managed to keep a grip on her Bible during the capture.

At least she had managed to avoid their earlier intent, but had she really escaped their planned abuse or only delayed it?

sss

"The Comanche are a bitter and vengeful people. They want revenge against Texas." The Texas Ranger stroked his slicked mustache.

"Why?" Kid Cole asked. He was still wondering why he'd been asked to meet with the man at the sheriff's office. He wasn't a Texan just a drifter with a powerful reputation.

"We learned from the captive brought to a peace treaty about the merciless torture they inflicted on her."

"I heard about that. It was inhuman what they did to that poor girl."

"Exactly, and we found out there were more just like her in their camps. They lied about them being sold to other tribes, so they could get ransom for them later. We attempted to hold their chiefs until the rest were brought, but that didn't go over well with such a savage people. Instead of peace, the meeting ended in bloodshed as they tried to escape. We had no choice but to kill them, and they killed a few of our people as well."

"And now their warriors are taking it out on the settlers."

"You got it. We learned five more were captured last night. No men, of course, they're generally killed on the spot, but there's three children and two women. One is a faith healer who travels around doing revivals."

"A woman alone in this part of the country..."

"I know. She didn't stand a chance. They need to be rescued, however. Not only is it our Christian duty, but if we don't subdue them, Texas is never going to grow. People won't want to move to such a dangerous country."

"No doubt. As sorry as I am to hear all this, I'm wondering though what you want with a simple gunfighter. Aren't there plenty of Rangers to accomplish the task?"

"There are, but we think you're the man for the job. It's dangerous what we're asking you to do, but we're giving into their ransom. It should be a quick exchange. You give them money, they give you the captives. Will you do it?"

"I can't turn my back on women and children if you think I'm their best chance."

"We believe so. One man will be less intimidating to them than a group of Texas Rangers. I hate to give into their demands, but the lives of civilians are more important, and the mayor agrees, which is where the funds came from. And if they turn on you, your quick reflexes should get you out of there. In that case, grab who you can if you can and wing as many Indians as possible in your escape."

Details were exchanged, and Kid pulled his hat down against the searing southern sun as he left the office. He had a gut feeling that it was not going to be easy, not by a long shot.