THREE

Marie Cartwright strained against the ropes that bound her hands together. She had been placed at the back of the lodge and, from where she was sitting with her back up against the hide wall, watched the woman who was her guard go about her business. The woman had not spoken to her. In fact, the only attention she had paid to her was to spit in the dirt at her feet and then thrust a bowl of some sort of disgusting mash into her hands. The Creole woman's lips quirked as her eyes went to the far wall of the lodge where, even now, the thin gruel was dripping down and soaking into the dirt floor.

Her belly might be empty but her pride was intact.

Even as that triumphant thought entered her mind, she heard her mother's scolding tone. 'Marie! Pride goes before destruction! A haughty spirit before a fall!'

Fall.

She could see him falling.

Her husband's beloved oldest son, falling with an arrow in his chest.

Marie closed her eyes, seeking to shut out the image, but it would not go away. She saw the look of surprise give way to fear in Adam's golden-green eyes. He'd turned toward his brothers as if he would protect them. Instead the movement propelled him over the side of the wagon and to the ground. Adam didn't make a sound as he hit. He lay there as several pair of moccasined feet stepped over him as if he was nothing more than an unfortunate bit of debris in the road.

The beautiful blonde woman blinked back her tears. Ben had warned her about the Indians. He had told her, if she ever came across them, not to show weakness; not to show that her heart was breaking – that her arms were aching for her sons.

She had no idea where Hoss and her sweet petit Joseph were or even if they were alive.

The hard-looking woman who watched her was making bread. She lifted her eyes from the flour covered stone to glare at her and then struck the thick dough with her fist as if making a point. The men who had taken them unawares spoke English. She did not know if this woman did. Twice now the man who had dragged her from the carriage had come to the lodge. She did not think the two were man and wife. Brother and sister, perhaps, for they fought like wild dogs over a bone. It was after the last time the man had come that the woman had offered her food. She would not eat their swill. She would do nothing they wanted until they let her see her sons! She had told the man that. She had stood toe to toe with him, looking up into his unblinking black eyes, and demanded he bring her children to her. He had laughed.

Long and hard.

That, of course, had been her undoing. She'd brought here heeled boot down on his foot encased in soft leather and grinned as he hopped about as though he had stepped on a fire. But her joy had been short-lived. Fuming, the man towered over her and had raised his hand as if to strike her. In spite of that, she hadn't backed down. She'd held his gaze, praying with fury that the fear in her heart would not shine out of her eyes. As he lowered his hand, the hard woman said something. The man shouted at her and then turned and grabbed a rope that hung on the wall. She could not win against his strength. He had quickly bound her hands and driven her to the back of the lodge, where he forced her to sit down. He loomed over her, as if to remind her that she was at his mercy, and then turned and left.

At that moment her mother's voice had reminded her of another thing. 'Mon petite, remember, one gathers more flies with honey than with vinegar'.

'Piss and vinegar', that was what her beloved Benjamin had told Hop sing once that she was made of – when he thought she was not within hearing, of course!

As Marie sat there, considering her fate and that of her small sons, the door of the lodge opened and the Indian man came in again. She thought his name was Black Arrow, but she was not sure. She had heard it in passing. The name fit the warrior for he was tall and dark, both in manner and looks, and like an arrow, seemed bent toward revenge. She had overheard enough to know that his wife had recently died at the hands of their enemies and that she had been taken to replace her.

Marie swallowed over her fear. "Benjamin," the beautiful woman murmured under her breath, "mon cher, come soon."

Black Arrow paused and looked back. A moment later a small form shot into the lodge, aimed straight for her.

"Mama!" her small son shrieked as he caught hold of her, his little fingers twining in her hair and about her neck.

Her heart broke that she couldn't hold him.

"Shh, mon petit," the blonde woman cooed as her eyes looked over his head, taking in Black Arrow who was watching them. "Shh. Everything will be all right."

Joseph shuddered and then pulled back so he could look into her eyes. "P...promise?" he asked, his little voice trembling.

What could she say? She prayed her words would prove true. "I promise, little one. Nothing will happen to you or to – "

Marie sucked in air. Black Arrow had wrenched Joseph from her grasp and was holding him, dangling above the lodge floor. The woman who was her guard said something that made him laugh. A moment later the woman rose. As she came to the man's side, she withdrew a knife from her belt. Taking hold of Joseph's curls, she pressed that blade against his skin.

"My sister says the boy's curls will make a soft cushion for her head," Black Arrow announced.

Joseph had grown very still. His little mouth opened and formed the word, 'Mama?'

"You will not harm my son!" she warned.

The woman spoke for the first time. "The white boy is of no use. He is too small to carry wood or water. Too young to hunt. Winter comes. Those who do not give to the tribe will be left behind. "

Her heart ached. "Please. Please, don't hurt him," she pleaded.

Black Arrow nodded to his sister. The woman anchored the knife in the sheath at her waist and then reached up and took Joseph from him. Her son shrieked and was cuffed into silence as the woman headed for the door.

Marie followed her son's departure with tear-filled eyes until her vision was filled by Black Arrow. The warrior knelt before her and then reached out to take hold of a strand of her hair.

"What will the white boy's mother give to keep him alive?"

The Creole woman closed her eyes. Behind them, she saw the man she loved reaching out for her, begging her to be brave – promising her he would come to her rescue.

What would she give?

With tears streaming down her cheeks, Marie told him.

Anything.

"Are you sure he'll be all right?" Ben asked Eagle Station's only doctor. He'd managed to get Adam into the carriage before the boy lost consciousness again. After hitching Buck to it – all the other horses were gone – he had driven it like the wind to the settlement. Providence had been with him in that the buckskin had tolerated the loathsome duty and the physician had been in his office and not out on his rounds. Rounds that could have taken him anywhere from one to one hundred miles away. "I mean, I thought..." He shuddered as the image of his son laying on the examining table, his face white as the sheet hat covered him, flashed before his eyes. "There was so much blood."

Paul Martin's hand came down on his shoulder. "You did what you had to and a good thing too. The infection was spreading. I know it was hard, Ben, but removing that arrow probably saved Adam's life."

He nodded and then, suddenly weak-kneed, collapsed into the closest chair.

"How long has it been since you've had anything to eat? Or more than an hour's sleep?"

"I don't have time. I have to go after Marie and the boys. I've got to –"

"Eat and get at least a few hours sleep," the doctor insisted. "That is, unless you want to fall out of the saddle or , if you find them, make a mistake you'll regret."

His head came up. Paul saw his look.

The doctor cleared his throat. "When you find them. You have to admit it, Ben. You're not superhuman. Even you can't manage on sheer willpower alone."

He considered it – for a second. "I have to get out there. The trail is already growing cold."

"Sheriff Olin is on it. Roy's with him. There are a dozen men ready to ride."

"No! I don't want a posse. If the Indians see a band of men coming after them, they might..."

"Olin's not going to just sit by. He thinks these men were a part of the renegade band – the one that raided that ranch and killed the Parkers."

"Yes, and then the army went out and killed their wives and children! Paul, where does it end? I don't want these men dead. I...understand their anger. I just want my wife and children back safe and sound." Ben paused, exhausted. "I have to go alone."

Paul had walked over to a table. He was fingering the Indian blanket that lay on it; the one that had been left in the carriage. He'd used it to cover Adam to keep him warm on their journey to the settlement.

"Adam told me that the Indians... That they 'paid' for Marie and the boys with this and a few other trinkets."

"He spoke to you?" The rancher rose to his feet. "Is he awake?"

The doctor shook his head . "Sit back down, Ben. I gave him something to make him sleep. He'll be out for hours. The boy needs rest to replenish the blood he's lost."

Ben sank back into the chair. He stared at the blanket in the physician's hands. "Yes. They 'paid' for them. That's why I need to go. I'm Marie's husband. Joseph and Hoss' father. I need to... I will have to buy them back."

"Good Lord, Ben! Payment for that could be your life!"

"If God wills it so..." The rancher blinked. Then he started. He had actually started to nod off.

How could he?

"I'm sure you'll want to talk to Adam before you leave. The boy needs, well, reassurance that what he did was enough," Paul Martin said, his tone gentle. "I have an extra cot in the room. Go lay down for a bit. When Adam wakes, you'll hear him." The older man came to his side and looked down. "He's your son too, Ben, and in spite of what Adam thinks, he's still a boy. He needs his pa."

Ben ran a hand over his stubbled cheeks. "I didn't know you had a prescription for guilt," he said, all too aware of the irony in his tone.

"I've got everything in that little black bag I need," the doctor replied with a wry twist to his lips. "Now, are you going to listen to me or do I need to add a dose of blackmail?"

Ben frowned, and then he laughed, though the gesture brought a twinge of pain. "All right. But only until Adam wakes. Then, I am going to bring my wife and sons home."

Marie looked down at the dress she was wearing. It was made of buckskin and decorated with beads and tiny little silver cones that jingled. Her own dress had been ruined, but she had fought before giving it up. The green silk day dress was a tie to a world she was quickly coming to believe she would never see again. She had heard Black Arrow talking outside the lodge with one of his men. They did not intend to stay in this camp for long. The warrior feared the army was looking for them. She had no idea what, but apparently the Indians had done something a few days before to warrant the soldier's attention.

That meant she had to act quickly.

In fact, there was no time to lose. In spite of what Black Arrow had promised, his sister – her name was Ankeboat or Two Hatchet – had made it clear she wished to leave Joseph behind. Hoss, she praised for his strength and size, but her poor petit Joseph was seen as weak and unworthy. One of the women who attended and dressed her – her name was Silver Spring – had been raised by missionaries and spoke English. She'd taken pity on her and told her of Two Hatchet and how, when the woman's husband and children had been killed by white men, she'd taken up his weapons and gone to war in his place and brought home five scalps.

Two Hatchet, she said, was without mercy.

Walking over to the lodge door, Marie peeled the skin flap back and peered outside. Black Arrow was out front with his sister. They were arguing. Marie gave a little laugh. She was sure she knew what over – her! Before they left this camp behind, she was to be joined to Black Arrow in a ceremony performed by their medicine man. The short hide dress she wore, the feathers and multi-colored beads dotting her now loose, flowing hair, and the silver bracelets circling her neck and wrists were a pledge of his intentions. His sister had made it clear that she was against it. Two Hatchet believed her as weak and useless as her son and predicted she would die before the winter was out.

Her salvation lay in the fact that Black Arrow seemed to want her in spite of his sister's misgivings.

Marie closed her eyes and reached up, toward her throat. Silver Spring had kindly left the crucifix she wore alone. It was still around her neck. She grasped it and whispered a quick prayer to the Holy Mother, asking for strength. She had agreed to go through with the ceremony in order to buy time for her Benjamin to find them. Her beloved would know by now that they were missing. Most likely he had found the rig and...

Adam.

Marie sucked in terror as the image appeared before her eyes again. She saw the boy, lying in a crumpled heap on the ground; the shaft of an arrow sticking out his shoulder. Black Arrow had assured her as they rode away that Ben's oldest child was alive. She had no reason to believe him. If Adam had...died...Ben would be overwrought. He would have to attend to...details.

He might not be coming.

As the lodge door was drawn aside, Marie took a step back and pulled herself up to her full height. Drawing in a breath, she steeled herself to face the savage who, out of a misguided sense of justice, believed he was owed a wife and she was it.

Marie's lips twisted with irony.

Well then, she'd make sure he got what he deserved.

Adam Cartwright groaned as he shifted on the bed. He blinked several times and licked his lips. Swallowing was hard and speaking nearly impossible. All he managed was one soft and nearly silent word.

"Pa...?"

His father was seated beside him. The older man came instantly awake. One rough callused hand took hold of his while the other brushed the hair back from his glistening forehead.

"Adam. Son." There was a pause. "Thank God."

"Can I..." he began.

"Anything, son. What do you want?"

"...water?"

"Of course." A moment later Pa lifted his head and a cup was pressed to his lips. The water was cool. Refreshing.

Needed.

So was some information.

Gripping his father's sleeve, he pulled him close. "Pa...Marie. What about...Marie and..." He choked. The thought of his little brothers taken by savages was more than he could bear. Marie was a grown woman. But Hoss and Joe... "My brothers?"

Adam read the answer in his father's face.

"Go!" he choked out as he released his grip on the older man's shirt and feebly pushed him away. "Pa...go!"

His father looked up. He wondered why for a moment, but then Pa asked, "Paul? Is he out of danger?"

Adam blinked again and rolled his eyes to the left. It was too much effort to turn his head. Eagle Station's doctor was standing there, staring down at him. The look on his face wasn't promising.

"I won't lie to you, Ben. There's always a risk of infection. We'll know by tonight."

His fingers sought the cloth of his father's shirt again and twisted it. "You...have to go, Pa. Hoss and Joe, they're...so little. And Marie. Pa...you know Marie..."

His father nodded. They both knew Marie. One minute she was fragile as a fine china vase, and the next she was as tempestuous as the furnace it was fired in. Like his littlest brother, Adam's step-mother leaped before she looked, consequences be damned.

"Marie's concern will be for the boys," his father said, as if assuring himself it was true. "She'll do what she has to do to keep them safe."

Adam's strength was running out, but he found enough for a wry smile.

"Yeah. And Heaven help the man who took her."

Ben stopped in the doorway of Paul Martin's surgery to look back at his son. Adam's brief moment of wakefulness had cost him. The boy had fallen unconscious again and his temperature begun to creep up. The doctor assured him it was to be expected, and that the slight rise was not indicative of the spread of infection. Still, leaving him was hard.

But necessary.

"I'll keep a close eye on Adam. You know I love those boys of yours like they were my own." Paul paused. "Especially that little scamp I brought into the world."

He turned to look at his friend. There were tears in Paul's eyes. There was fear there too. They had all heard the stories of white women who were abducted and made to marry into the tribe, and of their children – some who lived and others who were abandoned as unworthy.

Joseph was so small.

Words failed him, so instead he nodded.

His friend's hand came down on his shoulder. "What will you do?"

Paul's touch lent him strength. Ben straightened up and a steely light entered his eyes. "What I have to," he said. "Whatever I have to."

With one last glance at Adam who lay turning and tossing in his bed, Ben walked to front of the doctor's office where he had left his hat and gun belt hanging on a peg. As he fastened the belt around his hips, he turned back to look at his friend.

"I'm leaving, Paul. I want you to promise me that you won't tell anyone where I've gone. I've dealt with the Paiute before. They'll respect one man's courage. If they see a dozen men riding hard for their village, they're liable to..." He swallowed over his fear. "They're liable to cut their losses and run."

"Ben, you can't go alone. It's too dangerous!"

"I have to!" he all but shouted. Then, softening his tone, he repeated, " Paul, I have to. If there's any chance of saving Marie and the boys, I have to – "

Paul suddenly looked distracted. The expression on his face was hard to read.

A moment later a voice, low and gruff as a grizzly's growl said, "I've been told I would find Benjamin Cartwright here. Is that you, sir?"

Without looking, Ben knew who and what it was – and 'what' it was filled him with terror for his wife and his missing sons.

The army officer removed his hat as he stepped into the surgery.

"Sir, we need to talk."